A Young Sea Soldier

A Young Sea Soldier by Andy Macdonald.

andymacdon@hotmail.com

Legal Notice: The following story contains descriptions of graphic sexual acts. The story is a work of fiction and has little basis in reality.

Copyright: The author retains copyright to this story. Placing this story on a website or reproducing this story for distribution without the author's permission is a violation of that copyright.

PART II.

I went aft and started the engine which would charge up the yacht's batteries and at the same time give us a tank full of hot water - we were going to need a lot of hot water.

"Come on, my soldier-boy, we both need to do something radical about our disgusting bodies - and you're going to need some help."

Billy grinned trustingly at me and sat up, gingerly placing his damaged leg onto the deck. I grabbed his arm and helped him up to his feet. He then stripped off his funky army T-shirt and boxers while I stood back admiring his cute young soldier-body. I helped Billy to shuffle into the tiny shower stall thinking what a shame it was that there was only room for one hunky male body at a time.

We spent most of the morning cleaning up ourselves, Billy's kit and the boat. I was worried that after our frantic sex Billy would be embarrassed and want to keep his distance, not that he had much of an option in the cramped space below decks on the yacht. But I needn't have worried, he followed me around like a devoted puppy, eager to help with everything, asking loads of questions about the boat's equipment.

"Hey Andy, how do you know where we're going? Once we get away from land all you can see is water. No streams, buildings, just miles and miles of fuck-all."

"Look" I showed him, "see this unit here. It's the GPS, you use that in the army, don't you?"

"Yea, it's the same on the sea then?" Billy queried.

"Yep. Exactly the same, uses the American satellite system. It knows where it is to within a few meters. Then what I do is shove in a number of way-points. Places where we need to change course. I pick off the way-points from the chart, string them into a route and the machine tells me where we are, the course and distance to the next way-point and our estimated time of arrival at our destination."

"Hey, is that all? " Billy laughed, "Well if that's all then I'm a navigator."

"Yea. Fine," I told him, "but what happens when the GPS goes pear-shaped? Do you reckon you could you get to where you're going without it?"

"Hmmm. See what you mean," he muttered. Then I gave him a brief outline of what has to be done to work out the position and course to steer without using the electronics.

We spent an enjoyable day in each other's company. I cooked us a good lunch using some of the yacht's provisions and for supper Billy worked some sort of magic on the curious composite rations - compo he called them - that the army had brought. After we'd eaten and cleared up I thought I'd better take another look at Billy's injuries.

"Right Private Benson, Doctor Macdonald will now commence the amputation of your starboard leg!" I announced.

Billy grinned.

"Private Benson, Remove Trousers!" I ordered in my best parade ground voice.

I watched avidly as my private fumbled with his belt, unzipped his cammo trousers and peeled them down. Then he sat back on the bed and I leant in to take a close look at his knee. This, of course, meant that my face was close to his groin. Billy opened his legs wide and I could see that he was becoming aroused. Something solid was appearing inside the soft, thin cloth of his green boxers. I ran my fingers up and down the protrusion.

"This looks serious, Private Benson, you have a serious swelling between your legs. I think that we are going to need some sort of an operation to relieve this pressure!"

"Oh Yes please, Doctor, the swelling is throbbing, it needs some relief."

Reluctantly I tore my attention away from the private's private parts and started to change the dressing on his leg.

"Get your slacks right off," I said, "and I'll take a look at your ankle."

Billy struggled out of his trousers and I removed the crepe bandage from his ankle and saw that the swelling was going down nicely, plus it was returning to a normal colour and he said that it was much less painful. At about 7.15pm - 1915 hours according to Billy - my mobile rang, it was Alistair and he said that the exercise was going well, they were going to bivouac for one more night, tackle one more hill in the morning and they'd be back at the jetty at about noon.

I put the phone back onto the chart table and turned to tell Billy the latest about the mountaineers. He was lying back on the saloon bunk, his legs spread, licking his lips, his eyes full of lust. His expression radiated "I'm yours to command, now and later!" Oh Yes! I really fancied this muscled young red-headed soldier, his gorgeous body, covered by the thin, worn camouflage underwear. His body smell alone was a fantastic turn-on. Come to think of it, I'd always heard that red-heads had a particularly sexy smell to them and this guy was certainly no exception.

One look at his lust-filled eyes and my cock was twitching with excitement. I walked over towards Billy and he stretched out a hand and eagerly rubbed my crotch, pressing against my blue denim and groping my full and raging erection. He gazed longingly at my groin as his eager hand palmed my lewdness. I groaned.

"Want me to rub harder and faster?" he asked. "I need to go harder and faster . . . . . Oh, skipper . . . oh, Andy . . . . oh handsome . . . handsome stud," he mumbled. "I need you so badly."

As he clung closer to my body his studly scent was stronger. Now some guys get turned on by funky body odour and dirty underwear. Despite how hard I try to convince myself I'm not one of those guys, I can't break the habit. I'm turned on by my own body odour when it's particularly ripe and if I happen to like something so personal about myself it makes sense that I'm turned on by the same thing in someone else.

I gazed at his camouflage T-shirt and the camouflage underpants covering his needy, greedy soldier-bum. I looked closely at his clothing and I rubbed them against my cheek and simultaneously adjusted the lie of my cock in the crotch of my jeans. I gazed at his sexy soldier body slumped back on the bunk, bum on the edge, legs sprawled out and slightly apart, showing off his groin in a highly provocative way. His young body was up for grabs. Now I had an uncontrollable urge to see his cock close up again, to smell and taste his soldierly equipment

I still had a massive erection and squeezed it slowly and felt a gob of pre-cum ooze out, excited just to be thinking out the initial stages of what was undoubtedly going to happen. I wanted to pull down his underpants and just do whatever sexy thing I liked with this submissive, red-headed private soldier.

I moved over to the bunk, squatted at the edge and rubbed my hand over the soft cotton of his thin camouflaged underwear. It was warm and soft. He sighed and wriggled into a more comfortable position. Then I placed my face about a foot from his underpants. Just gazing at his cotton covered crotch and remembering how strongly it looked and smelt and tasted, I became so hot that I had to wank my cock but after a few swift strokes Billy's hand shot out and stopped me.

"Don't! Don't waste it. I need your cock. I'm desperate to get fucked. You have to shag me. Fuck my bum. Make me your bum-boy!"

I continued with my exploration becoming a bit more bold. Now I put my head close enough to actually get a scent of his penis, then I sat on the edge of his bunk while I just stared at his covered groin, and I put my hand on his underpants again. My next advance was to get my face right up close to his private parts, my nose almost touching the soft, war-pouch. I breathed in, wonderful all-male secret scents, so private and so very sexy. It was all I could do to stop myself plunging down onto that jewel-sack, frantically rubbing my nostrils over the heavenly smelling soft cotton. I had an irresistible urge to see his cock again, slowly placing my hands on his underpants near his crotch I gingerly pulled back the crotch and looked at his naked cock. I felt as if I had entered a new dimension. My own cock was just bulging, aching to be stroked again.

Billy just stared at me, making no move, surrendering his body to whatever lewdness I wished. I used my thumb and forefinger to lightly stroke up and down the shaft of his cock rearing up above the plump young testicles, standing moistly between his sturdy thighs. Now I had the exquisite sight of his young cock. Now my fumbling fingers were feeling for his cock, needing so badly to touch it. As soon as my hand got next to his cock I slowed my movements and just let my hand rest on his cock. But now Billy moved, he rolled over so that he ended up on his stomach, with his bum thrust upwards towards me. I gently placed my hand on the bottom of his T-shirt, slowly pulling it up freeing his cotton-covered arse cheeks. As I did this he separated his thighs even more so that his bum was in full view. Fully available. Like a randy bitch begging for a randy dog to shag him.

Proceeding very quietly, but shaking with sexual excitement, I put my face close to his cotton covered bum. This was disgusting, I felt I was that randy dog, but Oh it was So . . Very . . Sexy. A most gorgeous, deep smell arose from the thin cotton underwear covering his private parts. A man's bum, his most intimate place. And it smelt glorious.

What the hell. This private soldier was totally under my power. I just knew I could do to his compliant young body whatever dirty, sexy thing I wanted. I reached for the waistband of the thin green underpants and pulled them down to his ankles and then the underpants were dragged over his feet and free from his sweaty body. I snatched them up and held them to my nose. Soft, sexy, scented cotton. Eagerly I sniffed, deeply into the pouch. The soft cradling for this stud's genitals. What a sexual thrill. Sweaty male genital, wonderful odours.

What a heady smell, my cock stiffened even more. I stared down at his beautiful arse and his plump balls. I saw yet again how wonderfully beautiful a male's arse could be. He had a deep tan across his back and upper thighs, but very soft white arse cheeks, with clear tan lines. I placed my right hand on my cock and began to squeeze gently, and then began some soft stroking motions. Instinctively, I placed my left hand on his top arse cheek and began slow circular strokes. I did this for a few minutes and then knew I had to have him.

I bent over Billy's recumbent body and rolled him over onto his back and held my head over his crotch, the scents made me dizzy. Tentatively I put out my tongue and licked at his cock. Salty, sweaty and oh so manly. It reared up out of the thick, ginger groin-scented hair. It was rampant and glowing. I began sucking him in earnest. I had him right on the edge. Then I rolled him over and plunged my face into his ginger-haired crack. He didn't seem to mind a bit. On the contrary, Billy groaned with pleasure and wriggled his bottom while I sniffed and licked his arse.

'Oh, do it to me, Skip. I want you so badly!' he moaned, and I took that as my invitation. Holding my anxious throbber, I aimed it at the tiny pink hole, cramming my cockhead in.

"'Ow! It hurts."'

'Relax my private soldier, I'll go slow.'

I crammed more cock in what I was sure was a fairly new to be being fucked bum.

'So big . . . . don't know if I can take it . . . . . oh fuckin' 'ell'

'Sure you can, soldier.'

I felt his arsehole expand. I stayed still.

He moved around a bit.

I began to slowly screw him.

'Yeah, fuck me!' he was soon begging.

Sitting back on my heels, I watched my engorged cock plunge in and out of the secret hole like a piston. He bucked back. Mounted on my soldier-boy, braced on my elbows and knees, I pumped my prick into his eager arse.

'Oh fuck Yes . . . . it's so hard. Fill me. Use meeeeeeee.'

I rammed his arsehole. But I was so excited by getting to fuck him that I couldn't hold back. Plunging in all the way, my legs trembling uncontrollably, I blasted spurts of hot, sticky semen deep into his arseguts. Staying still, I clutched his sweaty body until my cock plopped out. I noticed that he still had a big boner from being fucked and I was anxious to relieve his dick. Scooting down, I held his long, fat, uncut cock that any man would be proud of. I swabbed my tongue across the bloated crown and tasted the sticky goo. I opened my mouth and swallowed his cock down to the root, the smelly ginger bush.

Urgently I deep-throated his cock in a steady cocksucking rhythm, eyeballing him and seeing his rising orgasmic agony. This was heaven, sucking a gorgeous soldier boy. Then I felt a trickle of sweet creamy jizz in my mouth, then wad after wad. By now he was panting, sweating and grunting with pain/pleasure but as I gazed at his handsome young soldier's face I knew that very soon he would sleep the sleep of the truly fucked.

I'd set my watch alarm for 7.00am . . . . .

Shortly before noon a call from Alistair. The guys would be at the jetty in about half an hour.

"Right Billy, you put the kettle on and get a brew going, I'll take the boat ashore and start ferrying the guys back.

By the time I'd motored across to the shore the soldiers were already there. I had been dreading what sort of state they'd be in having been swarming all over the countryside for two nights. I didn't see how, with one shower and a very limited supply of water, let alone hot water, they were ever going to get themselves sorted out. So I was surprised to find them all shiny and clean - except for their gear which looked a bit the worse for wear.

"Hey Andy, good to see you!" said Alistair.

"You too, but hey I thought you guys would be in a hell of a state," I said with a grin.

"Nope. We stopped off at a Youth Hostel and got ourselves a triple-S," he said.

"Huh?"

"Shit, Shave and Shampoo!" Alistair explained.

"Oh, right, great. I was wondering how we were going to get the guys cleaned up. I bet that shower must've been just awesome."

"How's young Benson?" asked Alistair.

"Oh he's fine," I said, "the swelling on his ankle gone right down and the cuts on his knee looked fine each time I changed the dressing." I didn't add that he'd developed a secondary swelling and that I'd provided a certain amount of therapy to help him along.

I ferried the guys, three at a time, back to the yacht and when I'd got them all on board, Alistair said:

"OK Andy. We'll have a good meal at Sixteen hundred and then I'd like to sail at Nineteen hundred hours if that's all right with you."

"What time's that?" I asked - and I heard Billy chuckle.

"Nine o'clock then. I'd like to get under way at nine and make a passage to Ullapool and then if you'll get us ashore there I want to do another patrol in the hills above Ullapool."

"Sure, no probs," I replied but I reckoned to myself it must be a bit tough on the lads with them having only just got back from the last lot of hill-bashing. Still that was not my problem. I'd already worked out the passage plan and I was happy to be getting to sea again having swung round the anchor for a couple of days, even though the entertainment had been something else. Billy and another of the guys prepared a gargantuan 'compo' meal and I took some of the guys up on deck where we stowed the inflatable boat and its engine and got the sails and sheets ready for the evening departure.

That night we had another fantastic sail. This time I left Alistair and Jamie to keep their own watches while I dozed a bit and kept an eye on things down below at the chart-table.

We arrived after lunch the next day and as soon as we'd let go the anchor, the guys got their gear ready for their patrol. Jamie had a good look at Billy's injured leg.

"Alistair, can you come and have a look at Benson?" he asked.

The two of them peered at the young soldier's leg.

"How's it feel Benson? What do you think about the patrol?"

"Och I reckon I'm fine Sir," Billy answered.

"Hmm. No, I don't think so. That leg was in a pretty bad state only two days ago. OK it's seems to be healing well but I really don't think you can carry a full pack and climb a couple of 3,000 peaks. Tell you what," and he turned to me, "do you mind looking after him again? And what I'd really like is if you can get him ashore after you've landed us and he can get a taxi to the local hospital and get checked out."

"That's not a problem." I said and - Yessssss! I thought to myself. Yes! I reckon I could just about stand another two sex-crazy nights fucking with the young, ginger soldier.

Alistair called the local hospital, explained who they were and what they were doing and fixed for Billy's injuries to be checked out that afternoon.

"Fuckin' skiver," I heard the whisper from the f'o'csle, "fuckin' bumboy skiver. Probably offered his pretty little ginger arse to the skipper."

I knew who it was, it had to be Iain McNeil. Billy blushed scarlet. Some of the other lads sniggered. But it was all fixed and we soon had the boat inflated, the engine mounted and fired up and I was ferrying the lads ashore again or their second session of mountain- bashing..

Once they'd all got ashore and on their way, I helped Billy down into the boat - with a few lewd gropes and a lot of childish giggles - and we landed at the slipway. I left him perched on a bench while I went to find a taxi. We both climbed in and were driven to cottage hospital in the town.

There wasn't much going on when we got there and they were obviously expecting the wounded warrior, as a result of Alistair's phone call. Billy was spirited away behind a curtain and there was a lot of muffled giggling from the two young nurses as he reluctantly dropped his trousers and waited on the bed for doctor to examine him.

I heard some muttered conversation and quite soon Billy re-appeared.

"How's it going?" I asked him.

"Oh fine. Everything's healing well. The doctor 's taken the stitches out. He say's it's just a question of time now."

We took the taxi back to the yacht and had no sooner got back on board than my mobile rang. It was Alistair:

"Hello Andy, 'fraid I've got another wounded warrior for you. Not as bad this time but He's got to come back to the boat. He really shouldn't stay out on the hill tonight. We've evacuated him down to the road and I've arranged for the local police to bring him down to the harbour. They should be there any time now. I'd be grateful if you could meet them with the dinghy and add the casualty to your collection. The rest of us will be back at dusk tomorrow night as planned. Can you cope?

"Sure Alistair," answered. No probs. I'll look after the halt and the lame. See you tomorrow then."

Shit. That would fuck up our fun tonight. Two's company but three would most definitely be a crowd. I wonder which of the soldiers it would be . . . . . .

(Shall I continue . . . . and write Part III?)