Warning! This story is a work of erotic fiction written for the purpose of pure entertainment. The story contains sexually explicit behavior between consenting males. If you are not of legal age to read such material or are offended by this type of writing do not read any further.
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E-mail: bn2rumpranger "at" yahoo "dot" com Subject line: Christmas Cocks.
Christmas Cocks By The Rumpranger
Chapter 32: Time For Meditation and Precum
Well into the afternoon at Fort Sam I continued to slouch on the brown leather loveseat located in the company dayroom. I was depressed and been so since learning about Mike's murder. Deep into thought with my left leg hung over the end of the furniture. The television continued droning on one mindless show after another, while I was thinking about Mike and how I'd gotten into this predicament. Since my arrest all I had was idle time on my hands to contemplate my fate.
I wished that the 1SG had some detail or job for me. With a pillow propping up my upper body my left hand was buried well into my Army pants petting my cock and caressing my balls. My fingers were subtly exploring every sensuous millimeter of my steely rod. I recalled how Mike used to compliment me on the beauty of my cock, flaccid or fully erect, as had others before him. He was taken with how the stood at attention.
Mike told me that my erect penis reminded him of a cock scepter of regal grandeur with its bejeweled crown, pointing towards the sky with a slight curve back towards my abdomen. He was drawn to my prominent pink cockhead that adorned the top of my scepter, spending much time caressing and lapping at it with his tongue. I never got tired of him telling me that my cockhead was the most beautiful glans he'd ever seen.
Since my youthful days of show and compare with other boys I'd become accustom to such compliments about the comeliness of my cock, especially the knob. From what I'd seen I'd been blessed with an extraordinarily good looking cock. Now, I hadn't been blessed with the biggest piece of meat in the market, but it was more than adequate. A couple of my cousins as well as a high school friend definitely had me beat when it came to size, but I'd come to discover over time that size isn't everything. In fact, sometimes a cock that is too big can adversely impact a sexual relationship.
As I thought about these things I was absent-mindedly playing with my steely hard cock, softly caressing the spongy head of it. I was mulling my situation with regard to my departed companion and lover. I wished that Mike was still around to hold me and stroke me to fruition. I hadn't had any quality time to grieve my loss.
I'd been locked up since my arrest immediately after returning to Fort Sam from Christmas leave; therefore, was unable to attend Mike's funeral. I'm sure considering the circumstances and the unflattering accusations made by Mike's father that I would not have been welcome at his full military honor memorial and burial service. I kept asking myself, was the ban on gays in the military really worthwhile? Did that ban and the fact that Mike and I were a gay couple living together play any part in his death?
Only a handful of people knew Mike and I were, in fact, a gay couple living together. Most people we associated with thought we were simply off base roommates and that is what I'd told the Army investigators and police. I knew there was some reason early on in our relationship that we each had our own bedroom although I didn't sleep in mine but a handful of times. In my short amount of time in the Army I'd heard and seen much in the way of negative attitude and behavior directed towards soldiers and civilians suspected of being gay by other soldiers.
Even though it violated certain rules straight soldiers enjoyed sitting around making up or passing on the slur ridden jokes and stories about gay guys. Many times directing the slurs towards civilians or soldiers they suspected were homosexual. I often wondered, was this a ploy to get some type of pissed off reaction out of the guys or gals they presumed to be gay, or was it to cover their own misguided sexual identity.
The anti gay behavior wasn't born in the military; it was something soldiers brought with them from their civilian culture, and was fostered by an anti gay sentiment in the military. I remember the same types of attitude and behavior from my high school days growing up in the conservative religious culture of the Midwest.
Hell, my cousins, friends and I discovered the pleasures of sexual contact when we were kids around ten or eleven. Once we found the pleasure of touching another boy's hard penis it was over for us. We were tempted and succumbed to the sins of the flesh. More often than not the devil wins out when you're a kid and with the devil onboard you indulge in sinful play with each other because all is forgiven when you went to church.
Of course we all had been taught in Sunday school and church that homosexuality and even sex outside marriage was a sinful act, but we couldn't resist the temptations of the flesh and the pleasure that came with it. Our parents told us not to let another touch us in the private area of our body and for us to refrain from playing with Mr. Penis. Any time a parent tells you not to do something that's a signal to try it.
Yes, my parents called it Mr. Penis or Peter in our birds and the bees talk. I heard the penis referred to by uncles and grandfathers as peter, pecker and prick. I think I got the "talk" about the time I was nine or ten years old. By that time I'd already had a memorable erection and it felt great to play with that firm little pecker. I recall the first time I measured my penis.
I stole my mom's measuring tape from her sewing basket. Then my cousin and I measured each other's peckers. My first measurement was a little less than three inches in length and approximately the thickness of one of the breakfast sausages mom used to cook up. That first secret session took place in the closet of my bedroom using a flashlight to illuminate darkness.
Our young sexual encounters and experimenting was always done in secret and remain so today. Anything sinful was done secretly. Anytime we boys got together we couldn't wait to steal away to some secret location where we could enjoy caressing and touching each other in a sensual manner. At some early point during my mental masturbation session my hand found its way inside my Army issue pants targeting my manhood. This was a behavior developed back in my high school days.
Any time I needed to ponder on a situation, study or just be alone I found my hand buried inside my pants. Other boys did the same. During those early years of sexual exploration I quickly discovered it always felt so much better to have another person jerk me off than do it myself. Once we began comparing cocks and other bodily attributes there was envy on the part of some boys.
The green-eyed monster would rear its head at times during our initial sexual play games. Such things as size of another boy's penis, flaccid and erect, would spark jealous comments and cat calls. Size was monumental during our youthful years for some reason. This seemed to be especially true for the differences in a boy's flaccid size. Because slack was the way we viewed our peers on a daily basis at school in showers after physical education. I quickly discovered the deceit of the flaccid penis when I saw some of the smaller limp guys erect. They became very large when erect.
Erections were mysterious and intriguing for me as a boy. I would marvel at how big that small little pecker became when erect. Of course erections could be embarrassing. Other issues that brought about comments from peers were who could shoot the furthest, the volume or who had or did not have pubic hair as we began to entry puberty. Then came the circle jerks.
Generally these secretive sessions took place with older boys. Mutual masturbation which was quite common among boys eventually led some of us pairing off to orally pleasure each other.
Most of the time when we first began having oral sex it was done in the sixty-nine position. This meant that both parties were consenting and would do each other simultaneously. You see there was deep seated fear among us boys that if only one party went down on the other then the receiver wouldn't pay him back in kind, but the biggest fear was that the receiver might rat out the giver telling others that the giver was a queer.
Queer or faggot was not a label which any young boy wanted to be tagged with as a kid growing up. Of course that's true for many adolescents and adults. Yes, during those youthful years paranoia ran live and well among us boys that were sexually active with each other. We feared being caught, but moreover we felt the pleasure of it all was worth the gamble. From that first touch of pleasure it was Katie bar the door.
Another important thing that is worth mentioning is the fact that there was nothing romantic during these secret rendezvous: we just lusted after pure pleasure of the flesh and release. For me there was nothing more awesome and sensuous than having another person jerk me off or suck my cock.
The first time I got my cock sucked as a boy was indescribable. I think it was a cross between watching my first horror movie and the fourth of July fireworks celebration. In my opinion, this experimental period of time during a young boy's life is not necessarily a period that defines him as a homosexual, but rather a period of discover and experimentation. And then when we discovered that we could produce semen that was a day with different meanings to different boys. Some boys entered puberty producing that mysterious sticky substance earlier than others.
My fingers could feel the precum beginning to flow from my piss slit. Between all the thought about my younger days and playing with my genitals was sexually exciting me. My body was producing a slight smell of sex that was lightly permeating the air in the confines of the dayroom. My nipples had grown hard from arousal and were budding through my tan T-shirt. They were hard enough to cut glass.
As I thought about my youthful days my precum coated finger was circling around the super sensitive purple ring of my cockhead. I kept was rubbing the leakage from the piss slit over the crown and around the ring. Oh God, that felt so good. My glans was so sensitive to touch. I sensed that I was close to blowing a load. I hadn't had a decent orgasm since Christmas leave with my cousins and I needed to unload.
All I'd done since being arrested was secretly masturbate a few times while fantasizing about sexual situations involving Mike and my cousins. As my breathing became more labored I was about ready to take leave of my spot on the loveseat and head towards the latrine where I would rub one out.
Suddenly, I was brought back to reality. I heard voices outside. I looked up at the clock and saw it was almost time for evening chow. I couldn't believe I been in the dayroom all afternoon meditating and playing with my cock. What was more unbelievable was that I hadn't shot a load in my drawers.
The door burst open. I pulled my hand out of my pants and sat upright in time to see the 1SG appear behind me saying, "This is off the record Specialist Masten, but it looks as though you're off the hook. The police have captured Sgt Alvarez's killer. He's in custody in San Antonio where he's being questioned."
"Who, where?" was all I could squeak out trying to act nonchalant reaching for my ACU jacket laying on the far end of the loveseat, while trying to hide the noticeable bulge in my camouflage Army pants as the 1SG moved around in front of me.
"According to my sources there will be a news conference sometime tomorrow, probably late morning down in San Antonio. They will announce the arrest and also announce that you are no longer a suspect or connected in anyway with the murder. Until then you're going to be placed under lock and key. So, from this moment on you won't be allowed to talk to anyone until the announcement is made. The MP detail from the Provost Marshall's office is on the way to take you into protective custody `till tomorrow," the 1SG said smiling down at me.
I sat there stunned by the 1SG's revelation saying, "Where?" Hoping the 1SG hadn't gotten a whiff of the sex that was in the air.
That was all I got out of my mouth before I heard the door of the dayroom burst open again. Two burly stony-faced Military Police officers, one a Sergeant First Class and the other a Staff Sergeant, neither of whom I'd met before entered the room confronting me. The SFC said, "We're from the Provost Marshall's office. We're head of the security detail here for Specialist Donald Masten. We're here to take him into custody."
"That's me," I said raising my hand in a meek manner not wanting to piss off the two gorillas.
"Come on Specialist on your feet let's go," the older Sergeant growled as I got to my feet. I turned around putting my hands behind me surrendering to the cops, but neither MP made a move to handcuff me as had been the protocol in the past.
"Where am I going?" I asked grabbing my ACU jacket and headgear off the loveseat.
"Your attorney and the PM have ordered you placed in protective custody until tomorrow Specialist," the Staff Sergeant barked, "that's all you need to know."
With that said I put on my Army jacket and beret. Then I was abruptly whisked from the dayroom with an MP on each side of me to an awaiting Chevy Suburban. I heard the 1SG say as we exited, "You take good care of that boy he's been through enough hell," wagging his finger at the two cops.
God, I couldn't believe it, there was actually a person in the Army who cared about me and my well-being. I rode in silence as the MP detail transported me to post transient lodging facility where I would be sequestered until the next morning. Once secured in my room my security detail ask me if there were any personal items I needed. I replied, "Sure, I'd like a clean uniform, change of the underwear, socks and my toiletry items that are back in my company area."
I hadn't a chance to get anything before I was abruptly brought to the lodge. I needed to shower and change clothing before meeting the political power-brokers in San Antonio, Army brass and my attorney tomorrow.
"Okay, we'll have the new guy that's coming on duty stop by your unit to pick your personal items and uniform," the senior NCOs said as they prepared to leave me in the room.
Of course before the two Army cops departed the Staff Sergeant shook me down for my cell phone hidden in my ACUs. The other one called the desk to make sure that I couldn't place any out going calls or receive any unauthorized incoming calls. The Military Police reminded me that I was to stay put for the night and that there was a guard just outside and then they departed.