My Marine Part 1
DISCLAIMER ========== This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. The author asserts all legal and moral rights (copyright (c) 2002 - psun@hotmail.com) to this work and you may not copy it or transmit it in any way except in its entirety and with this disclaimer. This story features descriptions of sex between males: - if such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you're under the legal age to read such material, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you don't like, or are offended by such material, please DO NOT READ ON. And any comments - brickbats or bouquets, send them over to psun@hotmail.com And if you find that you like what you're reading, visit my page at http://www.geocities.com/savante_2000/Write.html
"Fuck you!" Of course as usual that was my fondest wish come true but I certainly hadn't imagined it happening this way. Being crushed against the cabin floor by a hard, sweaty Playgirl fantasy come true with wild passion in his dark eyes, his muscular, hairy arms trapping mine above my head while he ravaged me - it sounded incredible last night while I lay hidden in a desert tent wet and dreaming but the reality couldn't have been more different. Sure, the man was hot as hell, hard as steel and rank with musky man-sweat but he obviously didn't have any plans to fuck me hard on the desert floor. More's the pity since I certainly wouldn't have resisted if he had had any such ideas. But with my luck, this particular stud was more likely to flatten me for running away from him for the second time in the past two days. It was just my luck to finally get a gorgeous Marine with the body of a god and the face of an angel, a living, breathing Ken doll with muscles to boot - and to have him wanting to tear my head off. Could God tempt me any more? But a pretty face didn't mean that would make me anymore amenable to his wishes. Initially when he'd come into the make-shift infirmary in Kandahar, he'd been all shiny smiles, aw-shucks-how-ya-doin and general good will. Oozing charm - and a more than healthy dose of testosteroney sex appeal, he could get anyone to agree to anything. Except insane contrary little me. Just because Marine Ken flashed that winsome smile at me and made his orders sound like a favour didn't mean I had to follow them. "Let me up!" I yelled at him. Yelled needlessly, I thought to myself as I seriously doubted that he would listen since I'd deliberately done the opposite of everything he'd said since we met. But I reminded myself that it was all for a good cause. Lieutenant Commander Michael Muldoon was no idiot and he stared back coolly. The earlier rage that had fueled him as he'd torn down the door seemed to have left him and he replied calmly. "And have you knee me in the balls again, Doc? Not fucking likely." Like I had any other recourse earlier. After all, the man stood at least 6 inches taller than my own 5'8" and he outweighed me by at least 50 pounds. All of it hard, testosterone-fueled muscle. Sure, I could have put up quite a fight but frankly speaking, when he'd broken down the cabin door with his bare hands, I knew I didn't stand a chance. One quick thump from those fists would have knocked me over. The fact that I'd managed to knee him in the groin was luck all by itself. Just hope those big balls weren't too impaired. That would totally spoil my midnight dream tryst. Much too late, I put on my Boy Scout, choir-boy look and pleaded for some shred of sympathy from the big bad SEAL. "I promise I won't run away again." The disbelieving snort he gave in response didn't bode well for me. "Not good enough, doc. The last time we did this you gave me the same promise. Sorry if I don't hold you to that." "I had no choice," I said quietly. Although I knew it was of no use I continued struggling under him. Although I knew it wouldn't make much of a difference since I was all tied and trussed up. Damn the man knew his knots. "Stop." Cursing softly, he bore down hard against me and trapped my legs under his heavy thighs. Crushing me with his weight his dark, handsome face came right next to mine and he glared at me, barely inches away. "We're not going through that argument again. How many times do I have to..." Putting up a struggle was obviously not one of my best ideas. His very proximity had my breath catching in my throat - and my dick which remained ever hard in his presence started weeping precome. Damn. Just a quick accidental turn and I'd be able to brush my lips against his. Press hard against those amazingly firm yet soft-looking lips, run my tongue past the gentle curve of his lips up to the dent made by the deep dimples that bracketed his smile. Then down that heroic jaw to rub against his bristly stubble. The man continued complaining about my inequities while I ran my gaze down his powerful neck and wondered what he'd do if I bit him right under his collarbone. If only he'd just stop talking long enough for me to stick my tongue down his throat. "Damn it." Those dark eyes flashed. "Are you listening at all?" His voice stunned me and I managed to croak out a reply. "They were going to kill her. I couldn't possibly..." His strong hands crushed mine in a sudden rage. "You ran through enemy fire into a bloody fucking camp to save a three year old girl. And nearly got our asses fried in the process." As he turned to take another deep, fortifying breath, his stubble brushed against my freshly-shaven cheek and I felt a quick tingle. His warm breath burned against the tip of my ear and he surprised me again. Who'd have ever guessed. Mr Macho Marine and sweet, fresh minty breath. Made me wanna swallow him whole. "You didn't have to come after me. I told you guys to leave." "Sorry but I didn't get that particular memo, doctor," he answered dryly, gritting his teeth all the while. Would you know it, the man had perfect teeth. Did they manufacture him in some dream god-hunk Marine camp? If they did, could they pretty please send me one? Sure, that attitude of his stank to high heaven but damn it, I'd still let him fuck me. It was amazing how a year in the wilds of Afghanistan without any sex could turn me into some stark-raving sex maniac. But then again, I'm sure Michael Muldoon could make a straight-laced missionary nun renounce her vows just with one look from those smouldering yum yum bedroom eyes. Marine Ken with sex appeal. "No one asked you to come over here to get me." "I'm sorry but you're wrong there. The President himself ordered your recovery and I'll be damned if I'll let you botch this chicken-shit op up." "I was perfectly fine here. Uncle George didn't have to-" "The fact that you call the most powerful man in the world your uncle answers everything." For the second time he bared his teeth again. I could have sworn that he rained spit on my face as he answered. "You were not fine. You're an American citizen in enemy territory. An idiot, brainless do-gooder who decides to drop by fucking Afghanistan to be a humanitarian!" The quick barrage of fury left me non-plussed and before I could piece together a decent rejoinder, he'd flipped me over his shoulder in a quick, practised move. Like I hardly weighed anything more than a feather. While I'd always hated macho he-man posturings from my ex-boyfriends, I had to admit that this time it gave me a weird, forbidden thrill. Like the first time I'd used a whip and chains on a man. Though I made sure I hadn't left a mark, it had been secretly thrilling to wield that much power over someone. Biting my lip, I wondered briefly whether I had some closet Marquis de Sade tendencies. My brain was already weaving various X-rated fantasies where my Marine Ken was trapped naked and helpless under my power. Silently, he picked up my things with his other hand and slipped out into the night. As we moved away from the make-shift cabin, I looked back up and ventured a question - my voice reduced to a mean whisper. "Hey, where are you taking me?" My question didn't stop him as he continued. "Someplace safe." "Untie me and I'll walk." Although I had to admit, the view from up here was spectacular. His broad, powerful back forming a perfect V with his spine forming a deep valley through the center. And that butt. That perfect, award-winning Muldoon butt looked even better up close and I had to swallow an urge to bite. Hard. Twin, spectacularly sculpted globes of tight, firm male ass with deep dents at the side, just about the size of a man's hands - the perfect size for me to hold on to as he fucked me till my head caved in. "No." Although I could have followed that amazing butt anywhere, that didn't mean he had to know that. "It would be..." "No." "Muldoon." Although the idea of him carrying me sounded like heaven especially since my feet were killing me, I knew it was impractical. Though I was smaller in build, I certainly was no light weight. And with my cock hard as a steel rod in my pants, it wouldn't be long before he felt something. "Don't be ridiculous. I must weigh a ton. We'll move faster if you..." The quick smack on my butt silenced me. The shock in my voice was evident -- as was the sudden burst of feeling that shot straight into my cock. "D-did you just spank me?" "Why?" Turning to me, his grin flashed white in the dark. "Did you enjoy that, honey?" The very fact that I most certainly did enjoy that certainly didn't give him the rights to do so. Though if he'd just tear off those cammies and give me a quickie, I'd certainly let him do whatever he liked. Right here. Right now. "Untie me and I'll show you how much I like it." In answer to my dry reply, his deep chuckle reverberated through his body. "Baby, perhaps later. We don't have time for kinky stuff right now." "Fuck you." "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he said quietly. For a moment the world shifted and I stilled. "What the hell do you mean by that?" Shifting to adjust my weight, he grunted. "You know what I mean." And I knew that I did too. Since the day he'd burst into the infirmary tent with his blatant, earthy curses and guns ablazing, he'd had me all hot and restless for a taste of that hard, sculptured grunt bod. Hardly an hour went by that I didn't think of crawling up to the man and feeling up what lay between his powerful thighs. From what I'd managed to scope out, it seemed as if the good Lieutenant had quite an arsenal packed into his cammies. Though I certainly wasn't a size queen, I couldn't help but wonder what a man could do with artillery that size. Yum. What did this macho marine think about that. As optimistic as I am , I doubt he'd be amused that I wanted to lick him slowly from head to toe. And back again. Sure, being proud and militantly gay was great in any other context but being tied up, helpless and in his care, I didn't care to be beaten up by a musclebound homophobic punk in the middle of nowhere. Suddenly the idea that the man carrying me was more than 6 feet of pure beef and muscle chilled me more than a little. Was he going to stake me out in the middle of the desert?