"Watch out for the quiet ones" I always heard and the axiom was usually followed by a chuckle. Sometimes a hand would tussle my wild blonde bordering on light brown hair.
I was a quiet one...still am.
My life through high school was pretty tame. I did ok grade wise, had a few friends with whom I hung out now and then and dated some girl from church. I even took her to my prom. And late in the night as a bunch of us celebrating the fantasy of freedom, I stripped naked and ran into the lake with the rest of them.
I remember I jacked off when I woke up the next day with images of the naked buttocks and flopping penis of my friends from the night before. It was one of the most rocking orgasms I had had to date.
I knew why. I think I always knew. But usually when I masturbated it was for the sheer self indulgent sensations I gave to my skin and the deep down layers of gut muscles that quivered wonderfully.
Sure sometimes I remembered Todd or Ralphie naked when I did it, but their naked images faded as I foudn that by pulling on my nipple with one hand while masturbating, an electric shock stabbed through the length of my slim torso and made my lower abdomen feel even better.
The smooth skin under my balls fascinated me as I pet it, slapped it and rubbed it hard.
A finger teasing around the edge of my butthole made my neck shake, let alone the feeling of fingers and an occasionally stolen vegetable used to open my anal muscles. I once slept with a cucomber still inside me. It provoked some dreams athat I'd rather not admit to.
But when I wasn't making my body excited and exhausted, I was one of the quiet ones.
When I told my parents I joined the Army, they stared at me as if I had gone crazy. Afterall the country was conducting a war in some very hot desert location at the time. And I had already been accepted to college. My parents had dutifully saved money since I was born so I could go to college too.
"I don't want to keep going to school, at least not now. I need to do something else" was all I could say.
Maybe that was it or the fact I was bored being a student. Perhaps I knew I led a boring life and needed to see if there was something more in me then being quiet.
It could be I thought of being in the same bedroom with a bunch of men, standing in a crammed shower naked with bodies moving around each other. Or it might have been those damn TV commercials.
I wasn't sure if I could be all that I could be let alone what or who I was.
The Army taught me to yell, to strain, to grunt, to curse, to roll around in the mud with other men and not care my cock was hard since it was hidden under my baggy uniform.
The Army gave me the opportunity to sleep next to a fellow soldier in a very small tent although separted by our repective sleeping bags, it was close. And after hearing one grunt as he jacked off inside his bag one night, I knew I was where I needed to be. A few other nights of sharing the same activity we became close friends.
Months into the new world of uniforms, shaven heads and hard ons, life began to blossom for me. Clemmons, my tent mate, invited me to join him and some others on a weekend in his Uncle's motel.
It had pool and we swam almost the entire weekend. Speedos, trunks and underwear adorned our very white bodies. We all shared one room. The king size bed, couch and floor provided room for the group of us as Clemmons' Uncle could only spare one room.
It was the same as the barracks with us walking around naked or wearing towels. The bathroom door was nearly always opened. I noted early that the guys shared the tub shower.
Clemmens offered to give me a back rub and I let him while the TV blared and the other guys drank beer and cursed. My towel gone, his hands moved over me more thoroughly then I was ever able too.
When he turned me over my erection made the group laugh. But Clemmons just told them to shut up as he grasped it and took me on a ride to orgasm that was beyond that post prom event.
As I recovered, my eyes discovered we had stimulated our fellow platoon members to immitate our search for release. Hands and mouths were on each other.
Clemmons had his revealed cock in hand as he knelt by me. I'm not sure I questioned whether I knew what I was doing or not. But I got on my hands and knees and went down on Clemmons. I knew to cover my teeth with my lips. I wanted it to gag me and go as deep down my throat as possible.
I swallowed every drop of him.
We showered together letting our soapy hands move over each others' bodies and stroke each other for a second explosive release.
The group ate pizza ordered in, returned to the pool for a night of waterpolo shared with some other guests, raced laps and when prompted by the motel clerk, finally gave in to the inevitable night.
We knew the next day we'd return to the base, the same barracks, the muscle stretching maneuvers, the pup tents and the promise of enemy threats.
Nobody turned the lights on. Nobody spoke. Even the bathroom lights werent' turned on as bodies moved to and from it.
The rustle of wet shorts ended and the glow of the TV screen displayed naked men and women doing what they do.
And we, in the darkness of satisfaction, touched, licked, sucked and fucked the night long. I didn't say "no", I endured some pain and wanted more, I tasted more of my fellow soldiers, I wanted more.
We drove back the next day laughing at our pool antics, the officers and seargants we had escaped from for two days. We nudged each other enjoying the freedom to do so.
I opened Clemmons fly and sucked his cock despite the others yelling at us and despite the threat of passing truckdrivers seeing us. I didn't care, I wanted to swallow him once again before I couldn't anymore.
Soon the others continued joking, talking, cursing while I continued until I was licking his drops from my lips. He patted my near shaven head not sahying a word. He didn't need to.
The desert wasn't just hot, it was threatening in many ways from insects to enemies. The even more dangrous enemy was ourselves. Fearing insanity brought on by fear we found solice in each other.
Most had been part of our platoon in the states. A few others were new to our group but quietly merged with us in the darkness of the tent set aside for that purpose.
R&R would find us together with a few separating to indulge hetrosexual activities. But most of us acknowledging the local anti-prostitute teachings, spooned together at night without speaking of our needs but satisfying them willingly.
College seemed different then what I imagined it would be. It wasn't like high school at all. Instead it was an opportunity to learn things I needed to know to earn money, to buy things and to enjoy life.
It was different too because I was different. I knew more about myself. I wasn't so quiet anymore.