"Oh yea. Fuck Him" Hold on, let me turn off Pulp Fiction (it's at my favorite part, you know) Anyway, I hear you want to know how to fuck a military man the easy way. Well I have something here for you, this did work once, although some things have been added for dramatic effect or some shit. I was never good at explaining my writing. Anyway, enjoy: I am an officer in the Marine Corps. When I was stationed in Maryland, I often found myself eyeing all the gorgeous hunks walking around the base. I even bought a pair of large wraparound shades, just so I could look at them and they couldn't tell. I didn't know of anyone else that was gay on the base, so I couldn't really approach anyone for fear of getting nailed. But one day, and interesting prospect opened up. One Tuesday night, I attended one of those classes taught by civilian employees (just so they could earn a little extra cash) discussing how to interrogate someone without them being able to recognize you. These course methods were usually taught to use on officers involved in cases, or on P.O.W.'s, but I saw a different use. The following Thursday, I decided I was finally gonna get some of the first class man-meat that was walking around. I went to the base clinic after hours. It was fairly easy to break in, they don't expect people on a base to steal. It took about an hour to find what I was looking for: Chloroform. For all those chemical nerds out there, can you guess what Chloroform is? That's right, it's a liquid that when inhaled causes people to pass out. (If you haven't caught on by now, your a damn lame excuse of a horny faggot, or woman.) I then began to strategize on Friday. I saw Private Steve walking around the gym. Target sighted!! He was so well designed. He had a huge chest, beautiful legs, and his huge gym short bulge left something to be desired. I was ready to see Private Steve in private with his privates. I stalked him around for a week, attempting to learn his patterns and what he did. And finally, I saw an opportunity. On base, there are several unused buildings next to the railroads, which were heavily used during the two world wars (I was on an OLD base) and Steve had to walk right through them to get to P.T. every Monday morning. Locked on Target!! On Monday morning about an hour before Steve was supposed to cross through, I woke up, got my bag of tricks, and ran out the door. I showed up about 15 minutes before the checkpoint. I checked my bag for everything I needed. (I had reached the point of no return.) It was still nice and dark so I could get him pretty easily. Five minutes and counting!! I had to move my jeep into the railroad tracks so no one would see it. There came Steve, in a sweat shirt with "MARINES" across the top. I was mesmerized at that beautiful chest, I almost missed my chance. I ran up behind an old truck in a shadow. Steve ran by. I got my bottle and put a little chloroform on a napkin. I jumped up on to some crates, leaving my little cassette recorder playing the bate. COUGH, COUGH. The tape recorder began coughing, sounding like a wounded man. Steve, curious at this, walked closer, and finally right up to it. "Hey," (Oh god it was a beautiful deep man voice) "this is just a tape rec--" I had jumped and landed on his back. My weight finally subdued him, along with the soaked napkin. I dragged him to the jeep, put him in the back, and covered him with some pipes and old sacs. Looked like a regular truck bed to me. I took him to my room quickly, before all the other studs around the joint woke up. I locked the door, closed the shades, and made sure to gag and blindfold my smorgus (I don't give a shit if I spelled that right, it is a damn porn story, damn it) board. I pulled off his sweatpants, and his sweat shirt, revealing a green marine issue shirt, and a pair of green briefs. I pulled silk ropes from my bag of tricks, and tied him to the four bed posts. Damn good looking feast, and I wasn't about to wait for the guest of honor. I started by rubbing my hands all over his sweet chest, very soft with the green shirt on. Oh well, that just had to go. After an extreme fit of passion in ripping the damn shirt off, I licked every inch of that washboard with my tongue. He began to wake up, so I pulled out something else I had. I put one of those vocalizers for mute people on my neck with a strap. Now, all I had to do was just whisper, and it would sound like an electronic voice, and not mine. "Wuh?," his deep hot marine stud voice asked, "what da hell's goin' on?", muffled through the gag. I whispered, and the machine dictated. "Quiet, beast." I tightened the gag before he could respond, and he began to buck up and down. I got up and ate breakfast and watched "The Price is Right". When I came back he was still bucking, so I went and did some other things. I called my mom, checked my snail mail, and did some paperwork. I went on-line, checked out some of my favorite sites, (which strangely enough all seem to be listed on "Men on the Net") and by the time I returned, he was worn out. I got on him and rubbed through his hair, and pinched his cheek and stuff, just to piss him off, so he would buck some more and wear out some more. I came back and rubbed his sac through his tight briefs. It looked so hot and left so much to the imagination. Oh well. (yeah, damn straight, imagination my ass)! I consumed his entire 9.5 inch cock in one shot, he began to moan through the gag. Since he didn't know it was a guy, I went ahead and took off the voice gizmo, cause it was making me choke on his manhood. I made girlish moans just so he wouldn't be so alarmed (just because I'm gay doesn't mean he shouldn't have a good time). All of the sudden, the phone rang. I got up and answered it. And came back to my man. He was kinda violated looking. That big bad hot ass macho jock soldier was putty in my hands. I eyed some equipment that I was going to use to torture him with. Hit the on button. VROOM. Meet Mrs. Hoover, Steve. Man that must have hurt. The noise of the vacuum was barely enough to keep that squeal down. Damn. I sucked and played with his balls while he took the super blow job. Lucky for him, it wasn't and upright. I found some other things to use. I flipped that bitch over (they were magic ropes) (okay this is where some of that made-up shit could be mixing in) (no shit) and stuck a cucumber in his tight virgin asshole, then I got a tac hammer and began ramming that shit in his hole (that really happened folks), without even cum to grease it up. Yow! Yow! A few carrots. Now that's what I called vegetable medley. I put my electric sander on low and buffed up his ass a bit. He was my nap pillow for about as long as I wanted to taste marine ass. I decided to let him pleasure me a bit now. I took his face and began fucking it. What would any straight guy do. "Damn it STEVE! Woh boy, a little too eager." I twisted his balls in one completed rotation, clockwise and counter just to give him an idea of what the hell he was going to do. I fucked his face for a while, sucked on his balls, cupped 'em, licked 'em (I like balls, what can I say) and took a polaroid of the mastered trophy. Nightfall was approaching. I took all his clothes and burned them. When morning came I shipped his ass to the middle of the P.T. field, and staked him right in the middle of it. Put a little sign on his chest reading, "sorry I'm late sir" took a pic of that, and left. Of course he didn't get in trouble after he explained to the Captain. But I saw him in the locker room a week later, stark nude. He turned around, and looked at me, chomped on a carrot, winked, and went into the showers. Um, okay. Shit.
