Marine Squad Sierra Foxtrot

By: Jeff B
(© 2013 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 1

I’ve been with my squad for four months in Afghanistan. There are eleven men and one woman, and all of us range in age from nineteen to thirty years old; Gunny being the old dude. Master Gunnery Sergeant Brian Taylor, a big, stocky guy with a heart the size of Texas and a deadly aim. I envy anyone he calls friend and fear for anyone he’s pointing a weapon at; they’re toast as soon as he squeezes the trigger.

Besides Gunny, there’s a few other’s I’d like to tell you about. The first is Sergeant Tiffany Harris, a third generation Marine from Tupelo, Mississippi. The name Tiffany might give you the idea she’s some pansy-assed valley-girl chick from the burbs, but you’d be dead wrong. Sgt. Harris is probably the toughest female I’ve ever come across, and there’ve been a few. She doesn’t take any crap off anyone, but you always know she’s got your back when the going gets tough. She’s the next oldest of us, at twenty-seven, and is built a little like Gunny, just smaller. She’s about five-eight and one-fifty-five, with red hair and blue eyes. She’s not exactly the type most guys my age lust after, but being the only female in the place, I guess we’ve started looking at her as mom or big sis. Tiff, as we call her, at her request is always ready and willing to listen to us, and to try and make us feel better being so far from home and loved ones. She has an easygoing personality until you piss her off, and will do anything for any one of us; just as we would her.

The next guy I’d like to tell you about is PFC Matt Henderson. He’s a good bud of mine and we’ve been serving together since I got out of boot camp at Parris Island. We met on the helo pad while waiting for our ride to S.O.I. (School of Infantry) and hit it off immediately. Matt is a really intense dude when he’s out fighting the bad guys, but when he’s off duty he’s just about one of the most friendly, easygoing guys I’ve ever met. And he loves to pull pranks; his favorite being to pants someone or walk in while you’re in the latrine and snap a picture of you sitting on the can. He thinks that’s the funniest thing ever, laughing his ass off and then running around showing everyone the picture. Matt is also about the horniest man I’ve ever met; he eats, sleeps and dreams sex. If he isn’t talking about it, daydreaming about it or showing you how he likes to do it, he’s jerking off and wishing he were doing it. I have to admit, he’s a sexy fucker and I’d do him in a heartbeat, but from all I’ve learned about him, I’m guessing he doesn’t swing that way.

Matt has that boy-next-door look to him until he takes his shirt off and you see the tats covering his chest and back. The boy is definitely a proud Marine; he has five Marine Corps tattoos, one American flag tat and one Eagle. Matt is twenty years old and stands about five-eleven. I’m guessing he probably weighs in at one-seventy. He has black hair and killer blue eyes that I sometimes find myself looking into while I’m talking to him. That is if I’m not watching his lips move. I admit it, I’d love to kiss him; he has really full, sexy lips that I’ve spent more than a few moments thinking about. Matt hails from Macon, Georgia and that sweet southern drawl is something to be heard, and makes me just want to listen to him talk.

Now I’d like to tell you about my best bud, and the guy I’ve fallen head over heels in love with but haven’t had the balls to tell him or do anything about it. His name is Joshua Daniel Quinn, and he’s just about the sweetest, sexiest guy I’ve ever laid eyes on.  He’s a PFC, like me, and we met in boot camp, becoming fast friends. I’ll admit it, I actually started talking to him because I thought he was so incredibly hot, but I soon learned there was a hell of a lot more to J.D. than his looks. Everyone in the squad calls him J.D., but I usually call him Josh or Joshua when we’re just talking alone. Anyway, Josh and I have been pretty much inseparable since the second week of boot camp when we had to help each other through drills that week. We’d start screaming and talking shit to each other, just like the D.I.’s did until we completed the task. We’d laugh our asses off afterwards, but we decided it was actually a really good way to keep us both motivated. We managed to make it through boot camp with two commendations each; one for leadership and one for excellent performance.

After boot camp we were sent to Camp Geiger in North Carolina for S.O.I. (School of Infantry). After arriving at S.O.I. we both went to Infantry Training Battalion, since we both were going into the infantry, where we spent two fun-filled months learning how to do everything from killing the enemy quickly and quietly to spotting an IED (Improvised Explosive Device), and then a few days of playing with grenades and fifty-caliber machine guns. After the first two weeks was up we were sent to another part of S.O.I. to learn our chosen M.O.S. (Military Occupational Specialty) of reconnaissance. Part of the reason our friendship developed so quickly was because we were both hell-bent on being Marine Recon; we couldn’t think of anything that would make us more proud than to be a part of such a legendary and honored group of men. We made a commitment to each other the third week of boot camp that we’d be the best fucking Marine Recon they’d ever seen.

Anyway, back to Josh. Like I said, he’s the sexiest guy I’ve ever laid eyes on and part of that is because he’s not exactly what you’d call big. I have a thing for compact guys, and he definitely qualifies. Josh is five feet, eight inches of sweet man. He weighs a hundred fifty pounds and it’s all very well placed. He’s not a scrawny little dude by any means, but he is kind of small, especially for a Marine. He has this really great light blond, reddish hair that’s gotten lighter the longer we spend in Afghanistan, but I’ve seen him naked enough times to assure you that a good Irish, red-head lies underneath the uniform. He also has these incredibly bright blue eyes that I constantly get lost in; it’s like he can see into your soul with them, they’re so bright. He also has a few freckles on the upper part of his cheeks that I think are just cute as hell, but he gets embarrassed when one of the other guys, or especially Tiff, teases him about them. I’ve also spent more than a few minutes, hours, days, weeks and months thinking about his lips. Like I said, Matt has great lips, but they can’t compare to my boy, Josh’s. Oh man… So full and luscious you just want to kiss him all the time.

Then there are the goods from the waist down; oh hell… The boy is what every gay boy dreams of finding in a man. He has this incredible, pure white, hairless ass that just begs to be eaten and fucked; the roundness just beckoning you closer. And then there are the goods on the front side; seven and a half inches of pure fun, with two sweet, tasty looking orbs hanging down in a smooth, hairless sack. I’ve probably jerked off more than a thousand times already thinking about the fun I could have with that piece of meat. And yeah, I’ve seen it hard on several occasions, since we’ve basically lived a bunk away from each other the entire time we’ve known each other. I’ve also watched him jerk off several times, without him knowing, and love the way he strokes his own cock, while pulling on his nuts; it’s a sight that’s made me shoot a load more than a few times.

I guess I’ve pretty much gotten it across that I’m in love and lust with this man. I can’t help it, I think about him constantly and being so close to him drives me crazy at times. I keep thinking that one of these days I’ll work up the guts to tell him how I feel or maybe just kiss him, but I haven’t yet. I don’t think he’d be offended or anything, he’s pretty easy going and comfortable being close to me. Hell, he spends most of the time while we’re off duty watching the tube or playing a video game, lying on me in some form or another. He’s at least had to notice that I get a hard-on from time to time when he’s got his arm or leg close to my crotch. He also doesn’t seem to mind if I lay my hand on top of his head and run my fingers around his hair while he’s spread himself over me, so maybe I’m just being a chicken. Although, just because a guy likes to cuddle with you, doesn’t necessarily mean he wants to get down and dirty with you, does it?

I guess I should take the time to tell you a little bit about me before I go on. My name is Joseph Christopher Ziegler and I’m twenty-one years old; I’ll be twenty-two in about a week. Since Josh and I are kind of known as the dynamic duo around here they all call me J.C. to his J.D., but I usually go by Joe or Joseph. Josh will occasionally call me Joey, but he can call me anything he wants. Besides, it’s really cute when he says it. I’m a PFC, just like Josh; both of us getting our promotions within a week of each other, three months ago. I’m from a tiny, little town in eastern Ohio called Stratton, which is really close to the border of West Virginia. My parents and little brother, Logan, are pretty much the only family I have. My parents are both only children and their parents are dead. My dad works at the power plant in Stratton and Mom is a stay-at-home wife and mom. Logan is in his junior year of high school and giving my parents as much trouble as he can conjure up. They keep telling him they’re going to send him to the Marines, with me, to grow up before he ends up in prison. I think he’s just having a hard time dealing with me being away; the trouble didn’t start until I’d been gone for a month. I’ve written him and talked to him a few times about it, but he’s being stubborn and pig-headed about everything.

I would describe myself as pretty much just your average Joe; no pun intended. I’ve been told by a few girls, and a couple of guys I went to high school with that I’m hot, but I don’t see it. I’m five-ten and a half and weigh one-seventy. I have dirty blond hair and blue eyes, and a few girls have told me I have very kissable lips. I guess I have to agree with them if I look at myself objectively, I do have nice lips. I’m not quite as marshmallow fluff white as Josh, but I do have a light complexion, at least the parts that aren’t really tanned now from the sun and heat of the Middle East. I think my best asset is my legs; they’re like tree trunks from running track in high school and working out. I’ve been working with Gunny to get my upper body to match my legs, but I haven’t seen much progress yet. I guess one benefit of all the legwork I do is I have a really nice ass; even I see that. It’s round and firm, with a light sprinkling of blond fuzz on my cheeks. I know my trench is smooth; I’ve looked at it by holding a mirror below my balls. Speaking of, I have a nice, big set of balls. They always look like they’re going to explode at any minute, and they don’t really hang down much, they’re just there, kind of jutting out and ready to go. It does make me look like I’m packing though, since they hold my cock up a little, pushing it out against my underwear. My cock is seven inches, about average girth and is un-cut, and I guess you’d say I am a shower and not a grower. My cock hangs soft at a little over four inches, so not a whole lot happens to the length when I get a hard-on, but the thickness at least doubles, which I kind of enjoy.

I’ve known I was gay since I was thirteen but I still haven’t really been with a guy; at least the way I’d like to be. I traded blow-jobs with a buddy of mine in high school and that’s the extent of my sexual experience with guys. I’ve dated two girls since middle school; trying to keep the parents off the scent, and did have sex with one of them. I enjoyed it well enough; hell I was seventeen and horny and it was sex, but I really wasn’t all that into it. I spent the whole time pretending she was this hot guy at my school; it was the only way I could stay hard and get off. She broke it off with me about a month afterwards and I decided I’d quit trying to date girls and just throw myself into track and baseball before I joined the Corps. My parents just assumed I was a little jilted and didn’t push me on it. No, I still haven’t come out to them; they wouldn’t be happy about it. My parents are kind of old school and set in their ways; they don’t adapt to change easily. I’ve heard my dad complain my whole life about there being so much gay stuff on television anymore, and what happened to the good old days when it wasn’t so accepted. That pretty much told me everything I needed to know about how they’d react to finding out their oldest son is a cock-smoking homo.

Truth be told, other than the guy I traded blow-jobs with, there isn’t a single person that knows about me. And honestly, I don’t assume he’s gay, he was just curious and he probably assumes the same thing about me. I’ve never had the balls to tell a living soul about the real me, and it kind of bugs me at times. Even with Josh, I know he loves me, but he doesn’t really know me as well as he thinks he does; there’s a part of me I’m keeping hidden from him. I’ve told him, as well as everyone else around here about the two girls I dated, but I try not to go into much detail. Of course, with Matt here, nobody really gets a chance to talk about their own sex life; we get to hear about his and the one he’d like to have.

I guess I should get back on the road leading to where I am now. Josh, Matt and I were in I.T.B. together for the entire two months, though Matt wasn’t going to Recon school, he was going to school for machine guns and mortars. I understand that much better now that I’ve seen him in action; he loves to shoot and blow shit up. After our two months at I.T.B. we found out we were going to Afghanistan, but we didn’t know if we’d be together. I was actually pretty freaked about it; I hadn’t been without Josh by my side in over five months; I didn’t know what I’d do without him.  We were given two days R & R before we had to report to the airfield to go to the Middle East. Matt wasn’t all that far from home so he went home, but Josh and I decided to just kill the time in North Carolina. Two days didn’t really seem like enough to bother with flying home, spending less than a day with family and flying back. I had visions of getting to spend the two nights alone with him in a motel room, but after talking about it, we decided to save our cash and just stay on base. I would’ve given my right nut to spend those two nights alone with him, but I agreed with him about the cash. We spent the two days just hanging out and playing video games and pigging out on junk food.

We boarded a C-130 that was to be our ride to the east coast, and from there we were on a commercial 777 to Frankfurt, Germany. We were then taken to Ramstein A.F.B. by bus and spent a day there before boarding another plane for Kabul, Afghanistan. I was kind of surprised to see a commercial looking 767 sitting at an Air Force Base, but I guess that poor C-130 didn’t have the range to get us there. Besides, the 767 was far more comfortable spending that much time in the air. On the first two legs of our journey we were just twenty Marines, but the 767was packed with over two hundred military personnel from four branches. After what seemed like a week of traveling we finally arrived in Kabul and were taken to the Marine Corps camp and put in barracks for the next three days. Josh and I just kept looking at each other, wondering what the fuck we’d gotten ourselves into.

Matt and I received our orders on that Tuesday morning, telling us we were going to some dog-squat, out in the middle of nowhere village about two hundred kilometers from Kabul and would be with a squad that had lost two Marines in the last two weeks, and had two rotate back home. The odds of survival seemed to be turning against me before I even got my boots dirty. I was also devastated that Josh wouldn’t be coming with us; what would I do without him? The strange part was that he didn’t get any orders at all; they didn’t know he was supposed to be here. I felt like crying when I hugged him goodbye, thinking I may never see him again. The ride to our new home in that Blackhawk helicopter was the saddest ride of my young life and I wanted to hijack the damn thing and turn it around to go get Josh.

The first two weeks at my new post were a blur one minute and terrifying the next; mixed in with a sadness that had consumed me since I’d left Kabul. I was relying very heavily on my training because I was so out of it that I would’ve gotten my head blown off. Gunny wasn’t very impressed with me at first, either. Between my sullen attitude and half-assed attempt at doing my job he was about ready to send me packing. What I didn’t know was that Josh had finally received his orders and they were the same as mine. The commander in Kabul decided he needed one more man at our post, and since Josh was kind of extra as far as he was concerned, it would be the perfect fit. When I heard the helo approaching our little camp I was sure it was my ride out of here, and that I would be kicked out of the Marines and sent home in disgrace. I’m still not sure how my heart survived the transition, but I went from dog-down sad and depressed to ecstatically happy in the two seconds it took me to recognize the man getting off that helo. It almost looked like a love scene from an old movie; the two of us running towards each other and throwing our arms around the other, each trying to squeeze the life out of the other. I felt like crying and laughing at the same time but decided neither would look good and settled on a perma-grin that lasted me the rest of the day.

I still don’t know what Gunny or the rest of them thought about it, but the change in me was like night and day. I went from the sad, sullen young man they’d met and had to deal with for the previous two weeks to the constantly happy, eager, ready to kick ass and take names Marine that I’d so wanted to be when I joined. I had my boy back and life was good again. Like I said, I don’t know what Gunny really thought about the change in me, but he definitely liked it. I did explain to him that Josh and I had been together non-stop for the last five months and I felt like I was missing something not having him there. Gunny didn’t seem to care what caused the change, but he was happy to see it, and proved it by giving me more work. If I wasn’t out on patrol I was cleaning latrines, cooking and doing dishes for the next month. I guess payback is a bitch.

Our little camp isn’t exactly what you’d call a military base, more like a slum project in the ghetto. We have five pre-fabricated buildings that serve as our home, office, kitchen, bathroom and rec-room. Two of the buildings are used as housing, with five men in each, Tiff getting her own room on one end of the command building and Gunny at the other end. We really don’t need much of an office, so their two rooms take up the majority of the building. Keep in mind; these buildings are about twenty by fourteen feet, so it isn’t exactly what anyone would call roomy. The fourth building is our kitchen, chow-hall and rec-room all rolled up into one. We do have satellite T.V., internet and an X-box that a fellow Marine left for us when he rotated back home. The fifth building is split in half basically. The back half serves as weapons and dry storage and the front half has three showers and four sinks in it. The only toilets are porta-potties; one of them outside each housing unit and one outside the command unit; that one reserved for Tiff only. We don’t have to empty them; they are replaced about once a month. It’s not something I ever thought I’d see, but watching porta-potties flying through the air under a Blackhawk is an experience like no other. We also have two up-armored Humvee’s, one of which has a TOW missile launcher on it.

Life here is anything but private. You get to know your brother Marines really well after spending twenty-four hours a day with them. When you’re not out on patrol you have little chance of finding quiet, private time back at base. The rooms in the housing units are separated by thin, plywood walls that don’t even go up to the ceiling; it’s more like a big bathroom stall. We do work very hard at respecting each other’s privacy, but if you have two guys in the same room talking you can hear every word they say to each other. You can also hear them jerking off if you listen closely, and I have; it’s usually enough to get me hard and jerking myself off. I figure if I do it the same time someone else is they won’t hear me. We do have a moaner amongst us, and I’d bet good money it’s Matt. You can tell when he cums; he moans out quietly and then sighs. It’s hard not to laugh.

Josh and I are the two recon guys in our squad, so our job is to hunt down and take out rebels and insurgents in the area. Not to sound too arrogant, but we’ve gotten pretty damn good at it; we’re like a couple of bloodhounds searching for an escaped prisoner. Not that there hasn’t been a few moments when I was convinced we were dead meat, with bullets and grenades coming at us. When we’re not getting shot at we’re walking around and looking in caves and holes in the ground, knowing that any second could be our last. Though Josh and I have had the good fortune and luck to escape injury, we did have one of our crew get shot in the leg a couple months ago; a Private by the name of Adam. It’s hard to see a brother Marine get wounded, but I also felt really bad for the guy; he was so scared and freaked out. He is our youngest brother, at nineteen, and he was convinced he was going to die thousands of miles away from home. He had the good fortune to be out on patrol with Tiff, and she not only got him calmed down, but also got his leg fixed up enough to get him back to camp and picked up by a medivac helo. This happened two months ago and I was sure we’d never see Adam again, but he’s back with us and his leg is just fine.

When we’re not out on patrol it can get incredibly boring around here. If you’re not watching the tube or playing a video game there is absolutely nothing to do. Of course you catch up on sleep as much as you can, but there has to be more to life than sleeping and eating. Like I said, I’ve started working out with Gunny, but even that isn’t what I’d call quality time. One of the few things that makes the down time bearable is Matt’s passion for pranks; he keeps us entertained for sure. His best prank so far, though also the meanest one he’s ever pulled, was putting a snake in Mark’s bed. Mark is a twenty-year-old Private that had never seen a snake up close in his life. I was in the kitchen fixing myself a sandwich when I heard the yell followed by automatic weapons fire. Mark pumped thirty rounds into that snake and his bed. Matt might have gotten away with it if he hadn’t been laughing his ass off about ten feet away from Mark’s little cubicle. Mark was so freaked and pissed off that he actually pointed his M-16 at Matt and told him he was next if he ever did that again.

As I said before, when Josh and I are in the rec-room watching T.V. or playing a video game he likes to lie on top of me. We have a couple of couches in the room, and he and I can usually be found on one of them, with me on my back and him lying half on top of me. I’ll be the first to tell you I love the hell out of that, but I do wonder just what he’s thinking about when he does that. Everyone else has gotten so used to seeing us that way that no one thinks twice about it anymore. They hassled us a little at first, calling us boyfriends, but have pretty much just let it pass; not paying us the least bit of attention. There are also times he’ll be in my cubicle with me, cuddled up with me on my bed and talking. We’ll occasionally fall asleep together that way, and of course Matt’s snapped a few photos of us, but nobody seems to think much of it. It was one of those times Josh was cuddled up in bed with me that things headed in a whole new direction.

To be continued...