A Marine Called Jason
(Revised)
by: Peter

(© 2007-2015 by the Author)
 

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

Chapter 65
Back In Vietnam 

The night I arrived back in country, there was a welcoming committee. The VC conducted a raid on the base camp before I even got to my hooch.  It was my first real combat experience and all through it I was thinking, “Shit, this ain’t Intel.” It scared the shit out of me, but God help me, I liked it.  But my hooch got blown up.  Lucky in a way because I wasn’t in it and my shit was still on the truck.  The men who lived in the hooch lost all of their shit. Luckily, it was chow time and nobody was killed in the explosion but two guys were killed in the firefight that ensued, and four were wounded, one with a million dollar wound, meaning he would be heading back to the States.

There were eight of us arriving, and when things quieted down I heard somebody say, “Fuckin’ turtles showed up just in time.”  Turtles was what they called the replacements; they called them that because it took them so long to get there. Yeah, it took me a while to get there, but this fucker didn’t know squat about where I’d been. They also called us FNGs.  FNG was a fuckin’ new guy.  I sure as hell wasn’t that either. It cut right through me, and the second time I heard it, it was like twisting the knife. I was still high on adrenalin from the battle and I walked up to him and looked him straight in the eye.

“You just learn those terms? Do you even know what they mean?” I asked sarcastically.

“Apparently you do,” he said cockily.

“Yeah, I do.  Just so we get this straight, I ain’t no goddamned turtle, and I sure as hell ain’t no FNG.  Okay?”

He glanced at my Airborne wings and I saw him glance at my shoulder and he saw my sniper patch.

“Okay by me,” he said.

I walked away before I hit him.  Nobody called me a turtle or a FNG after that. The new arrivals and the guys who had lost their hooch had to double up in the other hooches. It was a tight fit but it beat sleeping outside with the little creatures and the mosquitoes. A couple of guys weren’t overly hospitable about me crowding in, even though I was sleeping on the floor.  One of them bitched when he almost tripped over me in the night, on his way to the latrine. That pissed me off.  I got up, gathered up my stuff and vacated the premises. The guy was coming back as I was leaving.

“Where’re you going?” he asked.

“Don’t fuckin’ worry about it,” I growled.

I found an empty deuce-and-a-half and crawled up in the cab. I was awakened in the early dawn by somebody opening the door.

“Hey, this ain’t the fuckin’ Hilton. I need my truck,” he said.

I dragged myself to a sitting position on the passenger side as he climbed in. He started the truck up. I was groggy and didn’t move fast enough to get out.

“Are you getting out, or going along for the ride?” he asked.

I reached for the door.

“Hey, aren’t you one of the new guys?” he asked.

“Don’t call me that,” I warned, putting up a threatening hand.

“I didn’t say FNG.  I said are you one of the new guys who got in last night?”

“Yeah.”

“That hooch over there,” he said, pointing. “We had two KIAs. Tell ‘em you’re taking the rack next to Higgins,” he said, putting out his hand. “Welcome to the country.”

I shook his impressively large, strong hand and thanked him then got out of his truck with my shit and headed for my new quarters. I decided I wasn’t going to be run out this time.

“Where’s Higgins’ rack?” I asked a youngish looking blonde kid. He was cute.  A sneaky thought popped into my head that I would rather crawl into the kid’s bunk with him.

“Over there,” he said, nodding to a bunk at the end.

I walked back and tossed my stuff on the bunk. The blonde just looked at me. I walked back over to him and put my hand out.

“Not that it makes a fuck, but I’m Brad Courter.”

“Randy Jones,” he said, taking my hand.

It wasn’t a very firm handshake; I didn’t know if it was on purpose or not.  Sometimes guys did that just to show they don’t give a fuck.  It wasn’t just not firm, it was a couple of seconds too long for a normal handshake. I would keep that in mind, and keep my eye on Randy Jones.

The next many days were boring as shit. I didn’t get assigned to any shit details because they knew I was a sniper and nobody knew whether I was coming or going to a planning meeting to plan a mission and they left me alone. I found something to do with my time. I went to supply and asked about a ghillie suit. The supply clerk looked at me as though my nose was growing out the side of my head. He didn’t have to tell me they didn’t have one, or possibly he didn’t even know what I was talking about.

“Okay I need some netting, and maybe an old fatigue shirt or something that I can tear up,” I said.

“All of the equipment is on the books,” he said.

I hated supply.  “Well, take it off the books, like you do when shit gets blown up,” I said, sounding impatient because I was.  “You obviously don’t have a ghillie suit, I need stuff to make one.”

He took me into the inner sanctum of his domain and showed me the netting material he had. 

“This’ll do the trick,” I said, picking up a bundle of netting. Then I picked up a faded green fatigue shirt.  “This’ll be perfect,” I said. Then I took a ball of twine.

“You’ll have to sign for all of this,” he said.

You wonder why I hated supply? “Sure, but it won’t be coming back,” I said.

“Most of it don’t come back, I just need a record that it left,” he said.

Back at the hooch, I dug out my sewing kit and set about crafting a ghillie suit. I tore one of my brown T-shirts and the fatigue shirt into strips and shreds and wove and sewed them into the netting.  One of the smart asses asked me, “What’re you doing, sewing your wedding dress?”  I replied, “Yeah, do you have your tux ordered, we’re getting married in a month, you know.”

Later I found a spot where I could gather various grasses and vines to weave into the netting, and I added sticks and twigs here and there. It was interesting how the other guys watched my progress.  It took a lot of hours to create the garment but when it was finished I was satisfied that it would conceal my whereabouts in about any terrain that I had observed.  I also made a ghille suit for my rifle.  I took the stuff inside to my bunk to work on that.  The same smart ass asked me what I was making, and was my spotter a midget or what?  I told him, no, I was making my wedding veil.

One of the planning sessions was coming down to the wire, as I learned when I found myself at one of them with a kid named Danny Porter. And I do mean kid.  I kept eyeing him out of the corner of my eye, not believing that they actually expected me to take him along as my spotter.  After the meeting, as we were leaving, I told Porter I had to go to the latrine and doubled back to the HQ.

“I’m not taking that kid with me, sir,” I told the captain flatly.

“That’s not your decision to make,” the captain said. “Did you bring your own partner with you, somebody you’ve worked with?”

“No, but I prefer to operate on my own,” I said, purposely leaving off the sir.

“And I prefer you not,” he said.

“Christ, he looks like he still belongs in high school….like about a sophomore,” I said. “I’ll bet he’s never even shaved, at least not with a blade.”

“Don’t underestimate Porter; he’s an expert rifleman,” the captain said.

“That’s fine, but I’m the sniper,” I said.

“You’re forgetting a couple of things, Corporal. Number one, how to address an officer, and secondly, that you do not pick your missions.”

“But don’t I have a say in picking my team?” I asked.

“He’s the best we’ve got.  In fact, he’s the only one we’ve got right now,” he said.

“I’ll lose him, sir,” I said as a warning.

“I doubt that, he’s had the same training you have,” he said. “Look Courter, you’ve had great input at these meetings, but the final decision is mine.  Now I recognize that snipers tend to be individuals, that’s the reason you were trained as a sniper, so I tend to cut you guys a lot of slack, as long as I don’t get any crap back.  So you go get yourself acquainted with the ‘sophomore’ and meet me back here, with him, at 1400 hours.”

“Yes, sir,” I said sharply.

I got acquainted with PFC Porter, and he was likeable enough, but I didn’t like having to work with him; and I still didn’t remember Jason ever mentioning a spotter.  We had the meeting, plus a couple more several days later, till we got the word that it was a go.

Porter was cute and I called him that….Cutie Pie.…as we were heading out. It pissed him off.

“Don’t call me that,” he said, with his most stern look.

I laughed. “Mean on your face just don’t cut it,” I told him.

“It don’t have to. My mean’s right here,” he said, lifting his rifle.

“Yeah, the Captain said you’re a pretty fair shot,” I said, purposely down playing his capabilities.

“I’m an expert shot,” he said. “And just so you know, I’ve heard all about fraggin’.”

I stopped.  “Is that a threat?”

“Nope.”

I grabbed him by the front of his shirt, up around his neck. “Do not threaten me, fucker,” I growled in his face. “It could be dangerous to your health, especially out where we’re going.”

“It wasn’t a threat, Corporal. Just a point of fact, cause I’m thinking you’ve probably got the same idea in the back of your head about me,” he shot back, unflinching.

I liked his balls, the way he stood up to me. I let go of him and walked on ahead of him. We traveled for a long way like that--several hours--with him tagging along behind me, and I was thinking this mission was fucked up from the start, and it was going downhill from there.  As we got closer I knew I had to get it back on track. I was the leader of this two-man team, like it or not; the success or failure of the mission depended on me and I was creating a non-workable work environment. I slowed my pace for him to catch up with me but he lagged behind.

“Hey, Sophomore,” I said, waving him forward.

He came up beside me. “What’s that all about….sophomore?” he asked.

“Because you look like you oughta be back in high school, studying sophomore English or something, not tromping through this fuckin’ jungle looking for somebody to kill.”

“You’re the sniper, I’m just along to see that you get back alive,” he said.

I had to laugh at his smart-assed attitude and I hated to admit that I was beginning to like him.  He reminded me of me.

“We got off to a bad start. It’s my fault. Sorry,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said.

“I’m not,” I said.  “I like your balls, the way you stood up to me back there,” I told him. 

“You’re not acquainted with my balls yet, so don’t start liking them,” he said.

I smiled but didn’t respond to his remark.

“We’ll cool our heels here.  That clearing up ahead….that’s where the two paths connect that they use to re-supply and pass on information.”  I took a picture out of my shirt pocket and handed it to him. “That’s the target.” I knew he'd seen the picture before but I wanted to refresh his memory.  He studied the picture for a brief moment and handed it back to me. “Did you look at it?” I asked.

“Yes. He’s in his mid-twenties, weighs about 145 pounds, a sergeant, doesn’t spend much time in the bush.  He’s married, he’s got a small birthmark at the right corner of his mouth and a mole at the lower part of his neck, left side.”

I looked at him. “How do you know he doesn’t spend much time in the bush?” I asked.

“He eats good, he’s not as skinny as most of them, he gets his hair cut regular, and his cap and uniform shirt are crisp, freshly laundered.”

“It’s a picture,” I said.  “He might not even look like that.”

“But they said it’s a recent picture,” he said. "And he'll look like that unless he's been busted."

I nodded, putting the picture back in my pocket, and I was little more impressed with Sophomore. Maybe the captain was right; I shouldn’t underestimate the kid.  We set up our position.  We tromped down enough of the grass and underbrush to make a spot “livable” for the few hours we might have to wait, without destroying the foliage that covered us, then we got comfortable for the wait. The boy couldn’t get comfortable. He kept moving and adjusting his position and adjusting his scope.

“You about got it right?” I asked.

“It will be when the time comes,” he said.

We lay quiet for a long time, not because it was necessary--the target wasn’t due to show for more than an hour--we were quiet because there was nothing to say.  Finally, I spoke.

“Hey, Sophomore, you’re okay,” I said.  “I just don’t wanta see anything happen to you.”

“Don’t worry about it.  I came out here to die,” he said.

I looked at him for a long moment and his gaze back was steady.  “We’re not going there right now,” I said.  We had to stay focused on the mission.

We kept vigil well till dusk with no concrete results; only villagers now and then coming and going along the paths. We stayed till the small cooking fires began to flicker in the distant village.

“Are you seeing anything?” I asked quietly.  

“No. Wait!  Activity at two o’clock.”

I shifted my rifle to see a group of soldiers moving into my line of sight.  No more than a squad, though. 

“He’s not with them,” Sophomore said.

“Shit!”

We waited till the soldiers had harassed some of the villagers and moved on.

“We’re moving back,” I said.

When we were back far enough we stood and walked.

“I hate it when they don’t keep a date,” I said, still speaking softly.

“Maybe he didn’t get the memo that you were meeting him,” Sophomore drawled.

When we’d gone far enough to feel safe, we stopped to eat. I brought up what he’d said earlier.

“What you said back there….that you came over here to die. That’s a defeatist attitude.”

“No, it’s not. I don’t intend to be defeated at anything I do.  I’ll sight your target, and if we get in a bind, I’ll fight our way out and get you back alive. But I don’t expect to go home alive. Meanwhile, I’ll do my duty.”

“You sound like you don’t want to go home alive. You got a death wish or something?”

“You could say that.”

“What the fuck, you’re what, fifteen years old?” I scoffed. “You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.  And you should be back there living it instead of lying here in the fuckin’ jungle looking after me.”

“First, I’m eighteen, although I might not look it. Second, I tried living my life back there, and it wasn’t all that great. I would rather be here.”

“What the hell could possibly be wrong with your life back there, that you would rather be here in this shit-hole?”

“You don’t wanta know and you wouldn’t understand if you did,” he said.

“What, are you running away from something?” I asked.

“Couldn’t if I wanted to.  It’s inside me.  It goes wherever I go,” he said.

“What, you got some kind of disease? You couldn’t have a disease, they wouldn’t let you in the Marines.”

“I’m gay,” he said, without flinching.

There was a strange silence that settled over us, even though the jungle noises continued all around us. I stared at him. It was dark but I could see his eyes and I stared at him till he looked at me.

“That’s it?” I asked.

“It’s enough where I come from,” he said.

“Being gay is no reason to wanta die,” I said.

“There’s not much tolerance in a town of five thousand people where everybody’s married to somebody’s relative.  People look at you and whisper and laugh behind your back.  Some don’t even bother to do that, they laugh right in your face.  Girls try to change you--like they’ve got the magic solution between their legs--fuck me and you’ll be straight. My Dad wonders why I chose such an evil life style, he wouldn’t believe I didn’t have a choice.  My mother and aunts are gonna pray me out of it.  I mean, it’s total fuckin’ backwoods ignorance."

“How did your family find out?” I asked.

“I got caught.”

“No shit!  By whom?”

“My Dad.  The feed mill sent out a pickup load of feed supplements and I went out to show the driver where to back the truck up to the barn.  This real hunky driver got out and I knew I was gonna have him. He’d backed up so the rear of the truck was just inside the barn, and when we were done unloading, I made a pass at him.”

“That was pretty bold of you, if you didn’t know the guy,” I said.

He laughed.  “There’s nothing like grabbing a guy’s ass to get to know him real fast.  I had his jeans down in no time and he sat on the tailgate, leaned back and I was leaned over, sucking his cock, when we heard a door open, close, didn’t know which door it was at the time. There was nobody there so I finished him off.  Found out later, my Dad had come into the barn and saw us, and slipped back out.  He told me that night after I’d gone to bed, that he saw me.  He was real disappointed.  He told my Mom and she told her sister and it went from there, so I was branded a sick homo.”

“That’s too bad, Sophomore,” I said. 

“The worst was my best friend--the guy I thought was my best friend--he came on to me, said we were buddies for life, so what could it hurt, if we both wanted it. I spent the weekend giving him blowjobs, and you know what he said? Two days later we got together again and he wanted to fuck me.  When I told him no, he said we couldn’t be friends anymore; said he couldn’t be friends with a fag because he had a reputation as a stud he had to live up to.  I signed up for the Marines the next day. My Dad was proud of me for that…said the Marines would make a man out of me.  Little did he know that the Marines was providing me with what I yearned for, the company of real men. So I’m gonna make my Dad proud.  I’m gonna go home in a body bag and they can have a military funeral with a flag draped over my casket, and a twenty-one-gun salute, and play taps and make my mother cry when they present her with the flag. They’ll be proud of me then.”

I didn’t know what to say. It was the saddest thing I’d ever heard. The kid didn’t even shave yet, and he was planning an honorable death for himself so he could make his dumb-ass parents proud.

“Geezusss, Sophomore, that’s the worst thing I ever heard,” I said.

“Depends on how you wanta look at it.  If life sucks, the next best thing is death with honor,” he said. Then he asked me the damndest thing.  “When I get it, would take me back?”

“What?”

“Would you escort my body back home?”

“No,” I said with a hard frown. “Just don’t plan on getting it, okay?  We got a job to do here, so just take your death wish and put it on hold for a while.… like forty or fifty years.”  I realized immediately that I’d said the wrong thing.  He was hurt.  The kid had asked me to do the most honorable thing a guy can do for another Marine, and I’d told him no.  “Okay, I’ll do it; I’ll take you back,” I said. “But I think you gotta put it in writing that you want me to do it.”

“I will, when we get back,” he said. “So, if you wanta do anything while we’re out here by ourselves, I’m up for it,” he said.

I looked down at him again with a blank stare. “No, I’m not gonna use you,” I said with a scowl.

“You wouldn’t be using me; I offered,” he said.

“You offered to get yourself killed, too,” I said.

“It wouldn’t be using me if I said I want it, would it?”

“You’ve got your priorities all fucked up, Sophomore.”

“Yeah, but they’re my priorities, I can fuck ‘em up if I want to,” he said as he reached out for my crotch.

I clasped my hand over his hand clasped over my crotch to stop him.  Suddenly he reminded me of Levi Brant, back in sniper school.

“Come on, let me do it,” he said.  “My buddy said I’m pretty good at it.”

“Sophomore, you can’t be doing this shit, coming on to guys like this.  What if I was a homophobe and reported you?  You could end up in the stockade.”

He shrugged.  “Would that be so bad?  Being locked up with all those guys without any women?”  Then he asked, “Are you going to report me?” he asked, as he squeezed my crotch.

“No.”  And I was letting him squeeze my crotch beneath my hand.

“Are you going to let me suck your cock?”

“Fuck, Sophomore, you’re giving me a hardon,” I said.

“Better let me take care of it, then.”

“Fuck, Sophomore…….”  I moved my hand to give him free rein.

“Not out here, some other time and place, but I wouldn’t mind trying you up my ass,” he said.      

“Your buddy back home, is he the only other guy you ever went down on?” I asked.

“I’ve only done it once besides that,” he said.     

Sophomore was undoing my pants.  I watched his face.  He was so fuckin’ young looking; almost pink-cheeked.  I wondered if there would ever be hair growing on his face.

“Sophomore, have you even got hair around your dick yet?” I asked.

“Yeah, I got hair around my dick,” he said, laughing. “You wanta see it?”

“No.”  By then he was pulling my cock out of my pants.

“Damn!” he swore as he pulled it all the way out and gaped at its length. It was a simple expression of appreciation, not fear, because he got right on it.

“Ohh, Godd!” I gasped. His tongue was so soft and smooth, his mouth so warm and soft.  And he was so fuckin’ cute. “Oh, Godd.” I couldn’t remember a mouth feeling so good, or such a sexy mouth on such a cute face.

He moved off, with a big smile.  “You praying to God or something?” he asked, laughing.

I reached down and clamped my hand on his head and pushed his face at my cock again. He took it and started sucking. He was so good, so gentle, like he was making love to my cock, like I wasn’t even attached to it. He was so fuckin’ cute and young looking, I felt almost ashamed for letting a little boy suck my cock. I felt something more in those moments.  I felt an attachment to him.

“Ohh….Awwhh, mann….Oohh….Ohhh, fuck, Sophomore, your buddy was right. You are good.”

I loved watching him lick my cockhead like a puppy lapping milk.  He seemed to like my precum.  It was almost torture till he took it in his mouth again. I glanced at my watch.  We weren’t exactly in friendly territory.

“We shouldn’t be too long, Sophomore,” I said.

“I’m doing all I can. You’re the one with the load,” he said.

He was right, I had to hurry it up. I concentrated on what he was doing, and on his cute face and those full, kissable lips sliding back and forth on my cock, and I conjured up visions of us in bed together where I could fuck his tight little ass.  But I think it was his innocent look that got to me. Fuck, he was so young and cute and innocent looking and he was sucking my cock like a pro. I decided a change in positions might help.  I rolled over on top of him and started fucking his mouth. He moaned and whimpered with pleasure and opened his throat for me, pulling me down to his mouth with his hands clasped around my butt.  Even when he choked, he kept pulling me down and I kept fucking his throat, and choking him. I thought of his parents.  Geezuss, what would they think if they knew their little boy was lying on the jungle floor getting his head nailed to the ground by a big cock in his throat.

“I’m getting close,” I said suddenly.

He nodded and groaned.

A minute later….. “I’m cummin’!” And I rolled off to my side.

He moved off my cock and opened his mouth wide with his tongue out and pumped my cock.  I hit the target with a shot that we could hear splattering against the back of his mouth.

“Uuhnn!” he groaned. “Ohh….Oh, shit!….Oh, shit!….Oh, fuck!” he swore between shots, his groans mixing with mine.

I got a near perfect score. I filled the target and the stuff started running out the corner of his mouth.  As the trajectory lowered, I shot some on his neck and his shirt then it was spurting in the grass.  He wallowed his tongue around in the pool of cum then took my cock back in his mouth and started swallowing. He swallowed several times, almost like it was a ritual, and at the end, as my cock was going down, he forced it down his throat again, burying his face in my open fly.  He held me there for a long moment then slowly moved back, milking my cock with his pursed lips. When it fell free of his mouth, he lifted it up and stuffed it back in my pants.

“Thanks,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then he wiped the cum off his neck.

“Fuck, don’t thank me, Sophomore. That was incredible.”

“Being incredible was easy with a cock like that,” he said.

“I got some on your shirt,” I said as I reached down and scooped it off with my finger.  He took my hand and licked my finger off.

“Don’t wanta waste it,” he said.  “Man, I didn’t know anybody could shoot like that.”

“Well, you had a lot to do with working it up,” I told him.

“You and that cock could give a guy a reason to live,” he said as he peered through his scope.

“You gotta have more than a big stiff cock for a reason to live,” I said.

“Company up ahead,” he said quietly.      

We flattened ourselves on the jungle floor and I looked through my scope to see someone move into the sights. But it was a mama-san and a young child. But a few minutes later a squad of soldiers moved through, led by a low ranking officer.

“Maybe I had aborted too soon,” I whispered.

“No. Our target’s not going to show,” Sophomore said when the soldiers were well out of ear shot.

“And you base that conclusion on what?” I asked.

“That was a low ranking officer in charge,” he said.

“They could’ve been scouting the area,” I said. I agreed with Sophomore but I wanted to see where he was coming from.

“Those weren’t scouts.  They weren’t paying any attention to anything; they were joking and having fun.”

I started to pack stuff up to leave.

“Captain’s not gonna be happy about this,” Sophomore said as we headed out.

“He’s the one who said not to hang around if the target was a no show,” I said. A mile or so further, I decided to come out with what was laying heavy on my mind. The kid had gotten to me, and not just in a sexual way. We had connected, and I felt a sort of obligation to him.

“Listen, Sophomore, I’m gonna tell you something, and if you ever breathe a word to anybody.… well, I know all about fraggin’ too.”  I let that soak in for a minute then went on. “I’m into guys, too.”

He looked at me, but took it in stride, literally; we didn’t break stride.

“So are a lot of guys around you, you just don’t know it,” I went on.  “I had sex with at least a dozen other guys, my last tour. It’s all over the place. Have you ever been to Saigon?”

“Yes, once, on a weekend,” he said.

“You know a place called Toby’s?”

“No, never heard of it.”

“Next time you’re in Saigon look it up.  Tell Toby I sent you,” I said.

“Is it a gay bar? I’m not going into a gay bar.”

“No, but it’s gay friendly. Very discreet. You can meet guys there.  Straight guys, too, looking for action.”

“I wouldn’t have any idea how to meet guys in a bar,” he said.

I blinked and laughed. “You just came on to me back there in the fuckin’ jungle,” I said. 

“That was about my death wish,” he said.

“And what about that delivery guy you got caught with?”

“That was him and me, not with other people watching,” he said.

“Just find the place,” I said. “Trust me, you’ll go over big there. And you won’t have to worry about meeting guys…. guys will want to meet you.  Tell Toby I sent you, he’ll probably give you a beer.  Or throw your ass out,” I added, laughing. 

“I think you like me now,” Sophomore said with a cocky grin.

“I like you, Sophomore.”

He slowed his pace and I turned back to see what was wrong.

“We can make up the story about how long we waited,” he said.

“Yeah?” I said, wondering what he was getting at.

“You wanta fuck me?” he asked.

“Geezuss, Sophomore.”  But I was looking around, doing a quick assessment of our surroundings.  “It could be risky," I said.

He laughed.  “Every breath you take out here is risky, that don’t mean you stop breathing.” He walked off to the side, into some tall grass and disappeared. I went after him.  He was standing in a little clearing in the grass where there was green moss growing, unbuckling his belt.  His rifle was on the ground.

“What’s it going to look like if we get it with my cock shoved in your ass?” I said as I laid my rifle down

“Two GIs enjoying their last minutes on earth, that’s what it’ll look like,” he said.

We didn’t strip naked, but we shed our pants and shorts, leaving our boots on.  Sophomore lay down on the bed of thick moss on his stomach with his legs spread out and his butt humped up.

“Godd, Sophomore,” I said huskily.

“You like my butt?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Fuck, Sophomore, I’m drooling. When you said you’d only done it once, with your buddy…. that was just sucking his cock, right? You said he didn’t fuck you.”

“Yeah, I’m a virgin,” he said.

“It’s gonna hurt some,” I said as I knelt between his legs.

“You think?” he quipped, eyeing my cock. When he felt it touch his butt he arched his back and jutted his ass up for me.  I spat in his ass crack and smeared it around with the head of my cock.

It wasn’t easy, getting my cock through his tiny, virgin hole, and there was another fleeting moment of guilt that I was fucking a boy, but this boy was a Marine, and he wanted it. He worked with me.  Finally, he told me to just do it.

“Just shove it in, hard, my ass will give way,” he said.

I reached over and grabbed his shorts.  “Stuff this in your mouth, you can’t make any noise,” I said.

He stuffed his shorts in his mouth and braced himself.  I shoved, hard. I bore down relentlessly against his tight hole till it finally gave way and my cock burst through and sank about half way into the tight, hot cavern of his ass 

“OOUUMMPPHHHH!” he groaned in his shorts.  It was a good thing he had his shorts in his mouth, they would’ve heard him all the way to Saigon.

I managed to check my entry at the half way mark. The way he was trembling under me I almost pulled out. He jerked the shorts out of his mouth and I thought he would ask me to stop.  He just turned his head and looked over his shoulder at me with those big sad-puppy eyes, and he was all teared up.

“What?” I asked. I wanted him to tell me to stop.

“Fuck me,” he said.

“Fuck, Sophomore, this has got to be killing you.”

“Fuck me,” he said again.

“I’m only half way in, Sophomore.”

Suddenly he rose up on his elbows and when he rose up on his knees he shoved his ass back onto my cock, his ass swallowing it to the hairy hilt, his butt grinding against my loins. He bit down on his forearm and I bit down on the heel of my hand. It was an intense moment as we waited for him to get used to being impaled on my cock.

“You okay, Sophomore?” I asked after a moment.

“Yeah.”

“All right.”  I pulled back till his tight little asshole was gripping the rim of my cockhead then I slowly eased back in him.

“OOOhhhhhh,” he moaned softly.  “Ohh, Goddd!”

“Better chew on your shorts again, I’m gonna fuck you now,” I told him.

He stuffed his shorts back in his mouth and I fucked him. I didn’t feel bad about it anymore.  He wasn’t a boy who I’d seduced; he was a Marine, same as me, and he wanted to be fucked.  But it wasn’t a time for love making, or even lingering.  I fucked him hard, till he was lying flat across the mossy ground.  I wanted us both to get out of it everything we could, but we were fucking in the middle of the jungle, for chrissakes. I pulled him back up to his knees and reached around for his cock.

“We gotta make this fast,” I said, as I began jacking him off.

He nodded and began humping my cock.  With both of us working it, we lasted only a few minutes.  I felt him going off first; felt it in the quivering of his ass, followed by his cock bolting hard as steel in my fist just before he shot off.  I came close behind him, shooting my load in his welcoming ass.  It was quick, and hard, and exhausting. I collapsed on top of him, pressing him back down on the mossy bed.

“Fuck, Sophomore, that was awesome,” I gasped.

“Yeah, it sure was. I never dreamed it would feel like that.”

We couldn’t linger.  I pushed myself up. “Sorry I had to hurt you,” I said as I slowly withdrew my cock.

“I knew it would probably hurt,” he said as he shoved up onto his hands and knees. 

I stood up and pulled him to his feet and we started getting dressed.

“Damn, I can’t believe I had all that up inside me,” he said as I was hefting my cock into my shorts.

“You took it like a man,” I said.

“I hope we can do this again, when we’ve got more time. Maybe we can go to Saigon together,” he said.

“That was stupid, what we did,” I said as we headed out again.  “Great, but stupid.  If Charlie had come up on us, we would be dead meat.”

“Yeah, but we would be happy dead meat,” he said.

Part of me wished I hadn’t done it. I wished he could go back home with that little bit of innocence left. But the kid was gay; if it hadn’t been me, it would be somebody else who got his cherry and it would no doubt happen before he got back home.  And he had asked me to do it.

"It felt really good," he said.

"I'm glad."

"I mean like I imagine a girl feels when she's getting fucked, you know, getting her clit rubbed with a guy's big cock."

"Did you feel something like that?" I asked.

"Yeah, there was a spot inside me that drove me nuts."

"That's your prostate," I said. ."Sometimes called your love nut."

"Oh.  It sure felt good. You could really give a guy a reason to live, you know that?” he said.

“Listen, Sophomore, when you get back home, you don’t have to go back to that town of five thousand ignoramuses.  Settle someplace else, far away, like California where you’ll be accepted.  Fuck, you’ll be worshipped there.”

“Maybe I’ll do that if I get out of this alive.”

I stopped him, faced him and put both hands on his shoulders.  “I want you to bury your death wish, Sophomore, right here and now. Promise me you’ll do that. There are other guys out there just like you who would welcome you with open arms.”

“Nobody ever welcomed me with open arms,” he said. 

“Listen to me. You’re a good looking kid, you’re built nice, you’ve got an awesome cock, not to mention that fine ass. You’d be a dream come true to some lucky guy; guys just like you, who lay awake dreaming and praying to meet a young stud like yourself.”

“So I’m the stuff dreams are made of, huh?” he said.

“Damn right. So don’t destroy some poor guy’s dream. Live it with him. You’ll find him.  Or he’ll find you.  But you gotta stay alive. And don’t worry about making anybody proud of you. If you gotta die to do that, well, fuck, they ain’t worth it.”

He listened, and I thought I just might have given the boy a reason to live, a reason beside just my cock.

Sophomore and I didn’t exactly become close buddies but I considered him a friend, of sorts, and he was a good spotter. I trusted him. I worried about him at first but I got over that. He could handle himself.

He caught up with me after chow one night.

“I haven’t been able to get what we did off my mind,” he said.  “You woke up an itch inside me, and I’m going nuts wanting it again. Do you think we can arrange something?”

“Did you bury that death wish like I said?” I asked.

“Yes. You made me feel alive and wanta stay alive,” he said.

We found a secluded spot in the bush, away from the compound, so I could fuck him; he wanted that real bad, and so did I.  It was hot, hard and heavy sex.  It would’ve been loud too, except we couldn’t make any noise. I fucked him a couple more times after that.  But I didn’t go on pass with him like he asked me to. I wish I had, but maybe it was a good thing I didn’t. He was killed a short time later, along with two others, when a fuckin’ bitch mamma-san tossed a grenade into a group of GIs standing on a street corner, just a few blocks from Toby’s.  I felt like I’d sent him to his death.

I didn’t see the captain about taking him back.  I didn’t really want to and I had other priorities. I was in Vietnam to find Jason. I decided I would wait and see if the captain approached me, if Sophomore had written the letter asking me to. I never heard anything.  Like the good Catholic boy my Momma raised, I did go to the chapel in a nearby village to say some prayers and I left a lighted candle.  And I thanked God and His angels and His saints that I had been able to give him what I did.  I liked to believe he died happy, without his virginity. Then I put it behind me.

My next piece of ass was the blonde kid, Randy Jones. He had a habit of watching me in the hooch, everything I did.  He would look away when I caught him but every time I looked his way he was watching me. It got irritating.  Finally, one night after chow I went over and kicked his bunk and nodded for him to come with me.  Outside, a few yards from the hooch, I stopped and grabbed him by the front of his shirt and got in his face.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, every time I look your way, you’re looking at me.”

“Then you must be looking at me too, huh,” he said.

I tightened my grip on his shirt. “I said every time I look your way, I’m not looking at you. Anywhere else I look in the hooch, guys aren’t staring at me.”

“If you gotta ask why, well, it don’t matter, does it?” he said as he gripped my hand to remove it from his shirt.

I let go and put my hands on my hips. “What don’t matter?” I demanded. I knew what he was getting at but I wanted him to say it, to lead the way.

He said, “Forget it.” He started to move past me but I stepped in his way.

“No. Let’s not forget it.”

“Then let’s take it away from here,” he said, nodding toward the hooch.

I let him past me and went with him to the motor pool. We walked past it then doubled back and he led the way between the trucks till he came to one and climbed up in the cab. 

“Get in,” he whispered gruffly.

I climbed up in the truck, feeling uneasy.

“Lay down on the seat,” he said as he crouched down on the floor on the passenger side. Obediently, I lay down with my right leg cocked up against the back of the seat.  He pulled my left leg over the edge of the seat and started unbuckling my belt. I didn’t feel completely safe, but I wanted this. I let him undo my pants and tug them down to my knees, along with my shorts. My cock swung over toward him, like it knew right where the action was. It was right.

“Holy Shit!” he said when he saw my cock, by now nearly hard. He leaned in and scooped it up in his mouth and started sucking. He was good. No, he was great. He used a lot of tongue and was very adept at taking me in his throat.  I folded my hands behind my head and closed my eyes and enjoyed.

After several minutes, he rose up.  “We can’t be out here forever.  Am I doing something wrong?”

“No. You’re doing everything just fine. I didn’t know you wanted me to hurry,” I said.

“It’s hardly hurrying,” he said, stroking my slick cock. "I really want your load."

“Get back on it, I’ll give it to you,” I said.

A few minutes later he got, I think, the biggest load of his life. He choked and coughed and snorted through his nose, trying to swallow the stuff but I could feel it cascading down my cock, all over my balls and down between my legs.

He finally rose up from my cock, gasping for air.

“Fuck! Where’d that all come from!” he exclaimed, pulling on my cock, then he leaned in and sucked off the cum he’d squeezed out.

“I don’t know, but it went all over my balls,” I said, rising up.

“Don’t worry, I’ll lick it up,” he said. With that, he bent down and started lapping up the cum that had escaped his mouth.  He licked my balls and under them and between my legs and along the inside of my thighs till he had me cleaned off.  He was a regular cum hound.  By the time he was done my cock was coming back to life.

“Listen, I would like to do this again,” he said as he was helping pull my shorts and pants up.  “Promise I won’t make such a mess of it next time.  I’ll know what to expect.”

“I should’ve warned you,” I said.

“No, it was a nice surprise. Are we on?” he asked as he came up onto the seat beside me.

“Any time,” I said. “Hell, right now, except you said we can’t be out here forever.”

“Now? What do you wanta do?” he asked.

“Raise up,” I said, and when he did, I moved over under him.  I reached around him and unbuckled his belt.

“Oh, shit, man, I don’t know…. you wanta fuck me?”

“No more than you want it,” I said as I was undoing his pants.  He helped me and together we shoved his pants and shorts down to his knees and he shoved them down to his ankles. I spat in my hand and lubed up my cock. At the same time, he did the same and lubed up his ass.  He eased back onto my cock and it spread his butt apart, honing in on his asshole.  He wasn’t a virgin.

“Shit, take it easy,” he said.

“You’re on top, you take it however you want it,” I told him.

“I’m not sure I wanta take it at all.”

“That’s not an option,” I said, clasping my hands around his hips so he couldn’t get away from me.  My cock had found its target and was throbbing anxiously. “Just let your weight down on it, then ease yourself down,” I said.

As I felt the pressure of his weight, I thrust upward and the head of my cock burst through his hole.

“Ohhh, Goddd!” he cried out.

“Not so loud.  Ease down now.”

He was fighting it; he grasped the dashboard and his legs were trembling trying to hold his weight up off of me.  I pulled down on his hips and he lost his leverage and literally fell down onto my cock.

“OOOHhhhhh!”

I reached up and clasped my hand over his mouth.  He was half whimpering.  I let him get used to me then I started clenching my butt muscles, working my cock back and forth inside his ass.

“Oh, Shit! Ohh….Ohhh, Godd….you’re so big!”

“Hey, you weren’t virgin, were you?” I asked.

“No, but I might as well have been. Geezuss, where’d you put it all?”

“I don’t know, but you’ve got it; see what you can do with it.”

He did a lot.  Once he got used to it and decided he liked it, he rode me like a pony.  It was an awkward position and he wasn’t getting enough leverage, so he asked to change positions.  He got on his hands and knees on the seat and I mounted him from behind.  We fucked so hard we had to slow down so the springs on the truck wouldn’t squeak. He fucked another big load out of me.  He shot all over the seat.  We left it.

Like all the others, he wanted a re-match. I didn’t make any promises but I knew I wouldn’t turn him down if we got another chance.

To be continued...  

Posted: 03/06/15 rp