On Monday morning, I reported for duty to find that I had to return home and pack a few things, seems that I was being assigned to a field unit for 8 days and would be working with the Marines during one of their many training exercises. I supposed that it could have been worse. However, the idea of being bone tired for 8 consecutive days and not being able to shower did not bring my spirits up too much.

All went well during the first day and I can honestly say that all I was looking forward to was the opportunity to lay flat for 10 or 12 hours. Barring that, 4 would have helped greatly. It was at that point of my day that we found out that we had one two-man tent left over and one officer and one enlisted man. Another tent could be obtained, but not till the next day of the day after. The usual assholes began squabbling about who was most junior and should have to sleep with the poor Grunt. Big fuckin' deal, we all smelled pretty bad at that stage of the game. To stop the jockeying, I volunteered to share the tent with the enlisted man, if they would just let me sleep for a while. Surprising how fast the argument ceased.

The Staff Sergeant said "I'll get Wilkins Sir and he can show you where you will be bunking." Meaning that he would get him here fast before I changed my mind. I jumped when I realized that someone was talking to me and I focused in on the voice. It was housed in 6'2", 175 pounds of green eyes and black hair and a body BUILT by God. Wilkins was one of the hottest looking guys I had seen in a long time. He moved with an easy confidence, almost like a dancer, but with more force in his stride. The accent in his voice had Texas written all over it.

Wilkins said "if you'll come with me Sir, I'll show you where the tent is." His smile could have melted rocks. It did mine, for sure! His friendliness was genuine and warm, but like that of a younger brother having to sleep with someone older and not quite knowing how to act. I began unrolling the sleeping bag that the Supply Sergeant had issued me with the assurance that "it's brand new, never touched by another human body. Just bring it back as close to the same condition as you can Sir." When I unrolled it, I found out that though the outside was complete, the manufacturer had failed to line the inside and there was nothing but loose insulation from half-way down to the feet. Wilkins assured me that it wasn't really a problem, "we can zip the two bags together and then line the bottom with a poncho Sir." I rapidly agreed and prepared for sleep. Generally in the field, I don't wear undershorts (skivvies for those who remember them), I find it a bit too warm. I was startled to see that as he dropped his pants, neither did Wilkins. Why worry, this 24 year old guy had to be straight as the proverbial arrow. We climbed into the combination bag and made ourselves as comfortable as possible. The two rocks that insisted on boring into my side went sailing away into the night, followed by curses as they landed. Now, it was time for sleep.

I was drifting off when suddenly I found myself awake but not really knowing why. Without moving, I realized that Wilkins was apparently asleep and having adjusted his position, wound up with his hard, tight Marine ass wedged firmly in my crotch. His body was in complete contact with mine from the feet up to his ass. His chest curved away, but what did touch was enough to warm me up. What the fuck, go to sleep and forget it.

Just as I began to doze off again, I came thoroughly awake. Wilkins had begun to rhythmically flex his ass cheeks against my cock and it was quickly rising to full attention. He apparently was very much awake, but thought I was sleeping and had decided to take advantage of the situation for some hot ass action. I lay still and managed to control my breathing so that it appeared that I was exhausted and sleeping for the night. It was incredible, his ass seemed to get hotter and hotter as his ass-crack slid back and forth over my cock. I wondered just how long he would keep this pretense up.

At that point, he began a slow rocking motion that caused my stiff, dripping cock to slide up and down the length of his ass-crack. It was great, like a slow jack-off session. As I was getting into having my dick slowly massaged to near explosion, my Hot Marine reached back and pulled his ass cheeks apart. My cock slipped right into the crack and came to rest against his hot, moist, and very tight little hole. I almost shot right then, but controlled myself. Wilkins continued the rocking motion. Each time he rocked back towards me, my cock slid against his ass-hole. Every time it did, I wanted to ram that fucker in to my balls. After a few minutes of this action, I realized that with each backwards rock, my cock slid a little more into his ass. When the head of my cock popped into his ass, Wilkins stopped moving. I'm not sure whether 8 thick inches was more than he was used to or if he was savoring the sensation of having his ass stopped up. I had reached the stage of the game where I could no longer remain still.

While Wilkins was catching his breath, I slowly reached over his side and wrapped my fingers around his very stiff, dripping, uncut 9" of prime meat. It startled him and when he jumped, my hard cock slid in up to the cock-hairs. Wilkins made a quick intake of breath and shuddered before he could control the noise and we lay still for a while to make sure that no one was paying us any attention. Not more than six feet on all four sides were other two-man tents, but not like ours.

I whispered in his ear "this is fuckin' driving me crazy man. It's all I can do to keep from shooting my load in your tight ass right now." Wilkins wiggled his ass and we both moaned. We had to be careful, this was too hot of a situation in more than one way. He began rocking slowly back and forth again. Letting my cock slide almost out of his ass-hole and then slowly sucking it back in. At the same time, I jacked his dick. I ran my tongue over his ear and nibbled on the lobes, it made him jerk back spasmodically, but with too much noise. I tried to control my urge to plunge my tongue into his ear.

"Turn over on your stomach," I mumbled. He carefully turned over, and I slid my legs in-between his without letting my cock slip out of his clutching ass-hole. Once in position, I began fucking one of the tightest and hottest Marine asses on the base. Wilkins bit into the side of his hand to keep from moaning out, and I bit into the side of his neck and shoulder to muffle the sounds of our fucking. Suddenly, he began to shudder and his ass-hole clutched my cock like a hand trying to rip it off. I started shooting and bit down on his shoulder to keep from yelling out loud. After a few minutes, we caught our breath and stopped shaking from our tremendous climax. I kissed his neck and ear and told him that I wanted more of this and real soon. Wilkins turned his head enough to kiss me and slid his probing tongue into my mouth and down my throat. We had to quit, the first time was luck, but more was pure suicide.

I slid off his back and over to my side of the sleeping bag. Wilkins turned on his side and once more pushed his ass into my crotch. He reached back and grabbed my hand and lay it on his side. We fell asleep that way, touching, but not obvious to anyone just walking by.

We woke just before dawn and reveille. Jumping into our cammie pants and boots, we walked to the "Water buffalo" (water tank transport) and got water to wash-up with and shave. Wilkins first name is Jeff, and he said that he wanted to get together after the exercise and see just how noisy we could really get. Seems that Jeff is a true screamer. If I had known before, I would have shit my pants. Jeff said that when I had grabbed his cock and my dick slid up his ass, he didn't know whether to "piss, go blind, or wind his watch." He wasn't wearing a watch. "It scared me shitless, but it hurt just right, I had no intention of letting that piece of meat get away." He smiled broadly as he glanced down at my crotch. We burst into laughter and turned in time to notice another Marine approaching us from the direction of the tents. Jeff and I smiled at each other and began to shave.

The new man was dirty blond, light brown eyes, about 5'7" and 140 pounds of very well put together Southern California surfer turned U.S. Marine. He said good morning as he approached and then lowered his voice. "If you wouldn't mind Sir, I really would like to share my tent with you tonight. Besides, I almost lost my mind last night listening to you two. I had to jack-off in my shorts." Wilkins and I looked at each other and burst into laughter again. Not only had we been caught with our hands in the cookie jar, the guy who caught us wanted some of the cookies.

I alternated tents for the next 6 days. When I got home I really needed the 3 days off they gave me. I spent it sleeping alone. It's strange, that Staff Sergeant never did manage to get that other tent, but then who's complaining.

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