An Officer an a Gentleman

Resigned to the fact that he has a few years to kill, sitting on an airplane, peering out a misty window into the darkness into downtown San Antonio, about to start a new chapter in his personal Odyssey, Marcus thinks back. What had he left behind? A few saplings of relationships. A train wreck of one with Darlene. She had been pressing him for a proposal of marriage for some time now. Certainly she was a good fuck but he was not looking for spouse material. She became an excuse to get out while the getting was good. Besides where he was at was a certain dead end and whoever it was he would be with would also be there. Every day. He could hear it in his ears. Gripe. Moan. Nag. Hell no! Boot Camp was to begin at the baggage claim counter.

Many weeks in the company of nothing but other drifting souls for the next few weeks in a process of being deprogrammed of the civilian world and indoctrinated into the military world. Marcus found the training a joke that few except him seemed to be catching on. Wash and fold clothes into 4 inch squares, beds made with hospital corners at the foot. Hell boot camp was a lot like his youth. His own parents required at least this much. Instructors invaded his personal space attempting to thrown him off his game. This would be the most valuable lesson learned here. Saved and filed for later. All things come out in the wash and before the end of week one he had found a small group from around the country that were his intellectual and social equals. Equilibrium…

Inside every cloud there is the proverbial silver lining and Marcus was adept at finding it. In a testosterone cesspool Marcus could find the source of estrogen for miles around. Midway through basic training males and females were allowed to intermingle after duty hours. There were a few choice spots and depending on your preference of music. Arnold Hall was the spot. Both basic trainees and permanent duty personal frequented the joint. The only difference between the two, as far as the guys were concerned, was the length of the haircut and that active duty personnel were allowed to drink alcohol. Upon entrance to the club Marcus could smell unattended to pussy. The only obstacle was the military's policy for PDA, public displays of affection. It was frowned upon severely.

Marcus had picked her out and plucked her from amongst the surrounding fruit and corralled her to the dance floor where prying eyes had a difficult time spying. Names were unimportant as time and opportunity was fleeting. A slow record from the DJ. Thank you very much. She melted into Marcus' arms and moaned every so softly as he had his hands up to the wrist inside her olive drab utility uniform pants. She pressed her breasts against his chest. His free hand filled with her most than ample ass. He had to keep turning and spinning on the dance floor so that not any one person could get a glimpse of his covert activities. Her misted over cunt felt like satin to his touch. He knew that there would not be time to bring this to a glorious finish, but a little sexual activity is better than none at all. The slow dance ended and his hand withdrawn and her pants re-zipped in the shuffle of a new record starting to play ended their little tryst. Marcus looked up to the balcony area and if it wasn't his entire unit standing there looking back many with mouths agape. Their Dorm Chief had gone where none other had dared. That was the last evening he ever saw her as all the other times he went back to Arnold Hall she was not to be found.

Another airplane ride and this one might be the death of poor Marcus, so he thought. At the end of basic training Marcus had caught a head cold. It carried over through graduation and by the time he realized how serious it was he was at cruising altitude with his head pounding with a major ear infection. Monterrey, CA was the final destination and he could hardly see straight in the terminal. Nevertheless, there was this final honey Rebecca, Ft. Lauderdale, FL, on the plane with the same final stop; DLI, Defense Language Institute. They were even to be in the same class. First day out of boot camp, head pounding and all Marcus had her attention and had attempted to make some initial inroads to her sex. Time would be a well received luxury as the course they were enrolled in was to be 52 weeks in length. There was another Rebecca, Provo, UT, also in their class who was trying is attention.

By the time they arrived at the post, Marcus' head was about to burst at every little sound. The sergeant who was giving the new arrivals the welcome had been talking a little more than Marcus could tolerate. A verbal outburst had him in trouble with superiors and he'd only been there for an hour. A few minutes explaining and he was in an ambulance to the hospital. Antibiotics and a few days bed rest and Marcus was as good as new. When he arrived in the dayroom he found what was to be the usual suspects milling about. Over near the foosball table he caught up to the two Becky's and the chase was on. Three days out of commission had put him behind the crowd of men who were hanging about the newbie girls like vultures.

Marcus didn't take long to find out that the real action took place at the NCO club. The drinking age there was 18 and off post the age legal age was as it was in CA, 21. Marcus was 21 and started to devise his two prong strategy. The NCO club was hopping for a weeknight. Membership papers all filled out, he entered and found the group he arrived with already putting away the last of a pitcher of beer and sat himself down between the two Becky's. Provo Becky was most aggressive and stole most of his attention. Long black hair and very fair white skin in sharp contrast. He thought that she had to be the white version of Darlene back home. He ordered what would become the usual, a Tanquery gin gimlet. She was average height but it was those mountainous orbs of tit flesh that he ended up talking to the remainder of the evening. She didn't dance but was right there every time Marcus returned from the dance floor. Marcus was discovering that he was indeed a breast man. The women slept on the top two floors of the dorm in the opposing wing above the commander's office. That proposed a slight problem but he was daring enough to venture up is she was. She was not, it would be another two weeks before she would invite him to her bed.

Meanwhile on the dance floor he met Debra. She was a freak from the word go. On the return trip from the club after he put Becky to bed, Debra was to meet him at the post office. The post office was an unsecured open area between the wing of the male and female dorms. Debra had changed into a baggy flannel shirt and some sweat pants, Marcus assumed correctly for easy access. Debra grabbed Marcus and pulled him into a darkened corner or the room and kissed him deeply. His hands began to venture to the buttons of that flannel shirt and her milky tits stood there erect as he moved his hands from her smooth stomach to her warm bosom. Her hand went immediately to his quickly rising mass.

She gasped as the size of the cock filling and lowered herself to her knees for a closer inspection. Her hand wrapped around Marcus's 8 inches and she moved her head in closer to inhale his masculine scent at his balls. Marcus ran his fingers through her curly blond locks and guided her mouth to the tip of his dick and pressed her lips to the pre-come that was leaking out liberally. She rubbed his cock over her face avoiding Marcus' attempt at entry. Finally, after several weeks of forced abstinence, paydirt. Debra opened her lips and licked at the glistening angry looking helmet of his cock and dove in taking half of his dick into her mouth. Marcus let her control the action for several bobs of her head and then tightened his grip on her head and pressed another few inches to the back of her throat. Gagging and spit drooling down her chin, Marcus stopped and stood Debra up. He turned her around and filled his hands with her marvelous melons and began to grind his cock at the back of her satin sweatpants. She got the message that he wanted into her pussy. She lowered her pants and stepped out of one leg and spread her legs to give him access to her dripping cunt. Marcus bent her at the waist and she put her hands against to wall to give herself some leverage to fuck back at Marcus. He rubbed his hand between her legs and spread her moisture over her clit and swirled some over her rosebud. She inhaled sharply at being touched at her nether opening. Bending her over further still Marcus replaced the head of his cock as the instrument spreading her juices and stopped at the entrance of her cunt. Now wet with her seepage he thrust his cock into her pussy and deep as he round white ass would allow.

There in the moonlight the striking contrast of his pitch black skin and her glistening white ass spurred him to ravage her pussy as a man starved. Debra found her rhythm and began to raise and lower her hips to meet his thrusts. Marcus reached around to find her clit begging for attention and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, causing Debra to buck against him even harder. Her juices now covered his entire cock as Marcus was bottoming out in her, touching her womb on every stroke. Her orgasm was fast approaching and as it hit Marcus spread her ass cheeks and pressed his thumb inside sending her over the edge taking Marcus with her. The two sweaty lover bask in the afterglow until Debra turned around and lowered herself in front of him on her knees again taking his semi-erect cock back into her mouth feasting from them combined juices. The two kiss after they arranged their respective clothing and Debra scurried back to her dorm room. Marcus considering all that had gone on that day and surmised that indeed Provo Becky could wait until she was ready.