As a horny gay US soldier who served in Iraq, I needed constant sexual release. Fortunately, there weren't a lot of women serving and the Army is full of big, muscular, he-men, so I had no trouble finding my prey. The military policy of don't ask, don't tell was still in full force, and nobody asked and even if they did, I never would have told.
Back in 2007, I was the commander of a platoon stationed in Tikrit, Iraq. We were supposed to help train the Iraqi military after Saddam Hussein's death. I would spend the day doing my job, but the night was all mine, all mine to hunt for sexual prey.
You see, I had my eye on Brandon, a young 23-year-old recruit who had been promoted to private upon his arrival on our base. He had the most amazing body. Rumor had it that he did nothing but eat, sleep and work out. I had hoped that "having sex with other men" would fit in there somewhere.
I was inspecting the troops in front of the Army barrack when I saw him for the first time. The hot Arabian sun shone on him, highlighting his green army uniform. You see, I had always had a thing for men in uniform. Maybe that was why I joined the military. There was something really hot about a man in a uniform. The thought did all sorts of things to my cock, namely, making it stand at attention.
Anyway, my troops lined up in front of me, I stopped right at the young man. I inspected him really good. Due to the unbearable heat (it was easily 100 degrees in the Iraqi summer), all the troops were dressed in light clothing, just a light white military shirt along with green shorts.
I could easily see the definition and musculature of Brandon's body. He was really muscular. Big and broad would be apt words. Standing at 6'1 and weighing at about 200 pounds, he had thick arms and a broad chest that were revealed by his flimsy shirt. Thank God the Department of Defense allowed us to wear lighter clothing in warm weather while not on patrol. The government finally did something right.
I surveyed his youthful face. He had light blue eyes and what appeared to be buzzed blond hair under his helmet. He had a sharp, angular face, one that indicated a strong, healthy body that would regularly undergo extreme exercise.
Although impressed at his physique and general appearance, I tried not to show it. I didn't want to be too eager. But still, I was 38 then, which was the peak of male sexuality, so I had an insatiable appetite for younger men. I don't know why. Maybe it was because they were so hard-bodied and muscled. Maybe because my youth was beginning to fade and theirs was still blossoming. In any case, Brandon gave me a hard-on.
Looking back on it, I normally wouldn't have acted on my sexual desire later that evening, but I was the base commander and I could have done anything I wanted. I had free rein. No one could stop me.
I leaned in and said, "I don't remember you, boy. What's your name?"
Brandon saluted me. "Private Brandon Jones, sir!" His voice was deferential, but certain and confident of himself. It was also very manly, very military. He spoke with the precision required of a soldier.
Dust began to swirl around us, brought on by heavy winds. It created a mirage-like image of Brandon and just for a moment, it made me doubt that he was real. He was easily the most handsome and fittest young man in my platoon. Was he too good to be true? Surely, he couldn't have been a figment of my imagination, could he?
When the winds stopped, Brandon was still there, to my great relief. No, he wasn't just a fantasy. He was real, as real as I was, standing there in front of me, made of flesh and blood.
I decided that I needed an excuse to get him alone, and the best one would be a violation of a base rule. He was on my turf and therefore, had to bow to my authority, and hopefully to my cock as well. I wanted my itching cock to be worshipped by this young army stud.
I inspected him further. He was not carrying his gun. Every soldier had to carry a gun, even when they were off duty. Brandon was empty-handed.
Bingo, I thought gleefully.
The sight even made me smile.
Brandon looked at me with a weird expression. He was probably wondering why I was smiling.
I quickly wiped the smile off my face. "Private Brandon!" I barked. "Why are you not carrying your gun?"
"Sorry, sir!" he exclaimed, saluting me once again. "I looked for it this morning, but I must have misplaced it."
"Misplacing a weapon is a serious offense," I stated, looking him right in the eye.
Brandon looked back at me brazenly. Most young recruits like him would have avoided eye contact with their commander, but not this one. He was bold and daring without being insubordinate. I liked it.
Pretending to be annoyed, I scowled. "Private Brandon, you are to meet me in my office at 2100 hours. Do I make myself clear?"
The sexy private saluted again. "Sir, yes, sir!"
As though to give me a preview of what was to come, the wind blew and Brandon's cock pushed its way out of his underwear and poked through his shorts. I caught a glimpse of the crown of his cock. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. Although I was stationed in a backwater, third-world, God-forsaken, furnace-hot country, I at least had something to console myself with. Just thinking of all the nasty things I would do to him and have him do to me made me salivate with lust.
"At ease, men," I said.
My troops relaxed and began marching back into the mess hall.
I eyed Brandon as he passed me. He looked up at me with a knowing expression, as though he not only knew what I was going to do to him that evening, but he was also looking forward to it.
***
Just before Brandon was scheduled to arrive, someone knocked on my door. At first I thought Brandon was early, but it turned out to be George, who was this lean, muscular, tanned brown-haired, 25 year-old corporal.
I looked up. "Yes, please come in, Corporal."
Although he wasn't Brandon, I was happy to see George, who was, hands down, the second hottest guy at the base.
He motioned behind him, and in walked Corporal Jesse, who was this redhead twink.
The two of them stood in front of my desk, looking very nervous. George kept tugging on his sleeves, as though struggling with an issue, and Jesse avoided all eye contact with me.
"Gentleman. Speak," I ordered.
George intensified the tugging of his sleeve. I had seen him do this before. It was a nervous tic he had, usually done when he was torn about something.
Finally, George squeaked out, "Sir, we have a problem. With Brandon."
Jesse the redhead twink finally looked at me. "Yes, sir. We have a problem," he repeated. "With Brandon."
I leaned forward. "Well?"
George was sweating so much that he almost drowned in it.
He tugged harder on his sleeve. "It's Brandon. He's been...he's been...."
I was starting to grow impatient. "Come on, out with it."
George still hemmed and hawed. "Umm...ahh....I really don't know how to bring this up...."
"He's been peeking at us...in the shower," Jesse interrupted.
Intrigued, I perked up. "Peeking? At what exactly?"
"At our...at our....at our...." Jesse trailed off.
"Our cocks," George finished. The word cock echoed loudly through my office, bouncing off the walls.
Since it was a forbidden word, it was magnified tenfold.
I looked at the red faces of both corporals. Of course, they were embarrassed. To be honest, I was too. Color seeped into my face as I realized what they had just said.
The word cock was a forbidden word on our base, as any expression of sexuality, especially homosexuality - physical or otherwise – is forbidden in the military, as directed and enforced by the Department of Defense.