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GI Jock, Part 2
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
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GI JOCK
Everything was going exactly as I had planned. I stopped by my dorm
room and picked up my bag of special items and then drove out to my
uncle's fishing cabin on the lake. Ben snored angelicly the entire
way. I took my bag inside the cabin and then returned and carried
Ben into the cabin. He became semi-conscious enough to walk but he
was totally out of it. He asked where we were and I told him I had
brought him to my house because he was in no condition to drive and
he mumbled 'ok' or something and passed out again about the time I
got him through the door and I had to half drag him across the room
and lay him down on the bed.
I sat Ben up on the bed, unbuttoned his shirt, pulled his shirt off,
and laid him back down. He had one of those green t-shirts on
underneath his shirt. It clung to his body tightly and highlighted
all of his muscles and the two hard points of his nipples which had
been aroused by the cold night air. Next, I unbuckled his USMC belt
buckle and loosened his belt. I unbuttoned his pants and slid Ben's
zipper down over his bulging genitalia. Ben's pants immediately
spread open to give more room to his large man-cock imprisoned in a
pair of tight green cotton underwear. I unlaced his shiny black
boots, yanked them off, and threw them in the floor. I pulled the
pants of his green marine uniform down over his legs and tossed them
in the floor too. I reached into my bag of goodies and got out four
silk ropes. I tied each of Ben's arms and legs to a bedpost. He
never woke up or even mumbled while I worked.
When I was done, Ben lay there like sex on a platter waiting for
dinner time. He slept peacefully there on the bed in his green
t-shirt and a green jock that was stretched to its limits with Ben's
large man-meat. This was one hot texan. He had chest like a
washboard with every muscle delightfully defined through the tight
cotton T-shirt. His burly arms were like those of a football
player's. His forearms were densely covered with silky brown hairs
to the point that they made his forearms almost brownish in color.
His strong muscular legs were evidence of his rigorous workouts in
basic. I placed my hand on Ben's ankle. The stud's legs were
thickly covered with dense black hairs. I ran my hand up Ben's leg
letting the soft fur of his legs travel between my outspread
fingertips. My hand came to rest on Ben's jock. I felt him up a
little, weighing his cock and balls in my hand. It was all I could
do to restrain myself from ripping that tight green jock off and
going wild but I wanted to wait until tomorrow when Ben was awake and
sober.
Ben was sleeping so hard from the alcohol that there were two dark,
damp spots on the armpits of his green t-shirt. I LOVE man smells.
I used to stay in the locker room in high school as much as possible
because I loved it when all the sweaty jocks would come in from
basketball practice and throw their sweat soaked uniforms and jock
straps into the laundry basket. They would parade all over the
locker room nude talking about how their girlfriends gave them
blowjobs or about their mistakes during the game. The locker room
would fill up with the steamy odor of the sweat dripping off the damp
curly brown hairs under their arms and around their cocks and balls.
Anyways, I pressed my face down on Ben's pit and inhaled deeply. MY
GOD he smelled good just like the basketball team's t-shirts smelled
after practice. I was so glad he wasn't wearing anti-perspirants or
deodorants that hide the wonderful musky man-scent that makes me so
horny. I pressed my nose down onto his jock near his ballsack and
inhaled more of this steaming hot stud's musky odors. The smell of
his ballsack reminded me of Mark Hamilton. Mark was my highschool
football team's star quarterback. One fall during football season in
high school, I stayed in the locker room after the football team came
back in from a five mile run and tackling workout and I pretended to
be looking for a lost book. All the sweat-soaked studs threw their
uniforms and jocks into the hamper and hit the showers. After they
hit the showers, I grabbed Mark's jock and stuffed it into my pocket
and ran home. In the security of my bedroom I examined the jock. It
was soaking wet with perspiration and had several of Mark's curly
dark brown pubic hairs stuck in the fabric. I jacked off holding his
jock over my nose so I could smell his boy-cock. I slept at night
wearing Mark's jock many times thinking of him and jacking off that
year.
I stripped off my own clothes, freeing my painfully erect cock from
the confines of my jeans and low-rise cotton briefs. I turned off
the lights and climbed into the other double bed in the cabin. My
cock begged for release but I refused to touch it for fear that once
I started I could not stop myself from releasing my load right there
in the bed. No, I had to wait until the morning to get my pleasure,
I wanted Private Ben Hardwick awake and alert when I made love to
him. I drifted off to sleep...
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