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Field

By: skillbase2002



Gayles story

It was the second day of a four day conference, the stage at which it starts to get boring.  I had met all the people I needed to meet, presented my paper, sat through enough of the others to be sure I was ahead of the game and now I was, in a word, bored.

Until John appeared.  I didn't know his name, of course. He was just a figure walking into a rather crowded bar in whom I was suddenly very, very interested.  I made my excuses to the people I was with, and on the pretext of picking up a fresh drink from a waiter standing in the right place, found myself standing alongside him. 

A glance at his badge told me his name, but also that we were on dangerous ground.  Product development managers for rival firms.  Small talk was ok, but there were plenty of people around who would take any opportunity to spread muck and if it stuck we would both be in serious trouble.  We talked about the conference, and concluded that there were much more interesting ways we could be spending our time.

"How about lunch tomorrow?"

"Sounds good to me"

"See you there"

And in something of a daze, I moved on.  Helping myself to another glass of wine on my way.  I needed it.

I didn't sleep well that night, and can't remember anything of the conference next morning.  Soon after coffee I slipped out and back to room, to try to relax, to shower and to change.

I had come prepared for a professional conference, not a romantic liaison, so my wardrobe choices were limited.  Nonetheless I did manage to put together a light, short skirt which I knew did my long tanned legs a favour and a top which flattered my well shaped breasts.  A bra was not a necessity, and my exposed midriff could look after itself.

My taxi drew up at our agreed rendezvous, a small bistro close to the river, exactly five minutes late.  Always make sure you arrive after your host.  He had found a small table on the pavement and by the level of his glass had arrived early.  A good sign.  The waiter brought mine.

We sat and chatted for a while, sipped our drinks and nibbled the olives and peanuts and chatted some more.  The first time we had spoken properly, and we found ourselves to be really relaxed together.  We exchanged our life stories, ambitions, talked about anything that came to mind.  The conversation moved to mild banter even the odd gentle insult.  We laughed a lot.  Our glasses were almost empty, and I moved to call the waiter.

"I've got a bit of a surprise for you.  Finish your drink and let's make a move"

I thought 'OK, he's checked out the menu and there's somewhere better in town' but instead of heading up the main street he took me to a small jetty on the river where a launch was tied up.

"It's a lovely afternoon and I thought we might take a little cruise.  Welcome aboard."

The first time we physically touched was as he reached out to help me climb in.  It was magical.  He guided me to the bench and sat me down.

"May I?"

And kissed me gently on the lips.

I watched as he started the motor and released the ropes.  Clearly he knew what he was doing.  With practised ease he manoeuvred away from the jetty and out onto the river.

"There's a rather nice little pub up here, or so I'm told, let's see if they do lunch"

Which they did.  A delicious salad, sitting in the shade of a large umbrella, sipping chilled white wine, watching the ducks and swans and, yes, chatting.  After a while I slipped to the ladies, freshened up, tidied up and released a couple of buttons from my blouse.  I knew how I wanted the afternoon to develop, and this would help things along.  I also took some condoms from the machine, which I tucked in my knickers.  It was the only place I could think of, and in any case it seemed appropriate.  I returned to our table.

"You're looking great" he said, struggling to look me in the eye

"So are you"

For the first time in the afternoon the conversation dropped.  We finished our drinks and, without rushing, made our way back to the boat.  I sat on my bench, and we kissed again.  I would have made more of it but there were a lot of people watching.  Instead I simply enjoyed the easy grace with which he moved, the obvious strength of his body, the skill with which he handled the boat.  Before I knew it we were back out in the middle of the river, heading I knew, nor cared, not where.

"Like to try?" by his gesture he wanted me to steer.  The only thing I had ever steered was a car, but I thought I should have a go.  I moved to sit opposite him in the back of the boat, and put my hand on the tiller.  He let go, and I was in charge.

"If you want to turn left, push the tiller to the right and vice versa"

It was a disaster.  My steering was so bad I could have been signing my name on the surface of the water.   His hand was now on mine, helping me.  I looked at him, and he glanced at me.  He was back in control.  I put my other hand on his and squeezed, a gesture he returned.

We had moved off the main stream and were heading up a little backwater.  

"Doing a little exploring" he said.

There was a little bay, a sandy beach, a grassy field behind.  He ran the boat up the beach and, taking off his shoes and socks, jumped into the shallow water and walked ashore to tie up.  I kicked off my own shoes and followed.  He returned to the boat, collected a bottle and glasses and at last we were alone.   Except of course for the cows, but we could ignore them.

He put down the bottle and glasses, and reached out.  I took his hands in mine.

"May I?"  

He drew me to him and we kissed.  I released his hands and wrapped my arms around him, exploring the strength of his muscles.  He embraced me, caressing my back and shoulders, pressing my breasts against his chest.

" At least let me open the wine"

It was Champagne, and chilled.  I held a glass as the cork popped, flying out over the water.  The froth filled the glass, slowly settling to a lovely clear fluid.  

"I think it would be more fun if we shared a glass, don't you?"

He took my hand and raised the glass to my lips. I took a deep draft, then reciprocated.  He finished the glass then carefully put the bottle and the glass down in the long grass.  We embraced again, this time intensely.

I pulled his shirt from his trousers and for the first time felt the bare flesh of his back and chest.  He did the same for me, and soon was releasing the remaining buttons on my blouse.  The garments fell to the floor at the same time, soon to be followed by the rest of our clothing.  Last to go were my knickers and as they fell I grabbed one of the condoms, ripping off the wrapper with my teeth and putting it on him with a movement of one hand.

I dropped back into the soft grass, pulling him down on top of me.  As I pulled him to me he entered me, gently but firmly, and started pumping.  My body had been waiting for this, preparing itself, since I had first seen him almost a day before and now it took over.  My hips were grinding into his, my hands gripping his back and buttocks, squeezing him as hard as I could.  All I was aware of was my body, filled with his.  That familiar feeling of tension and anticipation rapidly built in me, and I knew my moment of climax would soon be with me.

The tension was soon almost unbearable, as I pounded and ground myself into him.  Then at last, I was there.  Wave after wave of electric energy flowed through my whole body, from deep in side me to the tips of my fingers and toes.  Only very gradually did I relax and begin to appreciate the world around me.

John was still on top of me, his movements slow and regular.   Clearly he hadn't climaxed yet, there hadn't been time.  He kissed me, then whispered in my ear

"Wow.  Did I do that?"

"You certainly did.  How are you?"

"Fine.  Just beginning to enjoy myself"

"Good."

We rolled over, me on top with him still deep inside me.  My favourite position.  I lifted myself up to take him completely, then started rocking backward and forward.  John was kneading my breasts, one in each hand, tweaking my nipples.  As I started to move he dropped a hand between my legs and quickly found my clitoris.

I knew like this I would climax again, but now I was in control.  I could make the build up last as long as I liked.  I started a slow, steady rhythm, John moving inside me and my clitoris rubbing against his finger.  He did exactly what I wanted - nothing.

My excitement started almost immediately.  I allowed it to build, get closer and closer to the edge.  As it grew I speeded up my movements, until I knew I was almost there.  Then I slowed down, just to tease myself.  Several times I managed this, until I couldn't hold back any more.  I took myself to the edge again, and let go.

My second climax was less dramatic, but as good if not better.  As soon as I started John pulled me to him and we rolled over again.  

"Now it's my turn" his voice was strong, almost aggressive.

His steady pumping changed to strong thrusts, his breath heavy.  With every thrust he grunted and gasped, getting louder with each.  My hands were grasping his back and arse, feeling their strength as he moved toward climax.  

I don't think my second orgasm actually ended but if it did I was now engulfed in my third.  

I felt his back curl and reached down to hold his balls.  I could feel them tensing up and knew he was on his way.

"Yes"  

He shouted as he pushed deep inside me and shot

"Yes" "Yes" "Yes" 

His movements were easing now, and soon he rolled off and let himself slip out of me.  I laid my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat and breathing slowly come back to normal.  I reached down and slipped the condom from his still nearly erect body, letting his semen run out onto my hand.  I tasted it, then rubbed it on my chest.  I ran my hand back down his chest and gently caressed his shaft and balls, enjoying their moistness and the feel and smell of his body.  We fell asleep in each others arms.

We were woken by a summer shower.  Warm, gentle rain in contrast with the heat of the sun.  I went to collect our clothes to put them somewhere dry but John restrained me.

"They can dry out later"

We kissed, a long and passionate embrace punctuated by the gentle, sensual touch of the rain.  I expected to make love again, but John surprised me by standing up, drawing me to my feet.

"Let's play" 

 We ran to the river and jumped in.  The shock of the cool water soon faded as we splashed and ducked each other like a couple of school kids.  

After a few minutes I stepped back and looked at him, the first time I had actually seen the man I had made love with.  Up to then he had been a focus for desire but now I had the man in front of me.  Handsome face, broad shoulders. Chest gleaming with little rivulets of rain, a shadow of hair forming a Y between his biceps and running down to his waist.  Just a hint of darkness joining this with the forest surrounding his penis and balls, which swung freely with his every movement, drops of water falling from them.  I was entranced and moved to him, drawing his head to mine.  We kissed again.

Our second love making was more relaxed, no need to rush.  As we kissed our hands explored every part of each others body, searching out every possible way to give the other pleasure.  I kissed his nipples, taking time to pleasure each one, then kissed my way down to his penis then his balls.  I took the head in my mouth, moving the soft skin up and down against the strength of his shaft.  He kissed and caressed by breasts, gently nibbling my nipples, taking me very close to climax in the process.  He kissed my fanny, caressing the lips with his and finding my clitoris with his tongue.

Finally we were both ready and he entered me.  I was pleased that he took control since I knew he would take me in a way that gave me ultimate satisfaction and, almost more important to me, that I would give it to him.

We started slowly, John setting the pace and me following.  As his passion grew so did mine, until we were both close to climax.  Then we slowed down, maintaining the tension but not yet ready to finish.  Again we accelerated, and slowed down.  Finally I knew I was ready to take the final leap, and told him.

His thrusts became irresistible.  I returned his passion.  I knew I was moments away from climax, and so was he.  I clasped him to me, he buried his face in my neck.  I started first, and that seemed to set him off.  In a moment we were both gasping in a sea of passion, aware only of each other and our shared passion.  Even after his orgasm had finished he still thrust into me, trying to keep mine going for as long as possible.  Finally we both subsided into a trance like suspense, aware only of each other and the pleasure we had shared.

When we woke the sky was clear and the sun warm.  We hugged, kissed and gently caressed.  A soft mist rose from the grass as it dried, releasing a delicious aroma. The whole scene had a magic touch.  I wished we could have stayed there forever, just as we were, in each others arms, but reality slowly broke through.  I remembered the Champagne.

The rest of the day was a blur of swimming in the river, chatting, sleeping and loving.  Eventually the cool of the evening set in - and we ran out of condoms - so reluctantly we took the boat back and returned, separately, to the hotel.


John's Story

I had finished the team briefing, had dinner and we were having a quiet drink in the hotel bar.  Everything was ready for the start of the exhibition in the morning, and I had run out of things I needed to do.  I was contemplating a couple of rounds of golf in the morning, and sent a text to my PA warning of an urgent meeting.  She would handle the rest.

I glanced around the room just as Gayle walked in.  

Wow!  Tall, long blonde hair, wonderful figure and dressed to kill.  She glanced at me and I looked away, almost embarrassed.  

I need not have worried.  A few minutes later I turned to discover her standing beside me.  Feigning surprise I greeted her, glancing down to see her name badge and avoiding the temptation to stare down her cleavage.  We chatted easily for a few minutes, knowing that we could not be seen together for too long.  Inviting her to my room would have been a career threatening move for both of us.  I mentally cancelled the golf.

"Lunch?"

"Love to"

I could check out her details from the delegate list and e-mail her when I had sorted the arrangements.

After a fitful night and unenthusiastic breakfast I made sure the exhibition arrangements were in place and confirmed my 'meeting'.  Back to my room to change and off into town.

I knew the place quite well, we had held several conferences here and I sometimes did play golf.  Set by the river and with several very pleasant waterside pubs it makes for an excellent escape.  I had hired a small launch a couple of times to explore and had come to know the river quite well.  Suddenly I knew what I wanted.  I found the boatman and did the deal.

I had a couple of hours before Gayle would be clear, so I sent her a text arranging to meet at a wine bar in town.  Then I did a little more exploring, except this time I knew what I was looking for.  A pleasant place to sit, chat, share a bottle of wine and, maybe, a little more.  Most important it must be away from prying eyes.  And after a couple of false starts I found it.

Back in town I moored the boat and took a stroll, trying to relax.  I found my way to the wine bar and took a suitable table.  I had time to order a drink and settle a little before she would arrive.

Wow!  She had looked good the night before but this was exceptional.  The lady even managed to climb out of the taxi elegantly.

As she settled with the driver I had a chance to admire her figure - long legs topped with a delightful short skirt. This was well tight enough to hint at a well shaped arse, rounded and not too big, and her long hair fell over nicely formed shoulders and back.  

Then she turned round.

Her top was buttoned low, and was short enough to reveal her midriff and the single jewel in her navel.  If she was wearing a bra there was no way it showed and it was clear to me that it would be unnecessary.  Her breasts were not over large but were, as far as I could see, delightfully full and firm.  They could look after themselves.

With some difficulty I recovered enough composure to stand up, return her greeting and invite her to join me.  As she did I kissed her, rather formally, which she seemed to appreciate.  I ordered her a drink and began to settle down.

We chatted freely, about work at first then about ourselves, our lives and ambitions.  At that moment I had only one ambition, and although I tried hard to disguise it I was sure she was perfectly aware what it was.  Only time would tell if she shared my thoughts or was playing a game with me.

We finished our drinks and I suggested we move on.  I think she was expecting to go to a restaurant in town - she seemed mildly surprised when we moved toward the river.  She was even more surprised when she realised she was expected to board a small boat.  I had the impression she had never been anywhere near such a thing before.  I helped her aboard, taking her hand to reassure her then kissing her rather more purposefully.  We moved out onto the river and I headed for the pub where I planned lunch.

Lunch was pleasant and, for me, relaxing.  My nerves were settling - maybe partly to do with the drinks - and the conversation was free and easy.  Personal at times, spiced with jokes and mild insults, even a little risque.  Time to move on, see what the rest of the afternoon might have in store.  I went to the gents and pocketed a pack of condoms, just in case.  When I got back she asked me to look after her things while she freshened up.  I sat watching the ducks.

When she got back it was clear she was bra-less.  There were a couple less buttons securing her top and the slight chill in the pub had brought out the best in her nipples.  I had to work very hard to look her in the eyes as I gestured to board the boat again.  Her smile had a hint of anticipation to it, and when we kissed it was as passionate as was discrete in front of people enjoying lunch.

We moved off toward my little hiding place and enjoyed the river.  I even let her drive briefly, which was a disaster.  By now we were moving up my little backwater and I beached the boat and tied up, taking the wine and glasses with me.  She followed me ashore.

I put down the wine and embraced her.  For the first time we kissed properly, lips and tongues exploring, arms hugging, hands squeezing.  We both knew we wanted each other, there and then.  However there are some priorities.  

I opened the wine and poured a glass, which we shared.  One gulp each.  I put the glass and bottle and glass down carefully - we would need them again - and we embraced again.  Almost immediately she dragged my shirt from my trousers, and I responded by freeing the last of the buttons from her top.  Both garments dropped to the floor, and for the first time I could feel those wonderful breasts.  As I bent down to kiss them her hands were on my belt and fly, my trousers dropping to the floor closely followed by my boxers.  I released her skirt, and the last to fall were her knickers.

She had a condom in her hand - where it came from I had no idea and didn't waste time worrying.  Ripping the wrapper off with her teeth she slipped it on and fell into the grass, pulling me with her.  I hardly had time to enter her properly before she started writhing passionately, grinding her hips into me.  Her legs were wrapped tightly around me, her arms squeezing me, her hands gripping my back and arse, her fanny gripping my shaft.  I felt her excitement build until she seemed about to explode. 


Field Assistant



There are some prof's and TA's that make taking classes a whole lot nicer. I've always had a bit of a teacher fantasy. It seems so much easier to listen to the lecture material when you're staring at a great ass or muscular chest. There is this one professor in particular, Dr. David Dresden, who is very easy to listen to.

Dr. Dresden is a tallish man, about 6'2" with a medium build, not muscle bound but obviously in good shape. He has auburn brown hair and eyes so dark that they look black. He wears silver frame glasses and seems as comfortable in a suit as he does in jeans and a t-shirt. He's very passionate about his classes and his research. That passion is half of what attracted me to him in the first place. When he mentioned in class that he would be hiring a student for the summer as a field assistant I couldn't believe my ears. I of course stopped by the computer lab as soon as the class was over to prepare my resume and get it in as quickly as possible.

I dropped by his office a short time later to drop off my resume; he seemed pleased with my enthusiasm. He's such a quiet man. He has a palpable aura of confidence that is incredibly sexy but not overbearing like many other people I've met. I asked him some questions about the research he was planning on doing through the summer. My questions seemed to please him more. He gave me detailed descriptions of his plans, which I took careful mental notes on. A little research on your own time can do wonders in assisting the job application process.

The next week I received and e-mail informing me that I had been short-listed for the job with Dr. Dresden and that, as long as I had no conflicts, I would have an interview with him tomorrow at 1:00 pm. Now, as any woman with an urge for fieldwork knows, it is often difficult to demonstrate that you are strong enough and capable enough to match most men in the field. In my case, previous field experience would be an asset but I find that the clothing that you wear to an interview can help a lot too.

Hiking boots are a must. No field assistant is complete without them. A nice pair of pants is advisable, as skirts tend to say 'I like civilization.' I tend to go with a form-fitting t-shirt on top. It indicates that you aren't too dressy and are willing to get dirty. A white or brightly coloured shirt is best, it says 'Here I am, I'm ready for anything.' So, that's what I wore to my interview, boots, black dress pants and a snug white t-shirt.

So, armed with the knowledge that I had dug up on the type of research and the area of interest for Dr. Dresden's work that summer, I went to the interview looking great and feeling confident. His smile when I entered his office almost undid me; he was so handsome that day. He'd worn a suit to impress that he was very serious about hiring for this position. It impressed me alright; I could hardly keep from touching him. I schooled myself to be calm, it's difficult to sound intelligent when you're panting.

He asked me all sorts of standard interview questions. I elaborated on my previous field experience and explained why I was interested in this position and why I thought I would be useful to him. After many questions, I got my chance to ask him more questions about his work. He seemed surprised that I had done enough research on my own to question him for half an hour. It was delicious watching his eyes sparkle in...amusement?...as I drew more information from him. A little before two o'clock he thanked me for my time and said that he would get back to me within the next couple of days. He laid his hand lightly on my shoulder as he opened the door for me. I thanked him as I walked out and smiled to myself as he invited the next interviewee in.

Two days later, I saw him as I was heading to the computer lab. He asked me to join him in his office for a moment; my heart started beating a little faster. When we got there, he told me that I could have the job if I still wanted it, which of course I did. He asked if I would mind taking a couple of minutes to fill out the various forms to make my employment official. As I completed the forms we discussed schedules, equipment and information I would need before we headed out into the field. When everything was in order, I got up to leave. He put that hand on my shoulder again and asked me not to discuss my new employment with anyone until he had a chance to inform the other candidates. I agreed happily and left his office with a warm glow that centred on my shoulder.

May 1st, my first day of work, came upon me quickly. Exams had flown by with happy results. I went home to visit my parents between the end of exams and the start of my new job. Dr. Dresden and I spent our first week together collecting gear and maps, packing equipment and ensuring that the companies that would be supplying us with food and aircraft had the same schedule that we did. David, he insisted on my use of his first name as we would be spending so much time together, had planned that we would be in the field for the entire summer. Supplies would be delivered to us once a week and we would move our camp to a new location once every two weeks.

I pack accordingly. Work cloths for warm and cold weather, a bathing suit, and my field gear. Nothing dressy came near my pack, as really I'd have nothing to dress up for except the bears...and David. Well, he would be in field gear too so I wasn't worried about impressing him with fashion sense. I did throw in a couple of pairs of sexy underwear though, just in case.

I went partying with my friends that weekend, as I wouldn't see them until a few days before the fall semester started. I whispered with my best friend about the fun I'd have during the summer and joked about being so close and so alone with such a delicious man. She gave me a personalized flask filled with brandy as a good luck present. I hugged her all night and promised to write.

Monday morning found me packed and ready to go. David picked me up so that I wouldn't have to bus to the school with my gear. We loaded up the truck and headed to the airport. We flew in a Dash 8 north and then we were in a Twin Otter on floats. We landed in a small lake late that afternoon. After unloading the gear and doing a radio check, we started setting up our first camp on the beach of the lake. We each had our own tent as well as the kitchen/work tent where we would do most of our living. 

The first two weeks flew by so fast that I hardly had time to notice my frequent proximity to David as we explored the mountains around our camp. David taught me exactly how he wanted samples taken and how to take notes that would be useful to him. We cover about twenty kilometres every day and always came back exhausted and laden with samples.

We received our food order after the first week. We simply worked non-stop. Bed was never far from my thoughts. And then, we had to pack up camp. Two weeks had passed and a plane was coming to move us to a new location. We had just finished packing when I heard the buzz of the plane's engines coming towards us. We loaded the plane, flew to the next site and set up camp again. That evening, after dinner, David asked if I would be comfortable working on my own for the rest of the summer. We would be able to cover twice as much ground if we split up. I agreed. I was becoming comfortable with the area and the mountains. I was still worried about bears but David was little protection so I would be no worse off on my own.

We covered enough ground in those two weeks that David decided that we deserved a day off. So, the day before the plane was scheduled to arrive for our next camp move we stayed in camp and relaxed. We both slept in a bit. I spent half the day playing in the lake, floating around and relaxing. David came in the water for a while but mostly stayed on the beach and vegged. It was so relaxing, I felt refreshed by the break. I took some time making dinner that night. This resulted in dinner being a lovely change from the slapped together meals that we usually made after a day out in the field. I actually had some time that day to look at David. It seemed like I hadn't done that in a month, and really, I guess I hadn't.

I noticed how tanned he was and how taut too. That's when I looked down at myself. I almost didn't recognize my own body. I too was darkly tanned, at least in some areas. So, I had odd tan lines but I didn't mind that much. What really surprised me was the lack of padded areas on my body. I'd never been fat but I'd never been this toned before. My flat muscles made me feel very sexy. I was more flirtaceous with David that night than ever before. He didn't have a wife or a girlfriend as far as I knew and I didn't think he'd object too much to a bit of flirting. He simply smiled at me. That smile was all I needed.

We moved our camp the next day. Talking to the pilot was great. We were always starved for news of the outside world. And then, once again, the airplane was flying away from us as we began setting up camp. 

* * *

Two days later, things got a little crazy. Luckily, David and I were in the habit of chatting rather regularly on our radios to one another. We would comment on interesting finds and ensure that the other was alright. The radios were our safety line as well as our way of not being totally alone even when, physically, we were.

I tripped. I don't really remember it. One minute I was walking across a talus slop, the next thing I remember is that I'm near the bottom of the hill and David is calling me on the radio. I grabbed my radio to tell him that I could hear him and then I tried to stand up. I was so humiliated when I had to call him to help me.

"I think I've twisted my left ankle." I say to him. He tells me not to move and that he'll get to me as fast as possible.

He keeps talking to me over the radio. I know he's trying to keep me out of shock. I answer his questions. He's asking me anything that he could think of. 'Where did you grow up?' 'What does your mother do?' I manage not to laugh at him too much, his concern touches me and I know that he's doing the right thing. I wriggle out of my pack so that I can grab my solar blanket. I cover myself so that I don't get too cold. I didn't want to loosen my boot; I didn't want to know how bad it is until we were back in camp.

It only took David half and hour to reach me, though it seemed to be much longer than that. The look on his face when he finally got to me made me laugh, I realized then that I was suffering from shock already. I had no idea what I looked like to him, a mass of scrapes and bruises just beginning to purple under a silver solar blanket. He checked my whole body for injury but other than a small bump on my head and my ankle, I was pretty much alright. We managed to agree that my ankle probably wasn't broken. I convinced him that, with help, I'd be able to walk back to camp. After all, we option did we have, he certainly couldn't carry me.

It took four hours to get back to camp, more than twice as long as it had taken me to get out there. By the time we got there, tears were streaming down my face against my will. David brought me to my tent and sat me on my bed. He tried to gently remove my boot. I couldn't help crying out as he pulled it from my foot. He quickly removed my sock and started examining my ankle. He told me to lie back on my bed; he moved my leg for me so that I wouldn't use any of the muscles. He wrapped a tensor bandage around it, I'm sure that he could hear me grinding my teeth. Once my ankle was secured to his satisfaction, he removed my cloths leaving me in my sports bra and undies. I was little delirious from the pain and giggled when I remembered that I had worn a thong that day. I'm sure David blushed. He bundled me in blankets and told me that he would be right back.

When he returned, I took the acetaminophen that he gave me and tried not to grimace as he began cleaning my scrapes. He checked my head thoroughly, although I guess the bump didn't seem that bad to him. He was so set on making sure that my injuries were thoroughly dirt-free that I started giggling. The look he gave me when I started that made me giggle harder. He finished cleaning my wounds although he seemed a little concerned about my laughter. I ran out of energy as he finished. He pushed my hair back from my eyes and told me to sleep. I had no energy left to protest so I closed my eyes.

When I opened my eyes again, David wasn't there. I panicked a little, not really knowing what had happened. I tried to sit up which resulted in me falling back down in pain. I felt like I'd been beaten with a baseball bat. I guess I must have cried out because David was in the tent with me in seconds later. That's when I remembered what had happened.

My humiliation hit me hard. I couldn't even look at him. If I had been watching my footing more closely we would both be in the field right now. I started apologizing for costing him valuable field time. I felt the tears running down my face. I hardly registered the shock on his face, he took my face in his hands to force me to look into his eyes. He told me that it was and accident and that it wasn't my fault as many times as I apologized. And then, his lips were on mine. My first thought was that he was trying to shut me up, then I didn't care and started kissing him back. 

All of a sudden, he was standing beside my bed, stammering apologies, and then he fled my tent. At first, I was very hurt by his retreat but I made myself relax. He was probably scared, and probably should be. It's against university policy for a professor to be involved with a student. I wasn't going to tell anyone and I didn't have any more classes with him so I decided that it didn't matter. The bump on my head throbbed. I closed my eyes to try to relax and fell asleep.

The next day I woke up and decided that I couldn't stay in bed any longer. I wanted to be useful so that our time here wasn't totally lost. I levered myself out of bed and onto my feet. I told myself that my ankle would heal better with regular movement. I pulled some cloths on, that hurt like hell, and hobbled around the tent. I sat down and unbandaged my ankle. It didn't look as bad as I originally thought. It was only slightly bruised with some swelling. The walk and the bump on my head must have made it seem worse than it was. I re-bandaged myself and slowly made my way to the kitchen tent.

I didn't see David right away so I set about making a meal. I wasn't sure what time of day it way so I made pasta. I figured David would be hungry too as I generally did most of our cooking. He must have heard me puttering around because he showed up at the tent with that shocked, and now slightly ashamed, look. I treated him as I did normally when I was tired and told him to sit down. He seemed to relax a bit when I didn't immediately protest his earlier actions. I served up pasta for both of us and was too busy eating to talk.

After I had finished stuffing myself I managed to convince David that he should continue with the field work and that I would be fine alone in camp for a couple of days until I could walk better. We had brought a laptop so that we could start entering data. Normally we were both too tired to do this so I volunteered as that way I would be at lest a little bit productive and not feel so guilty about my ankle.

He went out the next morning. I managed to keep up our regular radio banter so that I knew that he was okay and to restore the easy relationship we had before. I had a meal ready for him when he got back to camp. I noticed that he seemed more tired than normal but it didn't really register. By the third day of this routine and him coming back more exhausted every day I had to find out what was going on.

I got him to confess that he was doing twenty-five to thirty kilometre traverses in the same amount of time that we usually did twenty kilometre traverses. I was appalled. He obviously could not keep this up for long but I wasn't yet in enough shape to go out as well. I tried to convince him that he would just get hurt if he pushed himself so hard. He was set on getting as much terrain as possible covered. I told him fine, then I would go out tomorrow too. I hadn't even noticed that I had started crying. He looked up at me as he started to protest; he saw my tears. He looked utterly crushed. He just hung his head, unable, or unwilling to look at me. I couldn't handle it.

I got up and hobbled around the table to him. He looked up at me with so much pain in his eyes. I took his face in my hands this time, he tried to pull away but I wouldn't let him. I kissed him. He kissed back at first and then started to protest.

"This isn't right, I can't do this to you." he tells me and starts to pull away. I sat quickly on his lap, knowing that he wouldn't dump me on the floor.

"I believe you have it backwards, I'm doing it to you and I think it's very right." He continued to object and tried to stand up.

"What's wrong? Aren't I pretty enough? Aren't I smart enough?" I asked him.

He groans and shakes his head "No, it's not that..."

"It's that it's not proper. I've wanted to touch you the first time I saw you." I told him. "You kissed me first, you must find me at least a little bit attractive."

"I do but..." he whispered hoarsely.

"Then let me!" I started kissing him. He tried to fight at first but slowly I felt him start to relax. He started kissing me and held me tightly.

"You don't know what you're doing." he said to me. His eyes looked somewhat fierce but he still held me tightly.

"I know exactly what I'm doing." I told him. "I'm attempting to seduce and take advantage of the most attractive man I've ever met."

He groaned deeply and began kissing me again. He stood up, holding me in his arms and knocking over the bench. He carried me to his tent. I was a little worried, as the cots we had were not made for two people. Somehow, I still haven't figured out how, he managed to pull his bedding from his cot onto the floor without putting me down. He laid me down in the little nest he had created and began kissing me all over. He slid my shirt up my belly leaving kissed in its wake. He lifted me slightly so that he could pull the shirt over my head. His lips and hands seemed to be everywhere. He removed my shoes and socks so gently that I hardly felt it. He slid my sweat pants down over my hips and off my feet. He looked down at me, lying in his blankets in my bra and thong. He had a look in his eyes that I can only describe as hunger.

He was very gentle around my bruises and very firm and insistent where my skin was untouched. His tongue sent shivers through me as he worked his way up my body from my feet to my face. He kissed me deeply, his tongue flicking around my lips. His right hand slid under my bra and cupped my breast. I could feel him hard and hot against my thigh. He unclasped my bra and slid it free of my arms.

His hands cupped my breasts. He massaged them lightly before lowering his mouth to my left breast. He sucked on the underside sending jolts of pleasure through my body before he moved his tongue to my nipple. He licked, sucked, and nibbled before switching to my right breast. His tongue set me on fire.

I tried to unbutton his plaid shirt as he caressed my breasts but was having difficulty. He sat up and pulled his shirt open, popping the buttons off that I hadn't managed to undo. He pulled that shirt off followed by his white t-shirt. I ran my hands through his soft curly chest hair and pulled him back down to me. I ran my hands all over his torso as he resumed kissing my breasts. His body was strong and smooth.

He started kissing his way down my stomach, his hands caught my hips. He rolled me onto my stomach. He groaned softly before resuming kissing my body. He kissed my cheeks and kneaded them with his hands as he kissed his way up my back to my neck. He pressed his body against mine as he nibbled and kissed the back of my neck. I could feel his cock throbbing against my leg. His hands slid my thong down my legs. He began kissing down my legs as he slid my underwear past my feet.




Field Day



Let's just start out by saying I'm Latino and he's black. 

I called him one day and told him to meet me in our field. That field is the best place to walk. It's beautiful and it has a small pond with blue gills in it. And plenty of frogs. The field is also very isolated so no one can hear you when you moan. 

Greg was already there when I arrived and we started walking immediately. 

"Spit it out, why we here?" he asked.

"I dunno, Greg, I just felt like walking with you," I answered. He took my hand and we kept walking.

When we reached the little pond on the north end, we stopped. I sat down, but he kept walking, around the edge of the pond. After a minute I got up and joined him. I stopped again and next minute I felt his arms around my middle, lifting me up. I shrieked and started kicking. Greg tossed me in the pond. I splashed him.

He backed away and I yelled, "Hey you get your ass back here and help me out!!"

He laughed and said, "Drag yourself out bitch!"

I splashed again and he backed further away. I had to drag myself out and when he came up and I hugged him, getting him wet too. He laughed. I smiled and peeled my shirt, revealing two hard tits from the cold water. I threw my shirt down by the edge and motioned for us to keep walking.

We walked away from the pond, around in the field. We walked to the west end, next to the old, old fence. I hopped on a fence post and sat on it. Greg crossed his arms on my legs and we talked for a while. When he stood straight and I jumped down, I noticed the (very large) bulge in his pants. Just to be cruel, I rubbed the inside of my calves like I was dusting them off. Greg sighed and I noted with pleasure that the bulge had grown an inch at least. 

I took his hand and we began to walk to the pond again, my shirt had to be dry by now. 

I picked up my shirt and waved it around, flinging water everywhere. His arms came around my waist again, but no lift-off. I turned around and realized how close we were. Very close.

I asked, "Do you think my shirt and I should get together?"

He said, "The only thing I think should get together is you and me," and we kissed.

I began to get pretty close and realized how big he really was. Then I realized how much I had to have him at that moment. I was burning for his big dick. I pressed my body against his groin and still it grew slightly.

I grinned and asked, "Damn, how big is your dick gonna grow?"

He smiled back and said, "Keeping rubbing and you'll find out."

I felt a hand go down my back and then under my shirt. Oh there's the other hand, he unsnapped my bra and I slid it off. He unbuttoned my shirt and slid it off. I took his shirt off and fumbled with his pants. I finally managed to get those off and his boxers. Saluting soldier I swear that thing had to be a foot long and 2-3inches wide. He easily got my pants and underwear off. I took his throbbing cock in one hand and slowly rubbed it. His eyes closed. Then like a good little girl, I got on my knees and paid homage. I licked up and down his shaft and then engulfed it slowly. Slowly because I had to open my throat for it. I didn't think I could get it all but I somehow did. My tongue flicked around the base and I took his balls in my hands. I squeezed gently then heard him groan wit pleasure. I began bobbing my head slowly around his huge black cock. I squeezed his balls again and a minute later I felt them contract in the slightest them and them felt the hot cum down throat, I managed to swallow it all and took his semi hard dick out of my mouth. I licked up and down the shaft again to make sure I got all of the cum off. I stood up again and kissed him.

He picked me and laid me down. Then he began to finger fuck me while sucking on a tit. I was just moaning, grinding against his hand on my cunt. I moaned out I was gonna orgasm and he kept fucking down there, but he moved his head up to my neck. 

My body shook as I orgasmed, one of his planted on a hip to hold me down some. After that my body was limp and he was just kissing on my neck. Then Greg brought up his cum-covered hand and licked on it. He put it to my lips and I licked it. Fuck I might as well, we started making out after that and could taste traces of my juices in his mouth.

Then he sat up and put the tip of his dick on the lips of my dripping wet pussy. I moaned and he lowered his huge cock onto the entrance of me. I thrust my hips upward and took more of him. He kept a slow steady pace and finally he had buried himself to his balls. 

Then, slowly at first, he started pumping in and out, in and out. He was slow at first and I was thankful for it. He was huge! I had never had something that big in me. I swear he hit my stomach a few times. I arched my back and moaned loudly. I heard him grunt and he came. He filled me with his cum in about three seconds but he still had more cum to come. When he finally pulled his limp dick out of me, I was limp too. I had orgasmed and I felt his juice seep out with mine.

Greg flopped down in the grass next to me, took my hand, kissed my fingers individually then said, "Shit that was good. I don't think I've ever cum that much before."

I smiled and said, "I'm just that way."

"Yeah you are."

After we laid there for a while, I got up and jumped in the pond and waded around in there. The pond is sort of deep. Greg, who is 6'0", can stand in it to his elbows. I'm pretty tall for my family-5'8"- and it's about my collarbone. 

He waded in and a minute later had his arms around my waist, pressing his hard again dick against my cunt. I reached down and took it in my hands.

I said, "What, you want more?"

He smiled, nodded, and said, "Just a quickie, something to give me before the sun sets."

I looked to the west and it was really setting.

I looked back at him, "Here in the water?" 

"We're in the water aren't we?" 

I lifted myself slightly and set myself on his cock again and wiggled a little. My cunt had already grown accustomed to huge equipment. I reached down through the water and jiggled his balls. He closed his eyes. I jumped up and wrapped my legs around him and he started to walk backwards toward the side of the pond. Sex on the "beach" what fun. He expertly laid on his back on the bank on the pond and I unwrapped my legs. 

I began ride him like a bucking horse and said, "Yeehaw!" He laughed. Greg put his hands on my hips and started to move his own in rhythm to mine. It didn't take long for me orgasm but when I fell forward, he flipped me so I was on bottom and he took over. He pumped in and out, in and out. He came inside me again and I knew it wouldn't stay very long in there. I was right, I felt it seep out when he took himself out. 

It was dark by now and very romantic time for fucking.

I got up and went back into the pond to wash the dirt off my back. Greg followed. He took my hips from behind and had begun to sway them, as if there was music. I lay the to pof my body against mine and let him have at it. 

He carried my limp body to the grass and laid me down, made a kiss line from bellybutton to chest, chest to neck, neck to lips. Then he told me to get on all fours. I did so. He got behind me and I expected him to start fucking my cunt again but I felt him rubbing my ass crack and I knew he was going anal on me. What the hell, I'd never done it before. I moaned and pushed against his cock when I felt the head. My ass opened willingly and took him in, inch by inch. When he was in all the way I felt his balls against my wet cunt. He pulled out, them shoved it in, very fast and rough. I cried out. Then I had an idea that turned me on.

I cried out, "Oh master not so rough, master!"

He pulled out and pushed it roughly again.

I moaned and cried out, "Master is rough on his slave!"

I felt his balls slap my pussy and I heardhim grunt from behind, "Master does as he wishes to his slaves."

I whimpered and cried out again as he shoved his cock further in my ass, "Master is rough!"

Then I really did cry out when he starting shooting up my ass! I cried out, "Oh master is rough on his slaves! He loves his slaves naughty!"

He pulled out his cock, still hard, flipped me on my back, and shoved his cock in my mouth. I managed to whimper like a little girl and began sucking on his cock. I moved my tongue all along his cock and felt it throb under my touch. I took it in my hands at the base and started bobbing my head. Then I felt his hands at the back of my head pushing me further onto him. I took my hands off and had his cock down my throat almost. I whimpered again, he grunted, and came again! I was thinking, damn that was fast. He pulled his limp dick out of my mouth, wrapped an arm around my middle and we laid down. 

He said, "Master wishes to sleep."

I moved closer to him and felt the warmth coming from his body. I pressed my body against his and we did eventually fall asleep.



Field Hands



 [©2011 BY CLINTON09; ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18 WITH IDENTITIES DISGUISED; THIS STORY HAS A 'HARDER EDGE' THAN MOST; BE WARNED:  HERE BE DRAGONS; FOR AGES 25 OR ABOVE]

[Mom and son celebrate her freedom/divorce with a Caribbean vacation; they go to a rarely visited cay and have quite an adventure.]

[Caveat: Note to reader: there are many 'kinder, gentler' stories than this one.  You might consider that before embarking.  Well, we warned you.]



It all came as a minor shock to me.  I had no inkling that my parents were contemplating a divorce.  As it turned out, they weren't—it just happened.

My mother, Sue, was thirty-six.  She had let herself age 'gracefully' and not try to be some little ingénue or cover girl.   From tanning and jogging outdoors, she had some facial lines (heavens!) and even a few lines of color in her legs that she hadn't had there as a teen.  There were a very few extra pounds, here and there.  She was a true soccer mom and looked the part.

Now that didn't give her husband/my father a license to fool around.  Alas, that is what he did.  When mom arrived at his office for an unplanned lunch outing, she instead found him and his dowdy secretary doing unspeakable things.  His tubby 'girl Friday' couldn't type or do much else, but she was much younger than mom at twenty.  My mother stormed out and filed for divorce the same day.  

That brings us up to speed.  Everyone in the office knew what was going on with 'the old man' and that Rosanne Barr-like secretary of his.  My mom got a nice settlement. Sweet...

Mom kicked him to the curb.  I was offered the choice of parents, since I was still a minor at seventeen (for one more week).  I chose my mom.

Before our great trip, mom and I had never so much as looked at each other in the wrong way, let alone 'done anything'.  Oh sure, there were nights when she'd 'tuck me in'.  Sometimes tearful, she'd whisper sweet nothings about how much she loved me before a goodnight kiss.  

It was innocent in the extreme, even if the kisses lingered depending upon her mood.  Still and all, there was nothing untoward about a good-night kiss, even if it lasted one or two minutes...Well, okay, on those nights she gave me a really long goodnight kiss, I normally would have some pretty hot dreams.   

Those dreams would feature me and guess who doing wild things ending in a long breeding session.   The only other 'unusual things' between my mother and me was her 'attire' as I was growing up.  Until I was 'too old' at nine, she didn't worry about what she was wearing, or not wearing, around me when we were alone.  

She also called for me to get her this or that while she was taking a bubble bath.  So it wasn't a big deal: a lingering kiss goodnight, our own private little birthday parties, mom's bubble baths, and doing her hair and nails.  That was it:  Just a normal boy and his gorgeous mom. 

Okay, one last thing:  when her old man was away on trips, she always had me lay out her clothes for the day.  I never questioned her about that.  It was so simple, too.  Bottom drawer for undies, either thong or those 'defective' ones she got which lacked a front to them.  Top drawer had her bras, all 34D.  All of them were stretched to the maximum, her heavy breasts often making the clasps burst open in the back or the button in the front pop off.  

For some reason, all of the bras had a pointed little dome inside at the center of the bra.  Little did I know that mom's nipples erected whenever she saw--or even thought--of me.

So there we are.  Mom and I were still together after the divorce.  My mother was beautiful of face (blonde hair, blue eyes, Hollywood smile) and figure.   If you ever saw that Farrah-Fawcett Playboy disk you'd have some idea of my mother's spectacular figure...and understand why those bras were worn out the way they were.

Anyway, she wanted something to spice up our lives and cheer her up after the shock of the divorce.  She saw this ad for inexpensive luxury vacationing on a rarely visited cay in the Bahamas.  Mom thought it'd be wild and daring to go off the 'beaten path' for once.  Our neighbors were this marvelous black couple, both attorneys.  They said they never heard of that island, though they frequently wintered in the Bahamas.  They warned us about being too daring in our plans.  Perhaps we should've heeded their warning.

Taking the Caulk flying service from Miami, we soon found ourselves at this remote cay, not much more than a speck of land in the Caribbean.  The plane dumped us and our luggage (mostly mom's) on the driveway of the home.  The place was frequented by small aircraft and sail (pontoon) planes.

We waited for a bellhop then gave up and headed to the main building to introduce ourselves and get schedules for meals and entertainment.  Yes, sure...

We reached the main house where we found there were no other guests, no itinerary set up, and no males of any kind.  There were a dozen females of various ages, with six elders obviously in charge.

Esther (one of the elders): "Well, we were wondering when someone would answer that damn ad in the Miami Herald; we'd run it for two years.  If you haven't guessed by now, this isn't the Emerald Beach Hotel in Nassau.  We like your money, even if it is only U.S. currency.  However, the exchange rates have changed."  

"So, we now need not just your cheap currency but some solid work out of you.  We are putting the two of you to work tomorrow, tending and harvesting the crops that your heroes from Spain and England brought here for cash crops or to feed their slaves.  You will be OUR slaves.  It's only fair; I think you'd agree if you could see it from our viewpoint...our history.  So, white devils, sleep well tonight; you will need all the rest you can get for tomorrow."

We weren't sure whether this was a joke or not.  Then one of the elder women produced a Luger P08, no doubt left by some prior guest.  I didn't know if it was loaded, but she sure knew how to pull back the bolt before she put it against my forehead.  It was a quiet reminder that escape was 'frowned upon'.  That got us quietly moving along to our pathetic 'guest house', a wooden shack that must have cost at least $20 to build.

Mom and I huddled together that night, literally quaking.  The next morning at sunrise, we were given this horrible tasteless porridge (made from breadfruit I was told) and then taken to the fields.  

At the start, I was pudgy, pale (from being an indoor video game jock), pasty and puny.  My mother was only a few pounds and a few shades of pale short of perfection.  This experience would even the playing field and bring us together.  

Both of us had at least packed sports activity duds which could serve as work clothes.  Our clothes were new and quite nice...at first.  We kept one change of clothes intact in the vain hope that we might need them while escaping.

On my eighteenth birthday, we got back to the workers' home after an exhausting day.  As usual, mom had to stoop over the low-lying crops, pinching excess flowers while jarring those damn Asian beetles.  I for my part would do the same.  I also had to do the heavy lifting when there were picked crops in the bushel baskets or heavy palettes to be off-loaded.

As a result of all this, my mom had dropped her excess weight of a pound or two really fast.  My God, this place was like the beauty spa from hell, but it did make us tanned, lean, strong, and healthy.  My mother's 'natural figure' now came into view like a Michelangelo sculpture hidden in marble.   She had been a prematurely aging 'soccer mom'.  

With the incredible hours of work, the relentless sun, the bending and lifting, my mother was now lithe and fit enough to be an NFL cheerleader.  What was even better was that she was unbelievably toned, like the bikini models in those ESPN fitness competitions.  Sleek, sexy, perfect; my aging soccer mom was now atomic hot.

I for my part was like an eighteen year old bodybuilder, with a great physique and outrageous 'guns' on my arms from all that lifting.  As we toiled in the field, getting tanned (it only took days) and toned (that took weeks), our clothes were being used to the point of wearing out.   Eventually, our clothes were mere tatters (except for that one set kept in reserve...just in case).

You must remember that we were toiling beneath the Caribbean sun.   So here I was a strapping eighteen year old, deprived of any other social contact.  As I toured the fields behind my mother, I would see her well tanned legs, her now pert and rock-hard behind, and the sides of her perfect breasts.   Not many soccer moms of her age still had dimples just above a pert bum. 

As her son, I should've just ignored that imagery.  Instead, the heat brought out the animal in me.  I would pull up behind my toiling mother, grab her, and let my now erect ten inch cock slide right into her thru the tatters of her outfit.  Sweating from the hard work, she still could manage a low moan of pleasure as my rough big-headed cock slid into her with no opposition.  The rough invader rubbed her sensitive walls vigorously.

We had been reduced to animals and now we were having sex in the open like animals.   My now gorgeous mother could be seen in the middle of this farm field, standing while her bulked up son was drilling into her from behind.  Mom was looking skyward as I was breeding her like a male rabbit.  Talk about strange, we had been almost hypnotized into our respective roles.  

So, as I was desperately trying to cum in her, my mom was actually starting to move again, row to row, plant to plant!  I just gave up.  As she drifted away down the long plant row, I stood, huffing and puffing, my magnificent ten inch baby maker still erect, still hard, positively dripping with pre-cum.   Some days I wouldn't take 'no' for an answer and followed her until she'd allow me to unload deep inside her.  She'd complete her rounds, her cunt overflowing with cum, the excess oozing out and drooling down her tanned satiny thighs.  

I learned, though, that farm women are strong--real strong.  My mom was exercising (working) 12 hours a day so she could give as good as she got.  If she really didn't want it and wasn't just playing coy, she'd let me know it.  Ouch...

Finishing the day's work with a hard cock bobbing in front of me, I lifted the heavy palettes onto a skid.  With the setting of the warm sun, my day was threw and I literally staggered back to the 'guest house'.

One day, mom slipped on some mud and was on all fours.  Crudely I lifted her up and attached her to my rock hard cock.

Mom: "If you're going to have your way with me, at least face me as if you love me!"

With that prodding, I removed mom from my cock, where she'd been in front of me, suspended above the ground, held up only by that ten inch monster.  Twirling her around, I lifted her atop my mighty meat, letting her settle down until she was firmly attached to me.  She let out a slight gasp and then moaned out the first of eight orgasms that night.  

It was quite a sight: I was slowly walking back to the 'privacy' of our shack.  Meanwhile, my mom was attached to me in front like a papoose.  She wrapped her legs around me while our lips danced and my hands roamed across her perfect tanned curves.  

Mom: "This is horrible; we're treated like animals and now we breed like animals.  Is this our fate...oh that feels so good...no...wait...THERE!...I can't...I can't fight it.  Oh, God, Jimmy, breed me...breed me now.  They probably want us to produce a huge new army of field workers.  We should say no, but I can't.  I want your sperm, your precious seed, deep inside me.  Please baby, please plant it inside my own fertile garden.  Your seeds can safely grow there.  Give me your babies!"

That day was the best day we ever spent on that accursed island.  I walked all the way back to our shack with my mom going up and down on my cock like the twelfth cylinder in a Ferrari.  My powerful hands, exhausted from the heavy labor, still mustered enough strength to work my mom's perfect body up and down at lightning speed.  

Once we got to our little hovel, we barely got inside the door.  I closed it with my foot and then pressed mom against the closed door.  At that moment I blasted her insides with a tidal wave of cum: cum absolutely teeming with my vibrant lively sperm.  I was then in incredible shape and that seemed to help my stamina.  I came copiously. Mom moaned in pleasure as the searing hot liquid splattered her insides with the very seed of life.  The excess thick white syrup slowly dripped out, a stark contrast to the rich darkness of her fantastic tanned thighs.

After finishing, we settled into bed.  To mom's shock, it only took a half hour in the tight quarters in bed for me to get hard again.  I was so turned on we ended up doing it four times that night.  Three more times I came deep inside of her.  The last time, we were so exhausted we literally collapsed together in mutual orgasm with my final blast of baby batter into that tight, clinging love tunnel.

So, it turned into a daily routine.  Hard work in the field, occasional breaks for gruel, and then back to work until the sun set.  With the blessed return of (relatively) cool nights, we'd stagger back to the 'palatial mansion'.

There, seated on the crude twin bed that had to accommodate both of us, was my now perfect mother.  She looked like the tanned Bo Derek of 'Ten', or at least her well-built mother.  You can only imagine how I felt after a long hard day in the field.  Here I was shoehorned into a tiny bed with this woman with jutting tits, a sculptured body, a rock hard bum, and shapely tanned legs.  There was no way that I wouldn't get hard, steel hard, just snuggling.  

My beautiful mother always tried to talk me out of it, saying she was exhausted from the fieldwork.  That was true enough, but I couldn't help myself.  As we lay there together, my powerful cock just naturally sought entrance to her.  Mom would be there, facing away from me.  Then she felt this thing, like a cast iron pipe, pushing relentlessly between her tanned legs, then upwards towards the very gates of heaven.  Her 'gates' were covered by a thick soft forest of the palest blonde hair.  Sometimes she pushed me away; I never forced myself upon her.  Other times, she'd push the cockhead (the size and shape of a large mushroom) inside of her, just lightly touching her slavering pussy lips.  

On those wonderful nights, my cock would be admitted into the best place on earth.  Nestled in the sopping wet pussy lips of my horny mom, my love messenger would begin its long journey into the fertile depths of my wonderful mother.   As I pushed it forward, the oversized cockhead would drag itself along, rubbing and tingling her inner walls.  Then it seemed to settle into this deep gorge.  As it 'landed' there, she'd always wince, in pain and utter pleasure.  

Whenever I was certain I was in as deep as I could go, she'd always turn, give me a deep soul kiss, and move ever so slightly.  With that tiny movement, my cock suddenly felt her slip away.  Curious, I would bend her up on our tiny little bed until her legs were bouncing against my shoulders.  With her in the shape of an 'L', I found I could make that last plunge inside and touch this strange alcove.  There, my baby-maker seemed to find a new home, even tighter, warmer, and more welcoming than ever before.  Unknown to me, I was directly inside her fertile womb.  Then I released my tidal wave of cum, flooding it with baby-making sperm.

The only variety in our daily life was a night when we could sneak off to the nearby shore.  We weren't watched at night; they presumed the reef sharks would be good enough prison guards.  Well, we didn't go for a swim, but some nights we just had to cool off in the surf.  Right out of 'From Here to Eternity', we would make love under the starry sky.  I particularly loved it when my mom would be on top and I could see Orion's Belt just over her shoulder as she sat upon my ten inch tower of love.

Like I said, when we first were drafted into farm work, we were just innocent mother and son, pale, pasty, and totally Platonic.  Then, forced to sleep in the same bed, work in the same field, and face the same hardships, we became hopelessly linked in love and passion.  In other words, as we went from suburban wastoids to natural hardbodies, our native instincts emerged.  For my part, I wanted to breed, constantly.  

As a result, every morning...that's EVERY morning...my mother would awaken with her pussy positively dripping, drooling out, the very seed of life.  I was relentless and remorseless, cycle time or not, exhaustion or not.  I was a breeding machine and constantly pumped my potent seed into the unprotected and incredibly fertile womb of my (now) gorgeous mother.  Every night was like we were making porno films.  I would finish up with my cockhead just barely within the lips of her pussy.  When we finished my now used up cock would be ejected with a mild popping sound.

It was the same thing in the morning.  I would awaken with some serious 'morning wood', maybe ten inches worth.  After awhile, my mom was very understanding and let me vent my love inside of her.  You have no idea how nice it was to be able to pump all that potent seed inside a welcoming and unprotected womb instead of into some waste basket.  As a result of this, often mom would head out into the fields in the morning, a trail of my cum drooling down her satiny thighs and shapely tanned legs.  My mother was blessed with incredible legs that kept bikini-wax sheen with no effort on her part.  

From city people we had been turned into animals of the field.  Months into our 'adventure', my clothes were so worn that I walked about the fields with my cock swinging free and easy.  There was no mystery when I came upon my supersexy mom.  Anyone with binoculars from 300 yards could watch that ten inch cobra raise its magnificent head in excitement.  I tell you, it was a wonder that any work was done at all given my almost constant state of arousal.  

We were a closed little world of our own: our only contacts the harsh, bitter women of the main house.  There was no respite from them; they never relented or repented.  On New Year's Eve, they paid us a rare visit.  As one of the elder women mumbled drunkenly, another went about joking about our 'accommodations' in that shack.  Of course, her 'concern' for us didn't stop her from trashing the place.   We couldn't intervene, as the eldest lady, as always, packed that heat (Luger pistol) and wasn't shy to wave it about. 

The only other stimuli for me was a single copy of Sports Illustrated, the first swimsuit issue.  It was in a protective plastic wrap and left in our little house—a memento of the SI camera crew who shot the issue here on location.  The original pictures featured the hot model Cheryl Tiegs; she wore a revealing bikini that clearly displayed her marvelous bush.  It was an arresting sight.  

Later, SI put out an airbrushed version of that 1st issue, her suit covering her fabulous 'forest' down there.  To be honest, I would occasionally steal a glimpse of it before servicing my equally exciting mom...

Day after day, I repeatedly pumped pints of life-giving sperm into my mother's unprotected pussy.  It only made sense that this industrial unloading of oceans of potent seed inside a fertile womb would have some effect.  Sure enough, my mom got pregnant after my eighteenth birthday when we started having sex.  She had a miscarriage.  

When she got pregnant a second time, the 'elders' of the house said that the last pregnancy took too much time out of mom's workday; instead, they were going to 'fix that'.  They planned to have some midwife do a procedure on her!  They implied that she'd never have to 'worry' about getting pregnant again.




Field Hands



Up till then, we had never tried to escape.  The currents around the island were treacherous.  The women warned us of sharks.   Sure enough, I saw the dreaded bull and tiger sharks.  That would not be a pleasant swim, especially for my mother.  

In desperation, we wondered what we could do.  Then, on the day planned for mom's 'procedure', the midwife surprised us by arriving by plane.  In a lucky happenstance, the new visitors spent time with our captors drinking into a Goombay frenzy.  They put off mom's operation until the following day.  

Well, there was an opportunity if I ever saw one.  I thanked God that I had learned Microsoft's Flight Simulator with this very type of plane.  We weren't going to ask the other guests on the island if they wanted to join us, either.  No, I grabbed my mom, scuttled silently to the plane in the dark, and got in.  Using the little penlight of my mom's I had to get the systems up.  

Soon enough, we were cranking the motor.  Just then, the door on the main house opened and the visitors came pouring out towards the plane.  I heard the 'ZING!' as a 9mm. bullet from that Luger whizzed by.   I throttled up, but we weren't moving!

Damn!  The wheel chocks.  I swear that I got out and back in 30 seconds and we were trundling down the grassy 'runway'.  In the shakiest takeoff seen since the Nazis rescued Mussolini from a mountain prison, we were up and airborne.  

The rest was anti-climactic.  'Good morning, America' and 'Today' had us on to tell our story, which we cleaned up for family viewing.  My mother was furious when we went on Fox News and I spent all my time staring at the Fox info-babe's incredible legs.  Oh well, some things never change.

We were minor celebrities, which was a mixed blessing.  Mom's pregnancy could be blamed upon what those cruel overseers did to her (well, it WAS our cover story and we were sticking to it.)   Fortunately for our cover story, we weren't 'that famous' months later when the babies arrived making clear that they were not the work of our captors.

 We were hired by a tiny Manhattan publisher to put out a quick book, using one of the better ghost writers in the biz.  Our e-book was even better--an hour's reading on Kindle.  We also put the story out on Literotica.com.

Very slowly and quietly we slipped away from the maddening crowd.  My mom had gotten her maiden name back during the divorce and disappeared into the empty reaches of the west under her 'new' name.  Equally subtly, I left the semi-bright lights of minor celebrity and disappeared too.  Oddly, I ended up with my mom in a state I won't mention.  

We'd 'fallen off the earth'.  When one of those infotainment e-zines caught up to us years later, they had no idea we were now officially man and wife (per that state).  When they asked about our seven children, we just said they had been adopted.  Our final cover story and they bought it: sweet...



Field Maneuvers



Outside the tent: a heavy susurration of sound. Metallic groans replete with squeaks and clanks. The ground throbs. 

Inside the tent: a nylon floor covered with forest detritus. Ammo tins heavy with unspent rounds near the flap. A sleeping bag rolled up tight as a gymnast. Another sleeping bag, unrolled ... with a man named Ray in his boxers sprawled on top. 

He's a sergeant. His fatigues are crumpled in the corner, but the bright yellow Seventh Cav patch gleams in the dark. His black hair is streaked by gray -- the effect is of stars newly appeared in the night sky. It's plastered to his skull from sweat. Ray's looking down past his erection, towards his mud-streaked boots laying discarded by the flap. 

A big man, with a big erection. The thickness of the meat strains the fly to the point of ripping. The cock throbs in time with the tanks. The naked head steams with sweat. Pubic hairs leak through, snarling the base. 

Sweat trickles down his face as he stares at it. 

This is Man: broad shoulders, hard pectorals, nipples nearly invisible behind the black C's of wet hair, biceps like cantaloupes. A smell -- potent, energetic -- wafts from armpits. A hard tower jutting proud. 

But Ray's not jacking it. He holds it motionless in his hand. Fascinated. His cock rears up. Big balls shift under the yellow-stained cotton boxers. He touches the naked cockhead with a finger from his free hand, a scientist examining a glowing gram of radium. A gold band encircles that finger. 

He lets it go and it smacks into his belly. Ray gets up on an elbow. His eyes shift back and forth. Hulking M-1 Abrams still rumble outside, but with sharp ears he hears twigs cracking under boots. 

He tugs on the boxers, stretching a week's worth of piss stains. He shoves his hardon back inside the boxers. 

Now his groin bulges massively, but he's acceptably civilized. For a horny man. 

"Master Sergeant, I -- " The voice, from outside, squeaks like a startled rat. 

"Shut the fuck up, Jackson, and get it done!" The voice sounds clearly over the tanks' reverberation. 

Ray grins. 

The tent flap opens. A man comes in -- body big as Ray's. He's tagged MADSEN and his stripes proclaim him a master sergeant. A man happy to be prime stud meat. A clipped mustache clings to his lips. Stubble descends down his neck, merges into the curls of hair under his tee-shirt. 

"Trouble, buddy?" Ray asks. 

Madsen starts unrolling his own sleeping bag. "Fuck! That goddamned idiot Jackson. Stupid as a goddamned jarhead." He flings himself back on the bag, kicks off his own boots and socks, starts to peel off his fatigues. "Got a friggin' jeep stuck in the mud up on the fucking mountain and he wants to fuckin' sleep before he gets his sorry fuckin' ass up to fuckin' get it!" 

"His dad was a marine." Ray laughs. 

Madsen kneels down, undoing the laces on his boots then pulling them off. Sweat-wet socks follow. "And his goddamned mother too." 

Ray's eyes glitter like moonlight on a dark sea. 

Madsen reaches up, unfastens his fatigue shirt, pulls it off. He "Yeah, me too. Kept popping boners right and left. Hell, I about broke my dick off in one of those." He nods towards Madsen's swollen jock. "That's why I wear boxers." He snaps the elastic against his stomach. 

"You gotta learn how to pack it in, Ray," says Madsen. "You gotta get your balls situated first. Then you tuck your dick in." Madsen demonstrates, pulling down the waistband so that his equipment shows. Long cock, foreskin hanging loose over the head by several inches, balls shifting nervously in the big sac. 

Ray's eyes don't even widen. He sees such monsters every day in the barracks. Or swinging between his own thighs. Ray always shows crotch. His meat never really shrinks. >From time to time it just looses the rigid, unyielding urge, but it never really shrinks. 

Madsen finishes tapping his gonads into his jock. He's done it with the ease of someone putting fine tobacco in a pipe. 

Ray says, "Let me try that." 

Madsen looks over. "You got a strap?" 

"Naw." 

Madsen shrugs, arches his back. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband, yanks them down. Cock and balls flap and shift again; the smell of cockcheese is pungent. He flips the strap over to Ray. "Try it with mine." 

Ray grabs the jock. He holds it up by an elastic ass-strap. Dark hairs line the pouch so thickly that it looks like Madsen's shedding for the summer. 

Ray slips it on, adjusting it in an easy mimicry of Madsen's routine. He shifts his meat around, coiling it to fit it inside. Now he really shows crotch -- his babymaker's enormous -- the pouch actually frays and his balls spill out on either side. 

"Damn, Ray, you do have problems." 

Ray laughs. He yanks the jock off and tosses it back. Cock flails like a striking rattlesnake. "Hell, when I played center, those 'straps made me show so much crotch our quarterback didn't know which ball he should grab." 

Madsen tosses the jock down to the other end of the tent. It was too hot to be wearing anything. He grabs his meat, stretching and pulling on it. The drying sweat makes him itch, and the motion gives him some relief. "I can believe it, Ray. You were looking pretty big in my jock." He winks. "I bet Karen likes it." 

"You know it, buddy." His hands remain on his prick, adjusting it, cooling the flesh. He grabs it by the base, swings it through the air like a lasso. 

"You get it often?" Madsen's eyes cloud over. 

"You bet." 

"I wish I still did." 

"I thought that's your problem, buddy. Dipping it into too many places." Ray pauses. "You said Beth caught you." 

"Yeah." Idly he gives his prick a stroke. He feels blood gush into it, feels the meat stir and roll across his belly. "Yeah, she did. And now I'm fucking paying for it." 

"Who was it with?" 

"Her kid brother." 

"Her brother?" Ray leans up on his elbow, looking down at the hairy man next to him, the man who's fisting a growing prong. 

"Yeah. I can't believe I did it. But he just kept beggin' me. He used to watch me and Beth do it. He knew how big this guy got." That guy was now pretty firm between Madsen's curled fingers, and coming up into Ray's range. 

"Couldn't resist?" 

"Nah, he couldn't." 

"I mean you." 

"Fuck no. Hot ass on that guy." 

"So Beth walked in -- " 

"We were doing it on his bed. He was bent over and I was fuckin' like a stud stallion." Madsen's prick snaps into erection, a tower of stone rising out of a forest of hairs. Hair climbs halfway up the shaft. The foreskin's so long that an inch or so dangled at the end like a nipple. 

Ray's stiffens too. The heat, the smell. He always had a hard time dealing with male smells. Maybe had something to do with why number 22, his quarterback, liked his package so much. "Was it good?" 

"Fuck yeah, Ray. I mean, I felt more like a man pluggin' him than any time with Beth. And she used to turn my back to hamburger from her nails." He pauses, remembering. "Man, I feel like a kid at camp." 

"No shit." Ray's boner now rears out of the fur in his groin. Already his pisslips cup a droplet of dew. He lets his cock go; it slaps against his belly. 

"I get you hot, Ray?" Madsen asks. His fingers slowly massage his cock. He foreskin moves but the sphincter at the end doesn't wink because there's so much slack in the skin. 

"Yeah." 

"Talkin' about me and Beth's brother?" 

"Yeah." Ray pauses. "Never been with a guy." 

"Not even as a kid?" 

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't count. Not been with a man." He watches Madsen playing with himself. And he responds -- his hands go back onto himself, his hard stinking hairy flesh that juts so far away from his groin. His juices are rich -- he's the type of man who goes and jacks off in the bathroom after he's just shot a huge wad into his wife because he's still horny. 

"But at least you get off, Ray," Madsen touches his balls, winces. "These things're so fucking loaded with cum. And a week out here -- hell, I ain't even jacked off." 

"Me neither, buddy." In a dry throat: "You wanna?" 

"Fuck yeah." Equally dry. 

"Let's pound 'em." 

Two sets of hands start motions at the same time, up and down shafts sticky with dried sweat. Ray stops after two strokes, hawks up a huge wad of spit into his palm. 

"Should've brought Vaseline, Ray." 

"Hey, buddy, not all of us got the extra skin you got." 

Madsen laughs. "Makes it easier." 

Wet sounds come from Ray's crotch as his motions get vigorous as Madsen's. Ray's eyes roll up and a shudder goes through him. "Man, you got me hot." 

"Why?" 

"'Cause there's some guys in my platoon I'd like to make into my kid brother." 

"Really?" Madsen feels a fire erupt in his balls. He feels on the verge of spurting. 

"Benson," Ray says, a simple word meaning blond-furred muscles and a cock-begging ass. 

"Yeah. I wouldn't mind him. Make sure Karen doesn't find out. Else you'll end up like me." He cups his testicles. "Swollen balls. Only you won't have this extra skin to make draining them fun." Madsen stuck a finger up the skin and swirled it on the cockhead, now swimming with juices. 

"Hey, buddy," Ray says. "What's it like having that skin?" 

Madsen looks down. "I dunno. I guess -- " he stops, grins. "I'll show you." 

"What?" 

"Roll on your side, Ray. Face me." 

The first sergeant rolls. His prick arcs over the space between sleeping bags. Madsen rolls over to face Ray. His hand -- thick, callused, knuckles knotted with hair -- went around the beer-bottle fat prick. 

"Buddy ... " Ray croons, his eyes slitted, balls tight to hairy groin. 

"Hold off a sec, Ray. Don't shoot it." 

Ray's stroking motions slow; the throb in his balls fades away. Madsen's eyes stare at the sergeant's rigid prong. Two fingers slip inside his foreskin, spreading it open like an asshole being warmly prepared. Cheese smears his fingertips. He pulls the fingers out, sniffs them, the smell causing his prostate to spasm and ooze a flood of precum. 

"Smell," he says, and touches Ray's upper lip with his finger. 

Ray inhales. His eyes close and a smile curls at his lips, remembering younger days. "Buddy ..." 

"Yeah," Madsen says. "This is one thing you're missing." He bounces his hips once, moving a little closer to Ray. His cheese-soaked fingers seek the warmth under his foreskin again. 

Ray moans, "You're making me so hot, buddy." 

"Yeah. Don't pull it so much. I don't want you to shoot yet." 

Ray stops his motions, cock pulsing. But he doesn't let go of his prick. 

Madsen spreads his foreskin open. It yawns open like a mouth. Gleaming ropes of precum tie together the rose- colored flesh like a messy knot tied by a boy. He pulls his skin towards Ray, extending it. His fat cockhead sits at the base of it, a boulder blocking the entrance to a cave. The lips of the skin make a circle of hot flesh an inch from Ray's oozing cockhead. 

Madsen looks into Ray's eyes. "Put it in." 

"In?" 

"Yeah. Like it's Karen's pussy." 

A spasm passes through Ray, his eyes clench shut, his fingertips press hard against the fat tube on the underside of his prick. His throat closes tight, blocking the slow growl he's in danger of uttering. When it passes he looks at Madsen, who's staring at him with a big grin on his face. 

Madsen says, "You just barely held onto it, Ray." 

"Fuck, buddy, I'm hot." 

"Put it in." He opens his foreskin wide. It beckons like a whore's throat begging for dick. 

Ray moves forward an inch. Something hot touches his pisslips: Madsen's own drooling pisslips. Madsen lets go with his fingers. The foreskin closes over Ray's cockhead. 

"Docking completed," Madsen says, grinning. His fist closes around the bulging juncture where their dicks are joined. Then he jacks them. 

"Fuck!" Ray says. He convulses with the first motion. "Shit!" The second motion makes him put a hand on Madsen's hard hip, to steady him. He sees Madsen's mouth so close to his and he can't resist. His tongue slides into his buddy and again Madsen's hot flesh surrounds his own. 

Madsen takes his free hand and runs it over Ray's chest. The hairs there are sweaty again. From beneath Ray's armpits comes a heady odor. He touches his buddy, moves his fingers over Ray's body, feeling the hard nipples. 

"I can't -- " Ray chokes it off and explodes under Madsen's foreskin. It's massive. His balls contract like a sun collapsing under its own gravity; a hot gout of jism squirts against Madsen's cockhead. There's no space under that foreskin -- it's all taken up with hard cock -- so the jism backflushes and blasts down the length of Ray's prong. 

And Madsen, who hasn't had any in so long, outlasts Ray only by a half second. The hot gravy flooding his foreskin causes his own orgasm. While Ray still shoots a stream of hot silver gushes from his own gaping pisshole. They meet under the foreskin hood. It's like two boys dueling with water hoses. The sperm explodes into a shower of hot liquid, which blasts out of their groin and coats hairy chests and legs. 

When the cocks finish -- and they both shot about eight or ten jets apiece, so it takes awhile -- they're exhausted and roll away from each other. Ray's cock slips out with a slurp. They clasp hands and lay in the tent, chests heaving, their gasps audible even over the endless rumble of tanks on maneuvers. 

"How was it, Ray?" 

"Pretty damn good, buddy" Ray said. "I like this foreskin thing. Good thing I left my boys uncut." 

"Both of 'em?" 

"Yeah," says Ray. "Both." 



Field Maneuvers



In the summer of 1993 I was a 1st lieutenant in the army engineers. My unit was on a training exercise in a god-forsaken piece of the high desert. We were going to be out there for two weeks, working by ourselves and in conjunction with other units. Pure field exercise, there wasn't anything around this place for miles. Any entertainment we were going to get would to have to be provided by ourselves.

The first day in we set up our camp and went through all of the usual briefings and discussions. That day is always a pain. It wasn't until 11 that night that everything was settled in and I was finally free of the captain and the xo. Luckily I knew my NCOs would make sure everything was squared away for me. I headed back to my platoon's area to check on things.

My men were relaxing and sitting around shooting the shit. I made a quick glance over, just to be sure that everything looked good. As I'd guessed there wasn't any reason to worry. I stopped and asked a few questions, said hello, all those little things they teach you about interacting with your men. I liked my platoon and got along well the guys. I'm pretty sure they liked me as well. 

I made my way over to the tent we used as the platoon command. As I entered my platoon sergeant Jim Henderson started to stand. I cut him off with a quick "as you were." and took a chair myself. Jim was a total professional and one of the best soldiers I've ever served with. He'd done a great deal to get me up to speed after I was assigned the platoon and I really admired him. He was in early thirties then, tall, athletic and with a steady command presence. We all figured he was sure in as the next first sergeant for the company.

I set down the next day's operation orders on the table between us. He picked it up and gave it a quick once over. 

Then he looked over at me and with a bit of a resigned look said "Well Sir, I figure we should probable take a drive over and check out the site for that tank ditch we have to dig."

I smiled and responded "Yes, better check it out now, it's going to be a bitch to get it ready in the time the CO gave us."

I heard a groan from PFC Kerr, my driver. He started to roll off the cot he'd clearly just recently stretched on.

"Stay where you are Kerr." Sgt Henderson said, "We can drive ourselves."

Kerr thanked him and rolled back over. Jim grabbed his gear and rifle and headed out the tent to our humvee. He hoped in the driver seat and started her up. I climbed in and we headed out.

He looked over at me and smiled "Figured you'd want this to be a private recon Lt."

"Yes, that sounds good to me"

We drove out a couple of miles into the desert, reaching the small gap in the ridgeline where the exercise would be taking place. We parked our vehicle and walked out a ways. There was nothing and no one around at all. Perfect place really.

I turned around to see Jim tossing a blanket onto the ground behind a small group of scrub bushes. "This looks good to me Sir." He said with a laugh.

I walked back over to him, watching him in the moonlight. His close cut brown hair and dark eyes were clear in the bright silver light. It made his skin just glow. As I approached he was pulling off his top, revealing his t-shirt tight over his chest.

He slipped his arms around my waist as soon as I got near him. He pulled me close his mouth quickly pressed to my lips. He kissed me hard, his tongue dancing over mine. I felt his hands move down my back grabbing the cheeks of my ass. I loved how his hard body felt pressed into mine.

He broke the kiss and started to undo his pants. I wasted no time dropping to my knees in front of him. I reached into his fly pulling his underwear aside. My fingers made contact with his quickly stiffening cock. I felt its warmth and the spongy yet firm feel of the shaft.

I heard him laugh and then he said "I love these field exercises, don't you Sir?"

I responded by pulling his cock free of his clothes. I could smell his skin, the fragrance of his sweat. It wasn't bad, just a nice manly order; the smell of a healthy guy who's had a busy day.

I parted my lips and took his head in my mouth. I sucked on it for a moment, letting my tongue circle the crown. I knew how much he loved it when I teased the sensitive skin there. I kept it up as I felt him start to squirm, I knew it was getting too intense for him, But I didn't stop.

Then, as he always did at this point, he took hold of my head. His strong fingers held me in place and he shoved his hips forward, driving his cock into my mouth. Jim had a nice solid nine inches that was just the right size for me, big enough to really fill me, not so large that I couldn't handle it as he pushed it into my throat. He held me there for a moment, letting me relax and get used to his meat. I started to swallow, letting my throat milk his length.

He began to thrust his hips back and forth, fucking my face. My nose and lips were pressed to his wiry pubic hair; I could feel his balls against my chin. Then he would pull back, dragging his head over my tongue and back to my lips. He'd give me just a second to breather and then another push would come. He kept that rhythm up for several minutes.

He let go of my face and pulled back. He quickly stripped out of his pants and stood above me naked. In the moonlight he looked like a Greek statue come to life, all hard rounded muscles in under white skin. The only difference was that he was hard and hung in a way those statues never were. At a word form him I quickly got out of my uniform as well. While I wasn't nearly as chiseled as my gorgeous platoon sergeant, I was in good shape at the time. My more compact form and heavier body hair made a nice contrast to the man above me. He smiled, letting me know how much he liked my looks.

I began to kiss his thighs working my way towards his sack. As soon as I reached them I began to bathe them with my tongue, glorying in what they tasted, the mix of sweat and his skin had me so hot. Once his sack had relaxed I began to gently suck each one his testicles, taking them into my mouth in turn. I could hear him moan in appreciation of the attention. I let my hands move up the back of his legs, feeling the hardness of his thighs. I reached up and stroked his ass, rubbing the tight cheeks.

I moved back to his cock, running my tongue along his shaft, licking it up and down. I took him back in my mouth, this time controlling the movements myself. I bobbed up and down on his, sucking for all I was worth. I could feel him start to tense up and knew I was soon to be rewarded with a nice load. There have been few guys who's cum I loved better than Jim's, it was always rich and I adored the taste.

Jim had other ideas though. He pulled back. I let out a sigh of disappointment which just made him chuckle. He turned around before me leaning forward. I immediately took hold of his ass cheeks, pulling the firm globes apart. I shoved my face between them, taking in the smell of his sweat. My tongue flicked out, making a fast circuit between his balls and his hole. Jim moaned and pushed back to meet me. I stuck my tongue out pressing it broad and flat over his asshole. I moved it around and around, letting the buds tease his sensitive skin. I lapped between his cheeks like a dog at a water bowl. I could tell how much he enjoyed it.

"Tongue me out good LT, lick my ass." He kept chanting over and over.

I obliged him by pressing my tongue into a narrow dart, stabbing at the puckered ring. I let my fingertips rub and work the hole, teasing him into relaxing. At the first instant his ring gave a bit I wriggled my tongue in him. His sphincter was like a pair of pliers on my tongue, squeezing and clamping. I moved as much as I could, thrilling those sensitive nerves. I had discovered Jim was a total top and never let anyone fuck him, but he loved getting rimmed. His still technically virgin hole did its best to resist my tongues intrusion, but the waves of pleasure it was bringing him coaxed him open. 

I licked and kissed his ass for what seemed like ages, all the while stroking his cock and cupping his balls. I could feel his precum on my fingers and knew I again had him at the verge. I wanted to just finish him off then, but I knew he'd want my ass tonight. I pulled back from him and lay down on the blanket.

He climbed right on top of me, his strong form pressing me down. We kissed even more fiercely than before and I moved under him as best I could, letting our bodies rub together, sliding on the sheen of our sweat.

Jim reached down between us, his fingers slid over my cock; he took hold of both of us in his hand. As we continued to make out his had jacked both of our cocks together, squeezing our shafts side by side. I felt him run his fingertip over both our heads, gathering up the dripping precum. I spread my legs beneath him.

He moved his mouth to my nipples, biting and sucking them. I shivered from the feeling. He worked them over good as he reached down between my thighs. I felt his finger, wet from both of us, pressing against my hole. He wasted no time, soon forcing it past my ring, turning and twisting his digit inside me. He soon had a second in beside it, spreading me for what was about to happen. I smiled to myself, feeling like nothing so much as a prom date getting fingered in the back of her limo. Jim always brought out the bottom in me; I loved being a sissy for this incredible stud.

I lifted my head up to kiss his ear and then said, "fuck my ass lover."

Jim rolled off me and lay on his back. His cock stood throbbing at attention. I need no encouragement. I rapidly straddled him, facing away from his head, my ass hole poised right above his cock.

I felt that mushroom touch my sphincter. With a slow but determined movement I began to push down. For a moment my hole resisted the intrusion, then it gave way, the ring opening up and his warm head slid inside. I hovered there, letting myself adjust to the size of him. As soon as I felt ready I let my legs relax and he was soon buried balls deep in my ass. Beneath me he groaned, then reached out and took hold of my sides. He began to assist me in moving up and down on him. My ass played his cock like flute; I flexed my sphincter at different points on his shaft. I loved the way it rippled as he moved in my, his cock so firm inside my guts.

I really got into a good rhythm, riding him quickly, feeling him plunging in and out of my ass. I tossed my head up and looked up at the sky. It was crowded with starts, far from any city lights. There was something so wonderful about being fucked in this pristine place. I started to shift my hips from side to side, and slowed down my movements, savoring each and every inch he was feeding me. I moaned out loud as his cock brushed over my prostrate. I thrilled in the feel of his strong hands on my body.

After a bit he pushed me off him. I moved to all fours and he kneeled behind me. His cock soon found its mark and he filled the void its leaving had left in me. Now he was controlling the speed and tempo. Jim's legs drove him into me with all the force his great muscles could provide. He fucked me with abandon, his cock slamming into me with no thought for how I felt. He soon had my face pressed down to the blanket, my arms out stretched beside me. I felt his teeth on my neck, the chiseled muscles of his stomach pressing into my back; but most of all I felt that rock hard cock of his hammering me. With every in stroke it was like a spear tearing into me, with every pull back I thought he'd yank out my insides as well. I was in heaven.

He began to whisper in my ear, things like "you love your daddy's cock don't you?" and "there, take it all. Feel me in you." I always got so hot when he started that; I loved feeling like a whore for him.

Every push was like a firecracker going of inside me. His cock was just battering my insides. My own cock was throbbing in time to his thrusts. I could feel it slapping against my own stomach, leaving a wet spot in the hair of my belly as my own precum splayed me. His balls brushed mine every time he bottomed out in me. My breath had become ragged and short. I couldn't think of a time I'd been fucked so hard. His body slid across mine, making every inch of my skin aware of his power and manliness. 

His fist closed around my cock, gripping me tightly. He just held it in place, letting the rocking of my body under his thrusts slide me between his fingers. He squeezed tight, better than any ass or pussy ever could. My shaft was twitching like crazy in his grip. It took me just seconds to blow my wad, the combination of sensations was simply too much. I felt my cum squirt from me splashing against my stomach and the blanket.

He let loose of my cock and grabbed me by the shoulders. he pulled me back as he drove in. If I'd thought I was being fucked hard before it was nothing compared to this. It was like he wanted to shove his entire hips in after his cock. My ass was being pounded without mercy. I knew there was no way he'd last much longer.

I began to cry out; to beg him. "Breed me! Fill me! Cum in me daddy." I shouted out over the sounds of his grunts and his body smacking into my upraised ass.

I felt him tense up again and with one last lunge he started to spray his hot sperm inside me. I felt wave after wave of it leave his cock to fill my insides. I smiled imagining how I would be feeling it in me all night long.

With a last grunt Jim pulled out of me. I felt that terrible emptiness as the cock that so completely controlled me left. He reached out and rolled me onto my back. I parted my lips for him and responded by bring his cock to my mouth. I gobbled him sucking and licking every drop from his slowly shrinking organ. When I finished he gave me another deep kiss, and used the blanket to clean me up.

We lay there for a moment, just relaxing in the bliss of our mutual orgasms. Then Jim reluctantly stood up and began to dress. I quickly joined him, tossing the blanket into a garbage bag into he back of our vehicle. we kissed one more time and began to drive back to the camp.

He looked over at me and spoke "0500 comes around pretty damn early Sir. You gonna be rested enough for morning training?"

I laughed. "I can miss some sack time for your kind of training anytime sergeant."

He put his hand on my leg and said, "Well we've got 12 more days and wake up to practice."

We drove back in silence, my tired mind already turning to what we could do the next night to get away for a while.