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The Colonel

By: Coxswain



This is a true story. Only the names have been changed. Many years ago, I was a lieutenant colonel in the US Army, commander of a Special Forces battalion, a married man of 50. We had a son, my military career was on track, and I was due to retire in a short time. The USA was then at peace, the military did only training, and discipline problems were few. Problems with sexuality in the battalion usually had to do with men in the base hospital for treatment of a venereal disease or spats between husbands and wives. Homosexuality in the '70s was a growing problem in the military, and in those cases where "don't ask, don't tell" didn't work, occasionally we had to take more serious measures. But I sat on very few courts martial for homosexuality. I couldn't figure it out. Why would a man do that? I was completely straight. I had no physical interest in men. 

But one day my whole life made an About-Face, and now I can hardly remember when I didn't have a wet spot in the front of my underwear and the taste of sperm in my mouth.

A sergeant and a corporal had been caught in flagrante delicto in oral sex with each other, and that was a court martial offense. But since both were good soldiers (otherwise), I chose to offer them what the Army calls "administrative punishment." Instead of going through a court martial and being kicked out of the Army, they would sit in a court over which only I would preside, and I would decide what punishment(s) they would receive.

On the day of the court, the sergeant and the corporal marched into my office and stood at Attention. Big guys, I thought, rough customers in a fight. Both were over six feet tall. Both weighed over 200 pounds. The sergeant was a little bigger, but both were top physical specimens, as most Green Berets are. I gave them At Ease and told them to sit down.

The orderly gave me the folder of information on the case and left the room. The only other person there with us was my clerk, taking notes on the proceedings as a witness. I opened the folder and was stunned. On top of the typed papers describing the situation and the offense were several photographs, the one on top showing the sergeant lying on a couch, completely nude, a big, heavily muscled stud stroking his big, fat cock—it must have been nine inches long!

I had seen plenty of naked men before, as we all have, especially in the military. I had seen men in the showers in the gym, in the showers in the barracks, and I had seen naked cocks in pornos, and so on, and I NEVER found myself interested in naked men. As I looked at that big sergeant with his very big cock, I didn't get upset. But the rest of the photos raised the ante. I couldn't pry my eyes away. Damn, look at that! They had pictures of the big corporal sucking on the sergeant's huge hardon, and I gazed dumbfounded at how his mouth stretched wide in a huge 'O' around the giant dong. 

Sonofabitch! I got that strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, and my cock got hard. Dammit, man, get a grip on yourself! I pushed the pictures aside and read through the typed documents, absent-mindedly rubbing my cock through my fatigue pants under my desk. I have no idea why that situation turned me on. Maybe because these were men I knew, men in my battalion, but I definitely had that butterflies-in-the-stomach, almost nervous feeling in a way I never had before. "All right, Corporal Tams, why don't you tell me just how this happened." I cursed myself that my voice cracked as I spoke. 

"Well, sir," the corporal began, "I don't know what to say. One particular day I saw Sergeant Niely in the shower. He was shampooing his hair and had the soap all over his face, and—I don't know, I saw that big cock of his, and I just, you know—I don't know how to say this—I just couldn't look away." As he spoke, though, the corporal's face took on a strange, haunted expression, and gradually he started speaking more easily. "I knew Sergeant Niely was straight, and I knew that if I did anything, my time in the Army would be over."

He took a deep breath, and the sergeant shifted nervously in his chair. "But then he turned around, facing me," the corporal said, "and the soap finally ran out of his face. He looked into my eyes, and I froze. We both did. It was only for a moment or two, but it felt like a goddamned eternity. And that big dong of his started to rise." The corporal gulped. "It rose up into a big, fuckin' cobra, a hooded monster with that big, black, cruel eye..." 

By then I had a steel-hard dick jabbing painfully against the bottom of my desk. What in hell is the matter with you, man? These are queers! What the fuck are you doing with a hardon?? "All right, corporal, that's enough," I barked, surprised at how husky my voice had become. "What's your story, sergeant?"

The big sergeant looked up at me. "God, I don't know, sir. I don't know what came over me. We were alone in the showers. I don't know, when I saw the hunger in his eyes, it turned me on. I stood there looking at him until he reached down and took my dick in his hand. And then I don't know what came over us, but all of a sudden, we just sort of lunged at each other. I swear, sir, never in my life had I kissed a man." He paused for a long time, and when he spoke, his voice was very low. "But, sir—oh, God—I gotta admit it. I never enjoyed a kiss as much as that one." He paused again. "Next thing I knew, he was on his knees, and when I felt his mouth around my cock—I don't know—I lost all control." Another pause. "I admit it: I came right away in that man's mouth, and—" He took a deep breath. "It was like I swallowed a hand grenade." His eyes looked off into the distance. "God. I blew up like a cum-bomb." His voice dropped off to a whisper. "I never had that strong a feeling from any woman."

By then I realized I wasn't dealing with two repentant men, and the incident was obviously going to be repeated. If these guys were trying to convince me this breach of regulations would never happen again, they were doing a bad fucking job. 

Worse, I was so hot that I could feel pre-cum almost spurting out of my cock. Even more embarrassing, I was afraid that when I stood up, I would have a wet spot on the front of my fatigues. "That's enough, sergeant. I think I've got the idea." I looked down at the pictures again. Damn, look at that guy's cock. And look at the corporal sucking it. It dawned on me that the pictures, taken by who knows what photographer, were not in the barracks—these guys had carried on their homosexual liaison after the first incident in the barracks showers. God, what did he feel? What would it be like? Look at the tip of that cockhead. What would it be like to put my mouth up to that thing and suck out that pre-cum? What does it feel like to kiss a man in the showers? 

Stop it, man, stop this right now!! I snapped back to reality, cleared my throat, and made my decision. "You men are guilty of homosexual acts, which are against the Code of Military Conduct. Both of you have good Army records, though, so instead of dismissal from the Service, I specify that you, Sergeant Niely, be reduced in rank to the rank of corporal. You, Corporal Tams, will be transferred to another unit. The association of the two of you will stop at this point. And I order you both to cease this illicit activity with any other member of the military!"

Both men stood up and came to Attention. With no other alternative, I rose from my desk, and sure enough, I had a rock-hard erection that bulged out the front of my pants. I bit my lip. There was nothing I could do. I noticed both men flick a quick glance at my crotch, and I swear I saw a tiny smile on both faces. "Dismissed!" I snapped. They saluted, turned, and marched out of the office. I glanced down. Goddamn, the front of my pants was wet.

When the clerk left with the paperwork, I found myself breathing harder. Damn, what an experience! And I was horny, damn, I was horny, my dick still as hard as a grenade-launcher barrel. My office door was closed. No one would see in the windows—they were too high above the level of the street outside. I reached down to my fly. Yep, wet. And when I reached into my boxers to grasp my throbbing dong, my hand got slimy from the load of pre-cum smeared everywhere.

I looked around, then—yeah! I jacked off as I sat at my desk, so fucking horny, I needed only about a dozen strokes before ka-POW! I shot two big wads the size of marbles up into the air. One splattered down onto my desk. And I'll be a sonofabitch if the other didn't hit me in the face! Cum on my face! Ohmigod, how low have I sunk? But I was still horny enough to reach up, wipe the stuff from my nose and cheek—and suck it from my fingers. My own cum. Salty. Tastes like the smell of Clorox. And a bomb went off in my head—I like it!

I felt like a pile of shit. Goddamn, what's come over me?? Get a grip on yourself, man! I straightened myself up, cleaned off my desk, and left the battalion headquarters for the day. I drove back to my quarters, deep in thought. By the time I pulled up to the white-painted house provided to officers with families, I had myself under control. The situation was over. 

Nobody was home. My wife was out doing shopping, and my son was who knows where. Even though I had talked myself down from the experience in my headquarters, I decided that I needed a good run, something to sweat the horniness out and clear my mind. I changed into a pair of grey sweatpants, a blue sweatshirt, and my running shoes. I run most days. Special Forces troopers have to stay in shape. Near the housing area is the beginning of a jogging trail the soldiers use for cross-country runs. 

A few yards down the trail is a small latrine (to keep the soldiers from pissing in the bushes), and I went in to relieve myself in one of the urinals. When I finished, I couldn't stop thinking of the delicious jackoff session in my office. I continued to stroke my cock as I thought about that ex-sergeant's big dong. Another man stepped up beside me to piss in the next urinal. I didn't want to, but I glanced over. 

Damn! A fine cock, long and thick, with a bulging purple head. Even bigger than Sergeant Niely's. And he caught me. "Like what you see?" he said in a low voice.

I blushed, my face red-hot. "Naw," I grunted, turning away. I was pissed. I should arrest the fucker for conduct unbecoming a soldier—but I was the one caught staring at another man's cock. I stared down at my own, wondering how in hell I was going to get out of there without showing that I had a hardon. I'll be lucky if I'm not the one charged with unbecoming acts in an Army latrine!

Then I felt a hand on my cock and warm breath on my right ear. I was stunned, caught, as the saying goes, with my pants down. "What the fu—" But the fingers gripped me firmly, and the thumb rubbed up and down under my cockhead. I should have shoved back and slugged the guy, the fucking queer, but I gasped as my cock instantly turned into a steel pipe, and as he ground his crotch into my ass—I felt weak. Like a fast-forwarding tape, the experience of the two homosexuals in my office screamed through my head. Strange butterflies danced in my gut again, that feeling that something important was about to happen. 

I turned around to see who was groping me, and as I did, he let go. The guy was wearing the Army Physical Training uniform—white tee shirt and black boxer shorts—so he was a soldier, not a civilian employee or some serviceman's kid. He was built like a football player, trim waist, flat stomach, and well-defined chest, all well outlined in his tight shirt. He stood about six foot three and had the bluest eyes I'd ever seen. 

I blinked. The guy was handsome, to say nothing of being built like a brick shithouse. I glanced down. Jesus fucking Christ! Okay, my own dick was out in the open air and standing-up hard, but the GI had his own cock in his hand, and from his stroking, the thing had grown much bigger than the hefty pecker I had seen when he first started pissing. Damn, the fucking thing is huge! Twice as big as Niely's!

The guy's blue eyes burned into me. "Go on," he said in a low, deep, masculine voice. "Take hold of it. You know you want to."

The arrogant motherfucker! I'm a goddamned lieutenant colonel! But in that latrine I was just a gray-haired man in a sweatsuit. And he had me to rights: I did want to touch it. I couldn't believe it was so big. No, goddamn it, stop! Don't! No!! But my body betrayed me. I reached over and grasped it. It was darker than his body, long and thick, with angry veins along its length. It seared my hand like I had grabbed a red-hot bar. Don't do anything more! Get out of here! RUN out!!—but I began to stroke it, marveling that it grew even bigger and harder until my mouth fell open in awe—Jesus, I can't close my fingers around it. God, what a cock! 

As I gazed down at the magnificent club, the guy's face moved closer. When I looked up, he astonished me by kissing me on the mouth! No! Agh! I'm not kissing a MAN!! But then, what the hell—you're jacking his cock. And rather than yank my head back, I returned the kiss. When his tongue thrust into my mouth, my own fought and dueled with it. I sighed. You bastard! Don't let yourself LIKE this!! 

But I did. I was turned on like a lap dancer was squirming on my crotch. I stood kissing the man for a long, long time—I don't know how long, but I got drunker as the moments ticked by. When we finally broke, those piercing blue eyes bored into me, "Go on, suck it. You know you want to."

What?? Now just a goddamned minute! No way am I going to suck a man's cock! But against my will, my body took over. I sank to my knees, bringing my face close to his crotch and that huge, glorious dong. I grasped it and pulled it down to my mouth. Don't!! Goddamn it, if you do, you will forever be a cocksucker! I tried to resist. I really did. Instead of mouthing it, I swirled my tongue around the head. But it wasn't enough. I dragged my tongue, writing a wet line along the underside and down its length to his balls. "Oh, yeah," he moaned, "Work it, Bitch. Suck that dick."

Bitch?? No fucking way am I going to—but his hand on my head held me firm, and I gave in. I opened wide and took the commanding bulb into my mouth. Oh, God, I'm sucking a cock! I'm a cocksucker! I fought the overpowering feeling that I liked it. It was warm, no, hot in my mouth. I tasted the tangy pre-cum slathered around it, and it went to my head like whiskey. 

He began to rock his hips back and forth, pistoning his meat in and out of my face, and for as much as I hated what I was doing and wanted to get to my feet, I got used to the feeling and began to fondle his balls with my left hand. "Yeah, you want it don't you," he murmured. "You like the taste of dick, don't you?"

I didn't know what to say. For one thing, I had a dick in my mouth. My mind tried to rationalize me out of it: if I can get him off, he'll go on his way, and I can forget this ever happened. I stroked his shaft with my right hand and bobbed my head up and down on his cock, my tongue roughly working the underside on every downstroke. When I had a strong rhythm going, he began to moan, his hips picked up speed, his balls tightened up, and his thrusts became deeper and deeper. Finally he grabbed my head in both of his hands and fucked my throat mercilessly, each thrust deeper, choking me, shutting off my air. Finally, with a loud, primal grunt, he crushed my nose into his cockhairs, and his penis pulsed against my tongue while a warm, slimy fluid spurted down my throat.

I swallowed it. I gulped it down. I loved it. The Taste of Male. You dumb bastard, don't you DARE like that shit! If you ever get out of here, you are going to forget all about this!! YOU ARE AN ARMY OFFICER, NOT A COCKSUCKER!

When he was finished, he pulled his cock out and wiped it over my head, smearing the slime through my Army buzzcut. "Yeah," he grunted, "let's make you a little grayer." Then he pushed me away, and I sat back gasping for air. I felt used, humiliated, the taste of his cock in my mouth, and his sperm matting my hair. He looked down with a post-orgasmic smile, a big, masculine archangel. 

That could have ended it. Right then I could have left. He had his way with me, he was spent, and I could have gotten up and walked out. That's exactly what I'm going to do! I stood up. 

But I didn't take a step. I hesitated. 

And he saw that. He knew. And so did I: I liked what had happened. I wanted more. He stared at my cock standing tall at its full, hard eight inches, jutting out of my sweatpants under my gray cockhairs. NO!! He has NOT made me his bitch, goddamn it! But my cock was as hard as a diamond, and I knew different. My mind reeled. No, this is bullshit! I'm a goddamn officer! I'm 50 years old! I'm a fucking married man!! But it happened: he dropped his shorts and growled, "Drop your pants, Bitch."

"Don't call me 'Bitch,'" I growled, but I obeyed, loosening the waist-string of my sweatpants and dropping them to my ankles. 

TO BE CONTINUED...

The Colonel



This is my first submission to Literotica. It comes from a long standing dream I've had and an obsession with older men. Hope you like it!

***

The early morning sunlight was breaking through the curtains as Beth woke from a deep and relaxing sleep. It was her first morning in her new home and she couldn't have been happier. She was living the dream she'd held so long, the dream to live in a beautiful old cottage in a sleepy little village in the heart of England. 

The outside of the cottage was everything she wanted, a thatched roof, roses round the door, at least there will be come summer and a quaint little garden. Inside was just as good, beams on the ceiling, an aga in the kitchen. It really was country living like she'd imagined it. And the view from her bedroom window was just delightful, you could see for miles across open countryside. 

She pulled herself out of bed and once dressed made her way downstairs for some breakfast. Putting the kettle on it dawned on her that she'd forgotten to call in at a shop and get some milk and sugar. Cursing herself for her bad memory she wondered if this might be the best time to introduce herself to her neighbours. 

Knocking on the front door of the cottage next to hers she hoped she wasn't waking anyone, the last thing she needed was to annoy her neighbours on her first day there. Thankfully she heard footsteps soon after, followed by the handle being turned. The man who opened the door was a lot taller than herself, a lot older too. Yet despite this Beth couldn't take her eyes off him, he was possibly the most handsome older man she had ever met. 

He had to be at least six foot, square jaw, a fine head of silver hair and the most sensual deep blue eyes she had ever seen, although he had to be at least sixty. 

"May I help you, miss?" 

Beth realised that she'd been staring at him, and he was now looking at her as if she was deranged.

"Hi, sorry, I hope I didn't disturb you," she stammered, "I've just moved in next door and like an idiot I forgot to buy some milk or sugar for my tea. I wondered if you'd be so kind to let me have some of yours."

"Of course, come in a moment."

With that he stepped aside to let her in. As she brushed past him she could tell that despite his age he was still in good shape. The smell of his aftershave filled her nostrils and she could feel herself getting suddenly aroused by him. He was everything a man should be, he spoke well but not too posh and his manners were of a time from before she was even born, very old school. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you miss, there's been a lot of discussion as to who would be moving in ever since the sign came down."

She watched him as he moved about the kitchen. He looked divine, with big strong hands and muscular arms. She could picture him wrapping them around her and pulling her into him, planting a passionate kiss on her lips before whisking her up and carrying her to the bedroom. She shook her head to wake herself from her daydream as he turned to her and held out a bag of sugar and a small jug of milk.

"My name's William, and if you even need anything else you know where I am."

"Thank you, you're very kind. I can't function properly in a morning without a cuppa, so I'm very grateful to you. Oh, my name's Beth, sorry, should have said that first off!"

He smiled the most delicious smile and she could feel herself going all giddy inside. As he held the door open for her to leave she could feel her temperature rising and her breath quickening.

"Well thank you again" she managed to stumble as she made her retreat.

She shut her door behind her and leant back to catch her breath.

"Don't be stupid Beth. He's old enough to be your grandfather!" She told herself. And yet she couldn't shake the feeling that had swelled deep in the pit of her stomach. 

She had just poured her tea when there was a knock at the door. God, I hope that isn't him, she thought to herself. When she opened the door she was relieved to be looking at a small, stout woman wearing a velour tracksuit. 

"Vivian" she exclaimed, "I'm your neighbour to the left"

"Hello, I'm Beth, please come in, it's great to meet you."

"I see you've met the Colonel?"

"I'm sorry?" 

"On the other side, William, he was in the Army, moved here from London. He's a widower, his wife died about ten years back and I think he's come here for the peace and quiet."

"Oh dear, poor man" Beth suddenly felt a rush of guilt at the fact that she was secretly pleased he was single. 

"Yes, I think he's still coming to terms with it all. He's a decent chap too, do anything for anyone. Anyway I'll let you get your breakfast, just wanted to introduce myself. I'll let myself out."

"It was a pleasure to meet you." And with that she was out of the door and gone. 

She felt lucky to have such wonderful neighbours on either side, something she hadn't experienced back home, and it was one of the reasons she had come to a place like this. People in these small villages always pulled together and helped each other out, always friendly and polite. A huge smile spread across her face as she thought about just how friendly she intended to get with one particular resident.

*** 

The colonel sat at the table to eat breakfast and couldn't help but wonder about his new neighbour. She seemed very young to be living alone. Presuming of course she was alone and there was to be no friend or boyfriend joining her. Pretty too with her long, chestnut coloured hair cascading down her back. Her eyes were the colour of emeralds, and they sparkled like them too. She looked in good shape too, curves in the right places, just like a woman should be, and not too tall, about 5'6 he'd guess. To his surprise he felt a queer sort of feeling deep down in his gut, something he hadn't felt since his wife had died. He wondered if it was the thought of the pretty young stranger that had caused him to feel as he did, then he quickly admonished himself.

"Don't be ridiculous man. She's probably young enough to be your granddaughter!" Just a silly old fool he thought. He laughed inwardly as he carried on with his breakfast. 

***

Once she had finished eating, Beth dumped the pots in the sink and went in search of her boots. She was going to have a good look round her new village, see if there were any other villagers as handsome as the one she'd already met. She walked down the lane to the green, looking round she could see the usual duck pond, as if every village green had to come with one, shaded under a giant willow. Across the green were a few more houses, with the post office on the end. The butcher was on her left and the pub to her right. She walked round the green and up the lane to the beautifully crafted Norman church, which was on the other side of the village to her house. Now she wasn't one for religion, but she was still a huge fan of the architecture. 

She made her way back down and as she did so was thinking up an excuse to see her neighbour again. Passing the Post Office it dawned on her that she could buy some milk and sugar for the Colonel to replace what he'd given her. The thought that he was a Colonel excited her even more than when she'd first met him. Her mind started to buzz with images of him in a uniform, barking orders at her. Although he didn't seem the type to bark orders, the thought of him in uniform was enough for the fuzzy feeling she had felt earlier to return. 

She walked into the post office with a huge grin on her face, so much so the woman behind the counter looked at her like she had escaped from the nearest asylum. After introductions she bought her milk and sugar along with some bread and made her way out. She had put one foot out of the door when she crashed head on with the solid chest of the Colonel. 

"Good lord, Beth, how terribly clumsy of me. Are you alright?" he asked as he helped her to her feet.

"Y-yes thank you Colonel, just a little shocked that's all. I'm ever so sorry; I was in a world of my own." She replied giving out a nervous heady giggle. 

"There's really no need for you to be sorry, it is I who should have been more careful."

As she got to her feet a look of concern spread across his face. She had been dazed by the impact but she assured him she was fine. He bent to pick up her bag of shopping and as he did so she could smell that same sweet scent she had smelled a couple of hours previous. The rush sent her dizzy and she clutched his giant hand tighter. 

"Come on, let's get you home and sat down." 

"Really Colonel I'm perfectly fine I assure you, you don't need to go out of your way, I can manage."

"I don't doubt you can, but I'm taking you all the same. Come on; hold onto my arm, I've got your shopping."

"Ironic really, the shopping is actually for you. To replace what you gave me earlier."

"Oh you didn't need to bother with that. Poor state of affairs if I can't give my new neighbour some milk and sugar." He laughed in that sweet, soft way of his. 

Walking across the green with the Colonel holding her tightly she thought her legs could have given way at any moment. The thought of him carrying her home was tempting enough to make them. Reaching the front door she unlocked it and they both went inside. 

As he pulled out a chair for her to sit on, she moved past him so close she could swear he'd hear her heart pounding. Her pulse was racing as she looked up, he was staring into her eyes, his manly hands still gripping tightly onto her arms. Their bodies pressed against each other for what seemed an eternity before the Colonel lowered her gently into her seat. Her spine was tingling from the encounter and she could feel goose bumps on her arms. 

"Thank you Colonel, you've been very kind. I'll be fine now." 

"Really, it was no trouble, I'm just glad you're ok." His voice trembled as he spoke and he hoped she hadn't noticed. "Well I'll be on my way, see you again soon."

***

He had tried to carry on with what he was doing before he had knocked her to the ground, but his mind was betraying him. He could barely remember what he was doing before never mind carry on. Instead he returned home and once inside he was surprised to find that his heart was still racing. 

"Don't be ridiculous man, she's far too young and you're far too old." He told himself. 

Pouring himself a whisky he stood by the back window looking out into the garden. 

He tried to shake his mind from the all too familiar feelings but it was no use. He'd only ever had these feelings for one other woman, his wife. And now here he was having them again for a woman that had to be thirty five years younger than him. 

It was absurd. He tried to reassure himself that it was just the fact that she was young and pretty with a wonderfully warm personality, and that all the other women in the village, whilst just as kind, were a lot closer to his age, and not nearly as attractive. And that it was just a natural reaction for a man to have. But it was no use. 

No matter what he told himself he couldn't stop picturing those deep green eyes looking into his, or those full luscious lips that parted ever so slightly. God! He had been so tempted to lean down and kiss those lips, to taste her on his tongue, to run his hands through her long flowing locks and down her back. 

A knock at the door jolted him awake. Setting his glass down on the side table he walked across the room and opened it. 

***

The second he opened the door she flung her arms round him and he swept her from her feet. He slammed the door shut and carried her over to the table, their lips and bodies locked in passionate embrace he ran his fingers through her hair as he moved to caress her neck. Moans of pleasure filled the kitchen as his giant hands fondled her breasts. He tore the shirt from her body and slipped one boob out of its silk prison. She reached behind and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the ground between them as he moved down and took her nipple in his mouth. Sucking and biting it she groaned with ecstasy.

Running a hand down between his legs she could feel that he was huge in every way. She unbuttoned his trousers and let them fall to his ankles. Sliding a hand into his boxers she released his length, wrapping her fingers round it she started to pump. He too was moaning with pleasure, it had been far too long since he'd been this intimate with someone he had almost forgotten what it felt like. 

With one tug of her jeans and they were off. He leant her back so she was lying on the table, propping her legs up on the edge he trailed his fingers slowly and lightly down her front, circling her belly button, then down to her thigh. Stroking gently on her inner thigh she squirmed to his touch as his fingers passed teasingly over her clit and onto the other one and back again. 

The tension was killing her, she wanted to feel his fingers buried deep in her pussy. As if reading her mind he slipped first one then two fingers into her already soaking hole. His thumb pressed firm on her clit he moved it round in circles. He could feel her body respond as she pushed herself onto his fingers. His rhythm got faster as her hips buckled against him. She could stand it no longer as wave after wave of pleasure rippled through her body and her juices flowed down the Colonels' hand. 

With her pussy now soaking wet she wrapped her legs round his waist and pulled him to her. He stood with the tip of his huge erection at the entrance to her hole. Teasingly he rubbed it up and down her slit several times, coating it in her juice, before pushing his entire length deep into her.

She screamed with pleasure as he thrust harder and harder and deeper and deeper. Their hips grinding together, the whole table shook as they both reached their climax. He pushed into her as far as he could go and with a cry of delight he shot his hot load deep in her pussy as another powerful orgasm took over her body. 

He leant over her and raised her up, holding her trembling body in his strong arms he kissed her deeply. After regaining their breath they got dressed and she made some tea. Standing behind her he buried his head in her hair and inhaled her scent. She smiled up at him, thinking her life really was just about perfect. 



The Colonel and His Aide



This story is about an army officer and his aide. It could be any army, not just the U.S. Army. It could be any war, any insurgency, not just the present one. The story is meant to portray the power of love over sorrow and regret. It's my first story with a transgender character. I hope I don't offend anybody. I certainly didn't mean to. I invite your comments, as always. Enjoy. 

*

The battle had been lost, though thankfully at little cost. The insurgents had taken an important village, and driven the government forces out. Colonel John Strong had been with his troops until the very end, when shrapnel from a grenade had ended his fight. Wounded seriously in the thigh, but vigorously arguing against being evacuated, he had been taken from the battlefield, all the while directing his troops in as orderly a retreat as possible. Then and only then, when his soldiers were as safe as he could make them, had he passed out from his injuries.

Now, a week later, the insurgents still held the town, but the Colonel had made no effort to retake it. Instead, he seemed saddened and depressed by his defeat—something he saw as his failure. His officers had tried explaining to him that the insurgents outnumbered the government two to one. It hadn't helped. The Colonel had remained upset and unnerved. Now, after being moved to a hospital in the rear, he was being uncooperative with the nursing staff. He was hardly eating and not performing his physical therapy, with was vital to his recovery.

Finally, his battlefield aide, Captain Murphy, had hit upon the idea of getting the Colonel's headquarters aide to visit him in the hospital. Her name was Denise Demure, and she was a second lieutenant. She had been with the Colonel about six months, and they had seemed to work well together. Lt. Demure was efficient, punctual, and knowledgeable. She also looked damn good in her uniform.

Capt. Murphy picked up the phone and called headquarters.

"Put me through to Colonel Strong's office," he said curtly.

"Colonel Strong's office, Lieutenant Demure speaking" said a feminine, though slightly husky voice on the other end.

"Demure, this is Captain Murphy. I need for you to report to the hospital where Colonel Strong is being held ASAP."

There was a pause. "Is the Colonel all right?" Demure asked.

"Not really," Murphy replied. "He's off his feed, won't cooperate with the nurses or therapists, seems despondent, that sort of thing."

"Does it have to do with the outcome of the battle, sir?"

"Of course it does, Demure. The staff has tried to explain that it was hopeless and that his withdrawal was textbook-perfect, you know, minimal casualties and all that. But he feels he's a failure." Murphy paused. "We'd like you to come here and see if you can get the old man back on his feet, so to speak."

I know just what to do, Captain. I'll be there tomorrow evening," Lt. Demure said quietly.

"Good. I was hoping you'd say that," Murphy said. "See you tomorrow," he said, and hung up.

The next evening at 1800 hours, a slender, petite female figure appeared in the corridor leading to the Colonel's room. She was carrying a laptop computer, a briefcase, and a military travel bag. With brisk clicks of highly polished high heels, she stepped up to the two sentries at the door.

The soldiers saluted smartly. "May I help you, Ma'am?" one of them asked.

"I'm Lt. Demure, Corporal. I'm here to see the Colonel," she replied.

"Yes ma'am. Hold one, please." The soldier picked up a phone, spoke quietly, hung up, and turned to Lt. Demure.

"Capt. Murphy will be here momentarily. He wishes to speak to you before you go in."

Lt. Demure stood quietly, waiting for the captain to appear. While she did so, the two soldiers surreptitiously eyed her. In her smartly tailored green uniform jacket and skirt she cut quite a figure. Denise Demure's calves were finely muscled, her ankles slender, her thighs firm, her bottom pert and well-rounded, even under her skirt.

Her hair was dark chocolate brown, cut short and professional. Her lips were full and moist in a pixie-cute face, with a slightly upturned nose. She wore only a small amount of good quality makeup, and she applied it expertly. Denise smiled often, and the tiniest of wrinkles at the corners of her blue eyes betrayed an inner good humor and mischief. In her uniform, Lt. Demure held her shoulders squarely, but beneath the cuffs of her jacket, her hands were fine and feminine. A light scent of perfume wafted over to the soldiers. She was an altogether attractive young woman.

A couple of minutes passed, and Capt. Murphy strode down the hall. Lt. Demure and the soldiers all three saluted. Capt. Murphy took Demure's elbow and led her away from the soldiers. His ruddy face with its bulbous nose betrayed his worry.

"I'm worried about Col. Strong," Murphy said. "I'm hoping you can cheer him up."

"I'll do my best, sir," the young female officer replied.

Murphy looked closely at Demure. "I've taken the liberty of ordering his favorite meal with a bottle of wine. Try to loosen him up, Lieutenant. He thinks he's to blame for losing that town."

"I understand, sir. At least our casualties were light," Demure said quietly and earnestly.

"No dead, just a few wounded. There would have been many more except that the old man conducted a brilliant withdrawal. Best I've ever seen." Murphy had looked at her when he said "old man" but Demure hadn't said or indicated anything except her attention to the mission.

"Is the food in there now, sir?" Demure asked.

"It is. See if you can get him to eat. Also, try to get a sleeping pill into him. He needs to sleep. We're counting on you, Demure."

Denise looked into Murphy's sad, tired eyes and said, "He'll eat and sleep when I'm done with him, sir."

"Thank you. Good night." Murphy accepted Demure's salute, then turned to the soldiers on guard. "No visitors, and no disturbances, unless Lt. Demure or I say so. Clear?"

"Clear, sir," both soldiers replied smartly.

Murphy left, and Demure turned to the hospital door, opened it and entered the Colonel's room.

Colonel John Strong, a grizzled, hard-featured man of sixty-two years, lay propped up in bed. He had closely-cropped gunmetal gray hair, piercing blue-black eyes, a prominent chin, and a firm, thin-lipped mouth. The room was quiet and dark, except for the light over the head of the bed. Colonel Strong's eyes were closed. His normally sunburned face was pale. There were bags under his eyes, and he sported a beard of several days' growth. On the table beside the bed was a tray with a bottle of wine, a steak, roasted potatoes, and green beans. 

Demure noticed that there were two wine glasses and two sets of silverware. There was also a pitcher of water on the table.

Strong turned to her and said, "Lt. Demure, why are you here? I didn't send for you."

Demure saluted smartly and said, "I know sir. Capt. Murphy sent for me. There are reports to fill out, orders to be given..."

"What's the use, Demure? I lost the battle. I'm surprised I still have a command."

Denise smiled her prettiest. "Tell you what, sir. Let's not talk about business tonight. Let's eat dinner and relax. You could use a shave. How's your leg?"

"It hurts, but not too much. A piece of shrapnel grazed me. It's not infected, at least."

"Then, with respect, sir, why haven't you been doing your physical therapy?"

"I don't know, Lieutenant. I'm feeling very low right now. The disgrace of losing that..."

"Please sir, not tonight. Maybe tomorrow," Denise said firmly. "Right now, tonight, we're going to eat, relax, and sleep. That's an order."

"Oh, all right," the Colonel said gruffly.

"First, though, I'm going to get comfortable," Denise said.

She opened her travel bag on a chair by the bed and, making sure the Colonel could see her, Lt. Denise Demure began undressing.

First, she removed her black high heels. Then she took off her uniform jacket and draped it carefully over the chair. Next she unfastened and stepped out of her green uniform skirt and folded it carefully. She was now in her shift and underwear, and her white uniform shirt with its tie. She untied the tie and draped it over the chair, then removed the crisp white shirt. This she folded carefully and set aside. Her bra was white and plain, but of excellent quality; her breasts, small and round, contained perfectly within. Denise hooked her fingers into her shift and lowered it to the floor, stepping daintily out of it. She was left in her white bra and sensible cotton panties, white garter belt and high quality nylon stockings. Colonel Strong watched Denise's performance with rapt eyes. For the first time in weeks, his mind was not on the battle and his perceived mistakes. Instead, he watched his lovely aide undress in front of him. His eyes, his soul, drank in her modest beauty.

With pale, delicate hands, Denise undid the clasps on her garter belt and removed first one, then the other of her stockings. She stepped out of the garter belt and tossed it onto the chair. She rummaged briefly in her travel bag and got out a man's t-shirt.

"Is that mine?" the Colonel asked.

"Of course, sir. Whose else would it be?"

Denise reached around behind her and deftly undid the clasp of her bra, then shrugged forward a little and removed the article. Her breasts appeared, small and round, with tight little brown nipples, erect from ...what? She bent and picked up the t-shirt and, as she did so, the scent of her perfume drifted over to the Colonel. He became aroused. Even when she had slipped the thin cotton shirt on, her taut little nipples could still be seen. Once again, she bent and rummaged in the travel bag. This time, she held up a very feminine, very girly pair of silk panties, light green (in keeping with Army tradition), and held them up for the Colonel's inspection. He swallowed and nodded "yes" wordlessly. She carefully laid the panties on the bed next to the Colonel, then hooked her thumbs into the sensible "granny panties" she usually wore under her uniform. She pulled them slowly down to her ankles, bending at her slender waist directly facing the Colonel. She stepped out of the panties and straightened up, revealing to Strong's avid gaze a semi-erect, perfectly formed, five-inch circumcised penis.

Lt. Demure started to reach for the panties on the bed, but Colonel Strong said, "Wait. Please."

Denise smiled at him and stood straight up. She put her hands on her hips and thrust them out ever so slightly. Her cock was fully erect now, curving upward.

"Do you like what you see, Colonel?

"Yes, Baby Doll. I thought I might never see you again."

"That was never going to happen. You know that," Denise said quietly.

"Come here, then," he said huskily.

"Not yet, sir," Denise quickly reached over and got the green silk panties and put them on over her bulging penis. "We have work to do."

Denise arranged the table beside the bed, poured wine, and set up the tray for them to eat. Colonel Strong never once took his eyes off her.

She sat on the bed beside him and then scooted up close to him. She picked up her glass and drank, and began to eat.

"Don't I even get a kiss?" the Colonel muttered a little peevishly.

Denise paused and kissed his hairy cheek. She frowned. "You're getting a shave tonight, mister," she said. "Now eat. I—we—the Army needs you strong and well."

"Yes, ma'am," the Colonel said and picked up the utensils.

Half an hour later, most of the meal had been eaten, and all of the wine had been drunk. The Colonel had earned a couple more kisses, including one on the lips, which he particularly enjoyed.

"Thank you, Denise, for coming. I needed this," he said.

Denise looked at her man and her eyes brimmed with tears, but only for a moment. She swallowed hard and said, "Oh Daddy, I was so worried about you! When they told me you'd been wounded, I was so scared. And then I couldn't come right away."

The Colonel quieted her and said, "I wasn't hurt bad—physically. But to lose that battle, and those men! I've just ..."

"Colonel, there were no deaths on our side. You pulled out at just the right moment. You'll take the town back. I know it."

"If you say so."

"I do say so. And now it's time for a shave, and bed. I'm tired and so are you. I can tell."

She cleared the tray away and got a basin of warm water, a can of shaving cream, and a razor. Arranging everything carefully on the table, and once again scooting up close to her Colonel, she began to shave him carefully.

Most of the time, Colonel Strong kept his hands to himself, but once he did reach up to feel her breast. Denise slapped his hand and said, "Uh-uh, mister. I've got a razor in my hand, remember?" When she was finished, Denise ran her delicate fingers along his jaw and said, "Now there's my squared-away soldier." She leaned over and gave him a kiss full of promise.

Then it was time for bed, and Denise climbed in beside him. She snuggled up against him, burrowing her ass into his crotch. The Colonel reached over to take hold of her semi-erect penis, but Denise said "Not tonight, mister. Sleep first, then work tomorrow, then we'll see what happens."

"Oh, all right," the Colonel harrumphed. "Good night, Baby Doll."

"Good night, Daddy,"

As they drifted off to sleep, Denise reflected briefly on the fact that a sleeping pill had not been needed.

The alarm clock beside the bed went off at six a.m. Denise awoke to find the Colonel sitting on the side of the bed.

"Good morning, sir," she said languidly, stretching.

"Good morning, young lady," the Colonel replied.

"How well did you sleep, Colonel?"

"Better than I have in a while," he conceded, a bit gruffly.

Denise got out of bed, her morning hard-on announcing her need to pee. Colonel Strong watched her tight butt jiggle as she went to the bathroom.

By six-forty, Lieutenant Denise Demure had showered and changed into her uniform. About that time a knock came at the door. She opened it and there stood a middle-aged woman in a nurse's uniform. The middle-aged nurse smiled tightly, looked Denise up and down, and announced it was time for the Colonel to begin his day. He had breakfast, then therapy, then a meeting with his officers, all of which he had been avoiding since he'd come to the hospital.

Today, Nurse Hackett was prepared to argue with Colonel Strong, as she had every other day. Instead, somewhat grudgingly, the colonel cooperated. She looked a him and said, "Who shaved you?"

The Colonel was about to answer when Lt. Demure answered, "The Colonel shaved himself."

The nurse looked from one to the other. It was clear she didn't quite know what to think. Lt. Demure turned to the Colonel, executed a sharp salute, and said, "With the Colonel's permission, sir, I have work to do."

Colonel Strong saluted and said, "Dismissed, Lieutenant."

When Demure left the room, Capt. Murphy was waiting for her.

"How did it go last night, Lieutenant?"

"It went fine, sir. He ate and slept. He talked a little about the battle, but not much."

"What's he doing now?" Murphy asked.

"The nurse is in there helping him to the shower. He didn't protest when she laid out the plan of the day for him."

"Including the officers' meeting?"

"Yes, sir," Demure said.

"Good. Good work, Lieutenant. I take it you'll be back this evening?"

"Yes, sir. I'll be back at 1800 hours to spend the night again."

"Good. I'll arrange for you to have an office to work in until then."

"Thank you, sir," she said and saluted.

Demure took her briefcase and laptop and followed one of the soldiers down the hall to an empty office, where she set up and began working.

Then, for just a moment, she allowed herself to think about John Strong, her "Daddy."

He had spotted her early in her career and had chosen her to be his aide. At first, their relationship had been strictly professional. He was decisive, aggressive, and cared about the troops under his command. He was also lonely, and a bit conflicted about the war he was prosecuting. He was a widower.

Lt. Denise Demure had been quiet, efficient, and squared away. It had taken her only a short time to be able to anticipate her Colonel's needs and provide for them. They had worked many long hours together, and, gradually begun responding to each other as a man and woman.

The Colonel, a circumspect man, had known it was unethical to make advances, and yet he had slowly succumbed to her. Not that she had tried to seduce him. It had just happened. Denise was, after all, a young attractive woman.

And a woman was exactly what she was, despite the appendage between her legs. Denise had dressed, acted, thought, in fact lived as a woman all her life. The careful use of hormones and depilatories, makeup, hair styles, and voice coaching had made her a woman in every way but one.

When she had joined the Army, her personal physician had examined her, declared her fit for service, and signed her paperwork. Since then, she had lived carefully within the military, keeping to herself, living privately. When Colonel Strong had offered her a job as aide, she had taken it gladly. Strong had come to rely heavily on her. During working hours, the two maintained a strict professionalism.

After hours, it was a different story. Only Capt. Murphy and one or two other officers knew about their relationship (though not about Denise's situation). But nothing was said. The Colonel and Lt. Demure worked well together and made a good team. Strong was a very able battlefield commander. He was needed as focused and content as possible. Demure made him so. Murphy wasn't about to rock the boat.

When they had slept together for the first time, and Denise had undressed, terrified, in front of him, Strong had expressed surprise.

But then he'd said, "This is a dream come true, Denise."

They'd made love all night long. The colonel had given as well as he'd received. At five a.m., exhausted, Denise had snuggled into his arms for some badly-needed sleep. But before she dozed off, she'd whispered, "Will you be my big strong Daddy?"

"Of course. Will you be my little Baby Doll?"

"Yes, Daddy, I will."

*

She arrived at his hospital room at five forty-five. Capt. Murphy met her outside the door.

"How did it go today, sir?" she asked.

"Much better, Lieutenant. He ate his meals and did his physical therapy. He took a shower."

"What about the officers' meeting?"

Murphy looked worried. "He put us off. Again. Said he wasn't ready, yet."

"I'll try to get him to talk about it tonight, sir," Denise said.

"Good girl," Murphy said, and then, "Oops, I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I didn't mean to be disrespectful."

"It's all right, sir," Denise replied, looking him in the eye.

Murphy found himself slightly aroused by the sexual allure he saw in the young female officer's eyes. The Colonel was a lucky man.

Denise entered the room to find Colonel Strong in clean pajamas, sitting on the side of the bed, a meal tray in front of him. With the door safely closed behind them, and no visitors expected, she said, "Hi Daddy," and walked over quickly to give him a big kiss on the lips.

"Good evening, Baby Doll," he said, returning her kiss.

Because she knew he liked to see her that way, she changed into a t-shirt and panties again. Then she sat down beside him to share his meal.

Leaning on him a little, she said, "You smell good, Daddy."

"I got a shower today. I feel some better," he said.

"How's your leg?"

"It's better. See?" he said, flexing it back and forth and only wincing a little.

"Colonel, you have to meet with your officers."

His face took on a pained expression. "I don't think I'm ready, Denise."

Denise got behind him and began massaging his big square shoulders. "You're going to have to review the action sometime, sir."




The Colonel and His Aide Pt. 02



Hello, everybody. This will be my last story in the transgender genre. I have loved writing both of these stories and my "Karen and Me" stories, but it's time to explore something else in the erotic world. As you can see, I'm a romantic at heart and deeply respectful of women and their feelings. I don't like violence and I won't write about it in my stories. If my tales are too "cutsie" then so be it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one. I've tried to create a strong, yet vulnerable and irresistibly erotic character in Denise Demure. I hope I succeeded.

***

Colonel John Strong took in the scene before him. A perfectly shaped feminine butt was in front of him. The skin was smooth and white, the waist small, the cheeks taut and firm. Between them, on open display, was a dainty, puckered butthole. Below the butthole hung a modest set of testicles and a partially erect penis. The Colonel was on his knees, and he sidled closer so that his fully erect eight-inch cock slid in between the asscheeks, rubbing the tight little anal pore.

"Are you ready, Baby Doll?" the Colonel asked huskily.

"Yes sir, Daddy, I'm so ready," replied a kittenish, yet slightly husky voice.

Colonel John Strong was a veteran of many conflicts over the years. He was 62 years old and every year showed in his deeply tanned face. His piercing blue eyes exuded intelligence and his strong jawline exuded confidence and, sometimes, stubbornness. His body was lean and hard, and scarred with the wounds of many battles. His hair was close-cropped and iron-gray. He was clean-shaven. He cared for few things or people in this life. He had cared for his deceased wife Margaret. He cared for the army in which he served. And he cared for the young transgender female in front of him. He had thought he would never love again after losing his wife, but then he'd met Denise Demure, and that had changed.

Denise Demure was a First Lieutenant (newly promoted) in the army. She was Colonel Strong's personal aide, and a small bundle of intelligence and energy. She was a foot shorter than Colonel Strong and petite, yet her frame exhibited modest curves. Her hair was dark, regulation length, and straight. Her eyes were clear and blue and looked a bit large in her cute face. She had been Colonel Strong's aide for quite a while now, and she knew how much he relied upon her. She did everything she could to meet his expectations. She hadn't meant to fall in love with her Colonel. They were supposed to keep it "professional." But from their first meeting, something had clicked between them. That they would get together was inevitable. When the time came, the rigid, hard Colonel and the petite transgender woman had clicked in bed as well. Their physical connection had only made their working relationship better, more effective. She was always honest with him. He always listened and took her views into consideration. Together, they had accomplished very much.

It had not mattered that, the first time they made love, Denise had revealed herself to be transgender. The Colonel had accepted it fully and entered into the sex without a moment's hesitation. He had gladly performed oral sex upon Denise, even swallowing her semen. Their sex life went both ways, with each giving and receiving pleasure in equal amounts.

The Colonel picked up the tube of lubricant and squirted a generous amount onto the pink puckered hole in front of him. He rubbed it in with the tip of his engorged cock, then coated his shaft and head with it. Now fully prepared and lubricated, he began entering the anus of his lovely transgender aide.

A few months ago, the Colonel had suffered a setback on the battlefield. It had put him into a deep funk. Only Lt. Demure had been able to lift him out of his depression. Her attention and her unselfish use of sex as therapy had been just what the Colonel needed. Once out of his funk, the Colonel had returned to the field energized. He had retaken the ground he had lost with little loss of life on either side, and had forced the insurgents to negotiate. It was those negotiations in which he found himself now. They had been tense and stressful, but ultimately productive. Progress had been made in the past several days. The Colonel was hopeful.

This evening, after the post-negotiation meeting, Denise and the Colonel had retired to his private quarters with orders not to be disturbed except in a dire emergency. The two lovers had eaten, drunk some wine, and changed into light sleeping clothes. Then they had cuddled up together in bed, just enjoying each other's company and closeness. They kissed often, and caressed each other's neck and backs. They embraced, rubbing their erect penises together. Finally, the contact had gotten too much, and they had gotten naked and began making love. The Colonel had begun working his way down Denise's belly when she said, "I want you inside me tonight, Daddy."

"Don't you want me to take care of you first, Baby Doll?" the Colonel asked.

"No. I'll touch myself while you're in me. I just need you inside me now."

Denise quickly got onto her hands and knees, her ass in the air. She could feel the coolness on her willing anus. Then she felt something warm and wet, and realized the Colonel was licking her, tonguing her.

"Getting me ready, sir?" she asked.

"Oh yes, sweetie. You taste so good."

"Are you going to put your big cock in me?"

"I'm going to slide it right home."

"I can hardly wait."

As Colonel Strong's steel-hard cock began spreading her open, Denise took a deep breath. As much as she loved having her Colonel buried in her up to his sperm-laden balls, the initial insertion had to be slow, for his cock was large, with a bulbous head that hurt a little as he passed through her tight sphincter ring. It was worth it though, she thought, because once he was inside, he took her in his warm, slightly rough hands and made her his. His woman. His lover. 

Colonel Strong pushed gently, and Denise began opening for him. The fat head of his penis stretched her tight opening. She smiled and grimaced at the same time. Her Colonel, her military man, was assaulting her defenses. Her smooth tight butthole was a tough little nut to crack, so to speak, but his gentle though strong and insistent pressure made her surrender all but inevitable. He thrust a little, grunting in pleasure as he did so, and she gasped and mewed a little as her backdoor grudgingly accepted the head of his cock.

"Do you surrender, Peanut?" the Colonel asked, using another of his pet names for her. 

"You're going to have to take me, Colonel," Denise grunted. Pleasure filled her body and lightened her heart as they played the conquer game. Denise squeezed his dickhead hard, then relaxed. When she did so, the colonel slipped in a little more.

"I can feel your defenses giving way, Lieutenant. It will go easier for you if you just open up and let me in."

"Never, Colonel," she moaned, laughing, then gasped as the Colonel pushed a bit farther into her guts.

His cock was halfway in now. All he had to do was push one more time and he would hilt himself. But he wanted to play a little more, so he said, "Your capitulation is imminent, young lady. I can see it in your...eyes. Now relax on the old Colonel and let him achieve his victory.

"With all due respect, Colonel dearest, if you want my little asshole, you're going to have to take it. Ohhh..."

You leave me no choice, honey buns, but to take what is mine," he said, and smoothly, strongly thrust into her as far as he could go. He was so deep their balls were touching. "Oh heavens, Baby Doll, that feels good!"

"You win, Colonel Daddy. I surrender to your mighty weapon. Now what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to make repeated thrust into your sweet little boipussy until you are loose and your defenses utterly gone, and then I'm going to unleash a bombardment of my hot cum and drown any resistance you have left. It will be a sweet victory."

"And an even sweeter surrender," Denise said, burying her face in the pillow, spreading her legs and butt cheeks even wider and inviting her Colonel to have his way with her.

Colonel Strong took her hips in his hands and gripped her firmly. Then he began pistoning in and out of her steadily loosening asshole. She was hot and slick and snug, and he knew he wouldn't last long. Denise moaned continuously and reached between her legs to grasp her own hard cock. Together, the Colonel and his lieutenant danced the ancient dance of coital love. They moved in unison, in rhythm, each working for a shared orgasm.

The Colonel leaned down over her, holding her to him and kissing the back of her neck. She smelled of sweet womanhood, and perfume, and sex. With each inward thrust, she met him with an outward one. They were like a well-oiled fucking machine.

Soon, they both neared climax. "I'm very close, sweetie," the Colonel gasped. He could feel the load of sperm leaving his balls and gathering at the base of his cock. He was going to erupt soon.

Denise was concentrating on her own orgasm. Her delicate hand worked her small cock rapidly. She too would be cumming soon.

Without realizing it, both Denise and the Colonel were creating an erotic soundtrack. There was the sound of bodies slapping together, the squishing sound of the Colonel's cock slamming into Denise's butthole, the gasps and moans of pleasure, and then, Denise's high-pitched cry as she spent herself all over the bed beneath her, her thick semen flying around as she masturbated herself furiously, chasing every nuance of feeling.

Above her, balls deep in her boipussy, the Colonel saw the cum flying, felt her quaking underneath him. The smell of her semen and her sweet, sexy body reached him and he also peaked and began cumming.

His thick, heavy sperm moved down his shaft and burst out of his cock and into Denise's anus. He came and came, emptying a large load of sperm into Denise's body. She thrust back at him, milking him with her asshole when she was alerted to his climax by his cries of pleasure.

Finally both of them were spent. He collapsed across her back, slowly withdrawing his still-hard cock from her thoroughly loosened butthole. They fell to their sides on the bed, neither caring about the pools of semen left by Denise's ejaculation. Denise turned to him and pressed her body to his. Their wet cocks caressed each other as Denise kissed her Colonel lover hard and deeply. He kissed her back roughly, accepting her final, total surrender. They needed no words. Instead, they fell asleep in each other's arms, wondering how their lovemaking could be this good every single time. Every. Single. Time.

***

The next day, after negotiating with the insurgents for several hours, Colonel Strong and Lieutenant Demure left the tent together. The talks had been going fairly well. A cease-fire had been declared, and the fighting had stopped. There had been no casualties for twenty-four hours. During the talks, Lt. Demure had been at the Colonel's side, providing him with intelligence crucial to his handling of the negotiations. They had performed well as a team, and now it was almost time for the politicians to take over.

The Colonel and the Lieutenant picked up their escort of soldiers and began walking down the road to the mess tent. Lt. Demure was on the Colonel's left. She was between the Colonel and the road. They were deep in conversation about the peace talks when two young men stepped out from a line of trucks on the opposite side of the road. One of them said, "Hey Colonel!" and tossed something on the ground before running away.

Denise saw the grenade as it rolled toward them. She quickly turned toward the Colonel, her back to the explosive. The grenade went off. Denise was thrown into the Colonel and both were thrown onto the ground. The Colonel went "Ooof!" as the force threw him backward onto the road. He bumped his head smartly and briefly saw stars. Lt. Demure was lying on top of him, unconscious. He could feel wetness on his shirt front and he wondered if he'd been hit. But he felt no pain. Denise's head was on his shoulder, her arms thrown over him protectively. He gently pushed her off and laid her on the ground next to him. The side of her uniform shirt below her left breast had a large, and spreading, blood stain.

"Lt. Demure! Denise! Can you hear me?" he said urgently to her. He looked around, spotted a soldier. "Go get a medic, soldier," he said.

"We've already sent for one, Sir," the soldier said. He knelt beside Denise and put his rolled up poncho behind her head. Colonel strong unbuttoned her shirt and peeled back her undershirt to reveal a five-inch gash in her side, oozing blood steadily.

"Somebody give me a battle dressing," the Colonel snapped. The soldiers standing around all handed him theirs. While one soldier gently lifted Denise, the Colonel carefully yet firmly tied the dressing around her, covering the wound and staunching the flow of blood.

Lt. Demure opened her eyes and mumbled, "What happened?" She focused on the Colonel. "John? Are you all right?"

"Yes Denise, I'm fine." The blood had started again. He tied another dressing in place.

"What happened?" she asked.

"There was a grenade. You were hit. You're going to be okay, though." He looked around. "Where is that medic?"

"Right here, sir," said a young female soldier just kneeling beside him. "I'll take care of her, sir."

"See that you do, soldier," the Colonel said brusquely. Then, softening his tone, he said, "She's very important to me."

"Don't worry, sir," the medic said. "I've got her now."

The Colonel was turning to leave, murder in his heart, when he heard Denise say, "Colonel?"

He turned around. Denise's eyes were open. She focused on him clearly and said, "The boys who did this, don't kill them."

"What do you mean, Lieutenant? They deserve to die for what they've done."

Her voice was starting to fade, but she recovered and said, looking right at him, "They're probably just young hotheads, sir. Let their own people deal with them. It will be a show of good faith. Killing them will destroy the peace talks. Trust me on this, please."

With a visible effort, the Colonel said, "As you wish, Lieutenant."

Lieutenant Demure passed out.

Colonel Strong turned to the nearest officer, a fresh-faced Second Lieutenant, and said, "Find them, son."

"We're already looking, Colonel. We'll have them soon, I'm sure."

"You heard what Lt. Demure said, didn't you? Do not kill them. Capture them. Anything happens to them, somebody will answer to me."

"Yes sir!" the Lieutenant said, saluting.

"Carry on," the Colonel said, returning his salute.

Lt. Demure was placed on a stretcher and taken to the aid tent. Once inside, the corpsmen began removing her clothes to better work on her. Seeing this, the Colonel called the medical officer over.

The officer was impatient, wanting to get back to his patient. "Yes sir?" he asked.

"Do you know Lt. Demure?" the Colonel asked.

"No sir, I don't. Why do you ask?" the doctor said.

"Because when you remove her uniform, you're going to find something you're not expecting," the Colonel said.

The doctor looked confused. The Colonel sighed and said, "Doctor, the Lieutenant is a pre-operative transsexual."

The doctor's eyes widened. "You mean she has a ..."

"Yes. I mean she has a penis."

The doctor immediately turned away from the Colonel and began barking orders at his team. "Corpsman, pull a curtain around this stretcher. Right away!"

Colonel Strong heard him talking in low tones to the corpsmen at the bedside. He couldn't hear what he was saying, but he could guess. He waited outside the tent while the doctor and his team worked on Lt. Demure. It was less than an hour later that the doctor came to him and said, "She's stable, Colonel, but seriously injured. We're going to medevac her back to the hospital. She sedated but she can respond to you. Would you like to speak to her before she goes?"

"Yes I would. And thank you and your team for what you've done, doctor," the Colonel said.

"She's not out of the woods yet, but she's well enough to travel by chopper back to where she can have surgery. We did the best we could. I'll pass your message on to the team."

Lt. Demure was in a stretcher, covered in a blanket, IVs hanging over her. She was very pale. The Colonel walked up to the stretcher. Lieutenant," he said softly.

"Denise opened her eyes, smiled. "Yes sir?" she said.

"How are you feeling, soldier? Are you in any pain?"

"No sir. I'm fine."

The Colonel felt himself about to tear up. He controlled himself swiftly and said, a bit gruffly, "I will come and visit you at the hospital. These good people are going to take care of you now."

"Okay, sir. I'll see you there."

The colonel reached under the blanket, found Denise's hand and squeezed it firmly. He leaned down and whispered, "I will see you soon, soldier," in her ear, then stepped back and nodded at the team. They picked her up, put her on a humvee, and took her out to a waiting helicopter. The chopper roared, lifted off, and she was gone.

For the next two days, Colonel Strong was occupied with a number of tasks. There was the matter of finding the two young rebels who had thrown the grenade. Then it was back to the negotiating table to deal with the crisis. The Colonel was none too pleased about the attack, and he let the head negotiator for the insurgents know it.

"Can you not keep your soldiers under control?" he asked curtly.

"Many of my fighters are young and impulsive, Colonel," the negotiator said. He was a bit rattled by the attack himself. "Rest assured, it will not happen again"

"It had better not, if you want these talks to move forward," the Colonel said.

The chief negotiator, under pressure from his superiors to maintain the talks, and fully aware of Strong's effectiveness on the battlefield, swallowed hard and nodded.

"Also," the Colonel said, "as a gesture of good faith, and on the advice of my aide, who by the way was injured seriously in the attack, we'll be turning the boys over to you to be dealt with. It's against my better judgment, because I would have had them shot."

"That's very kind of you, sir," the negotiator said.

Strong stood up and said, "I'm leaving now. A representative of my government will continue these talks in my stead. Keep your fighters under control, sir."

"You have my word, Colonel," the man said.

They shook hands. The Colonel left the tent, got into a waiting humvee, and said, "Take me to the airfield." At the airfield, Colonel Strong boarded a waiting helicopter. The pilot said, "Where to, Colonel?" The Colonel replied, "Take me to the hospital." The chopper lifted off and headed in the direction of the hospital.

Thirty minutes later, the helicopter landed at the hospital. Strong left the aircraft and went directly to Lt. Demure's room. It was the same room he'd be in previously. Outside, Captain Murphy, a medical officer, and a nurse were waiting for him.

They all saluted and Strong said, "Okay, brief me. You first," he said, looking at the doctor.

The doctor was young, and female, and apparently very experienced, judging from her rank, which was major. "Lt. Demure was injured by a piece of shrapnel which passed through her left side. She was lucky. It didn't hit any vital organs, but it did cause a nasty gash which bled very freely. She's had blood and plasma, she's been to surgery, and we've repaired the wounds. We've loaded her with antibiotics and some painkillers."

The Colonel said, "What do you mean 'some' painkillers, doctor?"

The nurse spoke. "Colonel, Lt. Demure has repeatedly refused adequate pain medication. She says she wants to stay sharp in case you need her. I can adequately control her pain, sir, but she won't let me."




The Colonel and His Aide Pt. 02



"I see," said the Colonel. "Is the wound in her side the only one?"

"Yes, sir," the doctor said. "She was shaken up from the blast, but she seems to have recovered from that."

"What about you, Captain Murphy? Have you got anything to tell me?"

"Yes, sir. We caught the two young men who threw the grenade. We're holding them at camp." Murphy replied.

"Good work. Interrogate them and give them back to their people."

Murphy looked surprised. "But Colonel, they could be an important bargaining chip."

"I know," Strong said, "but as a gesture of good faith, I want them returned. Is that clear? You can interrogate them, even rough them up a little, but no torture. Absolutely none. Make sure they're taken care of. I'm holding you responsible for this, Captain."

"I understand, sir," Captain Murphy replied.

"Good, now I'm going in the room. Don't come in unless I call." Strong turned to the nurse. "Have pain medication—a full dose—ready. You'll be needing it soon."

"Yes, sir," the nurse said.

Colonel Strong took a deep breath and opened the door to the hospital room. Lt. Demure was lying in the bed in a hospital gown. She had an IV attached to her arm. She was very pale.

John Strong was worried by what he saw. She seemed too pale. Her brow was furrowed in pain. She lay quietly in the bed, not moving. Her breathing was shallow and a little rapid for his taste. He walked to the bed, took her hand in his, and said softly, "Denise?"

She opened blue eyes. For a moment, she stared at him, the recognition dawned and she smiled. "Colonel," she said.

"How are you feeling, soldier?" the Colonel said around the sudden catch in his throat.

She licked dry lips and said, "I'm fine sir."

Strong gave her some water to drink and said, "They tell me you're refusing pain medication. That won't do, Lieutenant. You shouldn't have to be in pain."

"I want to be sharp. In case you need me." Denise grimaced as she said this, obviously hurting. Her eyes opened wide and she looked at him. "Colonel? Were you hurt? In the explosion, I mean."

The Colonel felt tears come to his eyes, but he blinked them back quickly. "No, Denise, I didn't get a scratch, thanks to you. I guess your body shielded mine."

She smiled wanly. "I'm glad. What about the two boys who..."

Strong sighed and looked into her eyes. "They've been captured alive. I've left orders to return them to their people. After we question them, of course."

"Don't be too hard on them. They're young," she said.

"Nothing's going to happen to them, Lieutenant. I promise. If anything does, somebody will answer to me."

"Good," she said, grimacing again. "What about the talks?"

"I've turned them over to the politicos. Your assistance was invaluable, Denise. I'm putting you in for a decoration. And there's this," he said, removing a small case from his pocket. He opened it and took out a medal, the one awarded for being wounded in battle. He held it up for her to see. "It is my honor to present this to you, First Lieutenant Denise Demure, for wounds sustained in the service of your country." Barely under control, the Colonel pinned the medal to the pillow beside Denise's head. Then he leaned down and kissed her forehead. Denise reached up and pulled him down to her lips and kissed him, hard. The kiss lasted several seconds. They fed hungrily on each other, each needing and wanting the intimate contact. Denise felt his tear on her chest, but said nothing lest it embarrass him. When they broke the kiss, the Colonel looked quickly away and wiped his eyes.

"I needed that, Daddy," she said quietly.

"So did I, Baby Doll," he replied.

He sat down beside the bed. "Now, about your pain medication..."

Denise broke down and began crying. "Oh Daddy, it hurts so badly!" she sobbed. Colonel Strong immediately got up and took her in his arms. She sobbed against his strong shoulder for several minutes. "I didn't want to be knocked out in case you needed me." she said brokenly.

"Denise, of course I need you. I need you all the time. But being in pain will impede your recovery. In the meantime, Captain Murphy will be an, um, adequate replacement. Besides, it's out of my hands now. So relax and take your medicine and get well, Lieutenant. That's an order."

She looked at him and said, "Yes, sir."

Colonel Strong got on the call bell and said, "Have the nurse come in here, please."

A moment later, the nurse came in. "Yes, sir, what can I do for you?"

"Did you bring the Lieutenant's pain medication?" the Colonel asked.

"Yes, sir, I did," the nurse replied.

"Good. She'll take it now."

"The entire dose?"

"Yes, the full dose. I don't want her in pain any longer," the Colonel said.

"Okay, sir."

The nurse went to the bed, picked up the IV tubing, and injected the contents of the syringe into the line. "The med has been given," she said.

"Thank you," said the Colonel.

On the bed, Denise was visibly relaxing. The wrinkles in her brow smoothed out, and her eyes got a little glassy. She looked at him and smiled. "My Colonel Daddy," she murmured.

For the next few hours, while Denise slept, Colonel Strong talked on his cell phone, handling matters from the hospital room. He had his travel bag and rucksack brought to the room. He instructed the hospital staff that he was spending the night and that he and Lt. Demure were not to be disturbed. He had food brought in should they get hungry. The he took a shower and dressed in a white tee shirt and (army green) boxers. After awhile, Denise stirred and looked at him.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," he replied. "Did you rest well?"

"Yes."

"How's your pain?"

"It's okay right now."

"Do you want to eat or drink?"

"Maybe a little something to drink."

There was water, milk, and tea. She chose milk. She drank the cup down, and leaned back in bed. "Anything more?" he asked.

"Not right now," she said. She looked at him and asked, "Daddy, can we sleep together tonight?"

"Of course we can, sweetie."

"Good," she said.

By this time, it was getting late. The Colonel said, "Scoot over," and Denise moved over so he could get in. He turned on his side so that they could spoon, and soon both were asleep.

Sometime in the early morning, Denise woke up in pain. She was grimacing and couldn't get comfortable. Colonel Strong called the nurse, and then sat in the chair while Denise got her medication. The nurse also looked at the dressing on her side. The bandage was large and fairly bulky, and here was a pink spot in the middle from seepage.

"How is the wound healing?" the Colonel asked.

"It's healing well," the nurse said, "but it was a rather large gash. I'm not surprised it hurts. That's why I'm surprised that she was so reluctant to take pain medication."

"That," the Colonel said, nodding towards the bed, "is a real trooper. She's an excellent, squared-away soldier. She was waiting to see if I needed her."

"And you don't?" the nurse asked.

"I've got an adequate replacement," the Colonel said, but she's the best aide I've ever had. She knows my mind and she knows what intelligence I need before I even know it. I need her well so we can continue this fight."

"Then impress upon her to comply with the treatment, including all her meds, so that she can relax and heal," the nurse said.

"I will," the Colonel replied.

When the nurse had left, the Colonel crawled back into bed and wrapped Denise in his arms.

"What were you two talking about?" Denise murmured.

"Nothing, sweetie. Go back to sleep," he replied.

***

The next morning, Colonel Strong got up at five, showered, dressed, and sat down beside Denise's bed. After a while she stirred and looked over at him.

"Good morning, sir," she said.

"Good morning, Denise," he replied. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. Hurting a little. Are you going to have coffee with me?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. I need to discuss a couple of things with you."

"Colonel, could you help me to the bathroom?" she asked.

"Of course I can," he replied.

Very carefully, Colonel Strong helped Denise out of bed and into the bathroom. They stood there in front of the commode. Denise had one arm over his shoulder, and the other attached to an IV. She looked over at him, a slight smile on her face, and whispered, "You're going to have to help me, sir."

Colonel Strong looked down at Denise's penis, with its morning erection. "Well, your little soldier has the right idea," he said.

"What do you mean, sir?" Denise asked, an impish smile on her face.

"He's standing at attention," the Colonel said with a straight face.

They both laughed, and then Strong took Denise in his warm strong hand and held her while she peed. He shook her off and wiped the tip with a piece of toilet tissue. He had just gotten her back into bed when a knock came at the door. The nurse from the previous night came in.

"Well, how are we this morning?" she asked.

"Fine," Denise said.

"Did you rest well?"

Denise glanced over at the Colonel. "Yes, very well."

"Good. Do you need anything?" the nurse asked. She was checking Denise's IVs, and inspecting her dressing. "Pain medicine?"

"No pain medicine," Denise said, glancing at the Colonel. "Not yet, anyway."

"Could we get two large cups of coffee, please?" the Colonel asked.

"Sure. I'll have a corpsman bring them. I'll be back later. I have to hang antibiotics and change her dressing. Call if you need me," the nurse said, and left.

"Thank you, ma'am," the Colonel said.

A few minutes later, the corpsman brought in coffee, cream, and sugar. The Colonel fixed their cups and said to Denise, "Let's talk about the negotiations."

For the next thirty minutes, the Colonel and the Lieutenant discussed the ongoing peace talks. After a while, the colonel could see that Denise was tiring and in pain. He got up to leave.

"Will you come back tonight, sir?" Denise asked.

"If at all possible," the Colonel said. "In the meantime, eat something, cooperate, and take your pain meds. That's an order."

"Yes, sir," she said.

The Colonel leaned down to kiss her, but Denise met him and pulled him close. They exchanged another hungry kiss.

Finally the Colonel straightened and said, "Have a good day. I'll return when I can."

That evening, an obviously tired Colonel John Strong returned to Denise's hospital room. He brought a change of clothes and toilet gear with him. After he had showered, he and Denise had a light supper together. He sat beside the bed and drank a cold bottle of water while they talked. It had been a tiring day for both of them. Finally the Colonel said, "Denise, I have to lie down." Immediately Denise scooted over to make room. But he didn't get in. Instead, he asked, "Are you supposed to get anything before you go to sleep? You look tired and in a little pain."

"I am hurting a little," Denise acknowledged.

"Okay, then let's get you something so we can both rest." The Colonel called in Denise's nurse and had her give Denise some pain medication. Then he left orders not to disturb them unless absolutely necessary. When the door closed, he climbed in beside Denise.

She kept shifting beside him and grunting a little. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"I can't get comfortable, sir," she said. "Any way that I lay hurts."

They both shifted around and got as comfortable as possible. And then Denise said quietly, "John?"

"Yes, sweetie."

"I know what would make me feel better," she said.

"What would that be?"

"If you would touch me," she said quietly.

"Touch you how, darling?"

"You know. Touch my, uh, cock," she said very quietly.

"Would that make you feel better?"

"Oh yes, sir. I'm sure it would," she said, smiling at him.

"Well, then I should do it, you know, to make you feel better."

Denise opened her legs a little, and Colonel Strong unsnapped her pajama bottoms. Moving gingerly to avoid hurting her, he pulled the bottoms down, once again marveling at the smooth softness of her skin. At the junction of her slim thighs, nestled in a patch of fine, curly hair, lay Denise's semi-erect cock. She was about five inches long, cut, and medium-thick. As she lay there beside her Colonel/lover, she became more erect under his gaze.

For the Colonel's part, seeing her naked and open like this was a sight for his sore eyes. He would never that though that he'd become so enamored of a penis, but there it was. The Colonel, a normally gruff man, was completely different when he was alone with Denise. Her body was a wonderful thing to him, and he was as fond of the cock before him as he'd been of his wife's pussy. Maybe even more. He enjoyed looking at it, and touching it, and nuzzling it. But above all, he enjoyed sucking it. It had been a revelation to him, how much he enjoyed having Denise in his mouth. She was just the right size, and smooth, and hard, and so responsive. He loved the way her cock felt in his mouth and the sounds she made while he loved her. He didn't even mind it when she came in his mouth. He always drank her essence down. As a matter of fact, many loads of sperm had passed between them, in both directions.

So now as he lay beside her and looked down on her flat, slightly muscled belly and her hard, needy cock, he felt no qualms about asking, "Would you like to be sucked, Denise?"

"I want your nice warm dry hand, and I want to cuddle with you while you do it, and then I want to fall asleep in your arms afterwards," Denise told him.

"Then that's what we'll do," the Colonel replied.

The Colonel took her in his hand gently but firmly. She was moderately hard already. She stiffened more at his touch. Denise opened her legs and thrust her pelvis forward. She nuzzled her head under his arm and breathed deeply while his handled her. The Colonel loved touching her in any way, but he especially loved bringing her to climax with his hand. Giving Denise pleasure was one of his favorite things to do.

Steadily he pumped her fully erect penis with his slightly calloused hand. She never wanted any lube when he did this, only his warm dry hand. She claimed to like the slight roughness. A clear drop of pre-cum formed at the tip of her cock. He rubbed it into her spongy head with his thumb, causing her to gasp in pleasure.

"Feel good?" he asked huskily.

"Mmmm hmmm, Daddy," she replied.

He grunted in pleasure as well, because her firm little butt was burrowing into his crotch, rubbing his cock, making him hard.

He eyes were closed, her mouth open. She breathed deeply, moaning a little. He could tell she was close, but he kept up a steady pace. He wanted her pleasure to build slowly, not peak too quickly. He leaned down and whispered in her ear "Are you Daddy's little baby doll?"

"Yes, sir," she breathed.

"Do you like it when Daddy strokes your cock?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Are you going to show Daddy your cum?"

"Oh yes, Daddy!"

"How much cum do you have for your Daddy?"

"Oh! So much! I've been saving it for him!"

"Okay, sweetie, show me what you've got. Cum for me. Show me your sweet cum."

"Okay Daddy, it's coming soon!"

"Cum for me, baby."

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Ungh!"

Denise's cock began spurting gobs of thick white semen. The force threw them a foot in the air, and there was lots of it. As she did so, her body shook and spasmed with the force of her climax. Colonel Strong kept pumping, but gradually he slowed down and lightened his touch. His hand was covered in her semen, lubricating her shaft as he moved over it. Denise gasped and moaned, breathing heavily, straining he get every last bit of pleasure. Presently, she got too sensitive and had to stop him.

He kissed her long and hard. She threw her arms around his neck, taking his tongue down her throat, pressing her cum-splattered body to his. She broke the kiss and lay back, completely relaxed, a smile on her face.

"How's your pain," he asked.

"What pain," she said, smiling at him.

"Good," he said.

He got a towel, cleaned them both up, and settled into bed. He was tired and so was she. As they drifted off to sleep, she whispered, "Love you."

"Love you too," he replied.

***

Over the next few weeks, Denise stayed in the hospital recovering from her wound. Although the gash from the grenade shrapnel had been deep, it had thankfully not hit any major organs. Denise had several minor surgeries to repair tissue, and then a final one to close the wound. Then there came a day when Denise was to go home. The Colonel had his driver come to the hospital to pick Denise up. When Denise and the Colonel had settled in the back seat, the Colonel gave orders to drive to his home. He assumed that Denise would want to stay with him until she had fully recovered. But Denise quietly said, "John, I would like to go to my own apartment."

He looked at her quizzically. "Why?" he asked.

"I just prefer it that way," she said, not looking at him.

Colonel Strong was surprised and a little hurt. He had been looking forward to having Denise around his home, maybe taking some leave together. The politicians had taken over negotiations with the insurgents, and he was at a lull time.

"Is there something wrong, Denise? Just tell me and we'll work it out."

"I'd rather not talk about it. You've done nothing wrong, John. I just want my old place, that's all."

The Colonel grudgingly gave directions to drive to Denise's apartment. He looked at her and she smiled back at him, but it seemed the smile wasn't wholly sincere. He tried to think back on her hospitalization. After that first tender moment when he had brought her to climax with his hand, Denise had gradually become a little distant. He used to revel in the sight of her smooth, feminine body with its incongruous male penis. Her breasts were small, but perfect. Her hips flared nicely from a slender waist. Her belly was flat and toned. And nestled at the bottom of her belly in a small bush of pubic hair was Denise's beautiful cock. The cock he loved to touch and hold and, yes, suck.

But lately she had taken to hiding her body from him. When he visited her at the hospital, she wore flannel pajamas, or a hospital gown, or a hospital gown over flannel pajamas. He realized he hadn't seen her naked in two weeks. The realization came as a shock to Colonel John Strong, for he was a man of strong physical and emotional appetites. If he couldn't heave Denise physically, he still needed to see her and touch her.

Still, he said nothing. He helped her get her bags up to her apartment. Then he stood at the door uncertainly, waiting for ...what?

"So when can I see you again?" he asked.

"Call me in a couple of days," she said, and unhappy smile on her face. Denise was on leave and would not be back to work for a couple more weeks.

"You know I love you, don't you?" he asked.

"I love you, too, John." 

He left feeling perplexed and unhappy, wondering what he had done wrong. Was she seeing someone else? Had her feelings changed? He didn't know, and he knew that he would worry about it until he found out.

The next day, from his desk, he sent her a text message: "Good morning, young lady. How was your night?" It took her a maddeningly long time to reply, but eventually his phone vibrated. Her message said, "Fine. Slept well. No pain. Hope U R having a good day." He typed back, "Everything fine here. Miss you at your desk. Will call later this week. ILY." Her response was, "ILY2."

After that, the Colonel forced himself to wait two more days before calling her again. When he did, it took her what seemed like a long time to answer her phone.

"Hello?"

"Denise, this is John. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, Colonel."

"What's with this 'Colonel' stuff? I'd say we know each other well enough to call each other by our first names."

"I know...John. It's just that I'm feeling a little low and confused right now. I'm not sure what I want."




The Colonel and His Aide Pt. 02



"Denise, I know what you're going through, believe me, I do. I've been wounded several times. I've been wounded seriously. It changes things. It changes the way you feel about life, your friends, even your body. Can I please come over so that we can talk?"

"Oh, okay, you can come over tonight, if you'd like," she said.

"Good. I'll be over at seven. Don't cook; I'll bring wine and we can have something delivered, if you want."

"Okay," she said.

"I can't wait to see you," the Colonel said.

"I'm looking forward to seeing you too," she said quietly.

They exchanged "I love yous" and hung up.

At seven sharp that evening, Colonel Strong knocked on Denise's door. He carried flowers and not one, but two bottles of her favorite red wine. When she opened the door, he was surprised. Denise, as a transgender female, had always taken a lot of care with her appearance. Her hair and makeup were always just right. Her uniforms were well-tailerlored. Her civilian clothes were of good quality and in good taste.

This evening, though, Denise was obviously struggling with something. She had showered. He could tell that from the way she smelled. Her hair was clean, but not styled impeccably like usual. She had on no makeup, which tended to make her appear slightly more masculine. Denise was indeed a feminine transgender, but at certain times, in certain light, her masculinity still came through. To top it off, she was wearing, of all things, flannel pajamas. When she opened the door for Colonel Strong, she smiled, but her blue eyes appeared sad.

To be sure, the Colonel was glad to see his lover and aide no matter what shape she was in. But he knew something was wrong. She opened the door for him, then went back over and flopped on the couch. The apartment was clean and orderly, but he could tell that no food had been prepared for several days, which meant she wasn't eating. No matter, they could always order out, but it worried him.

He walked over and sat beside her on the couch. "How are you doing, Denise?"

"I'm doing okay," she said.

"Are you having much pain?"

"Not too much."

She wouldn't look at him. He was really worried that she might be slipping away from him.

"I brought these for you, and your favorite wine," he said, handing her the bunch of flowers.

"Thank you," she said, taking them. She admired them briefly, then put them on the coffee table.

"Let's open the wine," he said, getting up and going into the kitchen. He knew where she kept her wine glasses and her corkscrew. He opened the wine and poured them two glasses.

He handed her a glass and sat beside her on the couch. Even without makeup, perfume, or attractive clothing, John strong found Denise Demure powerfully attractive. Her fresh, clean scent wafted over him, melting his heart and arousing him. He longed to hold her, to kiss her. But first he had to find a way to get through to her.

"The peace talks are going well," he said.

"I'm glad," she said. "What about the two boys who...?"

"We returned them to their unit. I don't know what will happen to them, but they'll probably be okay. After all, no one was killed."

"I'm glad," Denise said quietly, taking a sip of her wine.

"Are you hungry, Denise? How about I order out, or raid the kitchen?"

She took another sip. She exhaled deeply. "I...I could eat something, I guess," she said.

"What would you like? Is there something in your kitchen I could prepare for you?"

She looked at him. Her eyes were sad and his heart went out to her, but then she said, "I'd like scrambled eggs and bacon and toast and...grits," she said with a small smile. She took another skip of wine and sat her empty glass down. Colonel strong refilled it.

"I think I can manage scrambled eggs and bacon and toast, but I might need help with the grits," he said, smiling. "Why don't you come in the kitchen with me and we'll cook together?"

"Um, okay," she said.

For the next thirty minutes, side by side, John and Denise cooked a meal. He didn't attempt to kiss her or handle her, but he made sure that he touched her several times, casually. She didn't flinch or back away. He took that as a hopeful sign.

Finally, they had plates of food, glasses of orange juice and wine, and were seated back on the couch. "Now what do I do with these?" he asked, pointing at the mound of grits on his plate.

"You put salt and pepper and butter on them," Denise explained. She put her plate down and leaned over him, preparing his grits. She sprinkled salt and pepper on them, then put a pat of butter in the middle of the pile. "There," she said. "Wait for the butter to melt, and you'll see how delicious they are."

She was very close to him now. He could feel the warmth of her slender body, smell her clean scent. She looked up at him. "Now they're ready to eat," she said. She sat back, picked up her plate, and forked some grits and eggs into her mouth.

"Are they all right?" he asked.

"They're good," she said, taking a bite of crispy bacon. She exhaled deeply again, took a drink of wine, and said, "I was hungry. I haven't eaten in a while."

"I'm glad I could help. I need you well and strong."

"I appreciate that," she said quietly.

He opened the second bottle of wine and they put a dent in t while they finished their meal. When Denise put her plate on the table, Colonel Strong noted with satisfaction that it was empty. She sighed and flopped back into the couch. She seemed more relaxed now. But she kept looking at him closely while he finished eating.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said. Then the turned serious. I've been worried about so many things lately. The peace talks. The two boys. You."

"Why me?" he asked. "I'm fine."

"I was worried that..." she said, tears coming to her eyes.

"Come here, Baby Girl. Come to Daddy," he said gently.

Denise moved into his arms. He hugged her close. He could feel her sobbing against him. "Oh Daddy, I was so worried!" she cried.

"What were you worried about, Denise?" he asked, looking into her eyes.

"I was worried that you wouldn't want me anymore!"

"He held her at arm's length and looked her in the eyes, "Why on earth would you think that?"

"Because I'm..." she broke down, sobbing, "Because I'm scarred! I'm scarred and ugly now!

John Strong could be a little rough around the edges, but he knew that that moment was a pivotal one in their relationship. He decided to meet the issue head on. He got up and walked over to Denise's reading chair. Beside it was a lamp with a strong natural light. He pulled her over to the chair and made her stand by it.

"Now, we're going to settle this right now, young lady," he said sternly. "Strip."

"What?" she said, holding her arms in front of herself.

"I said get naked, right now. Right in front of me."

"But I don't want to, Daddy. You'll think I'm ugly. I know it."

"Denise--Baby Girl, we are going to settle this right now, once and for all. Now get those clothes off, soldier!"

Reluctantly, Denise began to comply. First she undid the buttons on her pajama top. Gradually her upper torso, with her small breasts, came into view. John Strong caught his breath. She had lost weight during her convalescence. Her ribs were faintly visible and her breasts were even smaller. Denise was sniffling quietly now, tears running down her face.

"Now the bottoms," he said hoarsely.

Denise blushed, then turned pale, but she turned her back to him. He heard her unsnap the front and then the bottoms just fell off, revealing her small, though shapely, feminine butt.

"Turn around, sweetie."

When Denise turned around, her hands were covering the place where she'd been injured. She was crying now.

Colonel Strong moved her into the light. Gently, he pried her hands away.

There, on her left side, was a curved, somewhat ragged scar about five inches long. It had healed, though it still stood out pinkly against her white skin.

The Colonel inspected it closely.

"It's ugly, isn't it?" Denise asked.

John Strong looked up into her worried blue eyes and said, "Denise, I don't think it's ugly at all. As a matter of fact, I consider it a badge of honor. I couldn't be prouder of you or fine you more beautiful than I do at this very moment. He put his arms around her and pulled her close, burying his face in her skin and kissing the scar again and again. Denise put her hands on his head and pulled him tightly against her. She was crying openly now, but smiling through her tears. He still loved her! Her Colonel didn't find her ugly after all!

Colonel Strong inhaled deeply of her clean flesh. She leaned down and they kissed passionately. It was then that he noticed her penis. Up to this point it had been soft. But now, with him so close, and kissing her so warmly, it was slowly coming to life.

Oh Denise, I needed this so much! I could never find you ugly." He looked up at her and said, "You are my hero, my brave girl.'

He quickly moved to her cock, now rock-hard. He nuzzled her briefly, kissed the shaft, but couldn't help himself and took her into his mouth. Denise gasped with pleasure as Colonel Strong sucked her cock. His mouth was warm and strong. He sucked hard, moaning with pleasure as he did so.

After the initial shock of pleasure, Denise felt her knees weaken. "I need to sit down," she gasped. They moved to the couch. Colonel Strong quickly got naked himself and moved between Denise's legs, spreading them wide. Once again he kissed the scar, then the skin around her crotch, nuzzling her dark, fine pubic hair. Then he plunged down on her erect cock, taking as much as he could, reveling in her taste and feel. Denise was swept away by pleasure. She could do nothing but respond to his eager sucking. He gently kissed and sucked each one of her balls into his mouth, then returned to her penis. Before long, he could taste her salty pre-cum. He wrapped his fingers around her shaft and worked it along with his mouth, doubling her pleasure. Denise began thrusting into his mouth, moaning, "Oh yes! Oh baby!" as he devoured her.

It didn't take long for her to feel the familiar tickle. His earnest, eager mouth had worked magic. She felt the sperm gather in her balls and then, after a few more strokes from his mouth and fingers, Denise was there.

She grunted in sheer pleasure-pain as her climax overtook her. Her semen rushed through her shaft and exploded out the tip with impressive force and volume. It had been a long time. Colonel Strong was a little surprised at the amount she came, but he did his level best and swallowed every drop.

Denise spurted five, six times, and then her emission slowed to a trickle. When nothing more came, Colonel Strong reluctantly released her from his loving mouth. He laid his head on her lap. Denise played in his hair and caught her breath.

"I need you and love you, Denise. I hope you know that," he said quietly.

"Oh, I know it, John. Thank you," she replied.

Once she had somewhat recovered, she moved to get off the couch. Denise took his hand and led him into her bedroom. They fell on the bed together, kissing like they were never going to kiss again. Denise climbed on top of him, her mouth still locked to his, and began rubbing their cocks together. Her heat and smell, her taste and tongue, soon had him as hard as steel.

"Oh baby, I need to be inside you," he moaned.

"Oh, you're going to be," she replied. "I'm going to give you a little show tonight."

She leaned over and got the jar of lubricant they liked to use. Then she leaned over his penis and kissed it ardently from base to tip. She dipped two fingers into the jar and slowly coated him with it. He was so hard and so excited that his cock jumped with every beat of his heart. And he was so big! Denise was sure she'd never seen him this large before. He must really want her, she thought.

She kissed him deeply and then straddled him, but she did it with her pert little ass pointed at his chest. From this vantage point, the Colonel could see the perfect little globes of her butt and, nestled between them, her tight pinkish little butthole. He had never seen a sexier sight.

"Are you ready to put that big, hard cock in my little asshole, Colonel Daddy?"

"Oh yes, Baby Girl. Bring it on," he said hoarsely.

Denise reached her right hand around and grasped his hard, slippery dick. She guided him to the cleft between her buttocks and pushed the head against her anal opening. Then she slowly lowered herself down.

The Colonel, awash in pleasure and sensuality, watched fascinated as Denise's tight butthole slowly opened for his engorged tip. Her beautiful little starfish parted and began swallowing him. Slowly her warm, snug anus allowed his cock inside. Millimeter by millimeter, Denise's body accepted her Colonel's thick phallus.

She groaned when his head popped past the tight ring of muscle at her opening. It hurt a bit, because he was so big and hard tonight, but the pain was mixed with pleasure. She wanted him, wanted him inside her. But more important, he wanted her. Wanted to be inside her. Wanted to kiss her, to taste her, to feel her. The Colonel, her Colonel, had sucked her cock, swallowed her cum, and declared his love. And this with an ugly scar on her body. And he had called her a hero! Denise's feminine heart swelled with love and desire. Warmth spread through her. Her own cock was hard again. She relaxed completely into the moment, her anus softened, and she impaled herself fully on him.

"Oh baby!" the Colonel cried. Her body had swiftly taken him completely. The heat, the snugness, the pleasure had rushed over him like a wave. He thrust upward, burying himself to the hilt. They began moving together, he thrusting, she taking. Mingled cries of endearment, sighs, groans filled the room. The Colonel watched mesmerized as Denise's butthole opened and swallowed him over and over.

"I'm not going to be able to hold out much longer, sweetie," the Colonel managed to say.

"Neither am I, Daddy!"

She paused for a moment, and then rotated on his cock, gyrating slowly as she did so. The Colonel could feel her tight muscular anus working on him as she did so, caressing him, milking him. After a moment, she was facing him. She fell onto him and their lips locked together. Colonel Strong held her tightly to him, kissing her deeply, his tongue and his cock in her at the same time. He plunged into her over and over, his own pleasure rising to a crescendo. They were like one body, one organism now. Their bodies, like their minds and hearts, were deeply involved in every possible way. 

Denise's cock was caught between her soft belly and the Colonel's hard one. She was very hard and highly aroused. Pre-cum leaked steadily from her member and lubricated the fleshy envelope that surrounded it. Her pleasure was also rising to a peak.

"Oh Daddy, I think I'm going to cum again!" she whispered hotly.

"Go for it, Baby Girl! Spurt your cum all over Daddy's belly. Daddy's got something for you, too!

"I bet you do," Denise said, chuckling.

She covered his mouth with hers and they moved in earnest, reaching for their peak. Another few seconds of hard, determined fucking, and they both attained it. The Colonel gasped, "I'm cumming!" and thrust strongly into Denise as he emptied gob after got of hot, tortured, pleasure-laden sperm into Denise's asshole. He spurted and spurted, going on impossibly long. Finally the pleasure became too much, and he had to slow.

Denise felt his spasms inside her and suddenly her climax was upon her. For the second time that evening, she threw out a load of semen. Only this time, it landed between the two lovers, providing hot sticky lubrication and enhancing her pleasure. After a time, as with the Colonel, the pleasure got too intense and she had to stop. But she still shuddered in pleasure.

The Colonel removed his softening cock from her tired bottom. He turned on his side and she fitted herself to him. They kissed again, looking into each other's eyes.

"You love me. Real or not real?" Denise asked.

"Real," the Colonel said.

She nestled her head into his shoulder. The Colonel caressed her gently. Pretty soon her breathing deepened, evened. She was asleep. A few minutes later he was too.



The Colonel and His Aide



"I know. I just feel so responsible."

Denise turned him around and looked him in the eye. "You are responsible, Colonel. Every officer is responsible for what he does, and the lives of his men. It's just a fact of Army life."

"I know! I know! But I shouldn't have lost that battle."

"You didn't lose a battle, sir. You temporarily lost a small town, which you will take back."

"But the casualties, Baby Doll!"

"No dead. Twenty wounded, only a few seriously. No one cares more about his men than you, Colonel. Your men know it. The seriously wounded are in this hospital right now. Go see them tomorrow. Talk to them. I'm sure they'll tell you the same thing I do."

The Colonel looked up at her, his sad eyes studying her face. Then he laid his head on her breasts. Denise ran her fingers through his short hair, touched his ear, his eyes, his lips.

"Okay, I will," he said.

**

Denise pushed Colonel Strong back on the bed and crawled in beside him. Tonight, unlike the previous night, when his arm went around her slender waist, she turned to him. His hard, warm hand encircled her small but growing cock. With a little cry, Denise threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the mouth. For a good half minute, they stayed locked to each other like thirsty people getting their first drink of water. 

"I need to feel you, Baby Doll," the Colonel whispered hoarsely.

"I need to feel you too!" Denise whispered back.

In seconds she was completely naked beside him, her hard little breasts against his chest. She unbuttoned his pajama top and helped him get it off, then unsnapped his bottoms.

His rigid cock lay against his abdomen, its head purple and mushroom-shaped, its shaft thick and steel-hard. The Colonel was well-endowed. His rod was eight inches long and thick enough that Denise could barely get her fingers around it. It pulsed warmly in her hand and she bent to kiss and tongue the head. She pushed herself away reluctantly and hurriedly pulled the Colonel's pajama bottoms completely off. Both naked now, they fell into an embrace that locked lips and had their cocks jousting. After another kiss, streams of pre-cum were leaking from both the Colonel's and Denise's pricks. The Colonel pushed Denise back onto her back and began kissing her hungrily from her fragrant neck down to her excited breasts (lingering over her erect brown nipples) and then to her flat, muscled stomach.

Denise's cock was harder than it had been in a long time. Yes, she thought, she missed and needed this so much! Her Colonel, her Daddy, was an excellent, patient lover, able to bring her to heights she'd never before experienced.

Denise did not shave her pubic region bare. Instead, she left a small patch of fine, carefully manicured hair for her girl-cock to nestle in. She usually put just a drop or two of perfume in the hair—Daddy liked it. Now Daddy couldn't contain himself any further. He moved down to her crotch and began nuzzling around her exquisitely hard cock.

"Baby Doll, I have been living for this moment," he said quietly.

"Me too, Daddy! Are you going to kiss your Baby Doll?"

"Baby, I'm going to eat you up."

With that, the Colonel grasped her cock and shoved it into his mouth and began sucking it ardently. A rush of feelings washed over Denise as the Colonel sucked her. She almost came right then. Instead, she raised her head and looked at his iron-gray head bobbing up and down over her leaking cock. Denise put her slender hand on the back of the Colonel's head, urging him on. The feeling grew and grew and she stretched out beneath him, thrilling to the sensations of his mouth on her organ.

For the Colonel, if anyone had told him a year ago that he would be giving his transsexual lover/aide a passionate blowjob, he probably would have punched them in the nose. But here he was, and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. John Strong had, in the past few years, begun recognizing in himself certain feeling that he could not account for. He'd been fantasizing what certain men in the command would look like dressed and acting like women. He had imagined himself with them, doing things. Of course, he had never communicated these thoughts or feelings to anyone, especially his wife of thirty years, Kathy. He still loved his wife, and they still occasionally had sex, but sometimes when they were together, he had thought about men who became attractive women. Men with the faces and bodies of women, and the cocks of, well, men.

Then his wife had died, and he'd been alone. With no sexual outlet other than masturbation, he had simply contented himself with a fantasy life.

And then Lieutenant Denise Demure had come along. From the moment he saw her, he had been attracted to her. He wondered now, in the light of past events if he hadn't somehow known her secret. To all outward appearances, Denise was a young woman. There might have been the slightest hint of mannishness around her eyes or chin, but how many women looked completely, utterly feminine? Not that many.

So he had made certain very discreet overtures to her, and she'd been receptive, and their relationship had progressed past the professional to the personal stage. It was impossible to keep it a total secret, yet it was tolerated. Why? Probably because it was consensual, and very discreet, and because it actually increased his effectiveness in the field.

And then there was the magical moment that first night when they'd gotten together for the first time. For a few second she'd stood there in front of him, her erect cock jutting out from her slender, feminine body. That had been real fear in her eyes until he'd said, "This is a dream come true, Denise." She'd gotten into bed with him, and both had been transported.

Now, with her cock in his mouth, super-masculine John Strong considered what he was doing the same as if he were kissing the pussy of a genetic female. He loved receiving pleasure, but he also loved giving it. He loved Denise's cock in his mouth. He loved the way she responded to him, her languid sighs, her moans, her cries. He slipped a moistened finger tip into her puckered anus. She moaned louder and spread her legs widely so he could bury his finger inside.

"Oh yes Daddy!" Denise sighed.

With his other hand, the Colonel began jacking her cock gently, all the while sucking up and down, up and down. His probing finger found her prostate and lightly, gingerly, he touched it with the tip. With her pleasure coming from three sources, Denise knew she would not be able to hold out much longer. Her breathing was coming in ragged gasps, her sighs and moans almost continuous. As the pleasure built, she felt a familiar tingle begin in the pit of her stomach and spread to her sensitized crotch. On a level she wasn't conscious of, Denise felt the aching bead of semen travel up the length of her cock and burst out the end, sending her into orbit with intense, prolonged pleasure.

Three, four, five spurts of cum erupted from her cock and into the Colonel's mouth. He sucked gently but firmly, letting it collect on his tongue, before briefly taking his mouth off, swallowing it down, and sucking her in again. Hungrily, avidly, he sucked the last of her cum from her softening, sensitive cock, then crawled back up her body into her waiting arms, her mouth open to receive his tongue.

"How was that, sweetie-pie?" the Colonel asked.

"It was wonderful, Daddy! It felt so good! You're so good to me!" she replied.

They kissed again and again. The Colonel's cock was like a hot bar of steel across Denise's thighs. She pushed him back on the bed and said, "Now it's your turn."

Starting at his nipples, Denise began playfully kissing and nipping at the Colonel's hard, muscular body. He laid back and enjoyed the sensation of her warm, eager lips on his skin. Denise took her time, moving downward slowly, letting her tongue play over the various scars the Colonel had accumulated in the battles he had fought. There was a small, puckered bullet wound on his left flank, and a jagged scar caused by shrapnel on his lower right abdomen. Denise loved those scars, for they identified her man as a warrior. Now she kissed them and tongued them, showing her devotion.

She moved a little lower and now she was directly over the Colonel's cock. It pulsed slightly in rhythm with his heartbeat. The Colonel did not shave, preferring to stay "natural" down there, so his cock was surrounded by thick, slightly coarse pubic hair. Denise noticed the gray strands among the brown, the Colonel's natural color.

She could feel the heat radiating off his phallus, and she bent and nuzzled it softly, inhaling the musky, masculine scent of him. Gently, she hefted his heavy, sperm-laden balls and kissed each one reverently. It was so good to be back doing this! Denise loved her Colonel, and she loved his cock.

Without touching it with her hands, Denise began kissing and licking his wonderful cock from root to head, ending with a final, sucking kiss at the very tip.

"Do you like sucking Daddy's cock?" the Colonel asked huskily.

"No Daddy. I love it! It's been too long since I've had this monster in my mouth."

"Are you going to swallow Daddy's cum?"

"Oh yes, sir! I can hardly wait. I want all your sweet cum!"

"That's good, Baby Doll. Now suck Daddy's cock nice and deep."

Denise took as much of his hard, leaking prick into her mouth as she could, letting it bump into the back of her throat. Her eyes watered a little as she did so, but she kept it there as long as she could. The Colonel reached down and caressed her cheek, ran his finger over her lips, as if to make sure his cock was really buried halfway down her throat. She savored the warmth, the taste, the feel of his cock. A low moan escaped her. This is what I'm supposed to do, she thought contentedly. I am supposed to suck this man's cock. Suck it well and often, and then take his sperm like the special gift it is.

For his part, the Colonel was in heaven. Denise's tongue wrapped itself around the head of his cock, and traveled up and down the length. The girl sure knew how to suck a dick! In all his sixty-two years, John Strong had never known oral loving like this. He could feel every movement, every nuance of her tongue on his member. She suckled him softly and ran her nails lightly up and down the shaft. For a while she moved little, letting his cock soak in her wet mouth, while they both savored the feeling, and Denise, the sweet musky taste.

Slowly, agonizingly, Denise worked up the shaft to the head and briefly disengaged. "Good, Daddy?" she asked.

"Very good, Baby Doll," he replied.

She plunged back down on him, deep throating him, feeling his engorged head nudging the very back of her throat. She did not gag; she had trained herself long ago to take a large cock. She held her breath for as long as she could while Colonel Strong enjoyed the feel of having his yearning phallus completely captured by her wet, loving mouth.

The Colonel was completely helpless now, lost in the throes of a physical ecstasy he could barely stand. He spread his arms and legs wide in complete submission to Denise's ministrations, and urged her on quietly. "Yes!" he whispered, "Suck that big Daddy cock, girl! Daddy's got something for his little Baby Doll."

Denise heard the words only dimly, so wrapped up, so immersed was she in her task. Daddy's cock was her entire world right now, as her mouth was the Colonel's entire world. This was no ordinary blowjob, this was an act of love and reverence for the man she adored and respected above all others. Colonel John Strong was everything to Denise, and her ardent, avid, urgent sucking of his cock was one of the ways she showed him.

The Colonel began thrusting slightly. His hand was on her head. He began fucking her mouth gently, so as not to hurt her or gag her.

"I've got to cum, Baby Doll," he sobbed. "Daddy's got to cum soon."

Denise wrapped her thumb and forefinger around the base of his dick and began moving them up and down, in time with her mouth. She continued caressing his cock with her tongue, tasting the pre-cum that leaked in a steady stream.

"Mmmm," she moaned as his big, hard dick slid back and forth in her eager mouth. It was warm, and hard, and living! She loved how he responded to her.

She increased her motion a little, and the Colonel's breathing became more ragged. He was very close, now.

He had been holding out pretty well, but once Denise began moving, he had to surrender to the exquisite sensations flooding through him. His semen was going to spurt any moment, and there wasn't anything he could do about it.

Denise was firmly and rhythmically moving hand and mouth on his ready-to-burst cock. The Colonel began to feel the tingle in his groin that signaled an impending orgasm. The tingle grew and became a sweet ache that grew into a rushing unstoppable tide of intense pleasure. The tide grew and grew until it finally peaked, and the Colonel let loose a guttural cry of agonized pleasure-pain as he flooded Denise's sperm-hungry mouth with thick hot jism.

The force of his eruption surprised Denise, and she had to quickly gulp and swallow the first three powerful spurts. More, less powerful jets of cum followed, Denise gamely taking them and swallowing as best she could. They came so fast, she hardly had time to relish the taste.

When his semen stopped flowing, Denise slowly backed off his prick, sucking hard every millimeter of the way, and leaving him as clean as a whistle. She crawled up beside the Colonel and snuggled into his arms. "Oh God, I needed that," she sighed with satisfaction.

"I did, too," the Colonel said, kissing her deeply.

"Okay, big boy, it's time for sleep," Denise said. "You have a busy day tomorrow, including soldiers to visit."

She put on her t-shirt and panties and crawled in beside him. He turned off the light and soon both were asleep.

***

The next morning, Denise got up first and quickly took a shower, dressed, and carefully put on her makeup. She wrapped the bandage over the now-healing wound on his leg and helped him into the bathroom. Then she kissed him goodbye and left for the day.

Capt. Murphy was waiting for her outside the door. "How is he this morning?" 

"A bit better," Denise replied. "He wants to visit his wounded soldiers this morning."

"That's a good sign. Did he say anything about an officers' conference?"

"He doesn't think he's ready yet, but he's coming around."

"Strong work, Lieutenant. I don't know what you're doing in there, but keep on doing it," Capt. Murphy said.

Of course, Capt. Murphy knew the nature of Denise and the Colonel's relationship, but he would never make reference to it. In fact, truth be told, he wouldn't mind taking a crack at the little minx himself. But his Colonel needed her now, and so he kept his hands and his thoughts to himself.

Denise spent the morning doing paperwork and reports in front of her computer. Around midday, she received a text from Col. Strong: "Thinking of you today."

She replied, "Thinking of you, too."

In fact, tonight was the final part of her plan to bring Colonel John Strong out of his funk.

Denise spent the rest of the day preparing for the night ahead. She carefully shaved her legs, her armpits and around her pubic area. She also performed a certain cleansing ritual to make herself ready for what she hoped would be a highly sexual evening. She bathed and scented herself, and selected a dress to wear.

Around six p.m., she appeared at the Colonel's hospital room door. She was carrying a shopping bag and dressed very provocatively in a tight red dress and heels. Her hair and makeup were perfect, and the perfume she wore was called, appropriately, Justifiable Rape.

The soldiers outside the Colonel's door could hardly conceal their admiring looks when she walked up. The soldier in charge made a quick phone call, and Capt. Murphy appeared. He stopped short when he saw her, just managing to refrain from whistling.

"Err, um, very nice. I mean you look very nice, Lieutenant," he stammered.

"Thank you, sir," Denise said, licking her lips. "How did he do today?" she asked, looking into his eyes.

Capt. Murphy blushed a little and said, "Very well. He performed his physical therapy and visited his wounded soldiers."

"And how did they react to him?"

"To a man, they were glad to see him, Lieutenant. None bore him any ill will, to my knowledge, and they all seemed grateful for his visit."

"That's good, sir. Very good," Denise said. "He was worried about that."

"What are your plans for tonight?" Murphy asked. "No wait, don't tell me. Just keep doing whatever it is you're doing. We need our Colonel back, and you're helping a lot."

"Thank you, sir. I won't let you down," Denise said. "I'll make sure he stays up...I mean, I'll make sure his mood stays up." This time it was Denise's turn to blush.

Murphy reddened as well. "Err, umm, yes. Well, good night, Lieutenant," he said and walked off.

Denise opened the door and entered the room. Colonel Strong was sitting in a chair in combat fatigues, watching a news report about the insurgency.

"I think it's time I got back into this fight," Strong said without looking at her. When he turned to look at her, his eyes widened. "My my, Denise, you look beautiful."

"Thank you, Colonel," she said with a little curtsey. "I brought some wine and cheese, and some bread. I thought we might have a light dinner tonight."

The Colonel turned off the TV and looked at her admiringly. "Good idea, Baby Doll."

Denise padded over to him, knelt in front of him, her pretty face only inches from his crotch, and began unlacing his boots. "Let's make you comfortable, sir."

She removed his boots, then had him stand while, still kneeling, she unbuckled his belt and slipped down his trousers. The Colonel favored tightie-whities over boxers, and the bulge from his stiffening erection was becoming apparent. For just a second, Denise's gaze lingered on his thick manhood, outlined in clean white cotton.

Denise was also getting excited, and as she was commando underneath the dress, the head of her own cock was starting to poke out a little in front.

Denise walked behind the Colonel and removed his tunic, and then she massaged his taut, strong shoulders a little. She loved his muscles, the erect way he carried himself, and the way he smelled. Colonel Strong wore Old Spice, same as her father, and the scent excited her, make her feel happy and relaxed, and horny. She picked up his dressing gown from the bed and helped him into it. As she did so, the Colonel pulled her to him and kissed her hard on the lips. Denise's arms went around his neck and she kissed him back fiercely. She felt her heart melting within her, and her cock stiffening more. The Colonel reached around and grabbed her petite, firm butt cheek and gave it a solid squeeze, a rough intimate caress that said, "You are mine."

She broke the kiss and said huskily, "Sir, why don't you open the wine while I change?"

The Colonel got out the corkscrew and began working on the bottle while Denise ducked into the bathroom, shopping bag in hand.

Inside, she quickly got out of the dress and changed into a pale blue, shortie nightgown and matching ruffled panties. Her dark-nippled breasts showed clearly through the sheer material, and her stiff cock was barely contained by the thin material of the panties. Denise checked her makeup and renewed her perfume, just a touch, then went back out.

Colonel Strong had two glasses of wine poured, and the cheese and bread laid out on the table. There were also smoked oysters, his favorite.

When he saw her, he stopped and stared for a few moments. 

"Do I look all right?" she asked, pirouetting for him.




The Colonel and His Aide



"You are a vision, Baby Doll," he said quietly.

She padded over to him on bare feet—her toenails carefully painted red, and sat down beside him on the bed. Colonel Strong handed her a glass of wine. They clinked glasses, and drank. The wine was delicious, dry and full-bodied, with hints of blackberries and the earth from which the grapes grew. Denise sat close beside the Colonel, feeling his warmth and strength, reveling in his closeness. He spread a little soft cheese on some bread and fed her. She put an oyster on a cracker, and gave it to him. They ate quietly, with little talk, savoring the intimate moment.

When all of the wine and most of the food was gone, Denise lay back lazily on the bed and held out her arms. "Come here, Daddy, and kiss me."

The Colonel went eagerly into her arms and began kissing her all over: her mouth, neck, breasts, inhaling her scent, immersing himself in her sweet femininity. Denise responded ardently to his kisses, running her fingers through his close-cropped hair, caressing his neck, bending to him.

The Colonel reached into her panties and grasped her now-rigid cock with a strong warm hand, squeezing it and jerking it a little just like she liked it. His mouth found hers again and Denise gasped as his kiss and his gentle yet firm handling of her cock nearly drove her over the edge.

"Oh Daddy, I have...I have to get naked now!" she moaned urgently.

They both quickly undressed, then fell back together on the bed. The Colonel's cock was a thick, hard, tubular slab of dripping man-meat. Denise grasped it, hard, and slid up and down its hot length.

"Daddy, are you going to make love to me tonight?" she asked in her sweetest little girl voice.

"No, Baby Doll. Tonight, I'm going to fuck you to pieces," he said hoarsely.

"Oh good," she sighed. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Denise worked her way down the Colonel's body until she reached his cock. This was her prize! She loved this cock, and the man who owned it, more than anything in her world. She nuzzled it, inhaling its scent, and kissed the stout pole from root to tip before engulfing the purplish mushroom head with her wet warm mouth. The Colonel grunted in pleasure, thrusting at her, trying to get more into her. Denise circled its girth with thumb and forefinger, jacking him in sequence with loving sucks from her mouth, ratcheting Colonel's Strong's pleasure to almost unbearable heights.

Too soon, she felt his strong gentle hand pulling her off him. His cock came out of her mouth with a gentle pop as it broke the suction.

"Lube me up, Baby Doll, then get on your hands and knees. Hurry now!" he ordered.

Denise quickly got the tube of lubricant and knelt in front of him. They both trembled with eagerness as she applied a thin coat of the lube to his hot, hard phallus. She smiled happily, thinking how good it was going to feel buried in her sweet ass.

That afternoon, at her apartment, Denise had given herself a cleansing enema to make sure she would be ready to receive the Colonel's thrusts. Her anus was clean and sweet as a result. This was all the more important because the Colonel also liked to use his mouth on her down there as well.

When he was completely coated, Denise turned around and presented her smooth, perfectly shaped ass and dainty little butthole to him. Colonel Strong gazed eagerly at the object of his lust. Denise took very good care of her skin—no pimples, marks, discoloration. Her skin was as smooth as, well, as smooth as a baby's bottom. Her asshole was dark pinkish-brown, and crinkled perfectly. As he looked, it twitched slightly, as if inviting him inside.

But John Strong wasn't quite ready to put his cock into that inviting hole just yet. Instead, he bent down and began softly kissing the skin and crinkled area around her anus ardently. As he did so, his cock began leaking "widow's tears" of clear pre-cum. He rimmed Denise thoroughly, to her pleasured sighs, then plunged his tongue inside her wet, receptive butthole. Denise adjusted slightly, moving her legs wider apart, opening herself up more, and his tongue slid in further. The Colonel licked her completely, inside and out, tasting and relishing her sweet, womanly musk. To him, Denise tasted and smelled like cinnamon.

When she was wet and very aroused, the Colonel straightened up and, his penis jutting in front of him, moved in a little closer.

Denise felt his movement and knew what was coming next. She put her face down on the mattress and wiggled her ass at him in invitation.

"Are you ready for Daddy, Baby Doll?" he asked.

"Oh yes, yes Daddy! Please fuck me hard!"

John Strong placed the flaring head of his cock on her anus and pushed slowly in. Denise was tight—it had been a while since they'd fucked. But gradually, she opened for him. She concentrated on taking deep breaths. She held her breath and pushed back, and her anus opened slightly. The head of his cock popped smoothly past the tight ring of muscle at the opening. His well-lubricated cock slid into her and her warm channel closed on his shaft.

"How's that, Baby Doll? Too fast?"

"No, no. Just hold for a second, Daddy, while I get used to it. You are a big man."

Wonderful sensations flooded both of them. Denise loved the feeling of being filled to bursting with her Colonel's cock. It was so close, so intimate, and that was what she craved. The Colonel loved the feeling of Denise's mouth on his cock, but nothing compared to her tight, smooth asshole. Grasping her by the hips, he thrust gently forward, burying himself to the hilt.

"Baby, that is fine," he said hoarsely. "I do love fucking you, Denise. I truly do."

He began thrusting inside her, working his cock strongly in and out of her stretched-to-the-limit bunghole. With each thrust, Denise went, "Oof!" so that their love song was a symphony of oofs, masculine grunts, whispered urgent endearments, and cries of "Harder, deeper!"

The Colonel moved in close, working his cock deeply in and out, thrusting and grinding. "Okay, let's go down, Baby," he said, and they both lay down, his dick still buried in her. In this position, he could reach around and stroke her cock while he fucked her.

Denise was in heaven. She was wrapped up in her man's arms, his cock deeply inside her, his hand on her cock, jacking her as they fucked.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she cried as the Colonel slammed her, his balls slapping against her ass. He withdrew a little, worked just the head in and out, then plunged in again. This he did several times, until announcing in a ragged voice, "Oh Baby Doll, Daddy's gonna cum very soon. Gonna cum in that sweet little ass of yours. Are you ready for his cream?"

"Give it to me, Daddy!"

Denise was almost out of her mind with pleasure. The Colonel's hand worked steadily on her cock, and her own climax drew near.

"Are you going to cum for Daddy?"

"Oh Yes Daddy! I'm cumming just for you."

She was very, very close. Just a few more strokes from the Colonel's hand would do it.

"Let me feel your warm cum, Baby Doll," the Colonel begged.

And just like that, her climax was upon her. "Here it comes, Daddy!" Denise cried.

A flood of warm semen burst from Denise's cock, the strong jets spraying streams of sperm everywhere. Denise grunted and squealed in delight as her cum erupted from her cock. Four, five, six healthy spurts, and her semen was everywhere: on the sheets, the pillow, her belly and breasts, even on her face.

The Colonel let go of her cock and grabbed her hips again, thrusting strongly, working for his own release. A few more strokes and he cried out, "Ungh! Ungh!" and his rhythm became ragged as a flood of hot thick jism gushed from his cock and filled Denise's waiting asshole.

He pumped a few more times, then lay still, breathing heavily. He slowly pulled out and lay on his back. Denise immediately turned and cuddled up close to him. She felt a little of her Colonel's precious cum leak out of her but clamped down tight. She didn't want to lose any of him.

The Colonel wrapped her up in his arms and kissed her.

"How was it?" she asked.

"It was wonderful, Baby Doll. Just what I needed."

"I'm so glad, Colonel Daddy," she said.

They covered up and drifted off to sleep, but the Colonel woke up twice during the night. Each time, he took her sweet asshole again, so that, when it was time to get up, Denise was carrying three good-sized loads of sperm in her rectum.

At six-thirty, the alarm went off. Denise, lying naked and covered with her own semen and the Colonel's scent, opened her eyes.

The Colonel stood in front of the mirror, combing his hair. He was fully dressed in starched fatigues and shined boots.

Denise stretched languorously in bed, enjoying the sensations coursing through her body and mind. "Good morning, "she said sleepily.

Colonel John Strong turned to her and smiled. "Good morning, soldier," he said.

He came over and sat down on the bed beside her. They kissed, Denise raising up to meet him halfway. "Time for reveille," he said, slapping her ass and getting up. He grabbed his hat and said, "I'll see you in the office at eight. Right now I have a breakfast meeting with my officers. I've scheduled a battle planning conference today. I'll need you there." He smiled once more and left.

Denise grinned happily to herself. Her Colonel was back!



The Colonel Ch. 02



"Make me hard again, Bitch." I sank to my knees once more, and he grabbed my hair in one hand and wiped his cockhead over my face with the other, smearing me with pre-cum. I opened my mouth and tried to suck him in, but he sneered, "Look at you. You're a big, cock-hungry slut now. You want to swallow another load don't you?" and he pulled his hardened cock away. "Turn around."

Still on my knees, I shuffled around in an About-Face. He shoved me, and I fell to all fours. He pulled my ass toward him and gripped the back of my neck, pushing until my face pressed against the damp wooden floor. Ohmigod, no!! He's going to fuck me, the ultimate humiliation! How will I ever get over this?? He spit in his hand, and I trembled. Oh God, he's slicking his cock! Sure enough, the big, bulbous head pressed against my a-hole, and with hands on both my hips, he slowly forced his manhood into me.

Jesus, Mary, Joseph! HELP! Overwhelming sensations! -- pain of penetration, fear my guts would be torn open, a case of major regret ... and the fullness, the hugeness, the wondrous, terrible majesty of him as he pressed himself into me. In spite of the pain, my heart beat fast as the gigantic spear spread me, opened me, liberated me into a new existence—and finally his balls bumped against mine. He was in. I was fucked. I can never go back from this. I am ... no longer a virgin. He took my cherry!

And the pain was titanic. I almost passed out. 

The master fucker knew what he was doing, though. He paused for a long time as my asshole and tortured tunnel gradually accustomed to the giant invader. He wanted me to love it, the bastard, and not exactly against my will, I slowly began to relax, and again he knew and began to pump his meat slowly in and out. The pain lessened, and I was amazed. My god, it really DOES feel good to get fucked! Who knew?? The pleasure increased to the point that I not only enjoyed it, I craved it. Nothing had ever been in my ass before except a doctor checking my prostate, so I had no idea fucking could feel so good. With each thrust of his cock, my own twitched with a wonderful pleasure. I was dizzy, lightheaded. 

I had never been so humiliated, but physically never felt so good. Gradually I began to meet his thrusts, and he grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. "You like that, don't you bitch? Found your proper rank, haven't you?"

What? He knows I'm military? Goddamn, when he finishes fucking me, I'm going to court martial this smart-ass! But the thrusts continued in that gentle rhythm, shortening his strokes until his cock, buried deep in my ass, moved only about two inches in and out—but those two inches hit right where I needed it most. God, what a pro! He's playing me like a cello! 

I was right on the edge of no return, surfing toward a blazing sunset on the delicious, sensual wave of his manhood—as it taught me about mine. His husky breathing told me he was close, too. "Tell me what you want, Bitch. You like fucking now? " 

I was so close to cumming, I couldn't stop myself, "Oh God, yes—I love it—don't stop," I croaked. "Fuck me! Fuck my ass! Do it!" Jesus Christ, man, get a grip on yourself! You're a Special Forces officer!!


"Yeah," he crowed, "beg me for it," and his hips picked up the pace, thrusting deep, mighty lunges. Raped by a man! And it feels better than any woman! He moved his hands to my hips, building up to a thrusting crescendo, jolting my whole body with every mighty slam. With a final ram (I swear he crammed it all the way up to the back of my throat), he let out a long, loud groan and unloaded his sperm deep inside me. 

That did it. With a roaring in my ears, every muscle in my body flexed as hard as it could—and I came longer and harder than I ever had. My cum hit the floor, splattered up across my chest, and even hit my throat and chin. And I haven't even touched myself!! Oh, God, the bastard's driven me over the edge by fucking me! Floating on a cloud of bliss, I relaxed and slid forward, but he held onto my hips and kept me up while he pumped the last of his seed into me, breeding me, fertilizing me as his bitch.

Finally finished, he shoved me forward, and I collapsed face-down in a heap, my sweats around my ankles, his cum leaking out of my ass, lying in my own jism. I lay there trembling with the aftershocks of cumming, wondering what would happen next. When my heart finally stopped pounding and my breathing returned to normal, I pulled myself up and looked back, exhausted but—got to admit it—ready for anything else he wanted to do. But he was gone. 

I sat there for a long time, the taste of his cum in my mouth, my ass burning from the fullness of his cock. Then I stood up, pulled up my sweatpants, and stumbled back to my car. 


That haunted me for days. I had sucked the man's cock, and he had fucked me in the ass. But gradually I came to think I could forget it. It was just a momentary dalliance. I wasn't gay. I was a fucking Green Beret!

On a more serious note, there had been no witnesses. If the sonofabitch ever tried to blackmail me, I would turn the tables on him and court martial him on some trumped-up excuse. I was safe. Life would return to normal. I would make it normal again. 

A week or so later, I pulled up to the house after a hard day's work. My wife was gone—downtown shopping, probably. The house was empty. I figured my son Paul was down at the recreation building. He still lived at home, turned 22 a few months earlier, just finished college, and was about to enlist in the Army just like his old man. He was a big boy during his school years, and since then, preparing for Basic Training, he had started working out at the base gym. 

Life was going just fine. I leaned back against the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee and smiled. My father would have been proud of me. He was a poor Utah sheepherder, never able to keep up with his bills. I had made it in the Army. I had risen to the top. When I retired, I would live comfortably for the rest of my life.

I thought about my wife. Fine woman. A good friend. Over the years our sex life had atrophied, though. It just wasn't that fun any more. She didn't seem to want it, and that was lucky—I could hardly get it up for her. But we were comfortable together.

Then I thought about the man in the latrine. Damn, what an experience. I hadn't been that horny in years! I thought my libido had dried up. But with a man!! I took a gulp of coffee. I had to admit it. He turned me on like Karen hadn't in many years. And the feel of his cock in my ass! Is that what a woman feels? I took a deep breath. It's wonderful.

I was just taking another drink of coffee when I heard the door open, and Paul walked in with a big companion. God in Heaven, the guy! He was wearing the same Army PT uniform—white tee shirt and black boxer shorts. Oh, Jesus, he must've met Paul at the rec center! My mind went 1,000 miles an hour, but I couldn't stop myself from adding, He's still a handsome stud. Still got those bright blue eyes. "Hi, Dad," Paul said. "This is Private Dovis." 

Finally, the name and rank: Private Dovis. 

And now he knew I was a lieutenant colonel--if Paul hadn't told him, my name and rank were on the name-plate by the door. Dovis smiled, and his whole face lit up. "Hello, sir, I've been showing Paul the Army callisthenic routines." Not the slightest sign of recognition. Oh, shit, maybe I'm lucky. Maybe he doesn't remember me. I smiled back. Paul said they were going to his room to watch some football videos. 

When they were gone, I was trembling so much, I had to put down the coffee cup. My head was spinning, and worse, a hardon nudged against the inside of my boxers. Not knowing what else to do, I puttered in the kitchen, trying to make myself a sandwich, nervous as a cat. Karen never did this to me.

About a half-hour later, I heard a yell from Paul's room. I listened, but then everything was silent. A few minutes later I heard it again. I got up and went to investigate. The door was closed; I stood listening. 

I heard muffled sounds. A loud groan. A sigh. Instantly I was back in the latrine. The man let out a loud groan as his boiling elixir gushed up into me, and in fucking heaven as I discovered his cock could drive me to orgasm, I sighed. Same sounds.

I knocked on the door. "Paul? Everything okay in there?"


Paul answered in a raspy voice that everything was fine. Not sure, I turned to leave, but I heard another groan ... and a loud grunt. What in hell is going on??

I grabbed the doorknob and opened the door—and gulped at the sight. Private Dovis was completely naked, standing behind an equally nude Paul, and Dovis's cock was buried deep in Paul's ass. Oh, God, just like he did to me!!

Dovis looked around at me with a smile, his huge cock pumping in and out of Paul, his muscular ass-cheeks dimpled and hard—and didn't stop those piledriving hips. Outraged, I walked into the room. Paul didn't see me: he was on his hands and knees, bent over, his ass raised in the air. 

The sonofabitch bastard is fucking my son!! I was furious and about to start yelling when suddenly, incredibly, I found myself staring at Dovis's cock (the biggest one I had ever seen), the cock that had tamed me a few days earlier. Paul's bobbing head was facing down into the pillow. Only Dovis bored into me with those steely blue eyes—and again I was speechless. I just stood watching—hesitating again. 

Do something! Dammit, DO something!! But I couldn't take my eyes off Dovis's long cock. God it was huge! I remembered the bliss of it plowing my ass, and as I watched it ramming my son, I yearned. My god, you stupid bastard, you're jealous! 

I licked my lips. Moisture surrounded the huge log as it sawed into Paul--Damn, it's so fucking thick! How does it fit in that little hole?? My son's asshole was a huge 'O' around the giant cock, his asslips sinking in and pulling out as the big stud's hips lunged forward and back. Did my asshole look like that? Dovis used long and steady strokes, his balls slapping Paul's butt with every thrust. A slurping, squishing noise filled the room, and I smelled sex, the hot, smarmy, sweaty aroma of male arousal, the sweetish stench of a lubricated asshole, and the Cloroxy perfume of cum.

As much as I knew I should be outraged, I couldn't stop watching. I know how that feels! I was breathing harder. Feeling that big thing deep in my guts again. Feeling that hot, sticky come up my ass once more. My cock rose in my pants, and Dovis sneered, knowing I couldn't stop them. He nodded toward the bulge in my crotch. "You like what you see, don't you, sir," (it was not a question) and I looked down at the growing tent in my fatigues. 

Paul raised his head and looked back. "Oh, God, Dad..." he gasped and tried to get up, but Dovis held him down, still kept thrusting in and out. My son looked young, hard, and athletic—taking it like a man. I was proud. I also admired the masterful prowess of the big stud fucking him. What a male! 

"You'd like to have a hard cock in your ass, wouldn't you—Sir Bitch?" 

The bastard, how dare he ask me such a question with my son here?? But I was speechless. What could I say? 

"Well, Bitch? Do you want to do it again?"

Thunder rumbled in my head, and I was dizzy. I mumbled something, I don't know what, and stepped closer to the two of them. Dovis smiled, still lunging his cock in and out of Paul with a sucking, slurping sound. Paul looked back, his eyes round as saucers. "Nice bulge, Colonel," Dovis said. "It looks like it needs some help. Take your pants down, Bitch," he ordered, "and let me see your cock."

Paul's eyes grew even wider, and his mouth dropped open. I panicked inside, but I was helpless. I didn't want to—I swear I fought with everything I had—but my hands dropped to my belt, unfastened it, and pulled open my fatigue pants. I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my boxers, and with one motion I shucked them both down to my boot-tops. "God, Dad!" Paul hissed. 

My dong stuck out like a steel pipe, throbbing, eager, drooling pre-cum in long, silvery strings. "Good," Dovis murmured. "The Bitch has learned to obey. Now come here and feel my cock fucking your son's ass." 

Don't do this! What the fuck are you doing?? STOP!!—but I couldn't stop! My hand reached out, gripped Dovis's glorious manhood, and my fingers ringed around the pistoning shaft--or tried to. Sonofabitch! I was amazed every time. I couldn't believe it. My fingers would not close around the huge dong. But they thrilled to all the bumps and serpentines of the veins around it, the huge tube underneath the shaft, and the great vein along the top. It was slimy from whatever lube they were using, Paul's inner juices, and from Dovis's pre-cum. I wanted to lick it.

Dovis reached down and rubbed his hand over the bulge in my pants, testing my hardness. I couldn't move: I was his. No, you're not! Stop this! This is a goddamned kid, and he is fucking your son! You are a 50-year-old Army officer, a lieutenant colonel, for god's sake, and this is an OUTRAGE! 

But I couldn't do a thing. I was breathless. Dovis was the only man who ever touched me there ... and I loved his touch. It was familiar, pleasurable, welcome. I was a dog petted by its owner. Paul stared over his shoulder at me, astonished—his father was submitting. 

Yes, my dong throbbed, and I had slipped again under Dovis's control. No, I'm not! I'm not under his control! But something about his sweating body and that commanding dong, plowing my son in and out, overran any hesitations. I wanted to get naked with them. 

Paul's face was a mask of astonishment. "Dad," he hissed, "Dad, what are you doing??" His father, his own father was overpowered by Dovis's sexuality (just as Paul himself had been), and his own father was letting a complete stranger grope his crotch. And his father's fingers were ringing, gripping, sliding along the cock that fucked his own son. 

I was too far gone. I groaned at Dovis's touch, so sensual and soft but yet so manly. I had long passed the point of no return. While both men looked at me, I pulled open my fatigue blouse and threw it to the floor, gripped both sides of my tee shirt and yanked it over my head, then sat back into the bedroom chair and feverishly loosened my boots and kicked them off. Stepping out of my pants and underwear, I stood up and moved back to Dovis, wearing nothing but my socks, and I spread my legs to let him run his hand under my balls again. He cupped them and squeezed them lightly before coming back to my cock. 

"You're pretty big, Sir Bitch," Dovis said, smiling. I glowed at the compliment, but my eyes were still glued to the majestic shaft sliding in and out of my son. I reached out to circle it again as best I could with my fingers, and as I did, Dovis reached under and ran his finger up my crack. Oh, yeah, yeah! He found my hole and pressed against it, and I gritted my teeth in pleasure. "I'm going to enjoy this," he said, smiling. "Fucking the son and then his father."

"Dad," Paul squeaked, "you ... you going to let him fuck you??..."


Oh, my God, I suddenly realized, it's true! He's going to fuck me right in front of my son!" Dovis had complete control of Paul—his big cock owned Paul. But you are already his property, his bitch. I hoped somehow to keep that secret from Paul, but Dovis growled, "Tell him."

I said nothing.

"I said tell him," Dovis growled, and he pulled himself out of Paul with a slurping, sucking sound.

I looked down at Paul and muttered, "He's already fucked me." Paul stared. I looked back at Dovis's hard cock, sticking straight out at me, all wet and slimy. 

"Now wrap your lips around this again and feel what's going to be in your ass in a few minutes," he said. Like a slave, I dropped to my knees. Paul gasped, rolled over, and stared down at me. I opened my mouth and reached out to wrap my fist—almost—around Dovis's cock, pulling it toward me, my head spinning. Didn't realize he had a foreskin when I sucked him in the latrine (he had pulled it back before grabbing me). As I pulled him toward my face, the sexy hood slid over the head.

My mouth in a gigantic 'O', I moved his big dong between my jaws, and with my tongue, I stripped back that exotic, sinuous foreskin. Yeah! A big cock in my mouth! I couldn't deny it. I want to go all the way—I want him to fuck me. I want him to fuck me again! I closed my eyes, enjoying a vision of Dovis mounting me. Mounting me like a bitch crouching before him. Mounting me, his cock-hungry slave and fucking me with long, hard thrusts. This man had fucked me before. And I wanted it again.

A drunken cocksucker, I raised my eyes to Dovis's, and his blue eyes cut into me like laser beams. The man could turn me into a human forest fire. Dovis sneered, pulled out his cock, and lifted me to my feet.

Before I knew it, his lips were pressed against mine, and instantly I pressed my mouth back against his, opening my lips, snaking out my tongue to sword-fight with his. I couldn't hold back a groan of total manly pleasure.

"Dad!" Paul hissed, "Jesus Christ, Dad!"

TO BE CONTINUED



The Colonel Ch. 03



For an instant, I could think clearly: What the fuck have you let yourself in for, man?? Your mouth is in a big 'O', a man's cock is down your throat (the same cock that fucked you on the jogging trail), and you just caught the guy in your house using that cock to fuck your son!

It's true, damn, it's true. I clenched my eyes shut in shame. Have to admit it: I want the sonofabitch to fuck me. Again. I closed my eyes and saw it all: Mounting me like a bitch, his cock-hungry slave, skewering me, roasting me on that big, hard spit. Oh, yeah, he fucked me before. And I want it again.

While my own son lay on his bed, his asshole dilated from the reaming I just interrupted, staring at us with astonished eyes, Private Dovis's mouth moved to claim mine, and when he kissed me, I pressed my mouth back against his, opening my lips, snaking out my tongue to the sword-fight. "Dad!" Paul hissed, "Jesus Christ, Dad!".

We pulled each other into a powerful embrace, our cocks pressed together. As I lost control, Dovis's hands slid down to cup my buttocks and pull me even closer. I had kissed this man once before, back in the jogging trail latrine, but here, now, with my naked son staring at us—I was going out of my mind, almost losing consciousness. Never had such a hot kiss, not even from my wife. Somehow Dovis poured molten lava all over me. I was a flaming torch, and he was in control. In charge.

Dovis, not I, finally broke the kiss, also breaking through my last objections. I sank to my knees, where the magnificent shaft bobbed in front of my face. "Dad!" Paul hissed, "what in hell..." But I wanted that thing more than anything in my life. I had to suck it! I had to gulp it down my throat! I was dying to suckle on that thing, that great master cock! I worshipped it. I bent forward, opened my mouth as wide as I could, and moaned as the glorious knob passed between my bowed jaws.

I swear to God it was like 120-proof vodka—I was instantly drunk. Dovis moaned low as I gulped my way down his shaft, finally gargling it past the back of my throat, determined to deep-throat that big scepter down to his cockhairs. Barely breathing, snorting through my nose, I made it: man-cock down my throat all the way to my belly. And I loved it. 

After a lifetime of being straight, I was a real man!

Dovis started lurching his hips, and I pulled back, the better to let him fuck my face. Glorious. I licked and sucked, and Dovis, already pumped up from fucking Paul, soon grabbed my hair and jammed my face against his crotch. "Yeah," he yelped, and a rush of hot, tangy slime gushed down my throat and filled my mouth. I gulped and swallowed, but excess spurted from the sides of my mouth.

"Jesus Christ," Paul muttered, almost to himself, "jizz in your mouth, Dad!" Oh, fuck, I'm sucking the man's cock right in front of my own son! But I kept on sucking and swallowing. Couldn't help it. I loved it.

When Dovis finally pulled out and stepped back, leaving me a kneeling, panting servant, I wiped his jism from the sides of my mouth and my chin—and licked it off my fingers. Seeing Paul staring at me, I was suddenly ashamed.

And I knew it wasn't over. 

Sure enough, ""Lay down beside Paul, Bitch, and spread your legs wide open." And there it was, the ultimate humiliation. 

Not quite ashamed enough not to obey, I crawled onto the bed beside Paul, on my hands and knees, a Special Forces lieutenant-colonel, a 50-year-old man about to submit himself to a teenager! But that teenager had the most hypnotic cock I had ever seen.

"Dad," Paul hissed, his eyes wide in wonder, "you sucked his cock!" 

I couldn't answer. What could I say?

"And he's fucked you before?"

Still sweating and breathing hard. I bowed my head. "His cock," I grunted, my voice hoarse and gravelly. "You know what it's like. I gotta have it."

Then it got worse. "Paul," Dovis commanded, "get between his legs and lick his asshole. Make it nice and wet for me."

Oh, shit! Somehow I thought that if Paul and I didn't touch each other, I would not be guilty of incest with my own son. But Paul did as Dovis told him, and chills ran up my back as my son's tongue slithered through my crack, the tip probing at my hole. 

Another first! Never been rimmed before! God!! Paul licked and sucked, the warm, wet swipes were electric shocks from my asshole to my balls, and I soared into another world, a world of wanton, drunken lust, a foreign world, a strange, eerie world. 

Again, I wanted more; I couldn't stop myself--I reached back to hold my buttocks open for him, and my son's tongue wriggled in deeper. When he stuck a finger against the hole, my eyes opened wide, and when my ass-ring spread open for him, I gnawed into the pillow in a roar of lust. Oh, my God, finger-fucked by my own son! I had no pain—already opened by the Royal Cock—so Paul's finger was a delicious, minor-invasion tease. 

Then I heard The Voice: "Ok, let me fuck him." I looked back as Dovis shoved Paul aside. Grabbing my legs, he rolled me onto my back, then lifted my ankles up over my head. I was helpless. Available. I looked down to see the big cock coming toward me, and I saw the troll's giant battering ram attacking the city gate in "The Lord of the Rings." 

But he didn't batter me. The big cockhead grazed my hole, teasing it, winding me tight inside. This is it! I groaned. "Do it, man, do it!" Dovis's eyes burned into me as he kept wiping his dick up and down my crack, wetting it with Paul's saliva. He knew me better than I knew myself, the bastard. 

After a couple of minutes of cock nudges, he had me hot and panting, and his predator's eyes held me still as finally, wonderfully, tearing a long groan of grateful ecstasy from me, he pushed that big dong against my pucker, and—like before--my hole gave way suddenly, popping the head inside me. The honored guest had slipped under the red velvet rope at the Whiskey a Go-Go! He's in! It's in me! I'm fucked! The man is fucking me again!

A pain spread from my spreading asshole but nothing like the first time. In fact, the pain was a hot, fiery salsa to the growing ecstasy spreading from my hole. I rolled my head back, my eyes closed, my mouth open in drunken joy. I was helpless and loved it. 

Dovis sank in further. How do you feel, you stupid motherfucker! You've turned yourself into a cock-slut right in front of your own son!

But the man is a fucker, a Master Fucker! I want him to ram that thing up my ass until I feel it in the back of my throat! 

Not going slow like before, Dovis kept shoving until he finally sheathed himself to the balls in me. Then he stopped, holding himself against my groin, leaning down to bite at my nipples. The rolling tide of orgasm started in my balls. God, this is great! A big male rolling me up into a helpless ball, his giant cock gouging into me. 

"You're a Green Beret colonel, Bitch," Dovis growled low. "What do you want, Bitch?"

"Do it!" I yelped. "Fuck me! Fuck me hard!" He pulled out, then thrust forward again, the thickness filling my canal, thrilling me again as it slid up to the hilt. That time he didn't stop but withdrew immediately, starting the wondrous pumping again.

"C'mere, Paul," Dovis ordered, "give him your cock to suck." 

Oh, no, not that! But before I knew it, the familiar touch of manmeat bobbled at my lips, and I automatically opened wide to let it in. "Oh, Dad," Paul sighed, and he sank his cock into his father's mouth and down his throat.

From both ends at once! Dovis's cock slid in and out of my ass, and the very idea of my own son's throbbing member filling my mouth drove me crazy. I gripped the sheets in trembling fists. I am theirs. They're taking me! Yeah! Make me! Males! God, I love 'em! 

I imagined myself floating up near the ceiling, looking down at us, a muscular young man mounted on a rolled-up, sweating gray-haired man. The young man's muscular back, wet and shiny with sweat, heaved and flexed, his hips and his tight, compact butt jabbing, skewering the trembling older body with his huge cock. An even younger man jabbed at the old mouth with his hard poker. I love this! I will never stop! 

Dovis brought me back to earth when he gripped my balls. Agh! It hurt! But I was astonished. The pain melted into the roaring fire of my growing orgasm, and my eyes closed in pleasure. When I opened them again, Dovis smiled grimly. He knew, and I knew down to the bottom of those balls crushed in his fist, that I was his. Whenever and wherever he wanted me. 

And Paul? No, I could never refuse him, either. Oh, no, just a fucking minute! I'm the goddamned colonel here, and I am twice the age of this fucking kid! And I'm the other kid's fucking FATHER! But my own cock throbbed hot and hard as an iron bar, pounding like my thundering heart.

Dovis sped up a bit, his balls slapping against my ass with every thrust. Dizzy, I writhed between the two men, completely in their control. Young Paul, a typical, hot teenager, couldn't hold back, and with a boiling gush, his jism surged down my throat. Good. Thick. Virile. I glowed with a strange pride and licked at his dick as he pulled it out.

"Fuck, you are tight, Bitch--" Dovis grunted—"...fuckin' tight hole!" I didn't know if that was a compliment or not, but it didn't matter. 

"Fuck me," I gasped. "Big cock! Go deep! Go hard! Fuck me!" My son watched us intently, his dong hanging handsomely over his balls. His own father was becoming a fuck-slave. I couldn't care. Not then. All I wanted was to be fucked.

"Damn, you do enjoy this, don't you, Bitch?" Dovis pumped the full, huge, hole-stretching length into me again and again. "Never thought you would enjoy a cock in your ass, did you?"

Out of this world. Out-of-body experience. "Yeah," I gasped, "Oh yeah, that's it. Pump me!" I looked up, into those furnace-eyes. "Cum in me! Cum in me! DO IT!"

His eyes clenched shut. "Oh, yeah, take it, Bitch," and I felt him grow even fatter, painfully, wonderfully huge inside me. Boiling surges of sperm geysered deep, warming my belly, and he held tight against my ass, lunging short, jabbing thrusts. Filled up with his load, I felt wet, dripping slithers leaking out of my rectum, spurting back out beside his cock, marking me his bitch.

This his climax spread to me, and a motherfucker of an orgasm it was. It swept over me, raging through my muscles, and my head filled with the roar of a pipe organ at full, screaming crescendo. My cock sprayed huge jets of cum all over my chest, all the way up to my chin and neck—and Sonofabitch, I have not even touched myself!! I think I blacked out for a moment from such intense ecstasy, half-consciously floating in an ocean of hot, white slime. A giant cock skewered me completely, jutting through my asshole and sticking out of my mouth.

God, it lasted a long time! I don't know about Dovis, but I reveled in fiery ecstasy for what felt like five minutes. Never, NEVER had I gone through such an orgasm! Never! Not with any woman! Sweating like a longshoreman and panting like I'd run five miles, I fell back limp as a rag. His cock is still inside you! Owning you. Stretching your asshole. Pinning you to the bed. 

I floated back to full consciousness as Dovis's lunges slowed, his orgasm winding down. His big organ kept me at a slow boil as I cooked through the afterglow of that mind-blower of an orgasm. When Dovis pulled back, his cock slid out of me with a wet, juicy, slurp, and cum gushed in coagulated globs down my still wide-open legs. As I slowly lowered them, he looked at me and then at Paul. "You want a try, stud? He's wide open for you, Paul. Fuck his ass."

Oh, wait! No, not that! Not my own son!! But too fucked-out to move, I could only watch Paul and Dovis change places. Then—Ohmigod!!— my son's cock slid up into my ass. 

Dovis's gigantic ram had stretched me wide open, and Paul thrust into me much more easily and with no pain. He thrust faster than Dovis, but it didn't matter—no pain, I was broken in—and again the pleasure wave built, the bitch-joy of meat pumping inside. Once more, Paul, the young stud, hot and horny, who had recovered his hardon in record time, didn't take long to start adding his load to that already inside me. With loud groans he filled my canal, and I got that strange, weird pride as spurt after spurt of my son's sperm filled my ass.

And I'll be goddamned. I came again. My son's cock in me started another solar flare inside my balls, and a rush of pure, burning pleasure shot through me. I stiffened up in ecstasy, and my cock gushed out another load of cum, splattering it over my chest. And I still had not touched myself!

His cock still in me, Paul collapsed onto my chest. "Dad," he whispered, "oh, god, that was great." After a few panting, sweating minutes, Paul rose up, his cock slurping out of me like Dovis's. He dismounted me, I thought as my body gradually slowed down. He mounted me as his bitch, and he just dismounted. I smiled. My son was a stud. 

When I finally caught my breath, I lowered my legs and stretched them out. Cum pooled between them in a smutty puddle under my asshole, sperm matted my chest hair in sticky globs, and I felt the sticky goo all over me. I didn't care. My ass was a little sore, but I didn't care about that, either. Two men had just fucked me. I was marked—branded—with their cum. And I wanted to do it again. 

Thoroughly, totally fucked, I looked up at Dovis. You are a piece of shit! You are a fucking officer, and this lowly Private has just fucked you! I looked over at Paul. And there's that, too! You want to spread your legs and give your ass to him again, too! You fucking pervert!.

It was true.

Dovis was pulling on his shorts. The show was over. I bit my lip. The bastard was the master. Oh, God, is that true?? Is he really ... my master? I looked down. Yeah. I would be his whenever and however he wanted me. My body was his. I craved to serve him, to feel —oh, Jesus, yeah!—more of that hot sperm filling me up. 

"I'll send you a message, Colonel," he said, "as soon as I want you again."

I scuttled around to face him, trying one last time to maintain my military bearing. Think about it: one tiny indiscretion, one little hint that you and he have a homosexual relationship, and your military career—to say nothing of your retirement—will turn into dried-up sperm. "You will treat me, Private," I snapped, "with military courtesy!" 

Dovis stopped, his shorts only up to his knees, and he turned to face me, his dong swinging heavily between his legs. He bobbled it against my face. Hopeless. Against my will, I sucked it into my mouth and closed my eyes. I couldn't keep myself from sucking that big dong.

"Like I said, Bitch," Dovis growled. I'll send you a message." He yanked his cock back, pulled up his shorts, and walked out. 

I sat back and looked up at Paul. "Now what?" I asked. "What are we going to do? What about your mother?"

"I like fucking you, Dad." Paul went for the simple answer.

The ball was in my court: I had to say it—"I like you fucking me, son." 

We crawled sorely upstairs to our beds. He to his; I to mine. I wondered as I fell asleep what Pandora's Box I had opened.

The next morning as I stood before the bathroom mirror shaving, my son walked into the bathroom. He wore just towel around his hips, just like me. He closed the door behind him and dropped the towel. He had a hardon. I licked my lips. "Suck my cock, Dad," he said.

"Now just a minute, Paul," I growled. "I'm your father and I..." But his hardening dick, stretching out as I watched, made my mouth water. What the hell. I sank to my knees and took it into my mouth. I sucked away happily until Paul finally spurted his morning sperm down my throat. My boy's cum! Tastes good!

I stood up and tried to go back to shaving, but Paul pulled the towel from my hips. Gripping my hips in his arms, he pushed his cock between my cheeks, seeking my puckered asshole —Damn, he got his hardon back this fast??— and when he found it, he thrust hard, jamming past my muscle-ring into my guts, forcing a happy grunt from me. Yes, oh, yes!!

I gripped the sink as Paul plowed me, lunging until he let out the low moan that had become familiar. Also familiar by then was the wonderful sensation of boiling sperm shot into my guts. Paul stood a long time in me as he burned through his afterglow, and when he finally pulled back, his softening cock popped out, and I turned around. "Good morning, son," I said and kissed him on the mouth.

Paul stepped into the shower, and I turned back to the mirror to continue my shave. Paul's hot sperm ran out of my asshole. Lucky I don't have on my underwear yet. I decided not to wipe the streams off my legs. Imagine walking past Major Jandt with Paul's jsim coating my legs. Outside the uniform, I'm a soldier—inside it I'm marked with my son's ejaculation. 

My cock twitched, starting to harden, and that made me stare at the face in the mirror. What's going happen now. I'm changed—God, am I changed!—but I've got to stay in control, keep all this under cover. I closed my eyes. What kind of a soldier am I be now? I didn't feel physically different. I still knew all about soldiering. I was still patriotic. I relaxed. Everything will be okay.

Then I got a whiff of the fresh sperm drooling down my legs. 

TO BE CONTINUED



The Colonel Ch. 04



I sat at my desk, working on paperwork in my office at battalion headquarters. I turned pages but couldn't remember a word I had read. A week. I've been a cum-slut for a whole fucking week. I bit my lip.

One week ago I was a proud US Army officer, standing tall, bowing to no man. I had come up through the ranks to the silver oak leaves of a lieutenant colonel. At 50, I reached battalion commander, proud of my achievements, proud of my memories of combat, CIA missions, even a Purple Heart. I looked forward to retirement and an easy life in only six more months. But my life had done one motherfucker of an About-Face.

I looked up from the papers, staring out the window. A man. A man showed me my weakness. I gulped. Never would have dreamed it. Thought I was stone straight. I'm married, for god's sake, and I have a son!

I shook my head. But it's true: I love cock, and he taught me exactly how I love it: down my throat and up my ass. He took me. Got my cherry. Made me his.

I clasped my hands behind my neck, leaning back in the chair, looking up at the ceiling. And Paul. I'll be a sonofabitch if the guy didn't do the same to my own son! I smiled. And Paul did it to me, too.

A week ago a Private Dovis came into my life and (not exactly against my will) taught my son and me how it was. I figured I should be, but I wasn't really sorry. Dovis opened a whole new world to me. My cock twitched pleasantly as I thought about it.

I went back to my paperwork, trying not to think about what I couldn't stop thinking about. After a few minutes I heard my orderly's voice in the outer office. "Hi, Paul. He's in his office. Go right in." Well, I'll be damned. Speak of the devil.

I sat up straight and smiled as my son walked into my office. The back of my boxer clung wetly to my ass, still moist from leaking the cumload he shot into me while I leaned over the bathroom sink that morning. We had grown closer than I thought possible. 

Then another man walked in, and my mouth dropped open. Corporal Niely! Ohmigod, the sergeant I busted down to corporal for queer acts in the barracks!

My whole adventure in mansex began the day I busted (former) Sergeant Niely after they caught him in the barracks showers getting a blowjob from another soldier. My mouth went dry, and beads of sweat broke out on my forehead. "What do you want?" I growled.

Niely came to Attention but said nothing. I looked at Paul. "They came to the house, Dad," he said, "and brought me here." 

"They?" Another man sauntered through the door, and my balls turned to ice. Private Dovis, the man himself!! He had turned me into his personal cock-slave. He looked at me with a smirk. I knew it! I knew it wasn't over. And now the other shoe is dropping. I raised my voice, "What's this all about?" But I felt like I was drowning.

Dovis turned to Niely. "Go ahead, man," he said in a low voice. "Do it. You'll see." With that, Niely reached down and opened the fly in his fatigue pants. Watching me uncertainly, he reached in and fetched out a big cock, the one I had marveled at in the photos from the Military Police office.

Instead of calling the MPs, as I should have, without saying a word, I moved quickly to my office door, closed it, and quietly turned the lock. "What the fuck do you think you're doing," hissed.

"Suck it," said Dovis. "Suck his cock and show him you're sorry for busting him from sergeant."

"What? That's bullshit! I'll have you arrested," I barked (but not quite loud enough to be heard outside the office). 

Smiling at me, Dovis stuck his hand in his pants and pulled out The Cock. I stared, dizzy. My God, I'm out of control!

"Not this, suck his cock, Bitch," Dovis ordered, and his sexual conditioning of me took over: I moved trembling to stand before the corporal, my knees hit the floor, and I slurped my lips over his big, purple knob. As I reached in to heft his balls, I heard another thump—Paul going down on Dovis's big hardon.

"Fucking hypocrite," Niely growled, lurching his hips and sinking his cock deeper. I closed my eyes. As a man I couldn't sink any deeper.

Dovis laughed. "The colonel was a virgin until he met me. Now he's a cock-slut." 

Niely must have been scared at first because he wasn't fully hard when I began the blowjob, and I was still sucking when Dovis let out a groan, and the sounds from their side of the room became very slurpy with many small grunts. I envied Paul and the hot cum he was swallowing. 

Inspired by his buddy, Niely's balls came online, and with a vicious jab down the back of my throat, he hosed me with his own, man-sized load of sperm. I swallowed it all. 

I was a hopeless case. When he pulled his dong back, I licked it all the way, kissing and nursing as the head slipped out of my mouth. I'm NOT a cum-slut, I told myself, I just don't want him to mark my uniform with his jism.

Yeah, right. 

When he finished, Niely zipped himself up, walked to the door, and unlocked it. Dovis walked after him, sneering down at me as he passed by. 

When we were alone, I looked at Paul as he wiped the cum from his lips. He gave me a little smile. "I think we got a problem, Dad." 

He still had a small dollop of sperm on his cheek. I went to him, bent over, and licked it off. "We'll be okay," I said and gave him a kiss, at first a fatherly peck, but when he groped my crotch and squeezed my rock-hard dick, we frenched each other until we both were panting.

"We better not," he whispered. "The door's not locked.

"You're right, son." I held him away from me and looked him up and down. What a handsome kid, a real man. I felt proud in a funny way—more in my balls than in my chest. "Go on home, Paul. I've got stuff I've got to finish here. I'll see you later on." Paul gave my crotch another squeeze, then walked out of my office.

I plunked down in the chair behind my desk, pulled open the big bottom drawer, and lifted out the bottle of Jim Beam. I poured myself a stiff shot. I didn't really believe anything about that "we'll be okay" stuff. In fact, I'm scared shitless. Dovis told Niely about me! Oh, God, the story is going to spread. Will I ever make it to retirement Holy hell. Am I going to keep my head above water?? Instead of leaving the Army with a cushy going-away party, I saw visions of a court martial and being tossed out into the street. 

I took another slug from the glass. I have to admit it: I like to be at the mercy of a big man who's been around the block, a cocksman who knows what to do to me. I swallowed more whiskey. Letting Paul fuck me works, but it's just father-son bonding, playing catch—only using sperm instead of a baseball.

But Dovis. He's something else.

Fucking around with Dovis is Russian Roulette, though, a ticking time-bomb. I stood up, walked to the window again, and watched the soldiers marching by. I bit my lip. Keeping away from Dovis won't help. For one thing, he was my first. He marked me. I can't resist that man when he pulls open his pants. And it's clear he plans to make this grow—first my son, then Niely, and who knows how many more he'll bring to me. Until he destroys me.

Okay, don't panic, dumb-ass. And put down the booze. Let's list what's going on:

1) You sucked Dovis's cock and then he fucked you—teaching you to love sex with men.

2) Dovis, for all that he is a natural-born fucker you were lucky to have as your first—is still a teenaged shithead who loves to humiliate you and who will surely cause your downfall.

And what can I do about that??

Shut up, there's something else:

3) Dovis set you free. He didn't invent your cravings, he uncovered them. Now that you know what's inside you, there's nothing that says you can't pursue your own interests! 

I leaned against the side of the window, looking out. Fuck, yeah! A fort this size is bound to have dozens if not hundreds of gay soldiers! And I'll keep it under control. Secret.

This doesn't solve the problem of Dovis, though. I picked up the whiskey again and took another jolt. I need a miracle. Through the window I watched an officer in khaki uniform walked into the distance, his green beret at a jaunty angle. Nice ass. Tight butt. Never rimmed a man's ass before. Like to try it. That's a well-built man, reminds me of--

Captain Stempl!

Stempl had been a favorite of mine for a long time, and I didn't even know why. It wasn't "love." He wasn't particularly handsome—had a face like a bulldog. He was no tall hero-knight, either—he was only five-foot-something and had very short legs. The man had the build of a gorilla: big chest, long arms, narrow waist, stubby legs. I heard soldiers in his command refer to him as "Captain Stubby."

But even before Dovis took my cherry and showed me what else the male body can do, I had a strange enjoyment in looking at Stempl. He was a soldier from head to toe. Knew every Army manual by heart. Wore his uniform like he was a guard at the White House. When he marched with his troops, he was in perfect step, and those short little legs somehow covered the same amount of territory as the six-footers tromping beside him.

Watching Stempl was to know the joy of soldiering. Everything about him radiated pride in himself, pride in the Service, and pride in whatever he did. Back in those days of the draft, a great many GIs had bad attitudes, bitching and moaning about the slightest orders, just putting in their time, living for their Discharge. 

Individuals like Captain Stempl stood out like Ken dolls in a room full of Potato-Heads. Short as he was, "Captain Stubby" was what being a being a soldier—being a man—was all about.

I wondered about his cock. I'd never seen it. What?? You just sucked a cock in your office, and now you're bottom-feeding again?? I shrugged my shoulders. Yeah, better to put sex with soldiers completely out of my mind.

I had my son Paul at home, after all, and Dovis had taught us sucking and fucking. Paul wasn't the big, grown man I craved, though. I thought about the porn shop downtown. Maybe I can dress up in civilian clothes, wear shades, and see what I can find there.

Yeah, right. I'll give you 99 to 1 that you'll either meet a soldier you know (who might not tell) or worse, one will see you who knows who you are (and who surely will tell). I sighed. The porn shop's bread & butter was off-duty GIs.

I left the office, walked out into the street, and started crossing the quad. You bastard, I know where you're going! Goddamit, you're going over to see Stempl! Hey, I'm the fucking commander! I need to keep in touch with the troops.



You're losing it, you stupid bastard! You're going over there to keep touching the troops!

The decision went back and forth in my head all the way over to Company D. When I walked through the barracks door, somebody called out "Tensh-HUT!" and everybody leaped up to stand straight and tall. From the corner of my eye I saw somebody duck out the door to run to the Commanding Officer's office and alert the CO—Captain Stempl. Good.

"At Ease, men. Relax," I said. "This is no surprise inspection. Just dropped by to see your CO." But the experience with Dovis had opened my eyes. I guess I had always "noticed," but not really noticed the handsome, muscular bodies around me. With a poker face, I glanced casually around the room. Some of the men went back to relaxing on their bunks in only fatigue pants and undershirts. Others—yeah!—were bare-chested. Nice. Hairy chest on that guy. And look at that one: big brown nipples the size of 50-cent pieces. One GI lounged on his bunk in nothing but his boxers and a tank-top undershirt, one leg up on the mattress, giving me shot into the darkness down the leg of his shorts. Couldn't see much, though—too far away. 

I walked on, glancing at a few crotches, but I knew only too well that I was being watched, too, and what I looked at was being recorded—if I had stared at a window, for example, the second I left, the sergeant would have them scrubbing it. If I looked down at a bunk, its owner would be yelled at later for loose blankets.

If any realized I was looking around hoping to see cocks—well, I didn't want to think about what would happen. I walked around for a respectable time, then sauntered down the hallway to the headquarters offices.

Stempl wasn't there. Damn!

"He's over at the gym, sir."

"He is?"

"Yessir. Goes over there most days to work out."

"Thank you, sergeant. Maybe I'll drop back later." He saluted me; I returned the salute and walked back outside. The gym. PT uniform—shorts and T-shirt! I got that funny feeling in my gut—tightness in the balls, anxious groin—I was getting horny.

I walked a couple of blocks to the post gymnasium and looked around. He wasn't there. I did get to watch a couple of muscular specimens lifting weights, but they wore sweatshirts and sweatpants--loose, thick clothes that hid everything. I checked every room (especially the showers—six guys in there, two with foreskins, four cut), but no Stempl. I was pissed. Goddamn it, I'm going to give the gym a surprise inspection! I'll piss THEM off!

Calm down, idiot. 

What the hell, I walked down the street to the Officers' Club and went into the bar. I needed a drink. Well, I'll be damned! At the bar sat Captain Stempl himself! Alone he nursed what looked like a Scotch & water. 

"Captain Stempl!"

He looked up suddenly, startled. We were in Duty Hours, and he owed me an explanation for being in the bar imbibing alcohol. Oh? And what are you in here for? 

"Colonel," he said, then paused. A long pause. Doesn't know what to say. Somehow I've caught him with his pants down, but I don't know exactly why. He set the glass down. "Colonel," he said again, "I got a problem."

I sat on the stool next to him. "And what's that?"

He took another drink from his glass. "It's a chickenshit gripe." He set the glass down. "But I feel like I've been kicked in the balls." Finally he said it: "My girlfriend left me."

My first inclination was to snicker, but the man was obviously dead in the water. "With her a long time, were you?"

"Yeah. Eight years. I was going to ask her to marry me at the end of the summer." 

In a similar case, I would have slapped the guy on the back and told him to go downtown and get laid, but Stempl was really hurting. "Hey, man, buck up." I really didn't know what to say. "It happens to everybody sooner or later," I volunteered and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "You've just gotta deal with it."

I thought for a moment. "Tell you what, Captain Stempl, put the glass down and go for a ride with me. We'll talk about this." He dropped five bucks on the bar. You perverted bastard, the poor fucker has lost his girl, and you're ogling his body! True. Very casually but very intently, I checked Stempl out: chest like a beer barrel, his shoulders like rolling mountains, arms long and gorilla-like. 

When he slid off the stool, I checked out his package. Damn! A good bulge, and in his frame of mind, it's not from a hardon. He's packing something down there!

You make me sick. The poor guy on the edge of suicide, and you want to get into his pants! Seduce a guy who's straight!

Stempl and I walked outside and headed to the battalion parking lot. My parking space was close to the buildings, so we didn't have far to go. I unlocked the car, and we got in, Stempl looking like a prisoner on his way to jail. As I drove out of the post, we talked about this and that, avoiding the elephant in the room.

Outside the post, I pulled off the road in a parking area near the trailhead of a hiking path. We got out and started to walk. After a few minutes, Stempl muttered, "Colonel, I'm as embarrassed as hell, but I just can't get her out of my mind." He paused. "How am I going to make it?" 

I turned to say something, but before I could, he went on, his voice low, almost talking to himself: "You don't know what it's like. None of you do." Long pause. "I'm too fucking short—too fuckin' ugly. Women either pity me or they outright run away. When Janet and I fell in love, I thought I had finally made it."

Personal relationships are not my specialty. Again grasping for something to say, I muttered, "Oh, hell, Stempl, that's not true! You're a ... good-looking man. And you don't want a woman who cares more about what you look like than what you are." I hoped that made sense. I had heard it somewhere.

"Oh, God, " he said. My hell, is he about to cry?? "I can't face it! Sitting in bars while girls walk by me trying to avoid eye contact. Hearing the bitches tell me they don't want to go out with me."

He took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. "Being called 'Shorty'!'"

I didn't know what else to do. I placed my arm around his shoulder. "Oh, that's okay," I said lamely. "Things'll work out. You'll see." 

He turned toward me, and suddenly he was close. Very close. He looked up into my face, and we stared into each other's eyes. 



Ohmigod! It's happening. The longer I looked into his eyes, the stronger the feeling that we communicated. Waves, radiations, electricity, something flowed between us. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, I wrapped my arms gently and completely around his shoulders. To my delight, his arms moved under mine and around my back to hug me, too. We stood like that for a long time—two men in an embrace. What will you say when the MPs ask you what you're doing?

Hey, technically this is "comforting a fallen comrade"—nothing illicit. 

Oh, yeah? This isn't where you want this to end. Are you so low you're coming on to a straight guy on the rebound from his girl??

Hey, he's hugging me back! As a matter of fact, we were hugging very close. The bulge in the front of his fatigues pressed against my thigh (his crotch was lower than mine). My hard cock pressed against his belly. He had to feel it.

When our embrace finally passed the line marking "innocent, honest comfort to a friend" and became unexplainably long, we both knew. The world had turned under us.

I took the lead and lowered my face slowly, very slowly. His eyes grew wide, nervous, and he trembled in my arms. Damn, is that horror or just uncertainty? Well, he's not pulling away. My mouth moved closer and closer. "Sir," he hissed, "I'm-I'm not...mmmf!" I pressed my lips against his, and he jerked a little. But he didn't pull back. 

The kiss was gentle. Tender. Not a rape-threat. Stempl was at full steam, though. Panting blasts from his nostrils swept the side of my face. But he's not truly horny, not yet. A stick of dynamite just went off in his head when his commanding officer kissed him! I restrained myself, knowing massive attitude changes were crashing down on Stempl.

After a few moments (during which he never tried to break the kiss), I pressed my lips a little harder against his. When he let out a little grunt, I touched his lips with the tip of my tongue, and—the sign—his mouth opened! His tongue thrust out to do battle with mine.



Victory! My cock throbbed in my pants. I knew how the rest of this would go. Oh, God, just like Dovis knew he had me back in that latrine. Yep, there it was: I knew I had Stempl. My cock hardened into an ICBM, and, still kissing him, I moved him in short steps off the trail and back into some thick shrubbery. 

I moved my hands across his back, feeling his muscles, squeezing here and there. Slowly my hands moved lower, caressing new territory with every grope, until, with a soft groan in my mouth, Stempl let me know he felt my hands gripping and cupping his buttocks, squeezing and manipulating them, turning him on. 




The Colonel Ch. 04



Not right at first, but after a minute or so of my fondling, he pulled back from the kiss. "Sir," he gasped, "please ... I'm not ... I'm not. ... I'm straight!"

But I covered his mouth with my own again, and sure enough, his tongue defended itself when mine came after it, and in moments his tongue made counterattacks. To my delight, Stempl's hands moved down my back to grope my ass. Together we squeezed each other's cheeks, and my tongue took a new tack, darting in and out of his mouth, fucking it. 

I moved one of my hands from Stempl's ass, and when he felt it groping the bulge between his legs, he once more pulled back from the kiss, startled, looking into my eyes with what looked like fear. Can't be fear. He's a goddamned Special Forces trooper. But it very well could be the sudden realization that this is a matter of sex, not good friendship. Men don't kiss and then sit down to write poetry. I kept squeezing and stroking him through his uniform.

At the sound of his zipper going down, his expression changed to something like, "Okay, what the hell, let's rock," and his mouth pressed against mine again, this time his tongue fucking my mouth.

I took that as a green flag, and, to cut a long story short (too late, asshole), in a few short moments, I got his pants down to this boot-tops. By then we were no longer kissing; we held each other close, cheek-to-cheek, almost as if on a dance floor. I shoved his shorts down, and as they slithered to lie on the crumpled pants, I felt it. 



Judas Priest! I had never seen him in the showers, so I hadn't seen Stempl's stem yet, but it felt—Son ... of ... a ... bitch!—thicker even than Dovis's. "God damn, Captain," I growled softly into his ear, "are you stealing a salami from the mess hall?" 

Maybe not quite as long as Dovis's. At first grope, it felt about as long as mine. But my fingers couldn't close around it, not by a long shot. Fuck, it's a can of warm beer!

And then his hand snaked through the fly of my fatigues, and in an instant, my throbbing woodie bounced in the air. The horny little fucker started jacking me off. You see, you see? I'm not the only perv here! Mine was just some civilized feeling-up. He skipped right to beating the meat!

But who was complaining? I heard that roaring in my ears again. I unbuttoned his fatigue blouse and slid it off his shoulders. He did the same to me. We looked at each other a moment in unspoken agreement, then stood back to strip off our T-shirts, unlace our boots, kick them off, and shuck down pants and underwear.

We were naked. Just our dogtags.

And hard cocks. Fuck, he had a nice one. A damned uncut pipe thicker than a grenade. A baseball bat without the slender end. Six, seven inches long—yep, about as long as mine—but a portable fencepost. Damn, that's going to hurt.

Dovis's legacy swept over me: I wanted Stempl, and I wanted him bad. Stempl's was dark and veined like mine, and pre-cum began to ooze from it. We fell back into another embrace and another kiss, then I dropped my head to his big chest, nibbling here and there, working over one nipple then the other, and he grunted with pleasure.

His chest hair narrowed to a stripe across his navel and further south. I kissed my way down it. With a body as short as Stempl's I was on my knees long before I got in range of his cock, still kissing along the fur-trail as it finally spread out at the delta of his pubic hair. I was hot. As the big meat throbbed in front of me, I ached to be a cocksucker again. 

I leaned close and dabbed the tip of my tongue into the big hole in his foreskin, touching the cockhead inside. When I pulled away, a string of fluid stretched out between my tongue and his piss-hole, finally snapping and falling back wet and slimy onto his groin and my chin. 



What is going through his mind? I know how I felt when all these revelations fell on me like a truckload of rocks. Moons and planets were realigning in his universe. He let out a loud gasp when my mouth opened as wide as my jaws would stretch and sucked—no, tried to suck—his cock. The motherfucker was just too big. Like trying to swallow a coffee cup. 

I mouthed over the head, almost getting it into my mouth. No deep-throating here. I stroked his shaft with my hand, and—"Oh, god, Colonel!"—with a pulsing jerk, he shot a wad of cum into my mouth like his cock gave birth to a tennis ball. Sonofabitch! I couldn't take all of his first spurt, let alone the second, third, or fourth. And it was thick, not like my thin, watery stuff. Stempl's jizz was like warm cottage cheese.

As I knelt there trying to gulp it down, I couldn't help but admire his testicles. The man probably lost two or three pounds in that ejaculation. I sat back on my ankles, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, and Stempl looked down at me. "God damn, Colonel, I never would have believed it." 

"How'd you like it?"

He caressed the top of my head. "Just fine." With that, he dropped to his knees to reach me, and again we kissed. My tongue pushed some of his sperm into his mouth to let him taste it, and his tongue snaked out to scoop it up.

When the kiss finally ended, I looked him in the eye. "Try it, you'll like it."

Again the hesitation in his eyes. He's thinking, "If I don't do anything, then I'm not queer." But he owed me. Since we were both on our knees, he dropped to his hands, down to my crotch level, and hell-bent-for-leather, lips wide open, he crammed almost all my cock into his mouth in one great gulp. Wow, he's good! Natural talent. I couldn't hold back a groan. That was Captain Stempl, all right, gung-ho in everything he did. 

I wasn't the one packing the heaviest artillery, and since he could actually get my cock into his mouth, he gave me a blowjob like it's supposed to be done. Bobbing his head up and down, Stempl's mouth was hot, sucking, and tight, and he got to me very soon. I thought I would last longer, but with a long moan, I held his head against me and shot him my own version of lava. He swallowed every drop (didn't have to chew like I had).

When I finally wound down, we both got to our feet. "Looks like we have a secret," I murmured. He smiled back. Hey, a smile. I got his mind off his troubles, at least for a while. 

I put my arm around his shoulder again, and I'll be damned if his hand didn't reach out to fondle my crotch. We went back to kissing and more foreplay, and at last I lay back on the big log, pulling him down on top of me. I massaged his back as he nipped at my pecs, tickling my nipples with his tongue and squeezing my balls.

I reached under and stroked his cock. He was good and hard. With a cock that thick, does he get lightheaded when it hardens up? When I got him lurching his hips at my jacking hand, I raised the ante. 

Still stroking him, I reached with the other hand to my fatigues and rummaged around in the pocket, bringing out a foil packet of gun grease. For greasing the breech of a firearm. To make it work easier. So the bullet slides hot, slick and fast into the chamber.

With Stempl's body prone on mine, I slowly raised my legs, and he slid down, backing off me, not quite sure what was going on. As he stared down, I rocked my knees back to my chest, rolling my ass and the hot, puckered target into his view, into range. His mouth fell open in shock.

His eyes grew wide as I squeezed the packet of gun grease over my ass, slathering it all over the place, packing it around and into my asshole. Then I reached for his cock and smeared it with grease, too, wiping him in swipes fetched from my shiny, slick ass. "Okay, Stempl," I said grimly. "Do it."

I pulled at his dong, guiding him toward me, aiming him at my foxhole. His face flickering with a hundred emotions, he mounted me ... and the big dong pressed against my opening. He pushed. Hoo-YAH! Damn, was I glad Dovis and Paul had opened me up. If that howitzer had spread my ring without some stretching experience, he would've split my crotch up to my chest. 

As it was, a fiery pain shot through me, and I stiffened in agony, biting my lip to keep from yelling. I didn't want to scare Stempl and hear "What, did I hurt you, sir? Jeez, I'm sorry. I'll never do it again," so I choked back the screams.

No, I wanted him to remember this as an A#1 fuck. I writhed as his immense girth spread my rectum into a tight rubber band. I knew, though, that if I could just gut it out long enough, the pain would subside—and the pleasure would begin. 

Once that happened, Stempl's cock won my heart. Like always, I was in awe that a man's cock sliding through another man's asshole was pleasurable, an indescribable turn-on. Like nothing I'd ever felt before—before Dovis, that is. And for all the sonofabitch he was, I owed Dovis for that. 

Enjoying my hot cavern, Stempl started thrusting harder and harder, faster and faster—Damn, this is quick! He must've been very horny.

Nah, his mind is blown from the earth-shaking experience of fucking his CO. He's cumming from sheer overwhelm!

Sure enough, he rammed in to the balls, his body stiffened over me, he held me tight, and the big gobs of his slimy porridge pumped into my guts. He stayed in suspended animation for a long time—enjoying himself—but he finally cooled down, the stovepipe softened, and it slithered back out of my ass. Stempl then crawled up to kiss me.

We lay there making out for quite a while. I kissed him hot and hard, stroking his cock until I got him panting again. I had one more move before Checkmate. This is it! Take him across this threshold, and you got a friend for life! I moved my mouth to his ear. "My turn," I whispered.

He shivered. "Jesus," he gulped. He turned his face to mine. "Sir ... Sir, I don't think ... I can't ... I never—"

"Don't worry about a thing." I kissed him softly. "You'll like it. I'll go slow." 

With Stempl muttering little yelps and complaints, I rolled him over onto his belly, then pulled him back onto his knees. I looked down. His ass was raised to me like a Christmas platter—with a little hole in the middle of it. 

Ohmigod, another first! I've never fucked a man, either. Dovis and Paul socked the meat to me, and god help me, I couldn't imagine anything finer than being fucked. Never dared turn the tables on Dovis, himself, and never thought of fucking my own son. I gulped. When I get Stempl's cherry—he'll be my first, too. My inaugural fuck.

I knelt to begin his initiation. "Agh," he gasped at the blowtorch of my tongue licking and jabbing at his asshole. "Ah, GOD!" 



Another convert. Until he's had one, a man can't comprehend the ecstasy from a good rim job. I didn't believe my asshole was capable of pleasure until Dovis showed me. 

And now I'm snowing Stempl.

When I got him panting hot and lunging his ass back against me, I licked my finger and stuck it in. "Ungh, God!" he hissed. I let him get used to it, then moved it in and out a little, drawing a moan from him.

Then I stuck in two fingers, same treatment. Then three, and each time after a short period of relaxation, he became accustomed to the stretch. Finally, in a voice so hoarse he sounded like whooping cough, he growled, "C'mon, sir, I'm ready. Fuck me!"

The magic words. My penis throbbed hard from all the excitement and the forest fire of anticipation. I mounted him and placed my cockhead at his fuckshole. "Do it," he groaned, and I pushed. Damn, it sank in quick! I'll be a sonofabitch. He's got a big asshole, too. His guts opened wide, and planting my cock in him turned out to be easy, quick, and HOT! Like sticking my peter in boiling water.

Still, I took it easy. I left just the head inside him for several minutes, letting him adjust to the stretch. Then I slid in a little more. Again he gasped, and I paused once more as he became accustomed. But then he began to wriggle under me, wallowing his asshole around the invader, getting pleasure from it ... so I did it. I slid in all the way, thrusting my hips forward, his guts a tight, slimy wall around my invasion, a mind-blowing in-stroke until my balls pressed against his.



Oh ... my ... God!!

Incredible, stupefying sensations! Dizzy! Can't catch my breath! Jesus, can't believe it! Fucking a man is better ... never thought I would think this ... than fucking a woman!!

And something else: Stempl is MINE! I got him! Forever more, whenever he sees me, he'll remember his first time. MY cock up his ass. I got a rush of that strange pride, something so basic it comes from the balls. My dick grew even bigger, and my chest almost exploded in exultation. "Yes!" I roared, "YES!!" 

That did it. I gave in to my testicles. I forgot the easy stuff and started the ancient manly movements, hard thrusts in and out, full-length strokes from cockhead to balls, deep and powerful. I stretched out over Stempl's sweating body to see his face. His eyes were closed, his mouth open, panting. He was ready, grunting with each stroke. I bent over into a curve to bring my face to kiss him, still plowing his ass from my other end. 

When our lips met, I'll be damned if Stempl didn't cum. By himself. His hands were on the log, clawing at it, not touching his cock. The captain got his orgasm from my fucking! I swelled with that weird pride again. I am the Alpha! I am THE MAN! I AM THE FUCKER!!

As his clumpy jism gushed onto the log, Stempl moaned long and low, groaning through a climax, no doubt astounded that he could be pushed into an orgasm by being fucked. About then the magic began at the bottom of my sac. My fuck-strokes automatically shortened to quick, hard jabs as the sensation quickly spread along the seam of my balls and up to the swollen head of my penis. 

I, too, rolled my head back in ecstasy, my eyes clenched shut, my mouth wide open. I forced my cock into Stempl as far as I could and gave myself up to the ecstasy, shooting my own juice deep inside him in spasms, writhing, unloading like I never had before. 

Fiery pleasure. I was a cock, a giant, red-hot, throbbing cock! And it went on forever. Long, burning minutes. We crouched there in a frozen tableau, petrified by pleasure. Fucking a soldier. God, it's fine!

But all good things come to an end, and after my orgasm subsided and my cock slipped back out of his ass, we lay panting for a while, enjoying the afterglow. I'm getting good at this. Every orgasm lasts much longer than ever in my youth.

Stempl broke the silence. "Well, I guess I owe you," he said.

"Owe me? You don't owe me a thing. You just sent me to Heaven."

He smiled. "Never thought I would get over Janet." He reached down and grasped my soft, panting penis. "But you just took me to places she never did." We both sat up on the log. "Thanks, Colonel." And we kissed again.

We sat there for a long time cuddling and kissing, two naked men—no, two naked friends. Finally the hour grew late. We pulled our uniforms back on, walked back to the car, and I drove him back to his company area.

Back at home, watching TV with my wife and son, I realized I had found my dream-friend. Eric Stempl was no control-freak who wanted to dominate me (not that I couldn't enjoy that sort of thing), and I suddenly imagined a long time of mansex without putting my head on the guillotine every time. But you've still got the problem of Dovis. I didn't care. Not then. Too happy, too satisfied.

The following day, my wife left to visit her mother, who lived in the next state, and Paul set off on a trip to New York for a rock concert. He drove off with a carload of buddies, and I couldn't help fantasizing what they would be into besides the music. I had the house to myself and started thinking about asking Stempl over for a drink as I dressed to go to work.

Back in my office, starting the day, I read through the announcements from Brigade Headquarters. I almost passed out. No shit, I was dizzy, lightheaded. I couldn't believe it. I leaned back in my chair, my heart pounding. 

I reached into the drawer, fetched out the bottle, and poured myself another shot of Jim Beam. 

One of the companies in my battalion, Company B, had been selected by USCONARC (US Continental Army Command) to report for training at a post on the other side of the country. The training was involved and precise—the assignment was for 18 months. The entire company would participate in the training and be billeted away from our fort for the assigned time.

I could hardly believe my luck. You got your miracle!

Both Dovis and Niely were in Company B.

I was so relieved, I applied for leave on the spot. I also filled out the paperwork for Captain Eric Stempl. A three-day weekend in the Bahamas.

When I told Stempl, he grinned. "Got a Speedo, Colonel?"

"Naw."

"Better get one. That's the max you're allowed to wear down there."

"When I get you alone," I said quietly, "I won't stand for any cloth at all 'down there.'" It was wonderful. We fucked each other senseless that weekend. I shot so much sperm in those three days, my balls were shriveled raisins when I got home, and for a week I couldn't drink enough water.

Six months later I retired from the Army with full honors, from all outward appearances still a stone-straight, ultra-conservative officer. Still happily married, my wife and I moved from base housing to a nice house in the town, one close to the beach. And there the Andy Griffith Show ended.

My son Paul fucked me every day. I bent over the bathroom sink for him every morning—part of my tooth-brushing & shaving ritual—until he finally went away for Basic Training. The wife never found out.

Eric Stempl drove over to visit often, at least once a week "to swim in our pool," and we frequently spent nights in motel rooms. Finally the Army transferred him away. We still write. 

Life goes on: daily routine with my wife has settled into to a comfortable predictability—but on my own I experiment ever more in the wondrous discoveries I've made about the male body. I wonder how many of the proud young men who strut up to me to get their cocks sucked realize that the gray-haired old geezer gulping down their cum is an ex-Green Beret colonel who could easily snap their necks with a single backhand chop. 

Ain't life grand?

THE END



The Colonel Ch. 05



When I retired from the Army, which I had come to think of as a prison, my wife and I moved to a little house near the beach, and life crystallized -- we, as they say, settled down. The house was a fabulous find. The previous owners had to get out of the country quick, and we happened along on the right day to get it for a song. 

I had dreamed of such a house: on a bluff overlooking the ocean, a red-brick rambler on a large plot of land. A curving driveway with a line of palms on one side and an undulating mass of passion flower vines along the pavement with hundreds of those incredible purple outer-space blossoms like little motherships from Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind. They also served as life-cycle plants for a species of butterfly, and from midsummer on, hundreds of black-&-gold butterflies made the house even more beautiful.

Something else: with the cliff at the back, the woods on one side and a downslope on the other, and a long, clear area leading up to it -- it's easily defended by a small squad. Maybe a machine gun position over here, a mortar team over there . . . 

With the gorgeous ocean view, the house was perfect.

My wife got another job as a nurse, and I found work with a construction company -- very different from am Army Brigade and quite a change from life in the Special Forces, but I my leadership skills came in handy (and got me the job). 

Civilians! No discipline! They get the job done but only because management is . . . "nice"! Man, if we ran the military that way, we would be singing "The Star-Spangled Hammer & Sickle" long ago!

But I managed. I got along with the crews. Our two salaries plus my retirement income gave us a very comfortable lifestyle. Our standard of living was perfect.

But as time went by I realized I was not perfect. Standing at the top of the bluff, I was sorely tempted to step off and become part of the gorgeous, perfect ocean view.

The problem was that my sex-life thermometer had sunk to Freezing. For a long time, sex with my wife had an astrological schedule -- in the "male" seasons (Capricorn, Sagittarius, etc.) she "put up with it." In the "female" signs (Virgo, Libra, etc.) I went without.

Thanks to the wonderfully endowed Private Clovis, a few years earlier I learned I had alternatives to a cold marital bed. I remembered my last days in the Army as the most sexually fulfilling of my life -- with men.

The men on my construction site, however, had basic routines -- work each day, spend a couple hours each night in a tavern, a fight or two, home for meat and wormy potatoes. After a few more beers, some TV, it was fuck the wife and hit the sack (come to think of it, not so different from the life of a soldier). Finding a man who wanted to trade sweat (or other drippings) was not so easy. 

The crew undoubtedly had a "fellow traveler" or two, but trying to come on to a construction worker was like cleaning your ear with an ice pick -- one slip and everything after that is pretty one-sided. 

As a construction company manager, I dealt with the supervisors and coordinated with the architects during the day, then I went home, had dinner with the family, and sat down to watch a little TV -- maybe with a beer. Most often I had to skip the "fuck the wife" part.

My son Paul -- another graduate of the Private Clovis School of What a Man Can Do With His Asshole -- was out on his own. He had joined the Army like his Old Man and had gone on to become a lieutenant in a rifle company, but that left the Old Man without the morning satisfaction of sonny-boy's cock up his ass.

I hadn't seen my lover, Captain Eric Stempl, in several months, and I had a bad case of itchy ass. It wanted some monster to stretch it open. My wife craved Godiva chocolates and ate them every night. I craved some male chocolates, but I didn't get any, leaving me horny and frustrated.

To add insult to erectile-dysfunction, a section of beach near where we lived was a nudist beach. Of course this scandalized my wife, but we didn't know about the array of naked bodies until after the papers had been signed. My wife never went near the nude beach, and (sigh!) I couldn't, either. For one thing, a single recognition by someone from the town would probably bring an end to Life As I Knew It. For another, it was physically impossible for me to look at a naked man without raising my colors to full mast, so I would also have no chance of explaining my presence there as "an accident" or "losing my way." A tented swimming suit would reveal my intentions as well as my endowment.

The slapping sounds of jacking off had become my theme song, and my foreskin developed a handgrip shape the exact size of my fingers. How did I get locked into being a teenager again??

And of course, Brian caught me. What else can go wrong??

Brian was the new member of the family, my nephew. Two years earlier, my brother and his wife died in a car crash while Brian was away at a summer camp. After the funeral, he came to live with us, and we tried to help him get over the grief. Over time he appeared to heal. We had thrown his 18th birthday party the previous week. 

Brian was carrot-short and slender but still masculine -- good muscle definition, not a geeky skeleton or a smooth, girlish physique. He stood rifle-straight at 5' 2" and probably 145 pounds or so. He had blue eyes under bushy blond eyebrows, and his thin lips overcame the usual teenaged poetic, drug-addict look because he smiled a lot.

His jaw came to a handsome point with a movie-star cleft in his chin. He reminded me of a teenaged Paul Newman. Blond, wavy hair covered his head, and his chest had a fine dusting of it even at his age.

So with my hyper-horny frame of mind, I accidentally blundered in on him as he got out of the shower. It seemed like an accident but probably wasn't -- or at best unconscious. Damn, look at that boy!

In the split second after I opened the bathroom door and before he saw me, I memorized: Big nips, maybe two inches across, brownish-red . . . I glanced down. Damn!

When Brian slid open the shower door, he grabbed the towel hanging on the rod, and as he stepped out, the towel dangling from his hand hid his cock. Damn! Damn! Damn! 

When he looked up and saw me, I had to say, of course, "Oops, sorry! Didn't know you were in here," and I had to back out and close the door. Shit! 

What in hell are you doing? Are you planning on coming on to your nephew?

Well, the hottest sex partner I ever had was Paul, my own son. Whenever he gets leave and comes home, he and I get it on.

You are thinking of seducing your brother's son! It's not the same! Paul was already gay; you just discovered it. Brian is straight. You would be betraying your brother's memory!

Then I felt like shit. It's true. No moves on Brian.

As Brian left the bathroom, a big, white towel piously covering his hips, I went in with shaving pushed to the back burner and a jack-off session suddenly #1. 

With fantasy visions of what might have been behind Brian's towel, I stroked my cock in short, sharp, violent strokes, banging against my groin with passion, jerking my cock full-length. I clenched my eyes in ecstasy as my torture reached a peak. My foreskin sang its flap-flap song as I went over the falls, and my legs spread apart. I spurted out my first stream of jizz--

--just in time to hear Brian's voice: "Oh, God, Jeez, I'm sorry, Excuse me!" And the door slammed.

Hey, what is this?? Why is all this shit happening to me? Was I Casanova in a previous life and now get punished for it? How come me alla time??

I knew the situation wasn't over -- it had another shoe to fall, and I was eager to see how I would handle it -- I had not the faintest idea. As I sat with Brian at the breakfast table, he avoided my eyes. My wife left the room for a minute, so I put down my coffee cup. "Brian, are you upset by what you saw in the bathroom?"

"N-no, I'm not. I'm sorry I walked in on you . . . I really am . . . but I'm not u-upset."

"Yes, you are upset. But why? You do it, too, you know."

"Yeah, but . . . but I never thought of you . . . jacking off!"

I smiled. "Come on, Brian, you know as well as I do that beating the meat is the one thing every man in the world knows about, no matter where he is -- or how old he is. Let's just lighten up about it. You saw me jacking off. I know you jack off. Life goes on."

"Yeah . . . life goes on."

Now would be the perfect time for my wife to come back into the room! The We All Do It speech is over.

But my wife lingered at whatever she was doing, and suddenly the ticking of the clock on the counter became deafening. Finally Brian spoke:

"Yours is so big. Can I . . . see it . . . again?"

Oh, shit, oh, fuck, oh, hell! I'm not going to come on to Brian; he's my brother's son! But oh, god!

I was so horny, my hand moved down to my zipper, but at that instant, my wife walked back into the kitchen. Fate had stepped in. I moved my hand away from my zipper. Damn! Damn! Damn!

I was amazed my wife could not feel the electricity in the air, but she just puttered at the counter with the pancakes. I had a hardon that tapped on the underneath of the table all through breakfast.

At work that day, I was so horny my balls felt like grapefruits, and as I grew hornier, I came closer and closer to trying for a man on the construction site. That was even more dangerous than fucking around in the Army. There was no privacy, no nearby woods, no hiking trails. If I hit on the wrong guy, my life would become a world of hurt, and that wasn't fear of being attacked by the guy -- I would lose my job, my wife would leave me, a thousand things would come unwound and snap back in my face. 

I could see the headlines: Angry Mob Beats Retired Special Forces Pervert to Death!

Somehow I've got to get my mind off sex! 

Don't be so selfish. Think about other people. What could you do to help people?

Yeah, that's right. I should think more about other people. I'm thinking only of myself. I'm a good guy. I should do something for humanity. Maybe for the underprivileged.

As a kid, boxing interested me, and in the Army boxing blended right in with the karate and self-defense training for the Special Forces. On active duty I still practiced classic boxing, working out at the post gym with the speed bags, skipping rope, and so on. I also took part in amateur boxing matches. While still a captain, I won a trophy or two in the Heavyweight category in the Brigade Fights. 

I had heard of a downtown athletic club that worked with underprivileged ghetto boys, and that gave me an idea. I gave them a call. The guy who answered became very excited. "Yeah, we would love for you to come down and work with the boys. We have a good facility, used to be a YMCA club years ago. Still has the pool, the gym, the locker rooms, and so on. A real Special Forces colonel to help the boys train! That's terrific!."

The guy was ecstatic -- maybe even a little over-selling. "It would be an honor to have you work with us, Colonel. The boys will be thrilled when they hear they'll be training with a real Green Beret. We'll call the newspapers, it will be great publicity!"

I chuckled. Town Honors Retired Green Beret Hero Who Helps Underprivileged Youth! "Well, I'm retired now--"

"--Same difference. 'Once a Green Beret, always a Green Beret,' eh?"

"I think that's a US Marine saying."

"Well, anyway, you're going to love this. No little-boy stuff. Our program is for young men 18 and older. If it's okay with you, we'll start you out next Monday!"

I hung up the phone. Retired Military Man Successfully Reduces Libido.

I got a haircut and shaved carefully my first day as a Mentor Of Young Boxers. At 7:00 p.m. I drove to the address. The building was in a tough part of town. Shabby tenements all around. The building itself was a run-down two-story red brick building, solid enough -- looked like it was built as a machine shop -- windows all over the 2nd-story wall, but very small ones and very high in the ground-floor wall. Still if it had been a YMCA, it must have been a seedy one.

Inside, though, the place looked a lot better -- a large pool, a big, wide room with punching bags and other exercise equipment along each wall. In the center of the room was a boxing ring. The "office" was a cubicle set off by movable panels at one corner. There I met Mr. Tanderlin, the director. Think of Woody Allen but tall and pudgy. He was a nice enough guy, but I kept expecting him to come across with a punchline.

He gave me a hearty welcome, though, and introduced me to the boys: a mixed bunch of tall, short, skinny, fat, muscular, flabby. Mostly blacks, a few Hispanics, a few whites, one or two Asians. One black kid seemed to be the leader. ". . . and this is Bobby Wollen. He's our star member." Tanderlin chuckled. "He sorta runs things around here."

Bobby looked like a young, angry Denzel Washington dressed in a pale blue wife-beater, a pair of red nylon shorts and silver sneakers. He had attitude. Used to being in charge. A stretch in the Army would either make or break this kid -- he was the sort who either made a great soldier or ended up in the guardhouse every weekend. I learned he was also known as "The King of Calomar" for the tenement building he lived in.

As we started out, we did the rope-skipping routines, the heavy bag, techniques for the speed bags, and so on. Everybody was having such a great time, I didn't notice the hour, and finally Tanderlin came out of the office cubicle to announce the club was closing for the night. "Oh, gee, we're right in the middle of a feint-fight. We'll leave in just a few minutes. Can you set the door so it will lock behind us? I'll make sure to shut off the lights."

"Yes, that will be okay."

About then I had to take a leak. "Be right back, boys. Have to take a leak." I walked over to the locker room and went in. The urinals were in a smaller room at the far end. 

It was an old building -- the urinal was a long trough along one wall. I stepped up to it and pulled out my cock. As I was pissing, Bobby stood beside me. I glanced over. Damn! That boy is hung! I blinked. What he fetched out of his pants had to be a good nine inches, and it was still soft! Sheesh, his mother must've gotten pregnant in a Tijuana Donkey Show.

"Big, ain't it?"

I couldn't believe my ears. Those are the magic words! But what could I say? Getting caught being mounted by a construction worker was one thing, but playing with this teenager's peepee could land me serious jail time. Damn. Wrong time. Wrong guy. 

But I didn't want to get off to a bad start with them by acting prudish and offended. "You're a lucky guy. Going to make some woman very happy someday."

I backed away from the urinal, tucking myself in. Does the torture never end??

Back in the gym, I had the boys go through some cooling-off routines, then sent them to the showers. Now's my chance! Eye-candy! I walked into the locker room with them. I watched a few strip down. I saw Bobby toss his jockstrap in the hamper at the corner of the room (the club supplied the towels, gym suits, and jockstraps for the boys. They just had to come up with a pair of sneakers. Then it hit me: Idiot! One of those kids says something to his parents about the new coach watching them in the showers, and I'll be run out of town on a rail!

Disgusting Pervert Found Ogling Boys in Locker Room -- Police Could Not Hold Back Outraged Mob

Damn. I walked out of the locker room and stayed out in the gym, closing doors and putting things away until the last of them had said goodbye and left. 

Then I checked out the shower room to make sure the water was turned off and the lights were out. I wandered over to the hamper. Bobby's jockstrap was on top. I recognized it. Bike #10. Size XL. Off-white color. My favorite.

I took a deep breath. It was still damp. Yellowed from long use and many washings -- but the yellowish stains on the pouch were new. Maybe even from tonight.

I held it to my nose. Ah, god. I inhaled. Strong, musky, masculine. A combination of sweat, piss, and maybe jizz. That heady odor of male pheromones. The smell of a young man's scrotum. 

Look at yourself, standing in a locker room with a jockstrap pouch over your face. You are sick!

It was true. Inhaling the fumes from a young man's jockstrap was sickening -- to anyone not so horny. In all fairness, the sight of a stained, raunchy jockstrap is a turn-on, but it's nothing compared to a big, deep-breath sniff of the wearer's crotch-musk -- like the statue of David on TV compared to standing in front of it and fondling its huge cock. 

I got so turned on smelling Bobby's jockstrap, I desperately yanked open my pants to get a grip on my throbbing dong before -- but too late! -- an orgasm washed over me, and I spurted a fistful of sperm into my underwear. Damn, that was good! I took the jockstrap home with me.

The next two days -- before my next meeting with the boys -- were torture. Every man I saw at the construction site was big, muscular, and oozing masculinity. And the damned days were so hot, many stripped off their shirts, giving me shots of big chests. Their big, brown nips were sexual headlights blinding me in the middle of the road.

I lived in desperation. Nobody could jack off in a porta-pottie -- the smell in there would make a maggot puke -- so I had to keep shutting myself in the nauseating place -- anything to siphon off some of my horniness. 

When I was signing some requisitions, Carmody, the big, bald, broad-shouldered Cajun stood beside me with another paper to sign. Oh, shit, oh fuck, oh hell. Inches away from me as I bent over the desk, his body radiated a heat that burned the side of my face. With a godlike torso covered with a thatch of coarse, brown hair, Carmody could have posed for a Gold's Gym ad. 

I gulped. Sweat ran down my face. Couldn't stop myself -- I glanced over . . . at hard, jutting pecs like gun turrets, brown aureoles maybe three inches across with nipples sticking out like little arrows aimed at my fevered brain. If this were a torture chamber, I would have yelled uncle and signed the confession hours ago.

When I finally initialed Carmody's paper and he walked away, I couldn't catch my breath. I had been clenching my asshole for so long it ached, and when I finally released, yet another spurt of pre-cum wet the front of my pants. 

That day I wore khakis. I glanced down. Oh, shit! 

I snatched a can of Coke from Wilson's hand. "Here, gimme a swig of that! Oops!" I dumped it in my lap. Wilson snatched it back and walked away muttering angrily, but at least I had a reason for the big wet circle in the front of my pants.

That night I begged my wife to let me in. God, I was horny. Nope. "Oh, Honey! I've got a headache!" 

Again the headlines: Retired Army Colonel Dies of Mysterious Exploding Scrotum!

The next day was 100% horny anticipation. By the time I was to meet with the tenement boys again, I had resolved that I WAS going to watch them in the showers! And Bobby. If I get another hint from him, I'll have his pants down to his knees so fast he'll hear a sonic boom!

I even arrived a few minutes early, hoping to catch a few in the locker room changing from their street clothes. Nope. They were all doing workout routines, waiting for Coach to arrive. Nuts.

We spent the night in various training exercises, how to hit the punching bag, footwork, practicing jabs, crosses, uppercuts, etc. At the end of the evening, again we were running late, and again Tanderlin told us to stay on and lock up when we left.




The Colonel Ch. 05



While they were all at their exercises, I wandered off to the locker room to take a piss. Hoping.

Nope. Nobody came in while I was there. When I returned to the gym, the boys were standing quietly in the middle of the room. "Finished with the exercises?"

"Well, not with all of 'em." Bobby's voice behind me had a sneering tone. I didn't see anybody give a signal, but all the boys jumped me at once, grabbing me from behind, from both sides, and lunging at me from the front.

They grabbed my arms, but I slipped out and threw a couple of them back. But others got a grip around my waist, pulling me back, and I lost my balance. We fell, and on the way down, more arms wrapped around my neck in a headlock. Suddenly I decided this was not some friendly horseplay.

I punched a couple of them, but I was mobbed so thoroughly, by the time I decided I should start throwing some injury-punches, I was pinned. A number of boys -- 10 maybe -- held all parts of my body. Several of them controlled my legs. I was bound with human ropes. "You stupid bastards, I don't have any money!"

While I struggled, lurching and writhing, they pulled off my shoes, unbuckled my belt, and pulled down my pants. One at a time the boys holding my legs let go for a moment to let the pants pass their stations. "Boys, boys, what's come over you? I don't have any money! You can go all through my pockets and won't find a dime!!"

Bobby brought up a knife. Oh, shit! Inner-city Hoodlums Slay Volunteer Coach! I struggled, but they had me. Goddamn! To survive a life of combat in the Army and be executed by a bunch of boys! 

But Bobby used the knife to cut open my briefs, and he yanked them away! What? What in hell is going on here?? Who in hell keeps his wallet in his underwear?? Are these the world's dumbest thieves?

The boys looked down at me. Damn, I'm naked! Their eyes glittered. "Wow, so big." "Yeah." "Look at those balls."

Then Bobby cut away my shirt, and I really was naked. All those eyes on me made me feel like meat on display in a butcher shop. Wait a minute! Don't tell me this is . . . a rape?? "Boys, boys, hold on, you don't under--"

Bobby knelt between my legs as the boys spread them apart and wiped that big cock up and down my ass-crack. "Lube!" he grunted, and one of them swiped something slimy over my asshole. Then he pressed his cockhead against it, and I bit my lip. This is working out better than I could have dreamed! 

I stiffened up. My asshole had been reamed out years before by Clovis, and I could take anything short of a beer can, but it had been a long time. Bobby's cock was a nice one, and he gave me some yipes as he rammed it in.

I was turned on, though, panting, my ass on fire from anticipation. Then I saw the flash and hear the click of a camera. Oh, fuck! "Bobby! Don't do this to me!"

"Do what to you?"

"Don't . . . fuck me!" Actually I meant to say "Don't fuck me by taking pictures; the screwing is fine" -- it just came out wrong.

"Too late, old man. My cock's in you. I just got your cherry."

"Wait, Bobby, don't take the pic--"

"--And something else, old man. They say that once a man gets fucked by another man, he's turned. Can't ever go back. Craves cock from them on."

No shit, Sherlock? You're just a couple years too late. "Please! Bobby, please! Let's . . . let's be friends. Don't do this to me. Don't take more--"

"--What's the matter, big guy? Afraid you might get to like it? Let's see . . . " He held his cock quiet in me, and I relaxed my ass -- as if I were adjusting to the size of his cock. After a couple of minutes he lunged again. Another couple of inches slid inside me, and I gasped, "Bobby, please! I'll do anything you want! Just give me the--" 

"--You're right, old man." He shoved in another length of cock. "You're doing anything I want. I'm in you to the balls. You're fucked now. I got your cherry, and your ass is mine!"

Goddamnit, they don't get it! I want to get fucked! -- but my mind went blank in mid-thought. Bobby began pulling his manhood back out, and the slow, sensual, almost drunken movement of his cock over my painfully stretched asshole sent astonishing, shuddering, glorious jolts of ecstasy through me! Oh, yes, OH, GOD, YES!! 

When the butt-plug of his cockhead pulled up against my clenching asshole, he stopped and began another in-stroke, and -- Oh, yes, yes!! -- the pure pleasure set my whole body on fire!

Bobby's strokes grew faster and faster, and the delight was unbearable. Soon I was panting like I had run around the track, and sweat ran off my chest and down my sides. I looked up at him in a daze. So long, it has been so, so long! He lunged in and out, in and out, in and out, and I rolled my head back, my mouth open, breathing hard. 

I saw the light of another flashbulb! Fuck!! "Bo-Bobby! . . . Plea-please! . . . Have mercy! . . ."

"What are you afraid of, old man?"

"Pl-pl-please!! . . . Oh, god! . . . Don't . . . take more--"

"Don't take more of your manhood, old man?"

I couldn't deny it, this kid was good, and the great crescendo started. My body went out of control. Breathing in rapid gasps, my fingers splayed out over the hard gym floor, searching anywhere for a grip, and my hips slammed back at him, matching his strokes, working with him, driving him in deeper. Another flashbulb went off! "God! Oh, no!" I screamed. "Help! Help meeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

What an orgasm! I had gone so long with no man-sex, the power of the climax was scary. Like a butterfly the size of a seagull fluttering in my ass! I stiffened, shuddering, eyes rolled back in my head, mouth open gasping for air. 

I couldn't stop myself: my legs joyfully wrapped around his waist, pulling him -- and that devastating cock -- deeper into my molten ass while my own dong catapulted a scrotumful of sperm that splashed up against his chest and fell back onto me.

Bobby was still fucking the hell out of me, and with every stroke into my glowing, buzzing ass, he prolonged my orgasm! After my ejaculation, the fire burned back only slightly -- I was still in helpless ecstasy! Mindless and limp below him, I was completely in his power as he continued to fuck me!

I tried to struggle back to full consciousness, but all I managed was a drugged, "Ahhh, god!" and I fell back to wallow in the pleasure. Damn, was I horny! I hadn't cummed this hard in years! Bobby's hard meat kept me lightheaded, barely conscious; all I could think about was how god-awful WONDERFUL it felt!

Bobby's face clenched up, he shut his eyes, and he lunged hard into me. A beautiful, glowing warmth spread up into my guts. I almost passed out. God, what a bliss!

I was tamed. I lost count of the camera flashes-- so what the hell -- I relaxed and enjoyed it. Those boys had turned me into a limp rag on the floor -- a rag wrapped around Bobby's big, masterful horsecock. That ecstasy, kept alive and boiling by Bobby's thrusts, was still in full force when he pulled out that wonderful organ. Like a whirring electric motor whose cord is suddenly yanked from the wall, my bliss started winding down, but slowly, by degrees, like a big motor.

I could not hold it back -- I whispered weakly, "Wow." 

But before my afterglow faded -- Wham! -- another boy took Bobby's place, and a hard cock surged up into my ass again and -- God in heaven!! -- the ecstasy cranked up again! I instantly fell back moaning, writhing, in speechless passion.

To cut a long, hard, ejaculating story short, every boy in the club had me that night. I lost count of how many. They replaced each other at my ass so fast, my ecstasy never died down. Those boys had me in drunken, aroused pleasure for two solid hours!!

I don't know when they stopped holding me down. All I remember is that I readied myself for each boy who climbed onto me -- I pulled my knees up to my shoulders and spread my legs wide for him. When he was thrusting into me, driving me to another orgasm, my legs wrapped around his back to urge him on.

Neither do I remember the first one to stick his cock in my mouth. By then I was helpless, in constant ecstasy as boy after boy fucked me. When something touched my lips -- Yes! -- I licked the head of the cock then slid my lips further down the shaft and bobbed my head. When its owner started breathing in rapid gasps and came in my mouth, I gulped down his slime like Chateau Lafitte Rothschild.

Many times three orgasms hit me at once! As one young man blasted his sperm down my throat, a kid at my ass jolted my guts with his sperm, and my own orgasm sometimes triggered by theirs. My toes curled. What orgasms! I was a block of solid male ecstasy connected to reality only by the cocks in my mouth and ass. 

When the last boy finally pulled out, at long last allowing my sex-motor to wind exhaustedly down, I was drenched in sweat, worn out like I had gone 30 rounds. And I learned something else! Multiple orgasms! I got them from my asshole!! I'd never been gang-fucked before. Not for that long. God, I can cum over and over, just like . . . a bitch. 

As the healthy boys stood around me, I really felt like a bitch -- the men had fucked me and fucked me good, and I was a worn-out piece of meat. When I rolled over and tried to climb to my feet, I couldn't. Too fucking exhausted. God, this was fine! 

Bobby looked down at me. "We'll leave the door open for you, old man. When you can drag yourself out, make sure it locks behind you."

"You bastards," I panted weakly. "You raped me." I don't know -- somehow it seemed like the appropriate thing to say. They had enjoyed the rape (so had I), so to come out with "I wanted it all along" somehow sounded like sour grapes and a feeble attempt to salvage my "lost self-respect." I'll just go along and later on let them think they've changed me to the Dark Side.

Bobby had a surprise for me. "Oh, I don't know if it was rape. These pictures show your legs clasped over my back." Oh, shit! I forgot about the Polaroids! "This one shows you holding on to Doug's shoulders. In this one aren't you holding your legs apart so Brett can climb on?"

Bobby smiled. "I'm thinking you might be getting a taste for this. Be back here at the scheduled time, and we'll go on with more 'training,' if you know what I mean."

With that, they all filed out of the gym, leaving me lying on the floor in a pool of sperm that was still leaking out of my ass. Although I had been rid hard and put up wet, I still had enough strength to stagger into the locker room, where I snatched several jockstraps from the hamper. I sucked the jizz from one of them, and as I pulled my pants and shoes back on, I stuffed the others in my pocket.

Weary and sore, I walked out to my car and drove home. My wife was already in bed. I hit the pillow beside her and went out like a light. 

But I had dreams: I was a statue, a nude statue, and I was attacked by a gang of boys with chisels. They chipped away at me, finally chopping off my cock. I was horrified. But I couldn't move. And instead of pain, it felt ecstatic. 

Uneasy and troubled, I tossed and turned. 

Then I was a giant penis, a huge worm crawling along behind Bobby, who held a leash connecting to a collar around my neck, squeezing my foreskin up into a big, puckered frame around my face. Bobby turned around and put his foot on me, crushing me. It felt wonderful!

I rolled over, slugging the pillow into shape and tried to go back to sleep. 

I was walking through the gym. Suddenly I realized I was naked. I tried to turn around and hurry into the locker room to put on something, but I couldn't. I had a leather collar around my neck. A chain attached to it, and at the other end of the chain was Bobby. He was naked, too.

His cock stood out hard and proud. He yanked on my chain, pulling me to him, and when I got close, I stumbled and fell to my knees. Right in front of my face was Bobby's big cock. With another yank of his chain, I opened my mouth and sucked it in!

I woke up in a cold sweat! I sat up in bed, trembling, seeing maelstroms of hard teenaged dicks floating in the air around me. 

"Honey, what's wrong?" My wife rolled over and looked at me.

I couldn't explain. How could she know what sex-starvation can do to a man's sanity? "I'm okay. I must have eaten something bad."

"How were the boys at the club?"

God, what can I say? "Good boys. Very good. Very athletic. They really wore me out."

"It smells like it. You need a shower. What did you do, fall in the dirty clothes hamper? You smell like a gym sock."

Jesus! "Oh, I . . . ah . . . had to help them with the laundry . . . machine broke down . . . had to haul it all over to a laundromat."

I lay back, closed my eyes, and went back to sleep. 

Another dream: Bobby was cumming. Cumming inside me. Pumping me full of his boy-jizz. His ejaculation was unending. Filling me up. I could taste his dick-liquor in the back of my mouth. I looked down. My belly was swollen and distended as Bobby continued to pump me full of his sperm.

I realized I was pregnant. Bobby had knocked me up. "No," I gasped, "I'm a male!" He smiled back at me. "But you're our bitch now." Still he pumped his juice into me. "You're bearing my son." And he kissed my lips.

And that gave me a wet dream. I woke up to my cock spurting into my boxers. Jesus Christ, I am turning into a perv! What in hell kind of a dream was that??

(to be continued)

~~~



The Colonel's Daughter, 2011



Lana touched herself almost every night to fantasies of her father, the Colonel, a strict disciplinarian she'd developed an insatiable fantasy for, imagining him going past just reprimanding her.

Generally a kind man, it was when he became stern with her Lana she thought about, that made her warm inside, that made her hunger for it. She would get so hot, so wet with anticipation purposely doing things to be scolded for, and then the waiting for him to find her, to scold her, to punish her, all was, well, so perversely delicious she'd quiver and shake building a nervous sexual energy anticipating, plotting, how she'd provoke him again, and again. 

Thrilling, her little secret, her father giving her pleasure he didn't even know he was giving her, her secret, that none of the house help knew, that made Lana so hot and wet her nipples would tingle and become erect and hurt as she awaited being reprimanded for one thing or another. 

He was in her, his voice making her body hum. Tonight she was especially horny, her pussy hot and tingling deep inside her belly; she'd have to resist rubbing herself off, the tension so utterly amazingly hot, building in her to the point where she intended to prod him further, curl her lip at him, to set him off.

For years she would run back to her bedroom her bottom red and stinging through her dress, the silken burning impressions of her father's bare hand stinging red, thrusting her fingers inside her knickers, cumming almost immediately to images of her father spanking her, scolding her, putting her in her place. She'd drop her knickers and turn to see in the mirror the welts he'd left, his fingertip's wrapped so terribly around her legs, her soft hips, satisfied and pleased with herself, the burning wounds a badge, his fury, his power, burning deep inside her hot little cunt. 

She'd go riding after to prolong and re-injure her bottom, aching from the bruises as she bounced on the wide back of her horse. The pain compelling her to rub harder into the saddle, making herself cum harder, especially in front of her riding trainer, the woman oblivious trying to correct Lana not realizing her words were pushing Lana over the edge. Even as Lana shuddered and thrust into the saddle, banging into the horse's gait, to images of her father lashing her legs, her bottom, even her back. She came, to the long leather reins dangling into her groin, lapping at her through her thin white cotton riding pants pulling so tightly between her legs, her nipples so swollen and hot they could burst, her hot little cunt bouncing into the leather saddle.

She couldn't admit it even to herself at first, that her rebelliousness, her hostility, her anger, was her denial of how much her own father turned her on, and her inability to openly acknowledge it to herself that she wanted him to reign her in, that she wanted him to take control of her, that she wanted him to stop her served to enflame her all the more. That he could, turned her on so much she didn't know exactly what she wanted, her frustration mounting, her having to bury her fingers inside herself, pulling at her nipples, images of her father's stern face making her cum. 

She knew she was being difficult, she couldn't stop herself, fearing if she wasn't she'd lose all control; the intention to provoke kept her from going fully into the chaos admitting she would want him even without giving him reason, fearing he would reject her desire to be openly punished for no reason other than the sheer ecstatic pleasure of it, even if he didn't know.

He often threw her over his knee telling her she had become an impetuous child, when really she was manipulating him into again pulling her over his lap, sometimes twice in one day. 

Though she struggled, though she yelled and screamed at him to let her go, it's what she wanted, her flowered panties soaked through by the time he let her off his lap.

Sometimes she'd struggle so much, so that her dress would ride high enough over her bottom that it didn't pad the blows, her father's hand making direct contact with her pantied bottom, sometimes with the backs of her bare legs. Sometimes she'd try to move just as his hand was coming down, in hopes he'd touch her directly between her legs, or wriggle just so, tempting him, knowing he must see the wet stain of her panties between her flailing legs, wishing, willing him to press his fingers into her hot wet pink little slit under her panties. The mere thought would make her arch her back, cum on the very next blow of his big hand. 

Sometimes he'd just lecture or scold her, which she equally enjoyed, each and every word getting her closer. How she'd stand there in front of him, seemingly listening to him but really just focusing on the warm sensation sweeping through her belly the tone and temperament of his voice causing her mind to reel, her nipples to grow hot, the feeling deep in her belly she relished, the sensation of her getting wet so incrementally powerful it almost became like prayer, wanting him to know. 

Her arousal was so plain to her it made her angry at him for not noticing, for not responding, at herself for feeling the way she did, for having the thoughts she did; how dare he turn her on like this, how dare he not make her cum, how dare he make her so hot, how dare she have these thoughts at all.

***

Coming back from college during break, Lana remembered perfectly when all this began.

From the time she was little, she'd witness, first with her stepmother, and the staff, the men who would come to the house, how it began to turn her on, the power her father wielded, how he took charge.

That was the phrase she'd repeat to herself in her thoughts.

How he took charge.

She'd tell herself anything to deny it made her wet, that final barrier, father and daughter.

The Colonel at some point realized the affect his scolding had on his lovely Lana. 

He'd observed her drift off as he raised his voice, how her eye-lids would half close, how she unselfconsciously rubbed her legs together her hands clasped in front of her.

He recognized she would run to her bedroom afterward, a ritual. He knew fairly quickly that, her moans and whimpers emitting from inside her closed door, echoing from down at the end of the long hall, were not though tears and sobs.

He could tell what his words did to her. When with her hands clasped in front of her she would squeeze her shoulders together, how her nipples mounded through her blouse, how she'd tighten her arms, her shoulders turning inward as if she were trying to rub her upper arms over her nipples, which she was, without being aware she was, or to even realize her father would notice, as if he'd never seen a woman as aroused as she was, as if he wouldn't himself be aroused.

He saw how as he'd raise and lower his voice, she'd press the heels of her palms against her mons, the slight turns of her hands so obviously rubbing the cleft of her slit, the creamy wet slipperiness already between her legs as she pressed against her swelling clit through her fitted skirt. He did see how wet her panties were; he did imagine touching her, worried she would feel how hard he was under her warm soft little belly over his lap. 

Lana knew she was touching herself in front of her father, however, she thought inconspicuously, she didn't believe her father knew. When he asked if she understood why he was scolding her, she'd just nod, sometimes purring a slight "nnn-hnn, yes Daddy" in answer, already drifting into that place, already her eyelashes fluttering, her face flush, fully knowing she hadn't at all, which was perfectly fine for her father, he would have reason to scold her again.

Lana didn't realize how her father had also taken to clasping his hands in front of him as he reprimanded her. How he hid his erection behind his tightly tailored suit-jacket covering his waist. The harder he became, the louder or more severe his scolding would become, and how sometimes he'd become so powerfully intense Lana's legs would tangle under her as she came in shuddering concentrated little waves right in front of her father.

He could detect the scent of her warm sex, and once, himself rubbing his cock with the heel of his palm, his hands clasped in front of him, he came, right there in his slacks, right in front of Lana, her eyes closed, only realizing something had changed when his voice changed momentarily to a groan snapping her out of her own reverie. Lana opened her eyes, her father trying in vain to recover; they looked at each other and he knew she saw. Everything was different from then on.

Before long, they both became practiced. Lana's father intoned each word with perfected pitch until Lana's eyes would close altogether, her lips slightly parted, her breathing deep and ragged while he rubbed his cock brazenly in front of her. His one hand clasping the wrist of the other, his free hand openly squeezing, rubbing, pulling on his engorged cock through his slacks his scolding a certain perfected choreography. He watched his daughter react, her body shake and quiver, her lips tremble, how hard his cock would get when she'd bite her lower lip listening to his chastising.

Lana too was brazenly rubbing herself behind her clasped hands, her little fingers turned upward behind her clasped hands, rubbing, sliding back and forth through the cleft of her damp little slit, over her clit, her panties increasingly wet under her long thin summer dress pulled tight at her waist. It was as if with her eyes closed he couldn't see her dress clinging to her, pulled tight into the v of her groin, her hips almost imperceptibly rocking, her body subtly jerking and shaking to the damning music of his voice.

Before long, they were essentially collaborating in their mutually relished performance. Lana would act out, to be punished. Her father would invent new ways, new scenarios by which they could bring each other off without touching one another, or admitting this was what they were both doing. 

That unspoken thrill of pretending the other didn't know charged their relationship with an electricity other's didn't recognize for what it was.

***

A year after she had graduated from Oxford, Lana came home to help care for her sick aunt. One evening the Colonel wanted to talk to her about how she had treated her stepmother at a recent family gathering. 

The way the Colonel approached her, the way he said it the look on his face was like an erotic jolt brushing through Lana's awareness. So many memories came flooding back. She felt little again, felt her heart race, her pulse quickening, the slipperiness between her legs return, her breasts humming with electric tingles. She became suddenly self-consciously aware, fearful she'd be discovered when her father already knew, her pussy quivering, her nipples so suddenly hot, her breasts so suddenly swollen, burning, the familiar slippery warmth now pouring from between her legs. 

Lana flushed and nodded, looking into her father's eyes with a mixture of sumptuous erotic excitement and imploring anticipation. The Colonel felt his cock hardening, rising in his dark slacks, his balls tingling hot so full of cum for his little girl. 

Behind closed doors in her father's study, the Colonel said he didn't think she was really hearing him when he was reprimanding her. His pauses were intentional, deliberate, watching, studying Lana's expressions, knowing he was taking her to that place again. He told her it was time she receive a more thorough punishment, and watched as his daughter's body visibly shook. 

Lana was already wet being called into the Colonel's study, following him, now, these years later, her entire body humming with excitement. She looked straight ahead, at her father, but inside, she was a churning well of heated perverse arousal. It had been a long time since her father had punished her. She'd missed it. She'd tried to provoke boyfriends that way, but none of them understood. She was so surprised and so intensely aroused she felt herself become so aroused she felt light headed, as if in a dream. She felt her breasts swell under her blouse and her nipples become even harder, achingly desperate to be pinched and pulled like she would do in bed at night, almost every night dreaming of her father. 

She looked toward the Colonel, into his eyes and then demurely looking down, wondering whether he saw how hard her nipples were, whether he could smell her heat, whether he saw her rubbing the heels of her palms into her pubis, how she turned her wrists so subtly to press into her clit, her father, a certain nervous sexual energy in her that he picked up on, that she was unable to harness, to restrain, to keep hidden that brought our a beast in him she recognized and longed for. 

The Colonel began. 

He couldn't after all let her, his daughter, go on to marry still behaving as she was, could he, that, she couldn't go on to behave this way with her husband, or her husband would have to punish her as well.

Lana shuddered, her nervous sexual energy radiating from her like pheromones, imagining how wonderful that would be, her father and her future spouse both punishing her how she'd find ways to be deserving of both; she saw herself still returning to her father's house, even after she was married.

Her father saw her body's long familiar natural reaction to his words, his voice the signal of her nervous energy; his cock ached, hard and throbbing under his slacks, hidden by his suit jacket. He was as excited as Lana, his cock dripping pre-cum, knowing what Lana didn't know. 

He delighted in little had changed. He had jerked off so many times thinking about her while she was away at school, images of his daughter, disciplined, obedient, kneeling in front of him, asking him, to take him into her mouth, his beautiful daughter, sucking his cock, her wild sexual energy, her need to please him, to suck him harder, to make him cum in her beautiful warm little mouth.

Lana nodded, a faraway look in her eyes. 

"Good girl," he said abruptly. "Then we should begin your training immediately."

Lana's eyelids fluttered, she felt flush hearing him say, my good girl. 

It started with the Colonel scolding her much as before, but now, standing in the middle of the study, the door closed and locked, as she would glance at him he would increasingly stringently tell her to stare straight ahead. Her nipples throbbed. He'd not been this demanding before. 

He would walk around her his voice raising and lowering, sometimes booming causing Lana's insides to quiver as he'd brush against her, sometimes even bump against her bottom the touch sending waves of vibrating feelings between her legs causing her to draw in her breath. 

Her father hearing the shuddering escape of air from his daughter, her sighs, felt his cock ache and throb as he passed close enough to smell her sexual heat. He longed for that moment each day.

Sometimes he would tell her to stand with her hands clasped behind her; he didn't want her able to touch herself. He'd brush by her, purposefully dragging his shoulder across her swollen hot nipples, their both pretending he wasn't purposefully letting his fingers dangle and touch so perversely close to his daughter's cunt, her hips always pushing toward his hand as if she weren't.

Lana couldn't have anticipated her father the next day in his study telling her to bend over. She thought at first to spank her, and she felt that delicious anticipation course through her, wanting to raise her dress rather than feel his hand through the material, waiting for his next command. 

His plans for her though had become even more refined. She did as he told her, unselfconsciously spreading her legs to shoulder width, locking her knees, and bending from her waist, waiting for the first strike of his hand, her hands on the wooden back of a chair, her fingers curling around it, tightening, as her father's voice sent wave after wave of delicious, vibrating humming surges through her.

She became aware of the air movement of his passing by her flowing up under her skirt, between her spread legs, felt it tantalizingly swish up between and across her inner thighs, her skirt tight around her legs, hugging her soft little bottom, her thighs, her pussy underneath warm and wet. 

He just made her stand their like that, chastising her, telling her how she would indeed comply with his wishes, her bottom finally slowly swaying, her knees bending under the weight of her arousal, her hips subtly rotating, gyrating at the air, at his words, at the image of her father's steely hard erection under his dark slacks burning through her closed eyes. Her panties soaking damp and warm, her pussy dripping wet under her skirt, Lana was already cumming, the sheer pleasure of him demanding it of her, and him watching. The next time, she didn't wear panties.

Day after day, week after week, the scolding became a daily event. There was no longer reason for her to be punished. They both, father and daughter, began to need it, crave it, anticipate it, and Lana found herself looking at her father during the day, imploring, looking to him to signal when it was time, every scolding an escalating repertoire of her father's increasingly creative demands, and Lana's uncompromising willingness, within and under the pretense of her being scolded, for her future well-being.

One day, Lana sensed something different was going to happen, and she was right. She realized he'd brought her all along to this one place, this one moment. He had her stand, this time a few feet away from the wall, facing the wall.

Her father's voice moved around the room behind her, back and forth, getting closer and closer until he was standing behind her, his front pressed to her, touching her, the closest he'd ever stood. She didn't dare look behind her. Unmovable he pressed himself firmly against her bottom, his chest against her shoulders, his whispering hot growling voice right at her ear each whispering cruelty a loving slap causing her to quiver and shake as if she'd been physically struck, her knees weakening, her freshly shaven cunny tingling and dripping wet, her breathing deep and hard, her entire body alight with brimming pleasure. 

He threatened that he would have to take greater measures to assure her obedience, and she almost lost her balance. She could feel the heat of his breath, his intensity, his intention, the hardness of his cock pressing through the folds of her pleated skirt, against her bottom, and she again shuddered with a renewed wicked, heated excitement.

She felt herself flush, her perspiring, and her father noticed, too. She could barely breathe, her legs parted, her cunny bare and hot and dripping wet under her skirt, surprised, as her father suddenly tapped the length of the crop he often carried against the outside of her calf. He stepped back, tapped it on her soft hot skin, then harder, the leather stinging, against her outer thigh telling her to bend over as he had before, and Lana, naked under her skirt, her pussy quivering did as she was told, pressing her fingertips to the wall, her bottom pushing back fully into her father's raging hard cock, her tight skirt so firmly gloving her soft little bottom pressed up on her high heels. 

The Colonel continued talking, his thighs against the backs of hers, his legs pushing into the backs of her legs preventing her from moving. Their shared heat moist and hot and pulsing, transferring into each other, his groin pressing into her soft bottom, her hot little cunt, his cock standing upright under his slacks pressed firmly between her legs, his thickness pushing through the lips of her pussy radiating her feminine heat, the Colonel rubbed himself flagrantly into his daughter's up thrust bottom, rubbed himself over her heated cunt separated only by the thin material of their clothing, their shared slight movements becoming purposeful, subtle, albeit...unintentional.




The Colonel's Daughter, 2011



At one point Lana was so aroused she could barely stand. She bent further over until her father's erection rubbed forcefully against and into her dripping wet sex, her skirt now stained where he pressed into her. As she leaned even further forward, her palms against the wall, her fingers spread and bent back to support her, she could see only the texture of the red-orange fabric wall-covering. Her forehead pressed to the wall, her hot breaths taking away all of her oxygen, she noticed how tactile it was as she spun in her own heat, her palms sweating, her arms shaking, the texture of the wall keeping her from sliding. 

Her breath ragged, she leaned forward enough that she broke contact with her father's groin. Startled, her eyes blinking open, the sudden disconnect, she wasn't sure what would happen as he stepped back. Lana, intrepidly looking behind her, watched her father raise the crop and gushed out a breath of extraordinary pleasure at the sound of it crashing through the air. Gushed as it snapped against the right cheek of her bottom, as it whipped across the back of her leg, slow, deliberate, methodical, unmerciful. Quivered waiting for the next blow, as he again, and again whipped her, like a beast, savaging her animal body twisting in pain and pleasure. She reeled in an ecstatic slow motion, her body contorting one way and then the next from each swatting blow, the burn ricocheting inside her, fomenting her already insatiable desire for him, for her powerful father. 

The Colonel stopped long enough that she could straighten back up when she felt him slide the stiff leather crop up the inside of her calve to the back of her knee, unrelenting. The feeling itself tickled right through her hot little cunt, to her swollen aching breasts. Then he slid it along the inside of her other inner thigh, offering a slight tap, and another, signaling her to spread her legs further. He slid the crop higher under her dress, his breathing behind her and as ragged as her own, upward, touching her inner thighs, sliding it up and down her tingling hot skin, along her soft tender flesh. Lana was trembling, shaking with lust, cumming yet again.

The Colonel wasted no time stepping forward as she succumbed to her orgasm, pressed against her as she bent further over. He shimmied her legs further apart with the side of his leather shoes against hers her legs further apart to allow him more access to her dripping hot sex. 

Lana felt the head of the Colonel's cock protruding up and out from his slacks, touching up under the loose fabric of her skirt, pressing the fabric taut and bending her dress around the curve of her bottom, bumping, sliding, probing his daughter's spread open cunt with his solid hard erection again threatening to push through the thin fabric of their clothes. 

Lana bent her knees, lowering herself then raising, rubbing her bottom on her father's cock. She heard herself breathing, her sex vibrating, the slit of her pussy swollen and hot, slippery wet, her heart pounding, her father's breaths making her turn her face toward him. She wanted his mouth. She wanted him to kiss her, now, to kiss him, to slide her tongue into her father's mouth, for him to put his tongue in hers. It was the final perverse barrier between what would come next. She wanted to taste him, her father's kiss. She wanted his hard throbbing prick pressing into her sex, in her warm mouth.

Not having worn panties or a bra either this particular day, Lana was acutely aware of how her breasts jostled, shook under her blouse, swayed, rubbing, her nipples hot, and aching and swollen. How the material caressed them, touching so softly the tender swollen flesh of her breasts, so sensually against the inside of her silk blouse, her fathers cock rubbing, pushing, grinding into her swollen hot wet cunt, pushing between her legs.

She held back her moans until she couldn't any longer, gushing, a long awaited "Nnnnnggghh, Daddy, yesss," her juices running down the insides of her legs, her father pressing against her from behind.

She felt and then saw her father slide his crop along her sleeved arm, watched it slide back to touch to her cheek, just inches from her eye, and then slide along her outer upper arm, under, using the flexible stick to rub, touch, and grope her swollen hot breasts.

Lana was now openly grinding back against her father's cock, arching her back to raise her bottom so his cock would touch more of her, her father touching her swollen hot breasts with the crop, her rubbing her breasts against the long hard stick, her barely able to hold herself from the wall with her shaking arms.

She couldn't stand it, her father at last touching her breasts, wanting his hands, but salivating at the way he teased her, tormented her. She felt so hot, so alive, so hungry she rubbed and rolled her chest into the crop, dragged her nipples across it, a surrogate for his hands, her bare naked breasts under the thin silk blouse sliding, swaying, rubbing against the stick. Her father's cock-head pushing up against her, her father sliding the crop between her breasts, she pressed her shoulders together to capture it between her throbbing, aching breasts, so deliriously tempted to take its leather tip in her mouth as it slid up and down between her breasts, as it came so close to her face, to her open mouth. 

Seeing her lips open for it, her father put the leather tip to his daughter's lips, his hand and the crop sliding up between her breasts. Lana licked it, erotically, like it was her father's cock. Lana wanted to turn him on. She wanted to be his lover. She wanted to be her father's willing little whore; it made her even wetter to let go, to be so utterly sexually uninhibited, released at last by her father, to him, for him as he reached around her pulling her breasts together with his arm and hand, squeezing them around the riding crop as he ground his cock into his daughter's bottom.

So heated, she couldn't hold herself out from the wall anymore. Her father's weight pressing into her, Lana let his weight lean her hard into the wall, the side of her face pressed to the fabric wall-covering, her father pressing her even harder against it, her breath hot against the red-orange texture, her breasts smashed up against it too. The crop squeezed between her aching swollen tits, her father's knuckles rolling between her tit flesh, she thrust her bottom out at her father, his cock grinding into her cunt, his hips pushing into her bottom, his voice an exciting sexual growl, telling Lana what she would have to do, to please her husband, to be a good wife, an obedient wife, a good daughter, to know she had power in this too, instructing her how to best use it.

Little by little Lana slid her hands down the wall, her father thrusting his cock against her, until at some point she got up the nerve, the courage, to reach behind her, to the small of her back, to feel the head of her father's cock in her palm. 

She heard him groan as her little hand wrapped around him. She felt him slide it up and down through her fist, directing it to the groove of her dress pressed into her burning hot sex, raising her bottom, against her hot seething cunt, closing her fingers as it passed through her hand, trapping it in her downturned fist. She felt so powerful, her father's lover, his cock so hot and hard through the thin material of his slacks it took her breath away.

Her father's chest so hot on her back, his breaths like a wild animal, she slid her hand further down until her fingertips curled under his hot cum-filled balls, his groan making her quiver and shake, his length sliding up and down through her open hand, along her wrist. 

Her father leaned into her, leaned into the wall, his arms and hands on either side of Lana holding himself against the wall, grinding his cock into her hand, his voice deep, and resonant and hoarsely dry.

"Good girl," he growled, exciting Lana so much she began jacking her father's cock behind her, squeezing, pulling, their hot breathing opening a door between them. 

"Yes, good girl, be a good girl for Daddy, pull on Daddy, Lana, pull on Daddy's cock. That's my good girl."

In a frenzy Lana reached up and found the zipper of her father slacks, somehow pulled it down, reached her hand into her father's pants and frantically wrapped her fingers around his thick, swollen, throbbing cock.

She could hardly breathe it was so hot so hard so thick in her hand, pulsing in her little hand. She could feel his heartbeat, his cock throbbing hard in her fingers, smooth and soft gliding through her fist, slippery sticky-wet with her father's pre-cum pouring out over her fingers.

Her cunt swollen and dripping wet Lana reluctantly let go of him, her legs open, her knees bent, her chest and face pressed into the wall. Her breathing ragged and furious and hot, her bottom pressed up high, angled upward on the incline of the high heels of her shoes, in that moment she was all hot, dripping wet cunt.

Lana reached down and frantically and with both hands cinched her skirt up, raised her skirt, slid her skirt up over her thighs, over her bottom, her bare, pink swollen hot cunt exposed to the air, over her hips. Feeling the heat of her father's cock suddenly touch her bare skin, she gushed a quivering hot releasing breath, the thought of the secret of her father finally taking her, locked behind the doors of his study, her father fucking her, no one the wiser, none of the help knowing, the thought causing her to groan out a loud panting mewling urgent moaning "fuck me, Daddy."

She pressed her hands to the wall in front of her, lifted her bottom, opened her legs opened her aching hot cunt urging her father to fuck her from behind, to put his cock inside her.

Instead, she felt the flat of his fingertips push against her entire sex. He loved seeing her little bottom pushed up, her hot aching wet little bald cunt; she was all woman, and he was going to savor every moment of her. 

He used the flat of his fingers to rub in circles through her dripping wet sex, her soft warm creamy wet little pussy. He touched her so lightly, and then pushed into her, rubbing, sliding his hand over her shiny hot wet pink cunny until she was grinding into his hand, gushing again, and again in her father's hand.

"I see you shaved," he growled into her ear. "Good girl." 

Lana's knees went weak, slumping into the wall, her father's fingers pushing into her tight warm quivering hot little hole. Her father's fingers inside her, rubbing her swollen pussy, both desperate to have the other as he moved both his hands hot onto her upper thighs, pulling her into him roughly, then on her inner hips, pulling her up to him. 

Lana moaned as she felt the hot, thick bloated head of her father's bulbous swollen cock slide through her folds, a sensation she could never have imagined, become slick with her juices, her father's knuckles touching the soft insides of her tender thighs as he guided himself to her.

"Good girl, that's my good girl. Let Daddy inside you, lil baby. Mmm, so hot, so tight, Lana baby, Daddy's cock is in you baby, fucking into you Lana. Daddy knows you've wanted this for so long, haven't you baby? Tell Daddy. Tell Daddy how much you've wanted Daddy's cock in your hot little cunt. Ohhh Lana, so wet, so hot, yes baby take Daddy, take all of Daddy's cock, Daddy has wanted to fuck you for so long lil baby."

The splendid pain of her father's girth spreading her open, her cunny stretching, the pleasure as he went deeper and deeper, more and more, her pussy becoming accustomed, relaxing, opening to his relentlessly achingly inching his way inside her, her juices slippery wet, the velvety hot smooth hardness of her father inside her, fucking up inside her, giving way to the most indescribable sensation of being filled, of fucking, of having sex with her father, of being fucked by her father. 

Her insides hot, vibrating, squeezing and sucking him, hearing his voice, him breathily growling over and over. "That's my good girl. Let Daddy inside you baby, that's my good girl, yesss, ohh, lil baby, yess. Daddy's fucking you, that's my good girl take it lil baby, take Daddy's cock, my good little girl, so hot and tight and wet. My little girl's soft hot tight little pussy. My naughty little girl wants her Daddy's cock, don't you baby."

Lana felt her pussy flooding on her father's cock. She was cumming so hard, in such quick successions she couldn't speak. She pushed herself out from the wall, her legs straight, her back arched, her cunt open for her father as he slid inside her, fucking him back, his Daddy-cock, fucking her as he rubbed over her mound, rubbed her clit.

"Ohhhh fuck Daddy, yessss," she groaned. "in me, so deep, so big, nnnn Daddy, oh god Daddy" her voice rising as he slid his other hand up over her belly, slid his hand into her blouse. 

"Such a good girl, yes baby, let Daddy fuck you" groping her aching hot tits, the buttons popping off her blouse and bouncing from the wooden floor as she gushed again.

"Touch me Daddy, my breasts, feel them Daddy, pull on them," loving hearing him call her his good girl, his hot little girl, his big hands cupping the swell of her breasts, groping her breasts. Lana came, and came all over her father's cock.

"Nnnngghh, yesssss, cum on Daddy's big cock lil baby. Suck Daddy's cock with your tight lil cunny. That's my good girl," he whispered fucking his little girl, his daughter his raging hard cock deep inside his little Lana.

"That's my good girl. Daddy has wanted this for so long, little baby. We've both wanted this for so long. Let Daddy fuck you. Your cunt feels so good wrapped around Daddy's cock, so tight, and wet and warm for Daddy. That's my good girl," he growled as he pushed Lana into the wall, fucking his cock up into his little girl her skirt bunched around her waist, her blouse torn open her breasts smashing into his hands against the forever solid wall, his fingers pulling on her nipples, squeezing her breasts. 

Lana came again, her father's words making her crazy. "Yesss, fuck me Daddy. I've been such a bad girl, need you Daddy," wanting more than anything to feel him cum inside her. "My Daddy's cock, to...to fuck me, to make me a good girl, for you, Daddy," she hissed. "Fuck your little girl Daddy, fuck me with your big cock, punish me Daddy, make me yours Daddy," finally saying it out loud, in a burst of hot frantic breath "cum in me, Daddy."

Fucking his swollen thick hugely hard cock up inside her, faster, harder, deeper, stretching her open, Lana mewled and groaned into her father's ear. "Cum in me," she pleaded "cum in me Daddy, deep in me. Cum in your little girl, cum for me, cum for me Daddy, your good girl, let me make you cum with my hot tight lil pussy, my Daddy's good girl, cum in my little pussy, Daddy. I'll be good for you, Daddy. I promise. Please, Daddy, have wanted you for so long," she pleaded as she felt her father bury himself inside her, him grip her hips so hard, so tightly it hurt, his fingers digging into her, certain to leave red, bruised marks, recalling how she would brave the burning heat of her wounds in the mirror. 

He was fucking her so hard, so deep, all Lana could do was utter "Use me Daddy, use my pussy," cumming yet again as a slow long groan started low in his belly and rising, fucking his cock up inside her, lifting her from the floor with each thrust. 

"Use me Daddy," her breasts shaking to his thrusts, his groan captured in his chest, his cock expanding, thickening, so hard, and then exploding inside her, his cock buried so deep inside his daughter, his little girl, his groan pushing past his tightened muscles, his groin slamming into her bottom, panting, rutting together like wild beasts.

"Ohhh god, Daddy, yesss, use me, cum in me, cumming on you Daddy, cumming," fucking her father, his lifting her, hitting inside her, his groan vibrating her entire being.

"Mmm, such a good, hot, naughty little girl, such a good little fuck for Daddy, such a good girl, my little Lana. Oh lil baby, Daddy loves your hot tight little cunt. Mmmm, lil baby, Daddy loves fucking my little girl, cumming in my little girl. Oh Lana, baby. Daddy loves you, baby."

"Ooooh Daddy, yesss, fuck me, cum in me, use me Daddy," wanting to feel her father's cum shooting inside her. "Use me" she gushed again and again as she absorbed his groan, moaned with him, her voice high and urgent.

Lana reached back and gripped his clothing, held him in her by his waist, pulled him into her, pulled on him with her pussy, his cum blasting inside her. 

Panting, smiling hot breaths on the sides of each others faces, savoring, kissing over her shoulder, her father's tongue hot in her mouth, milking his cock, loving his cock throbbing and pulsing so deep inside her, her father's hands gripping her bare hips, his little girl's beautiful bare bottom, so warm and soft against her father's groin. 

His cock buried in his little girl, his chest sweaty hot through his clothes. His daughter's sweaty heat, him against her back, kissing her cheek, her hair, whispering to her "Ohhh, lil baby, nnnggghh, so good. My good girl, my good girl, Daddy's beautiful lil baby fucks Daddy so good," as they stayed like that, as Lana squeezed her father's cock inside her, felt that twinge again in her belly, in her cunny, pressed back at him as he hardened again in her pussy so hot and tingling and swollen slippery wet, swiveling her little hips to excite him, to incite the beast in him, to take her again. 

Lana squeezed her father's cock, her father's cock rock hard again so deep inside her, moaned as he gripped the back of her thigh and lifted her leg spreading his little girl open, pressed his fingers into the hot skin of her belly arching her into him.

"Good girl," he groaned, his cock gliding through her hot wet pussy clamping down on his erection. "Daddy wants you again, lil baby," he whispered so intensely Lana melted into him.

"Ooooh god, Daddy, yesss, fuck me," pushing her bottom into her father's long slow gliding thrusts spreading her open, feeling him so hot and throbbing hard, so big, stretched around his girth, her soft pink cunny wrapped so thrillingly hot and wet around her Daddy's rigidly hard cock inside her.

"I'll do with you as I please, lil baby," the Colonel growled hotly into Lana's ear. 



The Colonel's Last Day



Catherine got to her office and powered up her computer while she put away her purse and jacket. Then, she went around and said good morning to her co-workers and went to the water cooler to fill up her water bottle. Going back to her office, she logged on, started up her email and then the chat program associated with the email system. When the list of her on-line contacts showed up, she was disappointed to not see Blake's name there. Then she chided herself.

"Silly fool, it's his last day, he won't have time to chat! Now get to work!"

Catherine started working and tried to concentrate. Her mind kept drifting and always in the same direction: Blake. Blake Jones was their unit chief and had come to their unit five years prior. He'd been a breath of fresh air to a lot of people as he truly believed that the way to shine was to have your team shine, something very few unit chiefs before had believed in. Catherine had taken a liking to him almost immediately. He was intelligent, personable, and accessible. She'd learned a lot from him and appreciated that he'd always take the time to have technical discussions with her and others.

One of her coworkers had teased her, asking "you like him? As in like him like him? He's no Daniel Craig you know!"

Catherine had shaken her head "And I'm no Angelina Jolie. Who cares? It doesn't matter what he looks like, he's a great boss and I like working with him. Nothing more. Period."

Deep down, Catherine knew that she liked Blake more than just as a boss but she wasn't about to admit that to the other women who'd just cluck like a bunch of hens. Good thing the hens didn't know that Catherine and Blake had started chatting online a few months prior. Whenever she was caught chuckling in her office by herself, Catherine would admit to chatting with a friend but would lead the others to believe it was a female friend in a unit in another city. 

In the course of their chats, Catherine had joked that Blake's name reminded her of Colonel Blake from the series M*A*S*H. He had joked back that she could be Major Houlihan if he was to be Colonel Blake. It had become a habit of theirs to call each other Colonel and Major when chatting online. There had been some flirting between the two but nothing more than that as Blake, as unit chief could be fired for socializing with any employee. So they kept their chats and their light flirting totally discreet and secret.

Alas, today was Blake's last day. When he'd announced his departure, they'd joked that he should re-enact the scene where Colonel Blake had done his last inspection and had kissed Margaret "Hot Lips" Houlihan before getting on the chopper and leaving. Blake had told her that unfortunately, there was no way he could do that in public but that he sure wished he could.

Catherine shook her head and tried, once again, to concentrate on her work. It was already 11 am and she'd barely gotten anything done. Suddenly, a window popped up indicating that Blake wanted to chat. However, he addressed her by her given name, a sign that he wasn't alone.

"Catherine?"

"I'm here."

"I need a big favour."

"Name it."

Catherine was hoping he'd want to see her before the luncheon planned for him but she was disappointed.

"Mr. Roberts, one of our customers, is in reception and he'd really like a tour. Think you could do that for me? I know it's last minute but I don't have time and I promised to send someone. Please?"

"Sure thing."

"Thanks."

Catherine would do anything for Blake and he knew it. She went to the reception area and met with Mr. Roberts. She fully intended to make this a quick tour and make it to the luncheon on time. She took Mr. Roberts around and explained each step of the process. Mr. Roberts asked lots of questions, making the tour longer and longer, to Catherine's dismay. Blake was scheduled to leave at 12:30 sharp and with this customer asking so many questions, there was a very real risk here that she would not see Blake before he'd leave!

It was only at 12:27 that Mr. Roberts finally left. Catherine made her way to the stairs that led to the basement conference room where the luncheon was taking place, hoping against all hope that he hadn't left yet. She almost ran down the stairs and then, reaching the last step before the landing, froze in place. Right in front of her stood Blake. He'd been going up the stairs to leave. 

"You're missing the new unit chief's speech."

Smiling, Catherine saluted, as if in the army and said "Sorry Colonel, I was detained with Mr. Roberts."

"I'm sure you did a great job, Major. Now, ready for your last inspection?"

"Could he mean....?" Catherine wondered to herself. She swallowed and nodded, tense. Hopeful. Nervous.

Blake stepped closer and with one hand, grabbed her by the waist while the other made its way to her cheek and neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Catherine's arms wrapped themselves around his large frame and she held on as he tipped her back, kissing her exactly like Colonel Blake had done to Major Houlihan. Catherine felt this tremendous heat flood through her, accompanied by a very strong feeling, almost like an electrical current. Suddenly, Blake straightened up and broke the kiss. He mumbled "Goodbye" and moved past her, up the stairs. 

Catherine just stood there, almost in shock. This had been one of the best kisses she'd ever experienced and just like that, it was over. This kiss had left her shaken to the core and definitely wanting more. Too bad there could never be more. Realizing that the kiss had also left her quite aroused, Catherine turned around and headed towards the ladies' room instead of to the conference room.

The rest of the day was a blur. Feeling sad and totally empty, Catherine went through the motions of the afternoon. When the day was over, Catherine went home and put some quiet music on. She had no interest in watching tv or doing much. She thought of the kiss and felt herself go wet just from the memory. Figuring she could get herself off from the lingering physical memory of his body against hers, Catherine headed to her bedroom and undressed. She only managed to get the outer layer off when she was interrupted.

The sound of the doorbell annoyed her more than she'd ever been annoyed before. She considered ignoring it but the person at the door was persistent, sounding the doorbell once again. Grabbing her robe and putting it hastily on over her underwear, she headed to the door, fully intending on getting rid of whoever it was. She opened the door and gasped. It was Blake.

"Did that kiss satisfy you? 'Cause it sure didn't satisfy me!"

Without a word, Catherine let him in and closed the door behind him. Turning to face him, she was surprised to find him within inches of her. Again, he put one arm around her waist and with the other hand, brought her face to his, pulling her into another searing kiss. Catherine felt the same surge of electricity she'd felt earlier run through her, causing her knees to turn to mush. 

Blake broke the kiss but didn't pull away. Looking into her eyes, he asked "Now that I'm no longer your boss in any way, am I out of line in hoping that you're as attracted to me as I am to you?"

"I'm beyond attracted to you. Can I hope that you won't leave me hanging like you did earlier today?"

"Lady, if I hadn't left when I did, I would have taken you right then and there in the stairs."

"That would have caused quite the scandal!"

"Now, take me to your bedroom so I can show you what you do to me."

"Yes sir, Colonel!"

Catherine took his hand and pulled him towards her room. Once in there, she turned to face him and put her arms around his neck, pulling him into another kiss. As their tongues explored each other, their hands started doing the same. His hands made their way to her hair and pulled her braid apart, playing in her hair and causing her to moan gently. 

"You like that?"

"Mmmmm, love it."

"Good to know."

Catherine moved her hands down the front of his shirt and started undoing the buttons, pushing his shirt open. He helped by taking it off as soon as she was done with all the buttons. Then, he took his t-shirt off and reached for the ties of her robe, pulling them apart. 

"Wow"

He'd discovered that all she'd been wearing underneath was a thong and a lacy bra.

"Is that what you were wearing under your clothes today?"

"Yes."

"Oh God. It's a good thing I didn't know that until tonight. I would have walked around with a hard on all day had I known!"

"Well, we wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable, maybe we should free that hard on..."

Matching actions to her words, Catherine pulled on his belt and then on his zipper, slowly but surely getting to her goal of freeing his erection. Then, sounding like she'd just discovered a succulent piece of cake, Catherine sank to her knees and grabbed his cock, wrapping her fingers around its girth and quickly pulling him into her mouth. Moaning with pleasure, she took as much of him into her mouth as she could and twirled her tongue around his glans, clearly enjoying giving the caress as much as the recipient.

Blake wrapped his hands in her hair and pulled it away from her face. His own head fell back as he enjoyed her work on his organ. Catherine licked and sucked and used her hands to stroke the hard cock she was enjoying. A few times, he tried to pull her up but she refused to budge. Then she told him 

"I've been fantasizing about this cock for so long, there is no way I'm letting you take it away so soon!"

"What about what I've been fantasizing about?" He teased.

"Later. Haven't you heard of Ladies first?"

"Mmmm, good point."

And he let her do as she wanted with him for a while, enjoying it himself. Her lips and her tongue on his cock had him harder and hornier than he'd been in a long time and he longed to return the favour. She, on the other hand, had other ideas in mind. She gently pushed him back one step at a time, following him on her knees. She looked up a him a few times as she sucked his hard cock and played with his balls with her hand. When the back of his knees hit the bed, he almost fell back but caught himself.

Not satisfied with this, Catherine pushed herself up, never letting go of his cock in her mouth and she pushed him onto the bed. Blake sat on the bed and once again, pulled her hair away from her face. Still licking and sucking on his cock while bending down, Catherine took off her bra and panties. Then, she moved forward and wrapped her large breasts around his cock, using them to stroke him up and down.

Blake finally laid back and enjoyed her caresses. Then, she reached into her night table and pulled out a condom. Within seconds, she had his length wrapped in the condom and she was climbing on top of him, lowering herself onto his hard rod.

"Oh! Oh that feels good. I've been wet ever since you kissed me this afternoon and even though I could have nibbled on that big cock of yours for a while yet, I just could wait any longer to have it inside me."

"No complaints here, baby. You're so hot and tight!"

Catherine slowly moved up and down his length and moaned loudly, indicating her pleasure at his girth and depth. She then bent down to kiss him while her pelvis gyrated and ground against his hardness. 

He let her have her way with him for a while. Then, he couldn't hold back anymore. He just needed to take control so he grabbed her and flipped her over on the bed, pinning her under him for a short time. Knowing that his size could cause her difficulty breathing, he didn't stay there. He sat back on his legs and pulled her up against him, penetrating her deeply.

"Oh yeah Blake! Fuck me, baby, fuck me hard."

He obliged and, grabbing her hips, he pounded her drenched pussy, causing both of them delicious pleasure.

"Oh God, this is so good! Don't stop."

"Cath, I want to take you from behind."

"Okay"

They stopped for only the time needed to switch positions and when Catherine felt him enter her from behind, she held her breath and then moaned her approval.

Grabbing her hips, he pulled her towards him and buried himself in her. 

"I can't believe how tight you are baby, your heat feels so good around my cock."

Catherine could only moan in response. This man she'd been fantasizing about for so long was finally fucking her and it felt fantastic. She let herself get caught up in the moment, pushing against him, taking him all in and squeezing her pussy muscles around his hardness, building herself up to the ultimate goal.

It built up inside her, like pressure about to explode, getting hotter and stronger. Then, it let go, her orgasm washing over her with a rare intensity. As she clamped down onto his cock, he groaned and let go also, thrusting deeply in to her. When he was done, he pulled out of her and laid down beside her, pulling her close.

"Too bad you have to leave. I'd sure like to explore what else we could do."

"My plane isn't until eight tomorrow, we have until five in the morning to play."

With a smile, Caroline reached up and kissed him, thinking "Wow, Colonel Blake sure knows how to kiss!"

* * * * *

A/N: I'll leave the rest to your imagination! :)



The Colonel's Sexy Wife



This story was told to me by a friend. He claimed it was a true story that happened several years in the past when he was in the Air Force and stationed near London, England. I thought it was worth putting down in writing. I'm going to use the personal pronoun of "I" for writing this story. 

I worked in an Air Force Headquarters where there were many majors and colonels. I had the rank of Sergeant at that time. The colonel I worked directly for was a very nice and pleasant person. My job was to help him, "shuffle papers", and assist him in anyway I could. Sometimes I did personal errands for him when he was too busy to do them himself. I answered the phone most of the time and often heard his conversations. His wife called occasionally and I could easily recognize her voice. However, there was another female voice asking for him on rare occasions. When that happened, he turned his swivel chair around away from me and talked softly. From what little I heard, I knew he was having an illicit affair. Once he told me to be discreet and not mention anything about the calls. 

One day the colonel had just finished talking to his wife and turned to me to say, "Sergeant, would you do an errand for me?"

I responded, "Yes sir, what can I do?"

"My wife needs someone to drive her to the beauty salon. I would appreciate it if you would take my car and drive her there. She isn't used to driving on the left side of the road in England. She can drive where there isn't much traffic, but this salon is in a very busy part of town."

The colonel gave me the address and car keys. It was about a five mile drive and when I arrived, I saw a very large old elegant looking English home. I pulled up in the driveway and his wife came out the door to meet me. I had never seen her before, but I was impressed with her beauty. It was easy to hold a conversation with her as I drove to the beauty salon. About forty five minutes later, I drove her back home. She invited me in for a cup of tea and she wanted to show me the house. I accepted. I enjoyed the tea and talking to her. I think she was a little lonely by herself during the day since her children were in school and her husband at work. When we had finished our tea, she gave me a tour of the downstairs part of the house. She seemed reluctant to see me leave, but I had to get back to the office. By the time I arrived at the office, she had already called the colonel. The colonel thanked me and said that his wife thought I was very nice and was very much a gentleman.

The next week on the same day, the colonel again asked if I would drive his wife to the beauty salon. Of course, I said I would. I went though the same procedure and she invited me in for a cup of tea. She told me the upstairs had a lot of ornate woodwork and wanted to give me a tour.

We went up the stairs to see an unusually large bedroom. Not only was there a large bed, but there were several pieces of living room furniture. 

I commented, "Looks as if you can just live up here it looks so comfy."

"Yes, we spend our leisure time up here. Our children's bedrooms are just down the hall."

She gave me a tour of the other rooms, then we came back to the bedroom. She said, "I want to show you the dress I'm going to wear to the formal dance at the officer's club this Saturday."

She walked into the large closet, found the dress and held it up in front of her.

I wanted to complement her, "That is a very pretty dress and you look so pretty in it."

"Do you really think so?"

Now that I had complemented her, I had to continue saying something nice.

"Yes, you are very pretty and I'll bet all the guys will look at you when you go to the club."

She smiled and quickly responded, "You say the nicest things. Look in my closet, I have some other formal dresses."

The closet was large, but as we both walked in, our bodies brushed together. She showed me some other dresses as our bodies slightly touched. Then she looked me in the eyes at close range and said, "Do you really think I am pretty?"

"Yes, you are very pretty." 

We moved closer to each other and her lips looked so inviting. I leaned forward a little to lightly kiss her. I was all prepared to get my face slapped, but her arms went immediately around my neck. I pulled her body close to mine. We moved to the bed to plop on it in each others arms to kiss again. I unbuckled my pants and started pushing them down. One of my hands went up under her dress to feel her crotch. I tugged at her panties to pull them down and she began assisting me in getting them off.

My hard cock was about to burst out of my shorts. I pulled it out of the opening in the front of my shorts and rolled on top of her. With a little help with her hand and mine, I plunged all the way in since she was very wet. She gasped as she had an orgasm right away. After I had pulled back and plunged in a half dozen times, my cock began spurting and jerking in her pussy as I filled her with cum. Her body was shaking and surging with another orgasm 

Now that I had cum and my cock was becoming soft, I began to realize what I had done. I had quickly fucked the colonel's wife. Was I going to be in a lot of trouble?

We cleaned up, dressed and went downstairs. I knew I had better get back to the office.

When I left, she said, "Thanks for driving me to the beauty salon. There is so much traffic in that area, it scares me too much to drive there."

As I was going out the front door, I said, "You're very welcome, glad I could help."

While I was driving back to the office, I was a little worried the colonel would ask why it took me so long to take his wife to the beauty salon. I didn't have to worry because the colonel wasn't in his office. I left the car keys on his desk. When he came back to the office, he was so busy with other people that he never did comment about his wife or thank me for taking her. 

I was a little surprised when on the same day next week the colonel said, "Sergeant, my wife needs another ride to the beauty salon. Can you make it again?"

The colonel was my boss, and if he wanted me to do something for him, I'd better be willing to do it unless I had a good reason not to do it. That's the way the Air Force chain of command works.

I said, "Of course, I can take her again."

His wife and I made small talk on the way to the beauty salon and back to her house. As I pulled up in the drive way, she said, "Come on in and I'll make us some tea."

While we were drinking tea, we kept eyeing each other and smiling. I think I knew what she was thinking. When my tea was gone, I got up and walked to her chair, took her hand and pulled her to a standing position. I kissed her and she melted into my arms. We walked up the stairs as if we couldn't wait to get on the bed.

I stood by the bed and kissed her again. When we broke the long sexy kiss, she said, "Let's don't rush so much this time."

I knew I should get back to the office quickly, but I was so sexed up, I didn't care right now. We both quickly undressed and got on the bed. I kissed her lips, then her breasts. She took hold of my cock and moved to take it in her mouth. 

I urgently said, "Take it slow, I want to put it in you before I cum."

She licked up and down the underside, deep throated me once, then lifted up to smile at me to say, "Alright, let me get on top."

She impaled herself on my very hard and rigid cock I think she had an orgasm at that time. Then she leaned forward to let her breasts bounce up against my chin while she fucked me. I wanted to hold back as long as I could, but the way she was gyrating on me, I knew I would have a problem. 

I said, "Let's slow down and rest a minute."

She stopped movements, but then she pulsated her pussy on my cock. I couldn't wait any longer and started pushing up to her. As I started pumping cum in her pussy, her body was straining and soon started sexual spasms as she had an orgasm. 

After we both relaxed a little, she said, "Do you know if my husband is having an affair?"

That caught me without a quick answer, but then I said, "I really don't know much about his personal life. Why do you ask?"

"He doesn't want sex much anymore. I was wondering if he is having sex with someone else."

I didn't want to continue commenting on the subject, so I didn't say anything. 

I said, "I have to get dressed and get back to the office or the colonel will wonder what you and I have been doing."

She had an answer for that, "If he says anything to you about how long you have been gone, tell him I asked you to stop at a store and wait for me."

"Alright, I 'll use that as an excuse."

I continued to take her to the beauty salon each week and back to her house for a quickie before returning to the office. I finally found out the colonel was having an affair with another colonel's wife. Six months later the colonel's three year tour of duty was over and he and family transferred to the states. My weekly rendezvous for sex abruptly ended.



The Colonel's Toy Boy



Bob was a twenty two-year-old young man. He had left college and joined the military where after his basic training he was surprised to be assigned to become a chauffeur. His first posting had been for two months with an old duffer called Colonel Paul Kite. This man was an idiot nearing retirement, and Bob had enjoyed an easy time with him. After his summer leave, he returned to find himself given a long-term assignment to Colonel S. Harris. To his amazement, he discovered she was Susan Harris, a muscular blonde with heavy thighs and big fat breasts in her early forties. She travelled the country checking on accommodation for the various bases and it was Bob's task to drive her. 

She rapidly established herself as a pain in the neck with her demands for punctuality and discipline. After three days of being ordered around in a particularly rude pedantic manner and with the heavy driving load, Bob was desperate to get another posting as soon as possible. As they drove to yet another base for yet another long meeting, Bob looked in the rear view mirror at her. She was rifling through a sheaf of papers and Bob realised that with her large breasts and full lips, she was quite an attractive woman. She looked up and said, "Watch your speed soldier!"

Bob returned to his driving and hating her for her bossy rude manner. They arrived at the base and Bob found himself assigned a bed in the regular soldier's quarters for the night while Susan went off to the officer's mess He sat in a grim bar and fumed. He noticed a bottle blonde with a plump body named Peggy who was serving the soldiers and started to chat her up. To his surprise she responded. 

As the evening drew to a close, Bob offered to walk her home. As they walked, he (kissed) her and he found her mouth eager. They ended up in some bushes, Bob with his trousers around his ankles and her with her skirt up. He was on the point of coming when they were disturbed by the military police, torches blasting a rude light on their dark encounter. Peggy screamed and ran away and the military police tried to question Bob, but things rapidly got out of hand. Bob was arrested and spent the rest of the night in a cold cell. 

The next day, he was brought before an extremely frosty Susan, who said, "I have a full report about your misdeeds here soldier! I need you to drive me but when we return to our home base this will cost you many weeks in the cooler! Now get your things we are late!" Bob got his things and drove off an extremely worried man. A spell in the cooler would be extremely unpleasant as well as ruin his record and not for the first time he wished he could keep his dick under control. Apart from a short lunchtime break and Susan barking directions, they drove all day in silence. Finally as evening approached, she said, "There's base near here! Go to the nearest hotel!" Bob drove to a cheap roadside inn and soon both were booked for the night. To his surprise, they had rooms next to each other. Susan ate in her room while Bob ate a meal in a shabby restaurant adjacent to the hotel as he ate, he decided to speak to the colonel and to beg her to be lenient with him. Fortified by a few drinks, he left and knocked on her door. 

She opened it in uniform but without a jacket, Bob was looking at her large breasts inside her tight shirt when he heard her say, "Yes?" 

Bob felt his confidence drain away but hurried on with a garbled plea for mercy. When he finished, she glared and said, "I will think about it!" And then she slammed the door in his face. Bob stepped back and returned to his room. As he showered, he thought about the day and realised that she had not said no. He still had a chance to escape the cooler. 

As he stepped from the shower, he heard a knock on the door. He opened the door with a towel wrapped around his waist. It was Susan. She smiled and said, "Okay soldier do you want to discuss that report?" 

Bob gulped and said, "Yes but let me dress." 

"No need I know what a man looks like. Follow me!" Susan marched back to her room and Bob gulped but followed her. When he got in her room, she was sitting on a chair she said, "Your conduct should cost you three months inside and ruin your promotion chances. Agreed?" 

Bob was very uncomfortable standing dressed only in a towel but nodded in agreement as she continued, "I cannot obviously condone your conduct! The military police have a difficult job but I would be willing to ignore this report if you agree to another sort of punishment. Do you agree?" 

Again the embarrassed boy could only nod as he wondered what she had in mind. Susan said, "Your choice is to accept standard military punishment or to agree that for the next three months to be under my total control. No questions or refusals, do what ever I say! Okay pick!" 

Bob was amazed but knew that three months with Susan was a lot better than three months inside quickly said, "Three months with you!" 

Susan smiled and said, "If you change your mind, soldier I will get together a report which will convict you of rape and earn you several years of hell. Understand?" 

"Yes" was his feeble reply 

"Good now sexy remove that towel and do a few turns for me!" Bob gasped but realised that he was now committed and wondered what sort of things Susan wanted from him. 

He removed his towel and stood naked in front of her scrutinising gaze. She said, "Not bad! Now lie on the bed." Bob was relieved to lie down, as he felt less naked on the cool sheets. Susan approached him and started to strip. Her body was very muscular and her breasts were magnificent. Her pussy was covered by thick blonde pubic hair. She looked at the naked boy and said, "Three months to use and abuse you! Sexy, by the time you have finished pleasing me, you will wish for the security of a nice cell! Now play with your cute dick and get it fully up. I hate to see a man soft. It should be the law for men to be hard all the time!" 

Bob rubbed himself and was soon erect as he stared at the older woman in front of him. Susan was gently stroking her own pussy as she admired her prey. She said, "I am a real woman, not a cheap tart like the one who got you into so much trouble yesterday! I demand a lot from a boy and have a real dirty mind, as you will discover. You are going to go sexually to places you never dreamed of with me, darling! Now lie still and do not move. Remember, I am having you, not you me! If you want to come, do so. My vagina is strong enough to hold you in hard or soft!" 

She mounted him and inserted his dick into her surprisingly tight pussy. When he was fully imbedded into her she lent forward onto her elbows and kissed him. She started to move and rotate her pussy on him as he lay beneath her. Did she grabbed his hands and held them above his head as She rode him for five minutes and then came with a loud gasp. 

Bob was getting close and started to moan with passion under her. She continued to ride him, and said, "You can come if you want, baby, but I am going to carry on riding you!"

Bob exploded spunk into her as her powerful pussy milked him. When he had finished coming, he tried to pull out but her muscles tightened on him and he was kept deep in her tight wet pussy. He struggled for his freedom as her pussy rode his tender penis. Bob hated to be touched after orgasm and to be rubbed by such a strong pussy was total agony. To his horror he discovered that she was much stronger than he was and he could nor break free. He lied screaming with pain as his penis was roughly ridden. 

Susan said, "Told you to wait sexy! I am stronger than you in all ways just remember that for the next ninety days of service!" She continued to rape his penis with her powerful vagina as Bob moaned beneath her. As Susan rode him, giving herself another two orgasms, Bob found the pain diminished and was replaced by excitement as her powerful pussy rotated and squeezed him. 

For ten minutes his excitement grew and he begged Susan to finish and let him come again. She laughed and said, "No way when I screw, I screw for hours, sexy! Come if you want but we have only just begun! Remember toy, I am a real woman not a little weak girl!" When she came again, Bob could not hold back and joined her in pleasure that for him rapidly turned into pain as her insatiable pussy drove him ever on. 

Bob moaned, begged, and struggled but Susan held him down beneath her solid body and raped him vigorously, laughing at his distress. After a longer and more agonising time, the pain was again replaced by excitement and Bob knew the struggle against orgasm was starting again. Never in his life had he believed he would have to fight orgasm, but as Susan pounded away on top of him, he knew he must. She came every five minutes or so without changing her rough pace. 

Finally after fifteen minutes he could hold back to longer and twisted as a strong orgasm hit him. Susan said, "You must learn restraint, sexy, if you are to survive under me!" She clenched her vagina against him. Bob hoped he would finally go soft but her powerful vaginal muscles held him firm and erect as she continued to pound away on top of him. Soon waves of agonising pain were pouring from his trapped inflamed dick and he was again begging and screaming for mercy. 

Susan obviously found his torment arousing and as he screamed and cried. She started to have even more orgasms. The next forty minutes were hell for Bob as the siren used him as a human dildo. His pain was mixed with horror and trepidation at belonging to such a love fiend. However he tried, he was too weak to escape her embrace and his feeble efforts to break free only turned her on more. Then to his amazement, his distressed penis came. This orgasm gave him no real pleasure and was rapidly replaced by an even higher level of pain as Susan continued to rape his broken body. 

Another hellish forty minutes passed, and by now Bob reckoned Susan must have come at least thirty times. Surely soon her pussy would be satisfied. Then his tormented penis came again and this time it was definitely not a pleasure for Bob, who screamed in total agony before blissfully passing out. Susan ground him in into the bed with her powerful body, laughing at his defeat. Pain and exhaustion confused Bob's memories of the rest of the night. He recalled coming around and seeing Susan's happy face lost in yet another orgasm before the agony from his penis wiped him out again. Later, he remembered being on his front and his arse being in agony as a hard object slammed in and out of him. Then he had a vague recall of being moved around and posed wearing some sort of soft clothing. 

He awoke in his own bed and staggered up as he saw he was late. As he showered, he looked at his dick which was red raw and blistered. His balls hung empty and bruised beneath his agonisingly sore penis and his anus seemed tender and bruised as well. He put on his uniform and moaned as his pants touched his privates. He could not believe what had happened to him and remembered with total terror that Susan had control of him for ninety days. 

He considered deserting but realised that she would track him down and maybe even fix up a rape charge against him so he knew he had no escape from her domination. His door opened and she entered dressed in her full formal uniform. 

She said, "You are late soldier! I have had breakfast but we must go now! Move on out!" From her attitude, it seemed to Bob as if the whole of last night was a horrid dream until as he got to the door her strong hand grabbed him between the legs and said, "The fact that I own you, toy boy, is our little secret! I enjoyed myself with you last night and you had better be ready to serve again! Tonight darling I will explore how good your sexy tongue is before using your dick and cute arse again!" 

Then ever so much the efficient Colonel, she walked past him and towards the car. Bob gasped and moaned as he realised that all day he would be under the control of the nagging women and then at night he would become her helpless love slave under the control of her ravenous pussy. 

- The start/end -

Edited by Susan



The Colonel's Widow



Carol, my best friend and lover, was lying naked next to me with her head on my chest. I was stroking her face when she looked up at me and nuzzled her chin into my grey beard. She said " I liked that game we played this morning. When you let me mark the places on my body with honey that I wanted you to lick, that was very kind and thoughtful. Where did you learn to do that?" 

I looked into her blue eyes, and then paused for a moment as thoughts of my youth came flooding back into my mind. Finally, I whispered " let me tell you a story about the Colonel's Widow.

The Sun was still high in the sky on this particular July Afternoon in 1962. There was a slight breeze that cooled the skin just enough to make 80 degrees seem comfortable. I was walking across a freshly manicured lawn towards a 6-foot high fence draped with bright green ivy. It would have been a perfect Friday afternoon except that I had missed one item on my checklist and now I had to make an extra stop on my way home from work. I eased the gate open and peered into the backyard of a home that was one of only four on the entire block of this exclusive neighborhood in Kenilworth, a wealthy suburb north of Chicago, Illinois.

There were small flashes of sunlight that danced on the surface of a pond that filled about a quarter of the yard. The pond was located in the corner and was dominated by a tall fountain that poured a stream of water from the mouth of a Stone Lion. My first thought was that this pond was certainly going to pass my inspection based solely on the presence of moving water, but as long as I was there, I better take a closer look. As I walked along the fence I saw out the corner of my eye, a woman lying on a lounge chair atop a raised deck attached to the two-story house. If I had thought that she had seen me, I would have introduced myself, but she appeared to be asleep. So, I decided to take a peek at the pond and quietly leave without disturbing her. Soon I was on my knees with my nose only a couple inches from the surface of the pond. My first awareness of her presence was the smell of baby lotion. Then I heard her whisper " what are you looking for?"

Without breaking my concentration, I whispered back " Fish." 

A soft feminine voice replied " and if there are no fish?"

I turned my head and my nose nearly collided with the face of a woman who appeared to be in her mid thirties, nearly twice my age of 19. Her dark brown eyes were highlighted by deeply tanned skin stretched gently over high cheekbones on a beautifully sculptured face. More than once during my summer job, I have unintentionally violated the privacy of a nude sun bather, and although surely she would have put something on before confronting me, I decide to maintain close eye contact. I introduced myself and told her that I worked for the Cook County Mosquito Abatement Bureau. My task was to inspect all the known fishponds in the area and determine if they were potential breeding grounds for Mosquito Larva. The presence of fish or flowing water would keep the little pests away, otherwise we would have to put a chemical in the water to kill the larva, but that would also harm the fish. We always gave the homeowner a week to decide if they want to add fish, or let us add poison. 

It has been over 40 years since that conversation took place, so I can not be sure if I really did feel a slight pressure on my back, but I do know that suddenly my body was falling forward into the cool water of the pond.

What I do remember very clearly, was the sound of laughter as I went headfirst into the water. I quickly decided that two people could play that game, so just before my face went under the water, I took a deep breath. Then I laid very quietly, face down as my body started to float in about 4 feet of water. First I heard a scream, then the splashing of water, and finally I saw a pair of feet appear on the bottom, just below my face. She could not see me exhale as she pulled my head up, and I was very limp when I was dragged out of the water. The woman rolled me over and pried my mouth open. She squeezed my nose and put her open mouth over mine. Just as she started to blow into my mouth, I opened my eyes and stuck my tongue into her sweet tasting cavity. We both froze for a moment and then, her attempt at mouth to mouth resuscitation turned into an embrace and a warm kiss. I wrapped my arm around her back, and pulled her breasts into my wet chest. My other hand, guided by instinct, slipped down her back and I cupped one cheek of her firm butt. 

When she broke free, I could see that the light fabric covering had done nothing to restrain the outline of her erect nipples. She looked at me with fire in her eyes and yelled " I ought to call the police right now, and have you arrested for assault." 

I smiled back and said " fine, but please also call the Sheriff. Interfering with the duties of a County Employee falls under their jurisdiction."

We both started to laugh, and she invited me inside to take a shower. I followed her across the lawn and through the patio doors, into an all season porch and finally into a large kitchen. I tried to stay focused on her light brown hair tied in a ponytail, but my eyes wandering down her long neck to her slim back and on to her swaying butt that was clad in a nearly translucent white bikini bottom. She pointed towards a door, and in a tone of voice that was more like a command than an offer, she told me to leave my clothes on the floor and she would put them in the dryer. A few moments after I had closed the shower door, I saw her fuzzy outline, now muted by a bathrobe scoop up my wet clothes and leave. She had left behind another bathrobe on the vanity. The hot water felt good on my body that had spent an entire day walking through backyards, city parks and a few swamps. I dried off with big fluffy towel and then tried to decide what to do about my erect penis that was still responding to visions of our embrace by the fishpond. That problem very quickly resolved itself when I picked up the blue robe and saw the Marine Corps insignia embroidered on the pocket.

She was standing in the hallway when I slowly opened the door. Just for a moment, there was a gap in her robe and I saw just enough un-tanned skin to think that she had taken off her bikini. I must have looked very much like a nervous little kid as I asked her if my clothes were dry yet. She smiled at me and said " what's the big hurry, have you got a hot date." 

I shook my head no and explained that I didn't want to intrude if her husband was coming home soon. There was a strange look on her face, and then when she saw the pocket of the robe she shook her head, and said " don't worry, he won't be back again." Without any emotion in her voice, she added " Colonel Roger Keller was murdered in a hotel room in Saigon two months ago."

I started to express my condolences, and when I looked around and saw no evidence of children, I added that she must be very lonely in the house by herself. She gently put her hand on my shoulder and said " yes, at first I missed him very much, until I learned who killed him. The Corps tried to make it look like the Viet Cong had done it, but an old friend of mine told me the truth. A South Vietnamese Army Officer shot Roger in the head while he was lying on top of the man's naked wife." She bit her lip, and looked around, and said " I think I need a drink, would you please stay with me for a little while."

After a couple cold beers, we decided to make dinner. My parents were out of town for the weekend, and Sandy, my steady girl friend, was working as a counselor at a Girl Scout Camp, and would not be back for another two weeks. When I called my host Mrs. Keller, she corrected me and said that two adults (I liked being called that) who spend in afternoon together wearing nothing but bathrobes should be able to be a little less formal. I guess I was right about her taking off her bikini. 

Her name was Jane. While I made a light summer salad, she cut up some white fish, and started a mixture of butter and fresh lemon juice in a fondue dish. I cut up a variety of fresh vegetables that Jane lightly blanched, and while I was hulling fresh strawberries, she stated some chocolate and a little butter in a smaller fondue dish, for later. She opened a bottle of white wine, and we talked as we cooked our fish and vegetables, attached to long bamboo sticks, in the hot butter.

We talked about my job, and my desire to become a lawyer. Jane wanted to know if I had a girl friend. After a little more wine, I even told her about my first time, when Sandy and I played a very adult game of Doctor on the kitchen table. She talked about her life as a wife of a career military officer. Roger was an only child, and he had inherited the house and a small fortune from his father, who had made a lot of money in government construction projects after the end of the Korean War. She said that retiring as a Major General, opened up a lot of doors, but also made it very difficult for a son to do better. Jane did not think children should have to live that way, so she had gotten her tubes tied when it was obvious that her husband was never going to retire. 

The sun was starting to set, and when Jane suggested that we open a second bottle of wine, I began to think that it was time to leave. I looked around and said " I wonder if my clothes are dry yet." 

She looked into my eyes and replied " I think they are still in the wash machine." She explained that they looked awfully cruddy from the pond water, so she decided to wash them along with her bikini. Jane pointed to doorway off the kitchen and suggested that I put everything into the dryer while she prepared dessert.

When I returned to the kitchen, she was gone. I called out to her, and she answered " I am in here on the porch." I entered the room, and just stood still with my mouth open. Jane was naked. She was lying face down on the couch and the robe was on the floor. My eyes looked first at her tanned back and then my gaze traveled down her long spine to her flared hips. The skin on her butt was a creamy white and flawless except for a mole on her right cheek. Her left leg was extended and her toes were only a few feet from my erect penis that was sticking out through the opening in my robe. Her right leg was bent at the knee. Jane was in the classic Sim's Position that patients assume when they are about to be given an enema. The position forced the cheeks of her small rounded butt to part and I was given a view of her brown eye, and below that the delicate outline of her shaved vaginal lips. 

Jane looked back over her shoulder at me, and with a smile on her lips, but with a commanding tone in her voice, she asked " well, are you going to just stand there, or take off your robe and get busy."

Still in shock, from being so close to a naked adult woman, I shed my robe and sat next to her on the bed. Tentatively, I reached down and slid my hand down her back and I let it rest on her butt. Jane's expression softened and she rolled over onto her back, revealing smallish but very taut breasts. She looked into my eyes and in a gentle whisper said " you have done this before, right?" 

Yes, I did have sex with Sandy while she was bent over the kitchen table but I also admitted that the next time we tried to it, she could not relax enough to let me in, and after doing nothing more than heavy petting we gave up. Jane smiled again and said " as long as we have gotten this far, let me teach you a thing or two about foreplay."

She sent me back into the kitchen to get the pot of warmed chocolate and the fruit plate. By the time I was back, Jane had propped herself up on a couple pillows and was sitting on the bed with her feet hanging over the edge. She patted the cushion next to her and I sat down. Although her vaginal lips were shaved, there was a small patch of neatly trimmed hair just about the hood. I reached out to touch the hair, and she playfully slapped at my hand, and told me that we were not ready for that yet.

Jane picked up a strawberry and dipped it into the warm chocolate. She nodded that I should do the same. Then she pressed the berry to my lips and I followed her lead and held my berry up to hers. We sucked the dripping morsels into our mouths and slowly chewed. Jane leaned forward and kissed me and I could taste the chocolate on her lips. We fed each other a couple more berries, but she pulled the fourth one back just at the last moment. Instead of offering it to me, she used it to paint a chocolate circle along the outer edge of the brown areolas on her right breast. She looked deeply into eyes, and said " Bob, wherever I put the chocolate, you must clean it off." 

I gently lapped the sweet chocolate off her breast, and my tongue felt the contrast between the slightly bumpy surface of the discolored patch and surrounding smooth creamy skin. The chocolate trail moved from the areolas up to the nipple. I sucked the erect nub into my mouth. Jane stiffened a little and then put her hand behind my head and pushed my face into her chest. She dipped the berry back into the chocolate and we repeated the paint and lick game on the other breast. She made a trail of chocolate that led me drip by drip down to her navel. By now Jane had pushed aside the pillows and was lying flat on her back, and I was kneeling on a cushion with my chest between her thighs. She reached down and pushed the strawberry into my mouth and reached over to the chocolate pot. Her finger, dripping with chocolate filled the little dimple. Her flat stomach was heaving up and down as I sucked her navel clean. There was still a slight smell of baby oil, but now I was also aware of the slightly fishy odor that my Sister had told me was a woman's arousal.

Finally, Jane reached down and painted the left side of her vaginal lips, and after I cleaned it with my tongue, the right side was prepared for me. I could see that the lips were starting to swell, and a slightly milky go was starting to ooze from the opening. I just sat back on my heels and watched as Jane pushed a small strawberry slick with chocolate into her vagina. She raised her head a bit, and whispered " go for it." I put my mouth over the opening and sucked and she moaned when the berry popped back into my mouth. Her breathing was starting to come in short breaths and her hand was less steady when she slopped a big gob of chocolate on her clitoris. Jane grabbed two of my fingers and shoved them back into the cavity that had just expelled the berry. Between labored breaths she instructed me to keep pumping my fingers in and out of her while licking her clean, and to hang on until it was over.

Her feet started stamping on the floor, her body started to convulse and finally I heard a deep cry come from her mouth. I could feel her body pulsating on my fingers for a few moments, and then she was still. I knew that now it was my turn, and I stood up and leaned forward over her body. I braced myself with my feet on the floor and my hands on each side of her head. I was ready to penetrate her when she pushed me back and said " no, not that way, I need to feel your weight." 

Jane scooted up onto the bed and planted her feet on the bed with her knees up. I climbed on top of her and as she guided my naked penis to her lips, I slowly lowered myself down. She reached up and pulled me to her and then whispered " how does it feel to do it bareback." 

It was a feeling that I still cannot adequately describe, but one that I would have to remember for several years until Sandy was able to get a prescription for the new birth control pill. Jane and I started slowly but we soon found our rhythm of thrust and counter thrust. Deep within my groin, I felt that familiar ache that I produced many times with my hand, but which seemed so different now that my whole body was pressed against another. I felt a sudden ache of sadness when I finally filled Jane's body with my fluid, because I just knew that I would never have that chance again. 

I was able to stay hard just long enough for her to climax again. She hugged me and then whispered " thank you, and I am sorry about the dunking." I rolled off of her warm body and we lay spoon fashion listening to the night sounds. Soon she was asleep, and when I heard her start to snore, I got up and quietly walked to the laundry room. 

After I found my clothes and dressed, I stood for a moment at the patio door. It is a very quiet Friday Night. The still air was about 70 degrees, the sky was clear and the light of the full moon has turned the back yard into a blue black landscape of shapes and shadows. No traffic outside and the only sounds from inside were those of Jane's soft breathing and outside the soft splashing of water from the fountain in the fishpond. I turned off the car radio and drove in silence, not wanting the night to end, but knowing that it was over.

Carol, asked me " did you ever see her again?"

" No," I said. " The next day I drove by her house, and for the first time, I saw the SOLD Sign on the front lawn. There was a moving van in the driveway, and when I asked the driver where she was, he told me that she had left early that morning.

He asked if I was Bob, and then handed me an envelope. Inside was recipe card and written across the front was a note that read Bob, you were a wonderful student. Keep doing your homework, and you will make some lucky woman very happy. Love, Jane." The Colonel's Widow was gone and had become another memory. 

Carol looked at me, and wiped a small tear from my cheek. She climbed out of bed, and with a smile she said " Let's see if we can find some chocolate."