Now, two years after graduation, he was in the armed reserves, but still had not shed the nickname…or the baby fat.
Moose (aka: Bruce) was a gentle soul with an adorable round face, smooth skin, wide, innocent blue eyes, a pug nose, and chubby pink lips. His almost white blond hair was shaved super close and his entire complexion was a stinging red from grueling hours spent in the sun during boot camp. He wasn’t keeping up with the other men. But his sergeant liked him very much because of his endearing, naïve, determined personality, so had assigned two of the excelling privates, Rodriguez and Contadino, to stay behind at the base and train him hard while the rest of the troop went for all-day field training.
“I can’t…do…anymore!” Moose cried, rolling onto his back after crawling out from under the final challenge of the indoor obstacle course for the fifth time.
“Your time sucks, Moose!” Rodriguez hovered over him. “You’ve only gained an extra three seconds! That’s only one second longer than it takes you to cum when you’re doing the nightly discharge.”
No one in the reserves had been in high school with Moose, but somehow, just seeing his thick body in his military uniform—and out of it during sleep time and shower time—the name had come to someone’s mind because it rhymes with Bruce. It had been passed around the barracks faster than an issue of Penthouse, so everyone called him Moose while they mostly stuck to calling each other by the first syllable of their last names. Unfortunately, they often made train whistle sounds as Moose entered a room or passed by, shouting things like, “Here comes the Moose caboose!”
A majority of the baby fat had settled in Moose’s ass. While his face was round, his chest had a bit of a squeezable layer to it (which made his tits the target of many purple nurples in the shower), and his belly and love handles were never quite tight across the hardening muscles beneath. His butt was ridiculously disproportionate, and all the exercises he did to target his glutes only managed to make it bigger rather than tighten it.
In one of the most embarrassing moments of his military career, during an unauthorized keg party, the guys had gotten him drunk enough to wrestle his big form to the floor and yank his pants down. With five or six guys sitting on his back, he had tried to struggle out from under them, but every time he did, there would be shouts and hollers as a stinging blow would thump against his cheeks: a wooden ruler. They’d measured the height difference between the small of his back and the highest peak of the roundness of his ass and determined that his butt jutted five and a quarter inches from his body. It was a prime target for towel snaps and, very often, all-out open-palmed wet whacks in the shower. The guys seemed to get such a kick out of making the pale whiteness of it turn as bright red as his face. Moose learned quickly to walk with his ass as close to a wall as possible at all times—and his hands over his crotch. All the male attention on his ass always made things stir down there, and he couldn’t get kicked out of the armed service for inappropriate (and uncontrollable) sexual conduct. He’d really convinced himself that none of the other guys knew he stood at firmer attention for them than he did for his commander.
And now here he was being bossed around by the two major subjects of his fantasies and masturbation sessions…or “nightly discharges,” as his barrack buddies liked to refer to their personal “alone” time when it was assumed everyone else had fallen asleep. To make this personal time even more dangerous, they’d begun a “nightly discharge watch.” Rules were, if any guy was busted before he finished busting a nut, he’d have to shoot his load into his hand and then slurp it down while all the quickly awakened guys nearby watched. The humiliating punishment ignited sexual tension, as well as seeing an increase in the cases of blue balls.
Rodriguez and Contadino were the tallest, darkest, broadest-shouldered men in the unit. They had the chiseled bodies for which all their peers strived. Rodriguez’s black Spanish eyes were smoldering, sexy, and dangerous all at once. He had a tattoo circling each of his bulging biceps, and you could drink soup out of the ridges in his hairless torso. Contadino had gentle green Sicilian eyes, thick five o’clock shadow, and a torso coated in long wisps of dark hair. Both men’s heads were shaved almost bald, making their thick black eyebrows stand out prominently. Despite being different nationalities, they were often mistaken for brothers.
“Please. No more.” Moose looked up from his prone position on the mat as they leaned over him. They wore tight camouflage pants and black boots with no shirts on.
“Now, what’s the sergeant going to say if we let you off easy?” Contadino asked in his gruff bass voice.
They yanked Moose to his feet. Sweat splattered off his also naked upper body, and his extra layer of flab jiggled slightly, particularly the bright pink swells of his smooth nipples, which looked like two big eyeballs (and they had posed as a pair on another drunken night when a nose and mouth had been drawn on his belly).
“You’re a mess!” Rodriguez barked, his firm jaw grimacing as he wiped Moose’s palm sweat onto his thighs.
“I’ll do anything! I’ll take over your laundry duties for a week.” Moose panted. “Just please, guys, don’t make me do the laps. I think I’m gonna have a heart atta…AAAAHHHH!”
His tender nipples were being pinched between thumbs and index fingers. Rodriguez and Contadino each had a hold of him. His instinct was to pull away, but the grasps were so firm he knew that would just cause them to be yanked. As big as they were to begin with, they seemed to have grown in diameter since he’d been stationed with these men, a result of the tugging they often received.
“Shut UP!” Contadino barked in his face. His right nipple was squeezed brutally and tears sprang to his downcast eyes.
“Aaarrrgghh! Stop! Please!” he cried as Rodriguez twisted his left nipple. He was about to keel over.
“LOOK at us when we talk to you!” Rodriguez used the nipple as a joystick to redirect Moose’s eyes. “That’s better.”
Moose felt blood return to his pecs as the nipples were released.
“You disgust us. Pathetic. Just hit the shower,” Contadino muttered.
“Yes, sirs,” Moose said, crestfallen that he hadn’t been able to impress them.
“And try to keep the hands off the cock while you’re in there,” Rodriguez said. “I know it’s going to be hard now that you been gawking at our bodies all day.”
Moose yelped as he departed and got a burning swat on his right cheek, followed by the usual snickers and growl of “Moose caboose.”
After struggling through his shower—his muscles and joints (and nipples) were on fire—Moose snuck back to the barracks with a towel wrapped around him. The long, drab room lined with cots on either wall was quiet and comforting without all the frenetic energy of male testosterone clogging every corner for a change. It would be such an ideal opportunity for a discharge, despite the orders he’d been given not to do it.
Moose opened the drawer of the bureau between his and Rodriguez’s bed. They shared the space, and he was assigned to the bottom drawer…
Which was empty. The freshly cleaned uniform he’d put in there was gone.
“What the hell?” he said out loud.
“Looking for those?” Rodriguez’s snide voice came from behind him.
The two shirtless Adonises stood on the other side of Rodriquez’s cot, and Rodriguez was pointing to the rafters over Moose’s cot.
Shirt, jacket, pants…even boots with the laces tied together had been tossed up into the metal beams of the angled ceiling.
“Guys! Come on! Why do you do this to me?” Moose morphed into everyone’s little brother when he acted all wounded like this, which was part of his unintentional charm. “Can you please get them down for me?”
The two muscular tyrants walked over to him as he gazed up at the beam, trying to come up with a solution to getting the stuff down.
“What’ll you do for us if we do?” Contadino asked. “You’re already going to do our dirty laundry for a week.”
“You never agreed to that!” Moose stammered.
“Fine. Get ’em yourself.” Rodriguez crossed his swelling arms, tattoos around his biceps expanding, and sat on Moose’s cot. Contadino followed suit.
Moose became indignant. “Fine. I will.”
He climbed onto his cot and reached upward with his beefy arms. The lowest-hanging item, a leg of his pants, was still about two feet too high. Contadino and Rodriguez scoffed. He was determined to not let them get the best of him this time, but he could already feel his face blushing. The only course of action was to jump in an effort to grab the pant leg.
As his large body soared upward, he suddenly felt very naked…
He was. The bottom of the towel wrapped around his waist had been grabbed. When he went up, the towel went down.
He toppled completely nude onto his cot. He lost his balance and practically fell off it. He managed to land on his knees and steady himself. The towel was nowhere to be seen as the two men he was now kneeling between stared blank faced as if innocent of any mischief.
Moose’s hands completely covered his genitals as he begged them to give him the towel.
“Ah-houch!” he cried as Rodriguez put all his muscle behind an open handed swing that caused Moose’s rump to tremble. He threw one hand over his backside to protect it (useless on account of its size), while keeping his inconveniently growing front side covered.
“Look at that little bitch getting all hard from an ass slap,” Contadino said.
“I’m not!” Moose tried to adjust his hand to hide the swelling, darting his wall of fingers at various angles like he was voguing.
Rodriguez yanked Moose’s hand away from his crotch. “Then what’s this?”
Moose dove to the cot belly first to hide his excitement. “Guys, please!”
“Please what, Moose? You pleading for some big uncut cock? Cause you look like a bitch in heat begging for it with your fat caboose sticking up like that.” Contadino gave him a couple of rough shoves in the head, bouncing it back and forth between his palms like it was a basketball.
“Cut it out!” Moose swatted at his hands. “Ooo-ooow! Stop!”
Rodriguez had targeted his bubble buns again, with full-palmed swipes. Moose tried to role over slightly to avoid further contact, but before he could, Rodriguez jumped on top of him, straddling him, his crotch landing on the small of Moose’s back and pinning him in place. Moose looked over his shoulder and took in Rodriguez’s wide, muscular back. Above Rodriguez’s head dangled his boots, like two big swollen testicles, and draped between them, the leg of his pants, giving the illusion of a flaccid camouflage penis.
“Come on, Rod!” Moose squirmed, his body lifting clunkily off the cot a few inches and taking Rodriguez with him before crashing back down.
“Whoa! It’s like a mechanical bull!” Contadino said. “How long can you ride it?”
“Come on, guys!” Moose pleaded, staying still for fear the next nickname he was going to get would be Mechanical Moose. “Get off.”
“Get off where? Here?” Rodriguez asked and then sent Moose into a whirlwind of humiliation. He grabbed huge chunks of ass flesh and spread Moose’s cheeks to expose his asshole. “Discharge right here?”
“STOP!” Moose nearly shrieked, bucking wildly on the cot, risking the title Mechanical Moose after all.
“Look at that tiny asshole quiver!” Rodriguez laughed as he rode Moose, still prying his ass apart. “Cont, you gotta see how tight this little fucker is.”
“Please make him stop.” Moose looked desperately into the usually gentle green eyes of Contadino, who was still standing in front of him, hairy chest swelling, fuzzy belly naturally tensed.
“Stop? We’ve barely gotten started. You know what little chance we get to unload because of the damn discharge watch?” Contadino asked. “Moosey. We know this is what you want. You think we don’t see how you look at us?”
Moose’s red complexion, contrasting drastically with the light blond sprouts on his head, made denial impossible. His voice wavered as his body gave up the fight. “What are you going to do to me?”
“We’re gonna give you something to really think about when you do the old nightly discharge,” Contadino said, stroking his fist in a jerk off motion.
Moose’s hardness practically poked through the cot at the vision of the Italian hunk simulating masturbation, veins popping out on his meaty, hairy forearm.
“Just gonna take a look at what you got for us.” Contadino circled the cot to see what Rodriguez was hooting about. “Damn, Caboose! You a virgin?”
Rodriguez was still parting Moose’s ass cheeks to reveal the smooth, half-inch seam in between the mounds of butt. “How the hell we gonna get our big boys in there?”
“In there?” Moose stiffened, knowing damn well exactly how big their “boys” were. “Guys, no. Okay. It’s true. I’m gay. And I am a virgin. Please! I want it to be special the first time.”
Rodriguez smiled evilly at Contadino. “O-ho. It’s gonna be real special.” He glanced over his shoulder at Moose, who was craning his neck to see what was going on behind him. “You be real good and take everything we got to offer, you get your clothes back and we tell the sergeant you passed all your tests with flying colors today. You wanna stay in the services, right? You don’t wanna have to go home and tell Daddy you failed, right?”
While all the other men in the barracks were getting letters from girlfriends and wives, Moose had only ever been seen reading letters from his father.
“Guys. You know I don’t wanna go home. But I’m really scared,” he whimpered.
“We ain’t gonna kill ya, you dweeb,” Rodriguez said. “And hells, you might even like it. Now, I’m gonna get off you, but you stay put until we tell you what to do, you got me?”
“Yeah,” Moose said, defeated. The pressure was removed from his body and his erection was given some breathing room.
“We’re not faggots or nothing, but your ass is like two scoops of vanilla ice cream. You can’t resist it. You hear what we’re saying?” Contadino asked.
“Yeah. I understand,” Moose said, flattered if it was actually true.
“Dicks this big need a piece a’ ass that big to snuggle up into for the discharge. You hear us?” Rodriguez expanded on Contadino’s philosophy.
“Yeah. But if it hurts, will you stop?” Moose asked.
“We got your back,” Rodriguez used an expression not uncommon in the barracks. Only, in the current context, it took on a whole new meaning. He stepped to the side of the cot. “Up on your knees. Swivel that ass over this way.”
“And that mouth over here.” Contadino stepped to the opposite side of the cot.
Moose crawled on hands and knees, stomach in knots, cock throbbing, until his ample ass was facing Rodriguez, who had simply unzipped his camouflage pants and pulled his package through the opening. Moose’s mouth was level with the huge wanger protruding from Contadino’s thick Italian pubes.
Contadino pushed his heated dick head against Moose’s sealed orifice after rolling back his foreskin. “Open up, pretty lips.”
“Wait.” Moose pressed a hand against Contadino’s bulging thigh and moved his head back. “I’m scared.”
“Just suck my dick. You’re not a fucking pussy woman, are you? I’m not gonna fucking cuddle with you and shit after this is over,” Contadino said.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll do it.” Moose gulped then parted his lips slowly, flattening his tongue so Contadino could place his cock on it. He felt like a kid waiting for a doctor to check his tonsils.
There was no tender loving care. Contadino pushed right in, forcing Moose’s mouth open. His jaw protested and he gagged when the huge object hit the back of his palate, the hairy balls cushioning his chin. He could taste the pasty dry musk of Contadino’s foreskin. The cock tried to slip down into his throat. His already cherubic cheeks puffed up, his eyes tearing.
“Relax,” Contadino instructed, holding still for a moment and g
rabbing Moose by the ears. “You wanna be good at this shit for when you get a boyfriend?”
Moose nodded excitedly.
Contadino actually smiled and patted his head. “Cool. I’m doing you a favor letting you practice on me. You feel fucking great.”
Contadino withdrew his massive ten inches (measured the same drunken night as Moose’s ass) and Moose’s big, moist upper lip, not wanting to let go, was pulled out along the thickness of his shaft. He gave Moose a whack in the side of the head before grabbing his ears again to steer back in. “Keep the fucking teeth in check.”
“Come on. Knees in, chest down, and ass way up. And spread those legs,” Rodriguez barked orders from behind. He couldn’t help but laugh hysterically as Moose attempted to readjust his legs while keeping Contadino firmly (and uncomfortably) held in his throat. “Motherfuckin’ ass is so fuckin’ big. Oh. Theeeere it is. That slit is barely the size of my piss slit. This shit’s gonna be tiiiiiight!”
After releasing his package from the green material confining it as Contadino had, gorgeous Latin commando-in-training Rodriguez leaned over and opened his bureau drawer, digging out a large bottle of lotion he applied frequently to his dry, chapped hands. Using a thumb and index finger, he pushed forcefully against the flesh surrounding Moose’s slit, hoping to pry it open. He didn’t make much of a dent, but he squirted a glob of the white cream in there anyway. The surrounding taut flesh clenched.
“There you go. Just eat it up. Relax that ass.” Rodriguez slathered his shaft and foreskin in the white cream, which smeared onto the crotch of the surrounding pants, adding a new color splash to the camouflage palette framing his balls. Then he moved all eight inches toward his target. He thrust powerfully forward, hands locking on Moose’s chunky love handles. “Suck it up, soldier!”
Funny Bone Page 12
