A Young Sea Soldier by Andy Macdonald.
andymacdon@hotmail.com
Legal Notice: The following story contains descriptions of graphic sexual acts. The story is a work of fiction and has little basis in reality.
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PART III - Three's a crowd.
We took the taxi back to the yacht and had no sooner got back on board than my mobile rang. It was Alistair:
"Hello Andy, 'fraid I've got another wounded warrior for you. Not as bad this time but he's got to come back to the boat. He really shouldn't stay out on the hill tonight. We've evacuated him down to the road and I've arranged for the local police to bring him down to the harbour, they should be there any time now and I'd be grateful if you could meet them with the dinghy and add the casualty to your collection. The rest of us will be back at dusk tomorrow night as planned. Can you cope?
"Sure Alistair," I answered. No probs. I'll look after the halt and the lame. See you tomorrow then."
Shit. That would fuck up our fun tonight. Two's company but three would most definitely be a crowd. I wonder which of the soldiers it would be.
I jumped down into the dinghy and started up the outboard. Billy let go the lines and I motored ashore to the jetty where I could see a police car already waiting. I came alongside and there were two policemen and a muddy, wet and bedraggled looking soldier.
McNeil! Shit.that lippy young fucker.
"OK," said one of the policemen. "I've got a casualty for you. Can you manage lad?"
"Aye, Ah'm OK the noo," McNeil mumbled.
He climbed into the boat and his gear was passed down to him.
"What's your problem?" I enquired.
"Got hypothermia up on the hill," he muttered. "Ma bivvy leaked and ma sleepin' bag wis soaked. Couldn'ae dae onythin' frae masell. The fuckin' Captain said for me tae come away back tae the boat."
He certainly looked in a hell of a state. His clothing was filthy as was his gear. He sat shivering in the boat, a bundle of cold, wet khaki misery.
I steered the dinghy back to the yacht and Billy came to the side to secure the lines and drag McNeil's gear on board.
"S'all richt for you," McNeil whined when he saw Billy. "Sittin' here on the fukin' yacht all dry and warm. Wid ye look at the state of me? Onyways ah'm here the noo and tae spend the nicht on board. Bet that'll ruin yer fun 'n games."
Billy dumped the wet gear down onto the deck and went below. If all he was going to get was a slagging off then his fellow soldier could deal with his own gear. I felt the same and joined Billy in the saloon leaving McNeil to drag himself and his equipment down below by himself.
"Best get all that dirty gear off and have a long hot shower," I told him.
McNeil slunk off into the fo'c'sle and stripped off his clothes. Billy and I ignored him, he crept into the shower and soon steam was billowing out."
Without my needing to say anything Billy had gone into the galley and was preparing a rich army-ration stew for the three of us. McNeil emerged in a cloud of steam and rooted through the gear in his locker to find some clean, dry clothes.
"How're you feeling?" I asked him.
"Reckon ah'm a lot better," he replied, "Ah'm no shiverin' the noo. Could dae with a tot though" and he looked hopefully across to the booze locker which he'd obviously spotted earlier in the voyage.
"No chance," I said, "that's the worst thing you could have until your body temperature is totally back to normal. Best you get some hot food inside you and then we'll see."
Very soon Billy's 'all-in' stew was ready and the three of us tucked into large steaming bowls of the excellent concoction. Both of the young soldiers dispatched a second bowl and Billy then served a solid chunk of 'plum duff' covered in a thick, hot chocolate sauce. Three steaming mugs of hot, strong tea rounded off the feast and by now McNeil was looking his usual cocky self again.
"How're you doing now McNeil," I asked him, "do you think you should get into your sleeping bag?"
"Ma bags soakin' wet and onywys ah'm OK the noo. Dinnae feel cold at 'a."
"Well OK, if you're sure. In that case how about you wash up the dishes while I look at Billy's dressing."
"Fuckin' Billy is it? I thocht his name wis Private Benson. Guess it's Billy bum-boy . . . ." this last remark was muttered under his breath and I chose to ignore it but Billy went very red, he'd heard it alright..
With a sour look McNeil gathered up the bowls and cutlery and slid off into the galley. While he was washing the dishes he continued to grumble. I only caught a few words but they were generally to the effect that while the two of us had been on board by ourselves unnatural practices were bound to have taken place.
I grabbed the medical kit and turned to Billy who, seeing what I was doing, was already sliding down his trousers so I could get at his knee. I looked at the dressing and it seemed fine so I decided not to change it. I glanced up and caught McNeil staring at Billy's half naked body. His gaze shot away guiltily and he continued with the washing up but I was sure that I could see a disturbance in his groin. I was sure that it had to be Billy, sitting with his trousers around his ankles was causing McNeil's arousal.
"Hey! Look at McNeil," I whispered to Billy, "I reckon he's getting a hard- on!"
Billy glanced over at McNeil who had turned back to the galley sink and pressed his front against it.
"Don't know, can't see anything," muttered Billy and then "What's up then McNeil? You getting the hots for the skipper or am I turning you on sitting here in just my knickers?"
"Away and get fucked Benson. Ah'm no interested in yer scrawny chicken body."
Meanwhile I'd gone into the fo'c'sle to stow away the spare dressings and had to step over McNeil's dirty combat gear. It smelt. It smelt of sweaty soldier. I kicked the pile and his dirty skivvies caught my eye, I picked up his boxers and looked at them. They showed strong evidence of having been worn during some pretty strenuous activity but the thing that caught my eye was the fact that the front of the young soldier's underwear was starched! Stiff. I looked more closely. He'd creamed those boxers not just once but, on close examination, he must have shot about four separate loads of soldier- spunk into them. Why? What had given him four orgasms? He'd been with his group for at least five days. He couldn't have seen any girls since their exercise had started? Was our avowed queer-baiter bent? I reckoned so.
"Billy, come in here a minute," I said.
Billy came into the small cabin and I held up the spunk-stained boxers.
"Looks like our tough gay-basher may turn out to be a frustrated homo. What do you think? 'Cos I think in the interests of military security we ought to find out! Let's jump him!!"
Billy grinned and together we slowly approached the galley.
"What's this then?" I demanded, holding up the semen-starched underwear.
McNeil reddened.
"Wit y'a doin' wi ma cacks?" he mumbled. "Give 'em here. That's ma stuff 'n its private."
"Look at the state of these! They stink. And, tell me, what got you so excited then? There's been no girls in your life for five days yet they're covered in dried spunk. Fancy the guys do you? Got the hots for a soldier-boy? Maybe you fancy 'Bum-boy Benson' Sniffing after a bit of fluffy ginger-haired arse are we?"
McNeil lunged forward to grab his stained boxers but skidded on the slippery deck. It was then that I realised that he must've got into the booze locker while he'd been working in the galley. The lad was quite pissed. Now we could have some fun. In a flash I snatched up some short rope ties that we used to secure the sails when they were dropped down to the deck. I whipped five turns around his ankles while Billy, who'd realised in a second what I was doing grabbed another length and got a lashing around his wrists.
"Where did you learn to do that," I asked.
"In the Sea Scouts," Billy replied with an evil grin.
McNeil writhed and struggled on the deck but with arms and legs restrained he was helpless.
"Ah'm sick," he bellowed, "get af've me. Let me go. Wit are'ye tryin' tae dae fer fuck's sake."
I bent down and whispered into his ear, "I reckon you're queer, McNeil. A bum-bandit. A shirt-lifter. A brown-noser, Huh?"
"Away tae fuck!" he shouted rolling onto his back.
"Billy, he's kicking too much. Get his trousers down, that'll hobble him."
Billy was now well into the battle. He grabbed the writhing soldier's belt, slipped the buckle, unzipped his fly and dragged down his cammo trousers.
"And his underwear. Get him bare arsed and roll him over," I said
Billy complied so that the trussed soldier was lying on his stomach, trousers and underwear stripped down to his ankles and his bare bum mooning up at us.
"Watch this Billy," I said with a chuckle.
From under one of the bunks I'd dragged out a spare sail baton, a thin strip of flexible plastic about three inches wide which we used to stiffen the trailing edge of the sails. With a sound like a pistol shot I smote the delectable round buttocks of the pinioned soldier.
"Fuck you. That fuckin' hurt. What the fuck do ya think yu'r at?" he bellowed.
Thwack.
Another goodly shot and a second crimson stripe spread across the vulnerable mounds.
Thwack. Thwack.
"That'll teach you to call your mates nasty, queer names. Roll him over Billy, I'm guessing that . . . ."
Billy grabbed the lad's shoulders in a flash and spun him over onto his back. . . . . Just as I'd thought, a stiff flag-staff curved upwards from his pubic bush and protruded throught the fly of his boxers. The lad had grown a stiff erection.
"Ah. So that turned you on did it?" I crowed.
McNeil blushed and struggled unsuccessfully to roll over and hide the evidence of his arousal.
"Not very impressive eh Billy," I said peering at the five inch prick, "Nice plump balls though, ready with another packet of splurge maybe. Cop a feel, maybe you can coax a bit more length there."
Billy grinned and slid his fingers up and down the solid length of our prisoner's stiffy. McNeil groaned and his cock twitched mightily.
"On his belly again, Billy." I ordered.
Billy rolled our victim over onto his belly and again I wacked the taut young buttocks with my batten.
"Who do you fancy then gay-boy?"
"Ouch. Fuck you!!" roared McNeil.
Wack. Wack. The sound echoed round the boat.
"Benson. Billy Benson. It's him I fancy. Fuckin' bum-boy. I fancy him rotten and I bet he shags like a rabbit."
"Oh so you are a gay young soldier. And all those names you've been calling him. And all the time you've fancied him, fancied him enough to fill your knickers with spunk. Dirty little soldier."
Thwack. I smote the now reddened buttocks. then I ran my hand over the hot muscled mounds.
"Pretty little bottom, Billy, wouldn't you say?"
As I probed McNeil's privacy Billy looked on and licked his lips, his horniness well in evidence.
Suddenly I ceased my intimate searching. I signaled Billy to roll him over onto his back again and then I abandoned the young fraud and turned all my attention to my ginger lover. I snogged young Billy, kissing his mouth, licking his face, nibbling the lobes of his ears, smelling, licking, kissing deep into his neck. McNeil's eyes were locked onto the two of us as we started to make out big time. His cock was still rampant, his eyes pleaded to be allowed in on our intimacies.
"What do you reckon Billy?" I whispered into his ear, "reckon he's a fucker or a fuckee?"
"That dirty bastard, I bet he's lusting to get that pathetic cock up a tight, gripping arsehole. Sure he's longing to fuck his spunk into one of us. He's a mean bastard, remember what he called me?"
"Sure I do," I replied, "in that case I reckon he should get well and truly shagged. Get that cute round, muscley bum of his shagged like there's no tomorrow."
McNeil could hear our plans but he had the sense to keep quiet.
Billy grinned and nodded enthusiastically. I continued to fondle the lad's bum, running the palm of my hand oh so lightly over the inflamed flesh. Then I ran my fingers up and down the crack between the bared buttocks. Very lightly I teased that crack and McNeil involuntarily clenched his bum-cheeks together, emphasizing the dimples at the side of his round rump. I continued my gentle massage with fluttering fingers and to my delight the young soldier started to hump his arse upwards to meet my ministrations. For several minutes I continued to tease his bottom until in his excitement he slowly eased his legs apart, opening up his hot young crack. Instantly my fingers teased their way into the hairy, sweaty cleft. Teased up and down, furtively fingering this private valley, surreptitiously seeking the tight pucker, the private place that few others would ever get to feel. I tapped at his back door and the ring of muscle spasmed. I rubbed my finger around the core of him and then withdrew it from his intimacy.
"I hope you really cleaned yourself well - like mummy taught you" I said to him and so saying I held my finger close up under McNeil's nose.
"Smell sexy?", I whispered, "I bet you'd like to get a sniff of Bum-boy Benson's arse. He just loves me to play with his hole. It smells awesome, I can tell you." Then I worked my hand round to his front, feeling for his prick; it was steel hard and when I rubbed my palm over his knob I felt the moisture, the stickiness of his pre-cum. This fag-hater was right into the scene, of that there was no doubt.
"I bet you'd like to thrust this weapon deep into Billy's bum, eh?"
"That little thing? You're joking," said Billy, "after the shags you've given me all that thing would do is just tickle! Mind you his knob-end is quite impressive. Thick - like its owner."
"Let's see what you've got then," grunted McNeal and in a flash Billy whipped his prick out of the fly of his boxers and thrust it into the young soldier's startled face.
"Go on then cock-sucker. Slurp on that bit of meat," said Billy. And his tormenter sucked. He wrapped his lips around the solid soldier-shaft and vacuumed his way up and down like a veteran. Billy moaned at the exquisite and expert attention his manhood was receiving.
"Hmm, as I thought," I said, "you're no novice. For once I have to say that you're doing a good job - wouldn't you say young Billy?"
Billy groaned his agreement. McNeal replied by deep-throating his colleagues cock giving rise to louder and more vehement grunts from young Billy.
By now McNeil was completely into the scene. He was sucking Billy like a new-born calf at its mother's tits, his eyes gleamed with lust. I reckoned it was safe to release the sail tiers that bound his hands and feet. As he continued to pleasure his colleague I moved round behind his unguarded bottom and resumed my digital exploration, fingering his arsehole and feeling the ring ease open in welcome. I slipped one finger slowly into the hot, gripping hole. McNeal gasped and clamped his arse-lips around the invader. I screwed my finger around and he relaxed his grip enabling me probe deeper until I heard him gasp and my other hand felt his cock jolt. I continued to work away at my target and then I mounted the young soldier and replaced my probing finger with something much more substantial. Billy watched and grinned as I lined myself up for the gross indignity which I was about to inflict on our now willing captive.
Suddenly, without warning I plunged my cock deep into his tender orifice. I drove the plump head of my penetrater deep into his arse. McNeal spat out Billy's cock in a gasp of pain and violation. I gripped my arms around the young soldier and plunged, drew my penis out and then plunged again. Now I set up the primeval rhythm and proceeded to fuck my young victim without mercy. I loved it. I rode that young man viciously. I drove in with all my strength, slapping the side of his arse as I did so. I eased out and shoved in - time and time again - and he loved it. McNeil responded and reared back into me, picking up the rhythm of the fuck like a homosexual pro. Much as I longed to continue to dominate the cute young man, my release was building up and, with a paroxysm of power I finally plunged in deeper than ever and with a primitive groan I released jet after jet of steaming semen deep into McNeal's arsehole. I had this huge prolonged orgasm with the dirty soldier's ring clamping my invading cock in a muscular grip brought on by his own spurting emmisions.
We both gasped at the majesty of the fuck and the stupendous release, hormones raging round our bodies and, to my astonishment, I realised that Billy who'd been wanking his cock furiously in time with my fuck-strokes gave his jolting cock a final gripping clench and his spunk spurted forth in sympathy.
"Fuckin' 'ell, that wis the greatest," gasped McNeil, "that wis the first time ah've ever bin shagged. Oh fuck but it wis guid."
I went into the head and grabbed a damp coth and the three of us used it to wipe off the sweat and semen that had splashed onto our bodies. We all pulled up our slacks and sat down on the saloon seats. Still flushed but feeling great and grinning at each other. I go out three glasses and poured each of us good stiff dram.
We clinked our glasses together in a toast, downed the fiery liquid - and I poured us another. This was going to be one hell of a night.
We polished off the remains of that first bottle and set about its replacement and, not surprisingly, before long we were three very happy yachtsmen.
"Hey guys, ah'm knackered," said McNeil in a slurred voice, "it's OK fer ye bat ah'be bin up on the hill 'n ah wis sick, ken?"
"Yea, you're right," I answered, "best we get turned in. The others'll be back tomorrow."
Billy looked at me, his face flushed, "I've got this throbbing, Skipper," he said, "I think I need some help."
"Your ankle?" I enquired.
"No, not my ankle . . . ." and he groped his groin and leered at my lasciviously. McNeil caught the look and grinned too. This time it was me that got jumped. The two young soldiers launched themselves at me and I was pinioned on the seat by two sets of strong young arms. I struggled, not too much, but they managed to overpower me and dragged my shirt over my head. Then they attacked my belt, managed to get it undone and dragged my slacks down and off my legs. Then they both stripped off in record time and we lay in a tangled, writhing snake of arms and legs.
I could sense that the booze and the excitment had made Billy totally sex-crazed. He leant over and started to tongue my right nipple while he ran his hand up my thigh and played teasingly with the tip of my now rock hard cock. I responded by reaching round and running my hand down his sweat lubricated back and into his muscular arse crack. In a second my finger had found his puckered fuck hole and was gently probing itand without the slightest resistance it entered him. Not even pausing in his attention to my tit, he got to his feet, leaned over the seat and groaned, "OK, Skip, do it. DO IT NOW!"
I stood up and got behind him and, taking my cock in hand, started rubbing the tip up and down his arsw crack and under his balls. Every time the tip passed his fuck hole I felt it relaxing, waiting for me to plunge in. Finally, after four or five teasing swipes past his hole, I stopped and rested the tip of my cock at the rim of his arse and waited. I pressed it gently against his puckered bum-hole. His arse muscles relaxed, admitting an inch or so, and then tightened again. It was again clear to me that Billy could use his arse like an expert. In no more than two seconds I was all the way in, with my balls resting against his muscular cheeks, and feeling great. I started to ride in and out, slowly at first. Each time I would ease slowly out I could feel his arse tighten, as if he couldn't bear to let go of my cock. When I started to push it in again, he would rapidly tighten and relax his ass, sending shivers of passion through me. I reached around to play with his cock while I fucked, only to find that McNeil had slithered up the seat and had it in his mouth. I settled for massaging Billy's tits instead while I shagged him slowly and firmly.
Billy started to rotate his hips with each slow thrust of my cock, at the same time driving his own cock deeper into McNeil's mouth. I plowed a little faster and harder, trying to hold back and make it last as long as I could. Within a few minutes, like it or not, I was out of control. Releasing his tits, I grabbed his hips and started to drive my throbbing cock into him as hard and deep as I could. My balls bounced against his with each thrust. Both of our nut-sacks had stiffened, both sets of balls had ridden up, close to releasing their frantic juices. The harder and faster I plunged into his hot bum the tighter he clenched his arse ring and the more awesome it felt. A couple of times I drove into him so hard his cock was shoved involuntarily deep into McNeil's throat, gagging him. I began to sweat like a pig by this time, and was driving my cock into Billy and making a rhythmic sound from the slapping of flesh against flesh. I could really feel the pressure building up and my balls tightening as they got ready to release their load. Grabbing Billy around the waist I drove my cock deep into his arse and started to shoot load after load of my hot cum into him. As I delivered my load I could feel Billy's arse spasming around my cock as he shot his own sticky splurge into McNeil's throat. We were perfectly synchronized! After I had finally jetted my full load of cum into Billy's arse and was about to pull out he reached around, grabbed my arse and pulled me closer into him, still gripping his ass muscle around my cock, and milking every last drop of cum out of it. Finally my cock softened and slipped out with a wet plop.
Billy and I had achieved yet another mammoth orgasm. We lay back, sweating and spent and both pairs of eyes were rivetted to McNeil. He was lying on his back with one hand caressing the inside of his thigh and stroking up against his balls. His forefinger began stroking one of his balls while his other hand lay flat on his stomach. For the moment his penis had gone flaccid its head drooping between the other ball and his thigh but it was clearly stirring into life again.
He slipped the other hand downwards, stroking the smooth area between his navel and his pubes, a thick forest of hair sited low down and with a sharp upper line. When they reached the root of his prick, he parted his fore and second finger and ran them as a vee down to slide along his rapidly thickening shaft. A few strokes with his fingers along the upper half of his short shaft and the glans began to look distinctly angry and swollen.
Now he slid a finger to the other side of the shaft and hooked it below, supporting it so that the glans, by now doubled in size, was raised up. His thumb rubbed the upper surface of the shaft and he moved the rest of his fingers in support. By now his weapon supported itself.
For a moment he lay admiring his manhood and he watched as the taut skin pulled slowly back across the glistening plum-coloured skin of his helmet. Slowly he stroked, he was taking his time. The tight foreskin retracted from his flaring corona, the upturned rim of his glorious helmet and he pressed down with his gliding fingers, stretching the skin on the shaft enough to clear the rim.
Now he grasped his shaft and began to work in earnest. His beautiful body began to writhe. Glancing at his feeat I saw his toes wiggle. His small, hard buttocks clenched - full bum cheeks with deep side hollows. Now he slipped his hand up higher, and began to caress the point below the glans with the side of his finger. By now a thin fluid was oozing from his piss-slit and between his muscular thighs his ballshad pulled high and close as his orgasm neared. He commenced a rhythmic pumping action, his right hand sliding all the way up and down his rod. His other hand cupped his bollocks with his forefinger digging into the root of the shaft beneath the taut skin.
His hips and thighs reared up once more, his toes and feet twisting, his head thrashing from side to sie with a look of exquisite agony on his face.
Billy and I looked on, agog to see such a private, personal display taking place inches from our fascinated gaze. Any second now he had to cum! McNeil gave a heart-wrenching moan, he gasped and the first wad was launched, jetting out and splatting onto his belly. He writhed and sent the second spurt splattered onto the deck. A great round glob of pearly white jism. Despite our earlier session and presumably because of his young age, his third spasm also managed to sent a glob into the air, this time landing on his still pumping wrist. He spasmed again and again, but now producing jets of more liquid semen which flowed warmly down onto the top of his hand.
"Fuuuuuk!" he groaned, "Fuck me, that wis sae guid." And without another word he crawled off to the fo'c'sle and clambered into his bunk. Spent. Exhausted.
I winked at Billy and we slid off together to my bunk at the aft end of the boat.