Green Berets , Jockstraps

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GREEN BERETS AND JOCKSTRAPS

PART ONE

I had a bad feeling. Something was wrong. My Special Forces team stood ready and eager in the plane, about to parachute out the big cargo door over Pukudu Deme.

But something is wrong! The moment they opened the C-130’s big rear door, and I got my first view of the Pacific island, when the air rushed in with the heat and humidity, a strange uneasiness hit me. Bad feeling! Bad feeling!

The Jumpmaster shouted “Go!” and the first man jumped out the door followed by the next and the next and the next, and as the line shuffled quickly to the door, suddenly I saw —

The man ahead of me is naked!

The man about to jump out the door was nude — no helmet, no camouflage Battle Dress uniform, no parachute! Bare skin! What the hell??

I shook my head, and instantly everything was normal — Hizevsky was fully dressed as he dived out the door, but I was so astonished I almost stumbled out the door after him.

Once falling through the sky, the excitement of a military parachute jump took over, and I went through the mental checklist of things to do. When I felt the pull of the canopy opening above me, I looked up to check the lines and grabbed for the toggles that steered it. I looked down.

Pukudu Deme spread out below me, a tiny, anchor-shaped island with the crater of an extinct volcano at the far end and white lines of surf leading down to mirror-image, rounded lagoons at the other. Beautiful place. It was deserted, uninhabited, almost unknown, discovered only recently by satellite mapping. Have to come back here sometime with the wife.

***** Our team was on a training mission to survey the tiny place for a clandestine landing strip — a secret runway, a hidden ace card for any US aircraft in the area that might be in trouble. Pukudu Deme was a very lonely spot in a group of empty volcanic atolls. Completely unknown. No information about it anywhere.

And for a National Guard Special Forces team to get the mission was a real honor. The 12 of us looked forward to a two-week “summer camp” of real-world military action.

The Air Force put us out over Pukudu Deme at 1,400 feet — a low-level combat jump. I steered for the landing zone, a wide part of the beach — 900 feet — 850 feet — 800 feet. At 750 feet the heat hit me. Whew! The place is a furnace! 700 — 650 — 600 — 550 — I got ready for the landing — 500 — 450 — 400 — 350 — Beautiful place, really. Flowers everywhere! 300 — 250 — 200 — Get ready! I released my pack, and it fell to the end of the long tether attached to my harness — 150 — 100 — 50 —

Ka-bam! I hit the ground and rolled onto my side. Good landing. In the drop zone. Didn’t hit a tree or step in a hole. A landing I can walk away from. Good landing!

Man, is this place hot!! I gathered up my chute, put on my pack, and started moving toward the assembly area. Couldn’t get over the momentary weirdness back in the plane. What in hell came over me? Must have been from the excitement.

By the time I got to the assembly point, I was drenched in sweat. The humidity was awful, but the air had a haunting perfume, a wonderful smell of flowers. But damn, it was hot!

*****

I stood at the assembly area counting noses — everybody accounted for. Ali, my Assistant Team Leader, waved to me, and I walked over to where he stood with McGinnis, the Operations Sergeant.

“Captain Tudizzi, the supply drop hit a rock and broke open the container.”

“Anything damaged?”

“The radios, both of ’em. Don’t know what else yet.”

“Both radios? Damn.” I wiped the sweat away from my face. “Jeez, this place is hot! Let’s get into the shade.”

The team moved from the beach into the nearby jungle. Ali held up a thermometer. “120 degrees. That’s scary. Heat-stroke temps. I saw weather reports just before we left — a heat-wave over this area.”

“Well, we don’t have any big time pressures. The surveying will take only a day or two. We’ll just take it easy — lot of swimming drills, no mountain-climbing. Get the surveying done in the early mornings.”

I glanced over at some of the other men sitting under palm trees, looking like an old communist poster for the suffering, sweating working class. A couple had even pulled off their shirts. I muttered out loud, “I don’t like losing both the radios. Maybe Collins can fix one of them. Hopefully we won’t need them.”

But then something weird again — suddenly the men taking shade under the trees were naked! Their uniforms completely gone!

Astonished, I shook my head. Everything snapped back kocaeli escort to normal. What in hell is happening to me?? Is this from the heat?

I got an idea. “Tell you what, guys, let’s all take a quick dip in the ocean to cool off!” That brought cheers. We all stripped down for a quick dip — and then I did see naked bodies, but at least this time I’m not seeing things.

Hunky guys. Every man on the team is a real stud! I forced myself to look away. Why am I noticing this now? Never paid attention before. We’d all been in the showers dozens of times. My mouth watered. Damn, what’s the matter with me? I’ve never looked at a man before! I’m married, for hell’s sake!

I got out of the water and walked back onto the sand. But I couldn’t keep turned away. Had to look back. Damn, look at those guys! The muscles! The round butts! I felt my cock hardening. Oh, shit, now what? Damn! My dick stood up hard and proud. How fucking embarrassing!

When I came out of the water, the other members of the team started splashing back to the shore, and when I looked back, every one of them had a hard cock, too! Everybody was red in the face, smiling sheepishly.

“Looks like everybody’s turned on”

Hizevsky, the medic. I looked hard at him. At 20, Joe Hizevsky was the youngest man on the team. I had wondered about that when he first joined the team as the medic. My life is going to be in the hands of a 20-year-old kid? But the Special Forces Medic course was the longest in the US Army, and they came out practically surgeons. Hizevsky knew everything about the human body, and he knew every medicinal plant in the book. The guys called him The Sorcerer.

I moved behind some trees where my upjutting dong couldn’t be seen while I pulled my pants back on — but I didn’t want to put my clothes on again. I stopped with just my jockstrap on. I want to stay naked! Such a rush of arousal swept over me, I couldn’t keep my hand off my cock. God, I’m horny!!

So turned on I had to fight the impulse to jack off right there, I got a weird idea — a solution to the heat and the horniness. Yeah! I couldn’t resist a couple of strokes over the pouch covering my stiff cock. Wait till I tell them!

After a couple of moments, as the naked men walked out of the water, from behind the trees I raised my voice. “Men, in this heat we’re going to have stroke and heat prostration problems without some special arrangements.” I cleared my throat and took a deep breath.

“For the duration of the exercise, the uniform of the day will be jockstraps and boots — only way to beat the heat!” I stepped from behind the trees, clasping my hands over my head in victory.

Dead silence.

After a few seconds, though, the shock wore off, and after looking at each other with little smiles, the men got busy getting “dressed.” In just their jockstraps.

Damn, I was hot. What a group! Fine bodies, fine! Look at those muscles! I was a little disappointed to see all those big cocks being stuffed behind jockstrap pouches, but I loved seeing all that skin.

Ali, my second-in-command lay back on some soft bushes. Warrant Officer Joe Ali was African American and Southern Baptist, not Muslim — his father had changed the family name to Ali as a political statement back in the Sixties. He was a schoolteacher in civilian life. Handsome man. Funny, I never thought that before . . . and in a jockstrap, he ‘s downright . . .

I shook my head. For hell’s sake, what’s wrong with me? Ali and I had been leaders of the team for several years. I knew his family; he knew mine. Although we had showered together many times, I had never looked at him with sexual thoughts before. What the fuck is happening to me??

I walked off in the opposite direction — only to see Dozier.

Sergeant Al Dozier was a big martial arts expert, my weapons sergeant, the other black guy on the team. Tough guy. Had a few scrapes with the law. Worked construction as a civilian.

Couldn’t help myself — I stared. Dozier was 6’5″, 250 pounds, and built like an M-1 tank.

What’s come over me? What have I done? I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I’ve never looked at men this way before! Now I’m almost drunk! And wait till they hear back at Headquarters that I let everybody run around in jockstraps!

I turned away in yet another direction. There I found Hizevsky, our young medic, lying back in the foliage. Looking up at me with lust in his eyes. Posing like a magazine model. I licked my lips as I looked at the bulge in his jockstrap. For such a young guy, he’s really hung!

I kocaeli escort bayan was so horny I felt like yanking off my supporter and declaring that all men would walk around naked. I bit my lip to keep my mouth shut. Something is playing with my mind!

I liked Hizevsky’s jock. A swimmer’s model. Thin straps. I like that — bares more skin.

I looked back at Dozier, who was striding through the jungle toward me. Magnificent. The bull. He was staring at me, and I realized I was breathing hard. Damn, look at that jock pouch swell up! His cock is thrusting up over the waistband.

Couldn’t tear my eyes away. Black as ebony. I can see it throbbing from here! When it grew hard enough that his foreskin slid back from the head, it was shiny and wet. Wish I could see all of that big thing! As if he read my mind, Dozier reached down and pulled the pouch aside. I saw it. Stunning. A stallion. A monster bobbing in the air with every step.

Then I could read his mind. I knew what he wanted. I knew what he was coming for. And something in me snapped.

I sank to my knees in the sand as Dozier walked up, and I opened my mouth to suck in that big, drooling thing. I spread my jaws wide around the huge, hot, mind-blowing cock! Oh, yeah! I grunted like a pig as I sucked it, and my hands gripped the huge shaft — My god, both hands! Can’t close my fingers around it! Dozier grabbed my head and rammed his cock down my throat, almost choking me.

But with my heart pounding in my chest, I didn’t care! I couldn’t say a word — mouth and throat full of his meat — but I grunted with lust, my brain on fire. Yeah! Yeah, ram that big thing down me, all the way down my throat! Fuck my throat! FUCK MY FACE!

In a very short time, after only a few lunges, Dozier cummed, and a boiling gush shot down my throat. And his orgasm spread to me! My own cock spurted my jizz in long blasts into my jockstrap, and long, white drools of it soaked through the mesh to slither to the sand.

Dizzy, almost blacked out from the ecstasy, I fell back, and Dozier’s big cock slipped from my mouth. Streams of his cum ran from the corners of my lips. I gulped air into my lungs — and the rest of his jizz down my throat.

I lay before him, moaning in pleasure — God, oh, God . . . never felt anything like it . . . I got off from sucking another man’s cock . . . but gradually I came to. My god, what have I done?? I’m a US Army captain, and I just gave a blowjob to a sergeant — in the presence of all my men!

I opened my eyes.

None of my men were watching. All around me the team was in an orgy! The bigger men were paired with the smaller ones, the shorter guys sucking their cocks, their eyes closed, everybody horny as sailors, the jungle full of men kissing and groping each other in the bamboo thickets

This is getting out of control!

Farther back in the foliage, other members of the team engaged each other in more serious competition.

Not only did I see blowjobs, I saw Special Forces cocks going up Green Beret asses. They’ve gone all the way! I should have been disgusted . . . but I was jealous!

When Ali walked over to me, he wore a grim smile. “Interesting command technique, Captain Tudizzi.” I was still breathing hard, and I was still hot. His eyes, too, were dark, dilated in lust. I wanted more.

I lay back on the ground, spread my legs, and lifted them in the air. “Got another technique you’ll like. A performance test.”

Without another word, Ali dropped onto me, mounted me, and pulled aside the elastic straps blocking his aim at my asshole. Then he aligned his big cockhead, and YEEOWTCH! Jesus Fucking Christ!! He’s ramming an M-16 barrel up my ass!

But I didn’t scream. Didn’t let myself yell anything. I was the commanding officer, after all. Bad example for my men. I took Ali’s huge cock up my virgin ass, biting my lip so hard it bled. But I got every last inch. His cockhair ground into my pelvis.

I love it! I was so hot, so horny, once the first pain faded away, it turned into the most exhilarating feeling I ever had, and it built up to an pleasure so strong it was almost an orgasm without cumming!

It got through to my cock, though, and I went over the falls — I sputtered more of my jism into my jockstrap pouch. Oh, man, this is crazy! Two orgasms in 10 minutes!

And something else: my cock was cooling down, but my asshole still sizzled in the ecstasy of being fucked. Ali kept me floating on a cloud of pleasure all the way to his own cumming, and when he busted a nut in my ass, I felt it — and the idea that he was cumming in me drove izmit escort me into yet another ejaculation!

He lay on me, both of us panting and sweating. His mouth close to my ear, he whispered, “Fine ass, Captain. Ultra-fine.” He paused, took in a breath. “Captain Tudizzi, something is wrong here. Mass hypnosis, maybe. We’re all fuck-drunk.”

I looked around. The whole team was in an orgy of fucking.

No sooner did Ali get up off me than another man — Collins, the radio man — pulled my slimy jock pouch aside and started licking my cock, sucking up my jizz, cleaning it, making me hard again.

And as my cock went down his throat, I saw Ali join in as the men changed partners — moving to someone else or another sexual act as soon as they got an orgasm.

After Collins finished his licking my cock, I joined in with the rest, and gradually the men of my Special Forces team moved into a line of six men on their backs with another six mounted on them, fucking like there was no tomorrow. My cock thrust into the asshole of every man on my team, and when I was on my back, one after the other of my men shot his jizz up my ass.

At first the beach had filled with groans of agony as virgin rectums stretched around big Green Beret cocks, but in every case our faces gradually relaxed from grimaces of pain into the sloe-eyed, open-mouthed, drug-addict expressions of ecstasy. God, what a thrill! I love being fucked up the ass!

At one point, totally fucked out, I lay on the beach, panting, exhausted, barely able to raise my head. Hizevsky dropped to the ground beside me. “Captain,” he gasped, “I think we have a problem.”

I looked down. “With a cock that big, you have no problem.”

“That’s what I mean, sir. We’re all fuck drunk.”

I was beginning to get my hardon back. “Yeah. Ali told me. Why is that bad?”

“It’s getting stronger and stronger. Look at Dozier. He has now fucked every single man on the team at least once. And he’s starting over.” He rolled over to look at me. “Captain, that’s 12 orgasms in two hours!”

Nice cock. Hizevsky’s hard again already. I reached out for it, and when I touched him, he purred. He liked it. But he shook his head to clear his thoughts. “You see, Captain? We’re not coming out of it — Ooh, yeah, squeeze me . . . squeeze it there!”

I rolled toward him and bent down to his crotch. “So what’s causing it?” I opened my mouth and took his big cock between my jaws, using my lips and tongue to push back his foreskin.

Hizevsky moaned deep in his chest. Fighting to keep focused, he looked into my eyes. “The flowers. We’re breathing the flowers — ah, god, you got a hot mouth! — Flower are like — oh, yeah, ungh! — Brazilian Iaieihonia . . . they cause hallucinations — Oh, Jesus GOD!”

His hips trembling, Hizevsky’s cock gushed a hot load of sperm into my mouth, and I gulped it down like a man dying of thirst. Fuck, I’m horny, and I love Hizevsky’s jizz. Where does it get that sweet taste?

And it hit me: I had blown every man on the team more than once. I could recognize some of them by the taste of their sperm.

Momentarily exhausted, Hizevsky rolled onto his back. Breathing hard, he looked up at me. “Captain, it’s the flowers! They’re some kind of Iaieihonia!”

Seeing me rolling over to mount him, he raised his legs and spread them. “But they make us sex-crazed . . . if we don’t do something to stop the — Ooomph! God, you’re big! Ram that big log in deep, you big bastard!”

My hips lunged against the healthy, muscular young man, my cock thrilling in the tight tunnel of his hard meat. But somewhere, in some unused space in my fuck-fevered brain, I knew it was true: We’ve got to get ourselves under control! If Hizevsky’s right, we could fuck ourselves to death!

A few minutes time later a blast of thunder rolled through the sky, and raindrops spattered over my face.

As the rain washed the Iaieihonia fumes out of the air, I could think clearly again. It’s washing the lust out of my brain! I had finished with Hizevsky by then, and I looked over at him. “Shit! We need to get out of here.”

“Well, at least the rain washes it away.”

“We’ve got to do something while it’s raining! Before the scent comes back!”

But what? We had no radios — and when I asked Collins if he could make one radio out of the pieces of two, he said in panting breaths, “I could fix it, but I’d rather feel my captain’s big piece of meat stretching my asshole!”

And who could resist such an invitation? I positioned Collins like a four-legged radio bench, then plugged myself into him as I twisted the dials of his nipples, jolting him with wavelengths as we both searched for our favorite station.

My men and I fucked ourselves into exhaustion for the rest of the day and into the night.

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