Soldier Boy

The gray floor of the barracks filled the vision of Private Mark Davis as he crawled down the aisle between the two rows of bunk beds, using a small brush to scrub the tiles. He could feel the pattern of the tiles on his knees and his left forearm as he removed the dirt from the training grounds from the floor of his home for the last six months. This was not the first time that he had been assigned cleaning duty since his arrival at Fort Bragg for airborne training, but it was the first time he had ever been the only one to be involved. It was the middle of the night and he had no idea where the rest of his platoon was, because their bunks were empty. It was also the only time he had to accomplish his goal with such a small cleaning instrument. He also had no idea why he was completing his duty completely naked.

Laughter distracted him from his job and he glanced up to see Captain Walter Logan enter the barracks with the two girls who had left the local bar with the handsome captain earlier that evening. The trio didn't seem to notice Davis as they entered. The two girls were hanging on Logan, who had an arm around each as he kissed the redhead. The blonde's hand ran down Logan's chest and began caressing his fly. Logan switched his attention to her and the redhead began kissing his jaw and throat, her tongue licking along his flesh.

Heat flooded through Davis's body and he tried to return his attention to his task, trying to determine how to remove himself from the room without embarrassment. He was only nineteen but Davis didn't consider himself a blushing virgin. He had been seventeen and enrolled in high school when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. He had wanted to enlist right away, but his mother had asked him to finish his education. He had graduated, married his childhood sweetheart, honeymooned in the loft of her parents' barn, and enrolled in the army. He and Julie had both been virgins the night of their wedding. They had both been nervous, but their lovemaking had been sweet and satisfying before he had left their small town in northern Alabama.

The son of a Baptist minister, being thrown with men from all over the country had provided a cultural shock for Davis. The unfiltered language had been the first surprise for the boy. He had eagerly drank his first beer, and the taste had been horrible, but the he had drunk himself sick the first time. Now, when he joined his friends at the local hole, he drank one beer very slowly. He did not want to repeat the hangover experience. He had also been surprised by the women who flocked to the boys in uniform whenever they were outside camp. He had not been tempted, but several of his fellow soldiers had left the bars with the girls, whether they were married or not.

The girls always noticed Captain Logan. The tall New Yorker had a rakish grin, icy blue eyes, and sandy brown hair. His nose was crooked and he had a scar over his lip that made him seem like just enough of a bad boy that the southern girls practically swooned at his feet. Logan wasn't married, and he never left the bar alone when the boys had leave from camp.

Davis glanced up again. The trio were now naked. He didn't know how they had removed their clothing so quickly, or even where their clothing had landed. He didn't see it anywhere. They were on one of the bunks. Red was on Logan's thigh and they were kissing again. Logan's hand was on her full, heavy breast. The blonde was on her knees, licking her way down Logan's firm stomach, making her way toward the stiff member standing at full attention.

Davis certainly understood why women were drawn to Logan. In addition to his good looks and impressive build, Logan had a charisma that drew people to him. He was the kind of leader that was the hero of movies, where his soldiers were willing to follow him to certain death. He was tough on his men, but they trusted him completely. After only a few weeks, they became a well-oiled unit. Women wanted to be with him, men either wanted to be him or be standing beside him.

Red broke the kiss and began working her way down his body. Logan's fierce blue eyes immediately focused on Davis, and his lip curled into that familiar grin that made the recipient feel like the only person in the world that mattered. "How 'bout a ride, Farm Boy?"

Davis sat straight up in his bunk so quickly that he nearly hit his head on the top rail. His heart was pounding as he blinked, trying to clear the sleep from his mind. His body was hot and he was breathing fast. He could feel his erection stretching against the fly of his boxers and his hands went to cover it as his brown eyes darted around the barracks to see if any of his company mates were awake. Seeing no movement, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat there for a moment with his head in his hands, attempting to force the dream out of his head.

Mark Davis loved his wife. He had loved Julie Channing since they were six years old. She was the only girl he had ever loved, the only girl he had ever kissed, and the only girl he had ever touched. He would never love another girl. The girls who flirted with the soldiers at the bars never tempted him. He remembered watching Logan leave with Red and the blonde from the bar the night before, but that was all he remembered about them. In his dream, Logan had been fondling one of the girl's breast, but he couldn't recall anything about her. However, in his mind's eye, Davis could see every line of Logan's muscled chest and abdomen.

Since coming to Fort Bragg, Captain Walter Logan occupied Mark's mind way too often. Mark kept trying to brush it off as hero worship, but he also knew he wasn't a real virgin the night he had said "I do" to Julie. One year his father had hired a drifter during the harvest. Working side-by-side, Mark and the young man had developed a friendship, and then just before the man had been set to leave . . .

Mark sprang to his feet, quickly reaching into his locker for a towel. He tried not to think about that summer, and he tried not to think about Logan. A cold shower would take care of everything. It always had in the past. Without looking up, he made his way to the bath house, trying to force Julie's face to the front of his mind. He undressed and stepped into the open shower with his erection still pointing skyward. He turned the cold on full blast and jumped as the icy spray hit his hot chest. He stuck his head underneath the shower, letting the water douse his head and run down his back. He placed his hands on the wall and thought about Julie laying in the hay of the barn loft, her blonde hair, her pale skin, her reaching arms.

He reached down to his erection, curling his hand around the base of his cock, and began stroking it. He moved up and down in a steady rhythm, squeezing as he stroked. Images of Logan's body, shirtless and slick with sweat during a pick-up game of basketball, competed with those he conjured of Julie. Mark moved his hand faster, tilting his head back so the cool water flooded his hot face. His breath was coming in deep gasps, and the water was running in his mouth. He turned to spit it out, opening his eyes, and froze in mid-stroke. Someone was standing just inside the shower room watching him.

Not just someone. Of course isn't was just anyone, and if the cold water hadn't woke him up, he would have thought he was trapped in another dream. Logan was shirtless, a towel wrapped around his waist. He had his hand inside the towel, pulling on his cock as he watched Mark. "Don't stop," Logan said, his voice soothing, when he saw the distress and embarrassment on Davis's face. He released his towel and began walking toward Davis, his semi-erect member bouncing as he closed the distance.

Horrified and hypnotized, Mark turned his body as Logan stopped in front of him, his back to the shower water now. Logan reached around him to adjust the temperature, adding hot water and steam to the room. "That's better." He leaned forward, his breath warm against Mark's cheek as he spoke in a soft voice. "Would you like me to help finish the job, Farm Boy?" Mark understood why Logan never left the bar alone. If he spoke to the girls in the same voice, they would be helpless but to obey.

THe captain did not wait for an answer. Instead, he reached down to grip the base of Mark's stiff cock and resume the stroking. He kept his hand around his own cock as he serviced his subordinate. Mark dropped his head to watch. Logan was steadily moving his hand up and down Mark's dick, his touch alternating between light and firm. Meanwhile, he would grip the base of his own cock, yank down and pull the length of it, and then let it flop against his leg.

Until it was no longer falling, but growing hard and longer. Mark didn't think he had ever seen anything as glorious as the water droplets gathering on Logan's chest in the hot steam and racing down the etched lines of his stomach. Logan's cock was thick and at least eight inches long. The head peeked out, angry and purple and beautiful. Everything else disappeared in Mark's mind, including himself. All he could see and think about was Logan's body.

Both of them fully erect, Logan began stroking faster, the muscles in his arms bulging as their breathing became labored and mingled. Helpless, Mark leaned against the shower wall, his fisted hands relaxing as he gave himself to the pleasure. He could hear the water hitting the shower floor, their gasps for air, and the slap of Logan's hands working in tandem. He closed his eyes, the hot water running down his fiery face, and groaned.

A familiar tightening in his stomach, and clenching in his balls, made him pop his eyes open suddenly. He knew what was about to happen and he reached out to grab Logan's wrist in an attempt to stop him. Logan squeezed tighter and suddenly Mark was squirting thick stream over their stomachs and Logan's hands. Logan did not pause his assault. Instead, he moved even faster, slamming his fist up and down his own cock until his own hot cum was mingled with Mark's. Only then did he release Mark. "Damn, Farm Boy, that little wife of yours is a lucky girl."

Mark turned to face the hot water of the shower, rinsing the evidence of their actions off his body. Logan quietly stepped to the next shower head, turned on the water there, and did the same. They showered in silence. Mark was embarrassed and ashamed, but he didn't sense the same emotions coming from Logan. Instead, Logan was whistling under his breath as he soaped his body and rinsed off. He finished and shut off the water. "Careful, Farm Boy," he said as he reached for his towel, "You're going to turn into a wrinkled old man if you stay in here much longer." He winked and was gone.

Mark stood there a moment longer, knowing no scalding water would wash away the memory of what had just happened. He didn't know how he would ever face Captain Logan again, but that in a few short hours, he would be performing training exercises led Logan. How could he face Julie? He couldn't even face himself.

And that's how things began.