There Clark Mathisson was, in the United States Marine Corps, with two more years to go before his discharge. There the Gunnery Sergeant stood with a transfer to Iraq in his hands. But, in a way, he was excited about going there, despite all the chatter about the downsizing of troops.
However, when he got there he found the accommodations less than desirable. To put it lightly, he felt he'd rather be living a tent down on the banks of the Euphrates than sleep in the quarters in which he was assigned.
But, fortunately, he knew someone already stationed there. He gave his staff sergeant friend, Ryan Ollsby, a holler. They'd known each other throughout all the basic training they had to endure after boot camp. Ryan was pretty much Clark's best friend in the Marine Corps. Even though they'd been separated for a few years, they had still remained in periodic contact by phone or email, and Clark knew that Ryan was somewhere there on that base.
Ryan was quick-sticks off to rescue his good buddy Clark Mathisson from the hell-hole he'd been dumped into, and offered him the extra bunk in his rather spacious three-man barracks room.
Ryan was the only one assigned to that room so there was no problem about crowding at all. Clark was head-over-heels grateful. Once again, Ryan had proven his awesome friendship. But Ryan Ollsby was also very seriously engaged to a very beautiful Iraqi newspaper woman. So even though Clark adored his pal, he also knew that he was very straight.
Anyway, Clark finally got all settled in and was really enjoying being stationed there in Iraq. Ryan was even able to pull a few more strings to get him assigned to his squadron, so that they could work together. What a pal!
However, soon came the day when Ryan decided he needed to live off-base, closer to his fiancee. Clark was happy for him; but happier for himself. It meant that he could have a room that was designed for three Marines, all to himself.
Clark gladly helped his friend pack up all his belongings and moved them over to his fiancee's place with him. After all, it was the least he could so. He thought the world of Ryan.
Returning to the barracks, Clark began settling into his spacious private room, which is pretty rare by Marine Corps standards. But the very next evening, he'd just gotten back from work and there is some guy unpacking his gear and moving himself right into his private room. What the fuck?! He was super pissed at first, but he knew it wasn't the guy's choice or his fault. You go where you're told to go in the Marines - that is, unless you have connections.
So, Gunnery Sergeant Clark Mathisson simply introduced himself to his new roommate. He noticed right away that the guy was super buff and remarkably handsome. He seemed nice, but kind of aloof, thought Clark. It wasn't that he didn't like Clark, but more like he just couldn't care less. Amused at the idea, Clark thought 'Okay, this is cool; maybe this guy won't bug him and they can co-exist in a very neutral way.'
Still, there was something about the guy that was bothering him. Somehow, he seemed awfully familiar.
After a while, it finally dawned on Clark where he'd seen the fellow- jarhead before. "You're from New Point are you?" said Clark, referring to his last duty station.
"Yeah," he answered, "So what?"
"I knew I'd seen you from somewhere before." replied Clark.
The new roommate couldn't care less. He pretty much ignored the statement. So Clark continued.
"I've seen you at Brukker's bar over in Sadr City, haven't I?"
The new roommate gave a non-committal shrug as he continued stashing his personal stuff away into drawers.
Clark smiled to himself thinking that this guy's gonna be tough, but he really didn't give a fuck.
Still, he went in to say, "Well, I'm from Ohio. How about you?"
At this point, the guy's face actually brightened, and said, "I'm from Ohio, too."
They finally shook hands. His name was Graham Holland, Lance Corporal Graham Holland -- and with a wry smile, he asked Clark not to make any jokes about 'crackers'. They both laughed. After that moment, in days to come, they grew a little more comfortable with each other.
Clark had himself a rather impressive little home entertainment system, and pretty much had Graham at his mercy. If he wanted to watch any DVDs or listen to any CDs he had to go through Clark first; even though Clark had told him to make himself at home. He was even accommodating enough to show Graham the remotes for everything.
Clark figured that since he had to live with Ryan, he may as well make him as comfortable as possible. That way he, himself, would be comfortable as well. He made a conscious effort, perhaps not to avoid him, but to let him get settled into having his own space for a while. For the next few evenings he stayed out late with Ryan and his other drinking buddies before coming home from work duty.
As days progressed, Clark couldn't help but notice that when Graham got up in the morning, he was completely naked. Clark had never had a roommate who'd done that before. He also noticed that his roommate's body was perfectly sculpted and was sure that he spent a lot of time keeping it that way.
One night, Clark came in after drinking heavily with some of his pals. Graham greeted him at the door, "Where the hell have you been?" he blurted.
Clark was a little trashed and somewhat confused by the guy's attitude.
"Ah... I was just out with some friends." He casually relied.
"Well, some guys came looking for you earlier; I told them I didn't know where you were." he chortled.
He seemed overly excited for some reason, as if he were worried about Clar, or something.
"Yeah, man, I met up with them a while ago." returned a rather bemused, and rather inebriated Clark.
Graham looked so fucking handsome at that moment, thought Clark. He appeared to be so damn concerned for his health and his safety. Clark Mathisson was considerably touched. He couldn't take his eyes off the handsome Lance Corporal. Then he suddenly realized why he couldn't take his eyes off him; he was just two inches away from the guy's face. But he wasn't looking into Clark face; he was looking down at his chest.
Clark didn't quite understand this weird move or Graham's motives. But of course, at this stage of Clark Mathisson's life he didn't understand much of anything. He merely thought Graham, for whatever reason, was too ashamed to look him in his eye.
Clark was backed up against the door. And since he hated being backed into any corner, he had to grab Graham's shoulders to move him back so that he could ease out of the awkward backed-up position. And as Clark touched his roommate's body, he slowly looked into his eyes. He appeared to relax a little.
Clark was really confused. He had never thought in his wildest dreams that this big masculine marine could be so vulnerable.
'Could he have missed me from not being at home tonight' thought Clark. 'Hell, no! Don't flatter yourself' he mused. And yet, his hands on Graham's shoulders felt so damn right and good.
As Clark moved him back away, Graham's hands slowly found his roommate's waist. Due to his alcoholic buzz, Clark was sure he was imagining this steamy contact. But then Graham's strong powerful arms pulled Clark closer to him. In an instant, Clark's cock sprang into a powerful, roaring woodie. Graham's dungarees hid very little too. Clark could feel the man's stiff commanding erection stretching and pounding against his thigh as well.
With a delightfully goofy smile on his face, Clark looks into those smoldering sex-drenched eyes and says, "What's up, man?"
"You know." responded Graham.
Clark said he did. He wasn't sure he did; but he thought he was sure he did know. The only thing for sure he really knew was that Graham was a fantastically stellar specimen of a human being. Perfect body; perfect mind; perfect face, and those perfect eyes were staring right into his. This guy was not only fucking beautiful... he was also fucking HOT!
Clark Mathisson couldn't ask for more. He wrapped his arms around Graham and kissed him as deeply and as hungrily as he could. Graham was more than responsive. Clark owned that mouth; he savored every nuance within that warm delicious cavern. And at last he also owned Graham's ass. It was his now to grab, to grope and to lasciviously explore. He felt the guy up like nobody was ever felt up before. Hell, after all, he now completely owned this mutha fucking Marine! And a damn fine Marine at that.
Graham pulled Clark down onto his bunk, right on top of him. Clark pulled off the lance corporal's tee shirt and found his pink erect nipples. His chest was slightly hairy and Clark liked that, as he licked those nipples until Graham growled and moaned.
They both undressed in a hurry. At last Clark was up close and really personal with that exceptionally desirable body; the best he'd ever seen. Graham began to hotly nuzzle, smooch and kiss Clark's neck and chest with obsessed need - he then eased on down and got to work on his roommate's thick pulsing cock.
It soon became reasonably apparent to Clark that Graham had had some experience with this sort of thing. So he just lay back and let him work his masterful magic with is tongue and mouth.
Once Graham had tightly wrapped his warm, wet, sucking mouth around that cock, Clark Mathisson was his. No two ways about it. Clark's entire body trembled, jerked and shook with mind exploding lust as Graham vigorously continued to exert his masterful oral magic.
Clark completely failed to accurately describe the incredibly awesome feeling of having an undeniably masculine, hot-shot of a marine putting his hot moist mouth around your cock, and sucking it better than a 200-buck-an-hour Las Vegas whore. The Gunnery Sergeant just couldn't stop rapturously squirming and shaking with sizzling explosive feelings of immense sexual completeness. It was so FUCKING Hot!
Graham kissed, licked and sucked his cock like he'd been doing it for years. Clark soon felt the urge to reciprocate - besides, he hadn't had a cock in his mouth since his 18th birthday. He figured he was about due. Quickly, Clark guided his lover into a 69 position that would have pleased the god Eros, himself.
He slowly brought face close and put his mouth on Graham's cock. It tasted like the sweetest thing he'd ever had on his tongue. He was sure that the guy must have honey with his Wheaties at breakfast because his dick was so damn sweet, tasty, and suckable. He concluded that the lance corporal's pre-cum was the closest thing to ambrosia he had ever happily devoured.
When Graham began to kiss and lick at Clark's asshole, Clark grew tense. Quickly he flipped his partner over to avoid the analingus. He wasn't comfortable with it. Graham seemed agreeable to the new position. So Clark decided to lick his beautiful rosy lips. He responded by sticking his tongue deep into Clark's mouth. As he did this, he brought his thick muscular legs up and placed them on Clark's shoulder. Instantly, Clark Mathisson acknowledged that this was exactly where he was supposed to be.
The immense heat from Graham's body was incredible. Clark was totally consumed. Slowly he positioned his fat cockhead at the entrance of that furry manhole. He began imagining the intense fiery heat of that tight hole and how the abundance of ass hair around the hole was going to tickle and titillate his sensitive cock as he slammed it in and out. Graham was squirming and moving his ass around as if he knew what was coming. He had no idea.
Savagely Clark pushed the fat head of his cock into the prostrate Marine. He just winced a little and took a deep breath. Then Clark shoved a little more if his stiff fat meat in, and Graham's eyes really popped wide. But he knew he couldn't make a sound because the Marines next door might overhear and know what the hell was going on.
The asshole was amazingly tight and exceptionally hot around Clark's intruding cock. The gunnery sergeant literally worshipped the rapturous idea of being deep inside this phenomenal man; this phenomenal Marine! Graham began to softly moan and that sent Clark into an all-consuming sexual frenzy. His mind burned with commanding need to feel more of that sizzling ass. He lowered Graham's legs down and around his waist and began to savagely slam his steel-hard cock into the liquid-fire dominion of that ass, as far and as deep as he could go. Tightly Graham wrapped his muscular man's legs around the warrior's body of his gunnery sergeant and softly groaned like a beast consumed of pleasure. Clark put his warm, wet, needy lips to Graham's. Graham gladly accepted the exploring, invading thrust of his lover's searching tongue. Actually Clark was just trying to gently hush the burgeoning sexual sounds of his lance corporal, but he as hell wasn't going to stop slamming that ass. Because, as he rapturously skewered his stiff conquering boner in and out of him, he felt an amazingly incredible affinity with this affectionate, masculine, military paragon. He wanted to be inside his lance corporal forever and ever and ever.
But all of a sudden Clark felt the hot tight gripping asshole around his cock tighten even more. It was spasming. He couldn't control his cock any longer; he started to cum. In the heated throes of Eros, Clark tried to shove his entire body up inside that clenching, cleaving, welcoming asshole. He was on fire and nothing in the entire world could stop the on-coming maelstrom.
Clark needed to be inside Graham like nothing he had ever needed before in his life. And as he pounded the tight, sweet manly hole, Graham's first cock-explosion splattered across Clark's chest. The idea of his man spewing his manly seed across his chest further propelled Clark's spiraling and explosive desire. The tightening sphincter squeezed Clark's dick again and again and again. His orgasmic mind just went away. He was tossed aloft onto some deliciously warm, misty, dreamlike plateau where all things ethereal dwelt. Clark was cumming. He was cumming in such rapid, copious torrents that it could only be described as tsunamic. Graham was moaning so loudly and lustily that Clark had to cover his mouth with both hands this time.
After what seemed like an eternity, Clark finally eased his still-erect cock out of the lance corporal. Graham only had energy enough to say "thanks". Clark was jubilant that he was able to produce such phenomenal pleasure for another man; for another Marine. And besides that, none of the women he'd ever fucked had ever 'thanked' him.
Lance Corporal Graham Holland and Gunnery Sergeant Clark Mathisson remained friends, roommates and fuck-buddies until they returned to the states.
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