Good Monday Morning!
Here’s another read from me since Michael is tied up today.
I’m using one of my favorite pictures from the web. Thank God DADT is gone…
Out in the hot deserts of Afghanastan, thirsty, exhausted from the long trek from camp and all I could think about was those pouty lips that belonged to the Sarge.
Licking my lips, I keep staring, desiring to take them into my own and make love to him for hours. Lord knows we’d had so many chances to explore, only to be interrupted by several of our fellow officers, asking about who know what and frustrating the hell out of me.
Perhaps he felt the same.
I sure hoped so! We’d been exchanging glances and flirts for like six weeks. Who knew I’d find someone of like mind in this outfit? So many had said this platoon was the most homophobic. Many of my friends said I wouldn’t last a week.
Yeah it hadn’t been all that fun, hearing the slurs and having other officers call you a faggot just for looking at them too hard but no one tried to beat my ass just yet.
Needing to focus on the job at hand, I finally stopped gawking at the hot ranked officer. I grabbed my canteen and turned it upside down, pouring a good portion of the water on my face and down my throat. The cool liquid soothed me and brought me out of my lust haze.
We couldn’t do anything out here even if we wanted to but maybe when when the sun set, I’d try something.
Hopefully he wouldn’t beat the shit out of me when I made the attempt.