The Telemachus Story Archive

Marine ROTC Cadet Kevin Tyler
Part 1 - Part One
By Glaucon55
Email: glaucon55@aol.com



Marine ROTC Cadet Kevin Tyler

by  Glaucon55

NOTICE : All the Standard warnings about being of age, being aware of your community standards apply to the following story! Please read no further if you are underage 18/21--or live in a conservative area--or are offended by explicit sexual stories. This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to anyone is strictly coincidental, all rights are protected and the story cannot be reproduced without permission.

Marine ROTC Cadet Kevin Tyler

Part 1

I saw Kevin William Tyler II at the Law School library, researching his senior thesis on a rainy November night. It wasn't the first time I had followed him to a library on campus, or some other student haunt. Sometimes you see a guy, and you just can't get him out of your head. Something about the slope of his pecs, the way his coned nipples harden and jut, his casual smile, the length of his eyelashes, or maybe the sight of his naked and pale, muscled size 11 feet in flip-flops--so strong and yet so vulnerable. Some guys just capture your attention, and Kevin Tyler was one of those boys. He’d grown up outside Tucson, Arizona, played football and baseball, and decided he would join the Marines after college. He was in the Marine ROTC on the campus so he had an aura about him already. In my jerk-off fantasies, he was a tough shit with a cocky attitude, but shy in certain settings. Many a night I had shot streams of scum imagining that thick boned, hairy and handsome boy succumbing to my talented tongue and unruly fingers searching out any weaknesses and sensitivity he might have.

He had come that night to the Law Library with that military "I don't give a shit" look, those jutting pecs, short brown hair, a tight butt, and a quiet but manly swagger. Every person in the room knew it, could sense it. There were girls whose discreet stares suggested engorged clits and dripping pussies clenched tight between their thighs, dreaming of how his prick and his strong thighs might ream them endlessly into orgasmic oblivion. To them he was a fucking machine, a human dildo that they could make perform to endless delight. And there were guys in the room whose peckers had stiffened, some not even knowing why, but who instinctively either wanted to dominate or be dominated by this straight little butch punk. His brown hair was moist from the walk to the library from a light rain that was falling outside. His pale forearms seemed a stark contrast to the damp, dark, t-shirt he had unveiled by removing his wet jacket. Best of all, he was a small guy. Now you know there's a whole fantasy associated with small guys in the first place. Like Leprechauns of sex, they seem to evoke images of perpetually hard, ravenously virile, and continuously horny little toads. Kevin was all of 5'8", and compact. In high school he had been a back-up tailback on the football team, and 2nd base on the baseball team. That small tight body had served him well. His jeans contained two round, bubbled-butt cheeks--not conspicuous, but firm. They were supported by thick legs and calves, tapering down to nicely formed and slender ankles and wide, pale--muscular and veined--feet. I'd seen him at a party in a pair of flip-flops, curling his thick, long toes, and exposing the soft, padded soles of his feet. My cock drooled from the thought of sucking them, and tickling the shit out of them. From the front his torso disclosed thickly muscled arms, a broad chest leading to a narrow waist, and coned nipples whose tips jutted out against the fabric of the cotton t-shirt. He was wearing walking boots that enclosed those big boy powerful feet in white cotton socks.

I’d been admiring Kevin since the beginning of the semester. I met him through some buddies who played intra-mural basketball, and I made sure we ended up on the same team, the “Seamen from Uranus” (I know, nice pun). There were a bunch of chicks who’d hang out with us at the games we knew from the residence hall--all needy, and then we’d go to have pizza and beer after the games. Kevin was so easy, so smooth. When Audrey Simmons batted her coy eyes at him the first time, I knew from the knowing little smile he gave the rest of us guys that he was going to bang her from here to eternity in the near future. I could only imagine how his cock looked erect, sticky and glistening, and how it would shine with her juices as it sluiced up and down her cuntal trough, grazing her clit and screwing her pussy deep and hard as she squealed for more. When I jerked off in bed to that image and others of Kevin, my feet digging into the sheets as my fist slid up and down my stalk, I could hear him groan and see ropes of sperm rocketing from the tip of his bloated prong just as they squirted up and out of my own randy prick.

Sometimes when I followed him to the Library and saw him studying, his legs spread casually showing off that nice fat cock bulge, I imagined Audrey stroking her slender hands up and down his legs, making him go rock hard. The thought of her long, painted nails grazing his thick, erect cock stalk, making him helplessly horny for pussy he would get later, made me drip in my boxers. I was so fucking jealous of her I could hardly stand it. I wanted that tight-assed ROTC cadet in my hands, and I was determined to figure a way to get into his jeans.

I can't recall how I got him into a conversation that night at the library--my thoughts were so clouded with lust it all seems like a blur. I do recall that he was so earnest, looking at me through blue eyes with long lashes, and that each time he spoke those moist, full lips of his seemed to draw me closer. Kevin was like so many small-town boys, tough but sweetly dumb, not concerned with the broader world beyond. There were no conspiracies in the world of Kevin Tyler. He did not imagine that there were guys like me out there who fantasized about getting control of his perfect little body, in order to make it squeal for ejaculatory release in spite of his revulsion for queers and faggots. He and his high school buddies had gotten drunk on the weekends, talked pussy, and jerked off most of the time in the privacy of their bedrooms since they actually got so little cunt. That was the extent of their sophistication. Instead of fucking the cunt they craved, they worked their hard young bodies into perfection, hoping that someday they would get lucky and fuck till they dropped. They stood in front of mirrors in bulging jock straps and rally caps, admiring their beautiful bodies and dreaming of the day some cunt would lick them from head to toe. They were the kind of boys that someone with cunning could take control of. The right man could supervise their activities, and maybe their hard cocks. As I spoke to Kevin, I saw him gagged and bound, his hairy little ass up in the air before my face, waiting for me to force my tongue between the taut cheeks to tickle his virgin, hairy pucker. I wanted to fuck his throat with my tongue as I watched his lips move while he spoke to me at the library, and my prick got hard as I thought of other things I could get into his mouth. But all he was doing was casting that perfect smile that he shared with everybody. After all, we knew each other, and played hoops together. He could not know that I was staining my boxers with the thought of gripping those luscious buns.

He was working on a research project for someone on the nearby base as part of his military science coursework, and I offered to help him. I can write, and Kevin---well he could fuck. It was a perfect combination, and I had a sense my skills would overcome his. We talked after we'd retrieved the materials he needed, and as the library was about to close, I took a chance and asked him if he like to come over to my apartment for a beer where I could offer him more assistance. After all, we’d sipped a few after games, why wouldn’t he come with me?

That's how he ended up coming back to my apartment about 10pm, his back-pack slung over his shoulder. We shot the shit about sports like guys usually do, how the football team would do in the fall and all that crap, and the beers made things more and more relaxed as the time passed. As usual, with guys like Kevin, the talk turned to sex as the beer loosened him up. We were joking about how a Friday night found us both at the Library, rather than trying to bag chicks for some relief. He blushed when I talked about reaming my cock into something wet and tight, and lowered those long lashes and gave a knowing smile when I spoke about being desperately horny and without cunt for weeks. I pressed, "shit you probably get some from Audrey every night...I see the way looks at you..., like she can’t wait to get you back to her apartment. You’re a lucky dog, I’m just humping the table legs while you’re getting pussy.”

He laughed, "yeah, Audrey’s a sweet piece, but she’s insatiable" he groaned in fake pain. “Just so I could get this fuckin’ project done, I told her we’d have to hold off for a while. Now I'm the one who has blue balls"...a sexy grin curled the corners of his mouth and those full, sensual lips. "Seems like the best I can do these past two weeks with all my classes and ROTC is just grip my dick and give it some five-fingered relief...not like something I could bang till tomorrow, but jeez, a guy can't be a fucking monk...." The way he said it, was like a drug...those eyes batting shyly, his cheeks turning red from his own remarks, and the little boy smile on that big boy body.

As the conversation went on and I kept up our supply of beer, more and more about Kevin came out from his slurring voice. He may have been an innocent, but he'd had some pretty damn fucking interesting times. As we drank, he confessed that this wasn't the first time he'd "been on the rag" with a chick. In high school he'd gone to confession one Saturday during his senior year after a turn of conscience. He'd screwed a freshman cheerleader after getting drunk at a football post game party, and he'd found out she was a virgin. Father listened to him patiently as he asked for forgiveness and confessed that he'd committed a mortal sin. But then the priest began to ask little questions. "What was it about her flesh that made you commit sin?"

"What did you do?" "Did you enjoy her flesh…tell me how?" As Kevin awkwardly confessed to the priest, he felt more and more strange. Somehow, he had answered that he had licked her cunt, sucked her clit, and fingered her to a cum. He was sweating as he explained that yes, she had sucked his prick…he couldn't stop her…she was like a starving person, desperate for his meat. When he answered that he had shot cum into her mouth, his prick stiffened.

I realized I couldn't miss the chance. I had scored some roofies from one of the guys, and he’d claimed that when he and his chick had used them, they’d both felt like they were high and horny. If I could mix them with the Red Bull I had in the refrigerator, maybe I could get into the tight white briefs that I envisioned under Kevin's jeans. I’d tried the roofies out a week earlier at a dance club in the City getting this preppie punk from the college across town to slip out with me as the place was closing down, and he’d failed to bag a chick for the night. It had worked like a charm, and by the time I got the punk back to his car, I was able to get his pants and briefs to his ankles, and his 6.5 inch prong down my throat. He was so out of it, I was even able to get a hand up to his pecs, under his shirt, and roll his tits as I sucked. By the time I slipped a finger between his tight ass cheeks and tickled his anal knot, the kid was shooting streams of slime down my hungry throat. I was even able to score an encore, the kid was so wasted…but the Red Bull kept him going. I figured after that success, I’d try them out on Kevin, and see how far I could go. I popped one into his next drink, Red Bull and vodka, when he hit the bathroom and the sound of his piss stream filled the apartment. He acted none the wise, and smoothly transitioned to the hard liquor as our talk about tits and pussy proceeded, swilling a cocktail as we shot the shit.

As his eyes glazed and his tits seemed to harden, I made my move. After some bragging about how many times we had each cum on a given night, I turned with feigned and excited surprise and said: "Hey, I gotta porn flick; used it to keep my former fuck hot before we'd screw, wanta check it out." His face had begun to get a goofy expression, and he said sure in a sloppy voice. My dick lurched in my pants, getting full of blood and that itchy feeling around the knob. His motions began to get imprecise, and it seemed like his cock bulge got a bit fatter.

I thought about another kid I’d bagged the other night at that dance club. He was a freckled red head, with bright red hair and strawberry fur all over his arms, down his neckline, and I assumed places south. He was long and lanky, and the big knuckles and long, thick fingers made me want to grab his hand and start to suck those fingers till he fainted from the sensation. But since I didn't want to get a black eye or broken nose, I bought him drinks while he struck out with a brunette, he'd been cruising the whole night. She went out with a beefy blond, and our boy could only make a rueful smile, and slur out some cuss words about how his nuts ached and he needed to get laid. It was late, and the place was beginning to clear out, so I offered to help him find his car in the lot, and by the time we got to it, he was stoned from the 'mickey' I'd slipped him in his last drink of the night.

I'd helped him into the driver’s seat and offered to put the key in the ignition when he dropped them the first time, then couldn’t hit the hole the second. I told him to move over, and he acted like it must be ok since I seemed to know what I was doing. Then I got in driver seat of his SUV, and within a couple minutes we were parked in the darkest corner of the roof of the local garage. By the time I undid my seat belt, he was slouched down in his seat. I slipped my hand over to his crotch and found his shaft, thick and soft under his chinos. I began to roll my palm back and forth, and within seconds, his prong responded by stiffening, the blood slowly filling the thick tube and bloating the rubbery knob. I reached up with my free hand and started to pinch and twist his tits through his t-shirt, and like a good little dog, he thrust his chest out to my worrying, prying fingers. In minutes I had his chinos at his hairy ankles and my mouth slurping up and down his pale white shaft, my tongue lashing his fat, drooling fuck tip. It seemed like he wanted to push me away, sensing that it was not the brunette that was slobbering up and down his nine-inch stalk and sensitive knob. But his grunting and groaning revealed just how good it felt when my tongue curled around his prick tip causing it to expand lewdly, and I hollowed my cheeks to vacuum the tingling and impressive fat glans. That’s when I slipped my hand up under his shirt, and found the rubbery nubs of his tits, twisting them as I sucked voraciously, vacuuming his prong head, and making him hunch from the excruciating suck.

When I slipped my free hand under his balls and trailed a finger to the entrance of his hairy anus, the little fuck shoved his ass up and his prick deep into my throat hoping to evade my probing digit. But I managed to worm my fuck finger into the hairy portal and tickled just inside his virgin boy pussy. That's when he lost control of his fat knobbed dick, his body arced as he shot wads of tangy spooge into my mouth. I basted his bulging prick head over and over with my twirling tongue. He whined and grunted as my index finger twisted a bit further, and he cock tip swelled from the incessant sucking and licking it was receiving. I knew the kid didn’t know me from Adam, and we probably wouldn’t see each other again…even if he could remember what had happened to him. Since we were in a dark corner of the garage, on the top level, and I knew we would not be disturbed, I figured this was my jackpot for a night of patiently listening to his stupid cunt talk. God I loved watching him writhe and buck as I polished his pretty, fat prong head.

After his first cum, I actually stripped him down completely in his own car and tied his arms over his head, and his legs apart. Then I sucked and tickled every inch of his body, from his pale, strong toes, to his soft sweet ears. I suckled his tits, jerked his dick back to erection, and then slipped my moistened finger all the way up his bung while I jerked him to another explosive ejaculation. I scratched his nuts, tickled his pits, and watched as his long toes curled each time my sliding fist roiled over the bloated head of his aching prick, then slowly spiraled down the healthy, shamelessly hard, boy cock. When he finally came, after twenty minutes of slow fist work, I palmed his prick knob in my callused grip, torquing my palm round the spasming glans, milking him as he hunched and squealed, struggling to avoid my insistent massage and I suckled his near tit. After I untied him, I left him in the driver’s seat, with a blanket thrown over his sweat-sheened body, his cock still dripping sperm from the wide piss lips onto his stomach. God, what a fucking piece of meat.

These thoughts crossed my mind as Kevin and I watched the porn and my cock grew rigid. I could see that his jeans now bulged from a horny erection, and that like the punk at the dance club he'd slid down on the seat and spread his legs. In my mind's eye, I saw those jeans tangled around his ankles and my finger rooted up his asshole as his prick strained helplessly into the air, flinging drops of pre-fuck right and left. The time had passed so quickly, it seemed like midnight had arrived in ten minutes. When I asked if he liked muff diving, while we watched some big-dicked boy thrusting his tongue up from underneath the grinding hips of a beautiful blond in the film, his eyes seemed glued to the tube, his tongue licking his own lips salaciously, a hand casually rubbing back and forth across his straining erection. He was a drugged, nasty boy with an insatiable cock lust that needed my careful supervision.

The view from the film was from up between the guy’s legs. His hairy crack, big hanging balls, and taut pecker filled the lower portion of the screen and his thrusting tongue, sliding into the wet snatch pouting from above, filled the other half. The guy seemed like a lizard, the way his long tongue slipped up into the chick's muff, and lapped around her hard little clit. She squealed each time his licker scoured her button, and his own dick was drooling a long stream of pre-jizz down his hairy, thick stalk. I got the sense that my college Marine hopeful, now stoned from the roofie, was turned on by both the tongue pronged pussy, and the hefty pole bobbing on the screen. The more the big-dicked guy munched on the fine blond that he was eating, the harder his dick got and it seemed the harder and more horny Kevin got. The actor’s fuck talk about liking to lick pussy, and the way the chick groaned each time his tongue slid up her slit to her clit, seemed to make Kevin more turned on. He began to slide down further on the couch, his crotch bulging obscenely from the painfully constrained boner thrusting against his briefs and trapped in his tight pants. When the chick suddenly swung around and popped the dude's wide dick knob into her mouth, warming him up with a 69 and making him grunt with satisfaction, Kevin’s eyes closed and his head lolled---a slight groan coming from his lips

Uuuggggghhhhhh.

It was time to strike, and I needed to distract the already dizzy, horny ROTC trash so I could give him an excuse to let me manhandle him. “Man, Kev, now you should see how the dude’s pole is sluicing up the cunt’s hole…she’s dripping juice like a faucet, and his cock ridge is reaming her hairy twat lips. Man, she needs it bad…and this dude is gonna give her the fuck of her life…yeah….” As I talked, I opened a bottle of poppers and held it to his nose, closing each nostril as he helplessly inhaled. Then I let my palm reach over and close over Kevin Tyler's near leg. He tensed, the muscles cording...but his eyes did not open and he continued to moan. When he groaned again and he let my grip hold him in place I sensed victory. He moaned again, flexing his leg into my strong grip. We were off and running, and Kevin was about to surrender to a session that would make him cum harder than the porn star we’d been watching.

I pressed him with fuck talk, trying to keep him from concentrating on my grip on his leg. The scene had switched back to the chick giving the dude in the film a blow job, and I wanted to capitalize on what Kevin needed bad. "What'ya think about her fucking mouth...shit, she can swallow a log. Look at the way she's got him slick and sloppy, and how about her long nails scratching at his hairy nuts, and that long one scratching at his butt hole...keeping him in place while she sucks the scum outta him....Fuck...he's gotta blow a load soon...man that makes me drip!" As I spoke, I began to move my palm back and forth over his strong leg. Kevin, just drank in my gutter talk while my palm squeezed his leg more and more boldly, slowly moving up to his crotch, and brushing against his overheated nuts outlined in the tight crutch of his jeans. I saw a wet spot up toward his waist where his pole must have slipped from beneath his briefs and was drooling against the rough denim. Unconsciously, Kevin began to open and close his legs, especially when my fingers grazed against his nuts.

Later, as the guy's long dick plunged in and out of the redhead's wet pussy, I almost poured a glass of brandy down Kevin's mouth. I had a knee between his legs, and his arms were draped over the back of the sofa. I tilted his head back and slowly brought the glass to his lips, and when he finally opened his mouth, poured the shit in while my free hand reached over to his chest, finding where his t-shirt protruded. I grasped the material and rolled one of his firm tits through the material. He let me hold the glass, and I wouldn't let him get much air--plus the way my index finger and thumb worked his tit nub, he could hardly focus. I put the glass down, then using one hand to hold him back against the couch, I used my other palm to slide down his chest, to reach into his bulging crotch and grind openly over the wet spot on his jeans where his fat knob drooled lube that had soaked over the top of his briefs.

As the guy in the vid blasted cum over the girl’s tits, and her hands squeezed the fat knob of his spurting prick, I slipped my hands under the edge of Kevin t-shirt. He was so stoned, his head lolling back and his eyes blinking, he hardly noticed as I slid my palm up to the sloping curve of his taut pec, flicking my thumb over and around the rubbery tit cone that thrust up to meet my rough finger. Kevin's eyes screwed tight into a grimace from the sweet sensation, and his hips slid down the couch even more, leaving his ass at the edge, and his fat boner curled full and hard up to the edge of his waistline. I could see how the wide prong tip pushed his jeans away from his stomach, revealing a deep piss well full of sticky pre-sap.

After lifted the glass one more time, and he swilled down the last of the brandy, his head lolled back against the couch, and his eyes closed as if he were asleep--but I knew better. I pulled up his t-shirt to his neck, exposing the hairy chest, and gazed at the brown hair between his pecs and curled around each pink cone. I lowered my lips to lick the first of his taut titties as it thrust up from the mounded pectoral. When my hot salacious tongue and wet lips closed around his teat he groaned for real and lifted his hips in conjunction with the "awwwwww fucccccckkk" that slipped from his lips. Boys and their tits…I had this little fuck meat, and I was going to work him for a whole night for my pleasure. My tongue lashed his suckable nipples, first one rubbery cone then the other, and one hand reached down to grind his boner still trapped in his jeans, trying to keep his hips from getting up too much steam as his sensitive knob scrubbed against the wet denim. Jesus, straight guys look so sexy when they loll their heads back on a fucking sofa, and splay their hands and legs apart so you can turn 'em into the little sex pigs they long to be.

By 12:30 a.m., his arms were secured together over his head and down to one of the legs of the sofa. I got down on the floor between his legs, and reached up with one hand to keep his tits primed, gently pinching and twisting them, while I undid each button of his fly. Each time I rolled a tit, he would raise one of his legs defensively from the intensity of the sensation, and I had to use my other hand to push it down so I could continue opening his jeans. I worked slowly, taking time to rub his dramatically curved hose from root to knob, still trapped in the jeans, with my fingertips. His cock tip--slick and sticky, jutting up past the waist of his briefs, was making a larger and larger wet spot on the coarse blue denim waistband. I scratched my fingernails over and around the knob as he ground his hips to get more get relief for that fat knob that was wider than the rest of the dong. How do they make these little guys with 7" fuck sticks, and fucking huge knobs? The curve of his cock forced the white cotton briefs to bulge obscenely, thrust up and taut in the binding material trying to burst from the partially opened fly.

Once I had his jeans completely unbuttoned, I pushed the jeans down his thick thighs and hairy calves until they tangled at his feet. Now it wasn't easy to lift his legs. So, I reached up and I tickled Kevin’s arm pits one at a time, scratching my nails into the deep, wet pits, tugging at the hairy tufts, and probing the well. He whined and grunted, squealing when I touched the sensitive interiors and raked my fingernails through his thick wool. Then when I made a joint attack on both pits, he howled and raised his ass off the couch, forcing the huge, wet boner up from his stomach where it soon returned with a splat. The next time he lifted his ass from my wriggling fingers in his pits, I quickly slid one hand down between his thighs, and let my index finger slide between his sweaty, hairy buns.

You should have seen those legs, covered in a curly light brown hair, almost a blond fur curling from his crotch band down to his sock tops. I lowered my face to the heavily muscled, thighs and stuck out my tongue to lick the thick hairs just inside his left kneecap. He jumped again, and I had to grasp his thighs and force them down so my lips and tongue could chew and lick up his inner thighs and on the inside of his knees. Each time I suckled the tender skin, his strong hairy thighs snapped together reflexively, and tried to trap my head from going higher. But when I would pluck his tits, the shift in erotic sensation would cause them to splay again, and I could lick a bit further toward his damp, dank balls that hung down to the sofa between his leg---reeking of the starchy sperm that had been collecting for several days.

His thighs continued to try to shut against the ticklish touch of my lips and tongue, but I forced them apart and kept rolling and pinching his tits firmly enough to make him lose his concentration. Each time I twisted them, I was rewarded with a sweet grunt or groan.”Aaaaaagggggghhhh…. Nnnoooo…uuuuuggghhhhhh…” and the same happened when my fingernail scratched across the wide helmet of his rigid prick knob. When I had him hotter than a pistol and still drugged up, I paused to pull off his size eleven walkers and sweat damp socks and pulled his jeans off of one foot. Then I tied one meaty foot to the hidden brackets at the ends of the heavy oversized oak coffee table in front of the sofa and behind me. His feet were pale and strong, covered in veins, and hair sprouted down to ankles and on his toe tops. After I stripped the other shoe and sock, pulled off his jeans and briefs and secured his foot, I had him splayed. Now that he was spread wide, with his hips poised just over the edge of the couch and his back slumped down, I used a firm round pillow bolster to support and lift his back forcing his chest up and out, and to stretch his tight abdominal muscles before me---exposing his deep, hairy navel. With his briefs and jeans off his ankles before I secured his feet, so I would have no obstacles, I was ready to train this future Marine to perform tricks and shoot spunk.

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