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FORT WANKINOFF

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 07 Nov 2000 1 comments
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by Larry T There were a lot of things I hated about Army Basic Training, but the thing I hated most was not having any privacy for jacking off. Masturbating openly could get you in plenty of hot water. Forget about jacking off with a group of guys unless you were looking for a way out of the Army; circle-jerks were considered gay behavior. Solo masturbation was tolerated, providing it was done discreetly. At home, I had jacked off two or three times a day. After three or four days in Boot Camp without the freedom to jack off whenever I felt the need, my balls were so full of sap that I thought they would burst. So it was mandatory that I figure out ways to get my rocks off. I learned to take care of my business under the blankets at night. Late-night guard duty in a secluded area was also an excellent opportunity to pop a load or two. The base Rec Hall was extremely popular because, unlike the barracks, it had stalls with doors in the mens' room. It wasn't easy to find an empty one, though. Well that is how it was and probably still is, but this is how it should be: Sunrise at Fort Wankinoff. A bugle blaring from loudspeakers jars the recruits from their restless sleep. As they tumble from their bunks, enough morning wood is on display to build a house. The men want desperately to scratch the itch in their cocks, but they must resist the urge because jacking cock is strictly forbidden. As they hurriedly shave and shower, their cocks mercifully soften. After making their bunks, the men hurry to the drill field for roll call and calisthenics. At precisely six-thirty, eight-hundred men are lined up in perfect ranks awaiting the arrival of Master Sergeant Asskicker, the senior NCO. Assuming his smartest military posture, he strides onto the stage to address the men. After the drill sergeants have reported "all present and accounted for", the Master Sergeant, choosing his words carefully, begins to speak. "You men have been here for several weeks now without attaining any sexual relief. As you well know, masturbation is forbidden in the Army. Jacking off is for weaklings." This opinion is contrary to Asskicker's own behavior. He jacks off every chance he gets. "I have just received this message from Headquarters," he says, holding up the paper in his hand. "It is now my duty to tell you what this message contains and to immediately put this new policy into effect." "Research conducted by the Surgeon General has revealed that men who achieve frequent sexual relief are more efficient and more healthy than men who are sexually deprived. Therefore, all single men will be required to masturbate at least once a day. This will be optional for married men living with their wives. Jacking off will be permitted in all latrines, showers and bunks. You will NOT jack each other off. You will jack off only when you are off-duty. Officers and enlisted men will not jack off in each other's presence." By this time, Master Sergeant Asskicker, who knows what is coming next, is having a very hard time concealing the huge bulge in his crotch. Trying to seem casual, he covers it with the message he has been paraphrasing. Then he reconsiders. "What the fuck, they are going to see it anyway," he thinks. "On my command, you will unzip your flies. On my next command, you will remove your cocks, er..penises from your trousers. Then you will remove your nuts, er..testicles from your trousers. On my final command, you will frig your cock until the semen spurts out. I expect every man to do his duty." "ZIPPER DOWN!" Asskicker shouts. More than eight-hundred zippers, including his own, slide down. "COCKS OUT!" More than eight-hundred peckers, including Asskicker's own enormous horse-cock, are on display in the morning sunshine. "NUTS OUT!" More than eight-hundred bloated blue-balls (try saying that real fast ten times) dangle below the swollen cocks. "FRIG IT" And on that command, more than eight-hundred hands grab cocks and begin to jack them. Every single man on that drill field is jacking his cock. All of the Drill Sergeants, although exempt because they are married, decide to set a good example for their men, and are jacking as hard as anyone else. In the same manner that he directs calisthenics every morning, Master Sergeant Asskicker is pounding his humungous dick in full view of his men, who pump theirs at the same tempo. "Damn, this feels pretty fucking good," he thinks. "Sure beats doing it alone." Within seconds, there is a soft moan as someone's load spurts onto the grass. Another moan quickly follows, then another and another. Soon the moans and groans overlap and blend together in a chorus. "They sound like a bunch of chanting Gregorian monks," Asskicker observes. Hundreds of men are shooting their loads simultaneously. It is the greatest group jack-off of all time! And it is being duplicated at American military bases around the world! Little by little, the moans die down and Asskicker observes far fewer rapid arm movements in the ranks. Twice the age of most of the men facing him, he has to polish his gun a little longer to make it shoot. "I'll show these boots how a real man cums," he thinks. Sticking out his fat belly, he shoots a load that any man would be proud of. So much pressure had built up in his balls that the spunk flies off the stage and lands on the grass. "Damn, that was fucking good," Asskicker thinks, as he carefully coaxes out every last drop. "Company Commanders, inspect your men," Asskicker orders. The drill instructors walk up and down the ranks, checking to ensure that every dick has been drained. By the time they are ready to report, most have gone soft. Nevertheless, every cock is still hanging out as the men await orders to put them back in their pants. In the Army, when you are in ranks, you don't do anything without an order. "Company Commanders report!" Asskicker bellows. "Company A reports that all have successfully ejaculated, Master Sergeant." By the time the last report is given, every cock has gone soft. "BALLS IN!" Asskicker shouts. The drained balls go back in the pants. "COCKS IN!" The men put their contented peters back in their pants. "ZIPPER UP!" The men, all with contented smiles on their faces, zip up. "From now on, this will be considered a calisthenic and will be performed every Friday," Master Sergeant Asskicker says. The men have to struggle to hold back their cheers. "DISMISSED!" All through breakfast, the men can't stop talking about the new wanking policy. Most of them are thinking, "Maybe the Army isn't so fucking bad after all." After that, the semen flows freely down urinals, toilets and showers drains. For once, it is possible to get a stall in the latrine at the Rec Hall without standing in line. Although officers and enlisted are forbidden from jacking off in each other's presence, the officers' wives find ingenious ways to sneak down to the drill field to observe the Friday "cock calisthenics". The sight of all of those young studs jacking off inflames their lust, driving them to place great sexual demands on their husbands. Everyone is happy! For once, the recruits are able to concentrate on their training without constantly being distracted by thoughts of pussy. Morale is high. Readiness for combat has never been better. There is a smile on every face. Our enemies are forced to revise their battle plans. It gets even better! Summer arrives and the men are ordered to report for calisthenics wearing only their olive drab shorts. Master Sergeant Asskicker adds a new command to his repertoire. "DROP SHORTS!" he bellows. More than eight-hundred healthy, physically fit young men stand naked before Asskicker, beating their meat. The sight makes Asskicker's dick as hard as a club. "Oh, fuck, I must have a streak of gay in me," he thinks. The officer's wives spying with binoculars from nearby buildings are so aroused by the spectacle that they have to give each other's pussies emergency first aid with their tongues. When graduation day arrives, the grass on the drill field, once brown and withered, is as green and healthy as the grass found on any top-notch golf course, thanks to thousands of applications of sperm fertilizer. As the smiling men pass in review, every one, including Master Sergeant Asskicker, has a hard-on!