Corps Takes All E19 | Bootcamp is over, but marines still have needs (Patreon)

Everyone is over the age of 18

------------------------------------------

The crucible is as hard as the drill instructors taunted us it would be. At a certain point between getting covered in mud and rain and sweat, I didn’t even remember being a conscious human being anymore.

We were a bunch of wild animals, clawing and growling our way through the obstacles. Nothing outside of the platoon mattered anymore.

Bootcamp has its own culture, and its way of sucking you into it. I suppose all that is intentional, and that’s why we can’t have phones or a fucking private toilet.

But whenever there was a moment of not worrying about getting yelled at… or my body being so sore that I’m sure I’ve broken something… or what the other recruits were doing… I thought about my life back home.

Waking up whenever I wanted, and ordering my brunch from wherever I wanted. My biggest worry was if it was going to be sunny enough to get a real tan before going on vacation.

During the crucible, there was not a single cell in my body that had a free second to think about that. Every fiber of my being was dedicated to staying alive and moving through the obstacle courses.

Not the fucking shock my family would have about me passing bootcamp as a spoiled homosexual.

Not what these other recruits thought about me. Not what they’ve seen me stumble at here. Certainly not what they’ve heard about me doing.

Not what I thought of my own limits.

I will finish this if it’s the last thing I do.

“FUCK YEAH, WARREN!!!” Hugo roars at me at the finish line. He’s covered in smeared camouflage paint and mud. I wouldn’t have recognized him if he wasn’t a head taller than the surrounding men. “COME ON! DO IT! YEAHH!”

Hands grab me as I stumble past the line and it makes me nauseous how my empty stomach was pressed on.

“LANGFORD! OORAH!” Hugo belts loudly. I press my palm against his head to look over the crowd of men staring back at me.

“OORAH!!!”

My bunkmate, well, former bunkmate, slides me down from his shoulder, and we meet face to face for the first time since this 54-hour ordeal.

“OORAH!!!” The crowd of men chant again as more recruits make it past the line.

“You did it,” Hugo mouths at me. He presses my head into his big chest.

I fucking did it.

It was the best feeling ever.

The graduation process flew by. There were steps and processes for the whole thing, and at this point, we felt like a cohesive machine just getting through it. Seeing the families afterwards felt almost out of place, because of the chaos they brought with their gifts and picture taking.

I’m not going to go into the details of what my family said to me. To be honest, I didn’t really care. I’m sure there were snarky comments about how they thought I’d be helicoptered off the island in the first week. Maybe there were some about how they were proud of me.

I just noticed Hugo standing alone, his head covered by a handsome hat rising above all the commotion.

Once that was all done with, most of the recruits went to the island bar to celebrate. It’s funny, because of all the times I dreamed of jetting back home to live my life again, I was compelled to follow Hugo’s tall stature walking away from the families.

“You come from royalty or something?” Hugo says as I join him at the bar.

“Nah, we wish though,” I say. “They stand out, don’t they?”

“Not more than you,” he says. “Drink with me.” He passes me his beer. “What? You’re scared of sharing a little bit of spit now?”

I snicker, and take a small sip. “No, beer just isn’t my thing.”

“You’re going to have to learn. Nobody here drinking a piña colada.”

“That sounds so fucking good right now, I’m not going to lie. You’d like it too,” I sigh, coughing down more of the vile swill.

“Mmm.” Hugo takes the glass from me and finishes it. “Ah… I think the bar fight is supposed to happen when we’re abroad, gentlemen,” he says as Cooper and Jameson join us.

“Just stopping by to say congratulations.” Cooper extends a full pint glass to Hugo.

“All my respects, Patterson. I wouldn’t have gotten Guide if you didn’t fuck pretty boy’s face up here,” Jameson clinks his glass. Hugo shrugs and accepts the cheers.

“It’s fine. More important things in life.”

“Hey, if I’m pretty boy, what’s Langford then? He was all of our pretty boy,” Cooper says with a wink. “Hey, no disrespect, marine.” He holds his hands up at Hugo. “Bootcamp is over and there’s going to be a line up of ladies looking to make their country proud.”

“Gross,” Jameson and I say together.

“You’re stuck with me, buddy. Bunkmates forever.” Cooper plants a wet kiss on Jameson’s temple.

“Alright, you’ve had enough. No hard feelings, yeah?” Jameson looks first at me, then at Hugo. “We all had to do what we had to do.”

“We had to do Langford’s mouth!” Cooper says giddily. “M fucking V P, recruit.” He ruffles the hair that’s starting to grow back on my head.

I look nervously at Hugo as I lean back, and Hugo shrugs with a small smile.

“We all had to do what we had to do. Now get this fucker out of my face because he won’t be so pretty with another black eye,” the normally stoic marine says with a hint of humour. “Congratulations, assholes.”

When they left, Hugo and I shared a look, and then a giggle.

“So, is this going to be your big secret?” I ask.

“You know, you’re lucky that so many people came to see you,” Hugo says.

“Where was your…” I suddenly realize I know next to nothing about him outside of bootcamp.

“You make enough mistakes in your life and people stop showing up,” the man says gently. “I’ll tell you all about that some other day. You down for the count?”

“I might need to pee before I have any more,” I say. I get off the stool and feel just how much I’ve had. 3 months of not having anything will do something to your tolerance.

“I’m coming. I gotta piss too.” His big hands held my shoulders and steered me away from the bar. Several new marines slapped us on the shoulders as we made our way to the washroom, and then I was guided into a stall.

It’s not a big stall, and Hugo, if I haven’t repeated it enough, isn’t a small guy.

“Don’t tell me you’re too shy to pee in front of me after bootcamp.”

I giggle at the absurdity of that, and take down my pants.

Psssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

“You weren’t kidding, recruit,” Hugo says behind me, and I lean back against his broad chest as I relieve myself.

“I, sir, am a marine now,” I say. My weight is completely supported by his stance, and I reach back to touch the thick thighs that anchor him down.

“You are.” His chin rests on top of my head. Then, his hands caress my stomach. “Warren, I wanted to say thanks.”

“For what?” I move my head slowly, creating pleasant sensations on the top of my head against his jaw.

“You know I’m not good with words,” he says. His lips tickle my nearly bare scalp, and I lean forward. His kisses travel along a straight line until they’re at my neck.

I grope along his thigh, until I reach the large package that I crave.

“Thanks for letting me… be me,” Hugo whispers against my neck. He pulls his pants down, and I wrap my hand around his enormous cock, which had become moist in its cotton prison. It unfurls in my grip and I encourage it to stiffen by stroking it behind my back. “And I’m sorry… for being me.”

“Ahhh…” I sigh as I press his wet tip against my hole. It feels just as big as always.

“You forgive me right?” He lets me handle the penetration, and his palm covers my throat in a gentle grip. “Fuck, Warren.” My hole lets his tip in.

“You didn’t have to steal my lunch. I would’ve given it to you,” I say with a giggle. Awkwardly, I try to step out of my boots. I succeed in getting one off, and Hugo lifts my leg from behind the knee. “OhHHHHHhHHH…”

His meat slides in me, and I feel him flex it to full stiffness.

“Do it,” I moan, letting go of his base and hanging onto the stall walls. “Do it!”

Fucking… hell… Jesus… motherfucker….

I will never get used to how big he is. It’s impossible.

“Oh my god, Warren…” Hugo nibbles on my ear. “How do you do that?” I feel his cock flex again, and it flattens my prostate. “So do you forgive me?”

“Sir, yes sir,” I massage his massive forearm. “Permission to get fucked until I cum, sir.”

“Permission granted, marine.”