by Samson Velos
The housing for Aerographer Mates (AG’s) assigned to Fleet Weather Central was at the Guam Naval Station, about 8 miles from the weather central headquarters on Nimitz Hill. The AG’s occupied the second floor of one of the two-storey barracks, right across from the EM club. The first floor was occupied by a contingent of South Vietnamese sailors. They spoke little English, we spoke no Vietnamese and we really had no idea why they were there or what they were supposed to be doing. They pretty much stuck to themselves and, despite the proximity to the EM club, we never saw them there.
One afternoon, when I was standing fire watch, the mail came in. I began sorting it out and came across a small package that had obviously been intended for the guys downstairs. It had a bunch of Vietnamese words or names on it. I kept it, thinking I’d deliver it to them when I was relieved by Hutchinson. When Hutchinson came on duty I grabbed the package and took it back to my bunk. Then I showered and changed in order to head over to the EM club. Before I left I picked up the package so I could drop it off on my way.
The exterior stairway took me to the entrance to the Vietnamese barracks. I stepped onto a small porch and then into the entrance vestibule. It was dusk and because there was no overhead lighting, the building was cast in shadows. I stepped inside and at first it seemed like it was empty. But then I noticed four figures about 20 feet down the aisle between the cubicles and started to walk toward them. Before I had taken one or two steps I stopped. The four guys standing in the aisle had no clothes on and it looked like one of them was fucking another one. The guy getting fucked was bent over a writing table they had pulled into the aisle, his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands. The two other guys were facing each other, each one leaning against a cubicle wall, and seemed to be carrying on a quiet, casual conversation. One of them had about a 3/4 erection and the other guy was soft.
Surprised, I had an instinct to turn away and come back later. But the sight was also compelling. Compulsion won out, so I lingered and watched for a while.
The guy with the semi hard-on would occasionally stroke it lightly as he talked to his buddy. I noticed his pubic hair was straight and stuck out awkwardly. His dick seemed average size, which was curious to me because I’d heard that Asian guys had little penises. It was kind of skinny, though. Maybe that made it seem longer than what it really was. Every now and then he’d reach across the aisle and squeeze his buddy’s dick a little bit or pinch one of his nipples. Other than some pubic hair neither one of them had very much body hair at all that was visible in the dimly lit barracks. All four were not skinny, but they were slender.
As my eyes adjusted to the encroaching twilight I could see that the guy leaning over the writing table wasn’t really getting fucked. The other guy had his dick between his buddy’s thighs and I could see his dick head poking out and then retreating as he pumped. They, too, seemed to be talking quietly and casually as the top frigged – in and out, in and out.
At this point the guy standing up with the semi boner noticed me. I flinched and started to turn away, but he waved me in. I stopped and looked at him and he waved again, so I approached him. I didn’t really know what to do. The two guys at the table didn’t really pay any attention, they just kept frigging, and there I was standing in front of a naked Vietnamese sailor with his semi boner, so I handed him the package. He looked at it, said something to his buddy, and placed it on the floor.
“You want play?” he asked. I tilted my head, as if to ask for clarification. “This Friday. We play Friday. You want play?” Thoughts went through my head. I hadn’t done anything sexual since Clayton jerked me off at “A” school. “I like see dick,” he continued. “American have big dick. I like see American dick, OK?”
These guys were so casual, it reminded me a little of the jerk off session I had with Harrison back in Lemoore. I was wishing I could be a little more relaxed about this stuff, too. In a flash, I thought “what the hell.” I nodded and started unbuttoning my shirt.
The guys at the table slowed down their frigging and started watching me. By the time all my clothes were off all four had gathered around me. They were looking at my dick, pointing at it and talking in Vietnamese. The guy who asked if I wanted to play seemed to be the only one who knew any English. He pointed to my dick. “Touch?” he asked. I gave him a terse, shallow nod. He said something to his buddies and they all stepped a little closer. Soon enough there were 8 hands on me. There was one guy in back, stroking and squeezing my ass, one on each side stroking my chest and the sides of my thighs, and the English speaking guy in front fondling my balls. They all had that straight pubic hair and, now that I was closer, I could see that they each had some hair on their calves. But no whiskers on their faces or hair on any other part of their body. They were also the same height as each other. Each one was about a foot shorter than me, so as 8 hands were stroking and fondling me I could look down and see the tops of their heads.
The guy in back moved in a little closer. I could feel the head of his dick poking my butt cheeks, but he didn’t try to butt fuck me. The guy in front of me pulled a chair out of the nearest cubicle and sat in front of my dick and started working it with both hands. It didn’t take me long to get hard. He kept using his hands and wasn’t sucking me, but every now and then he would swirl his tongue around the head of my dick.
At this point I was starting to want to join in the action, so I grabbed the dicks of each of the guys on my side and starting squeezing them. They smiled and chattered their approval and kept stroking my chest and my belly. I started moaning a little and they all got kind of excited, chattering to each other. The English speaking guy asked me, “You want come? You want come now?” I grunted and nodded.
Now they all moved in and squeezed their bodies up against mine, the guy in front of me standing up. I felt four hard dicks squirming into me on every side. The guy in front increased the pace of his strokes. He was going up and down, he was twisting, sometimes he’d circle his thumb and index finger just under the head of my dick and give a few short, furious strokes. The guy behind me put his left arm around my chest then started humping my butt cheek – not into my crack, just into the flesh of my cheek. I heard him start taking shorter, heavier breaths. “Shit,” I thought. “He’s going to cum on me!” That kind of grossed me out. I’d never had anybody’s cum on me. But I was also going crazy from the handjob I was getting. All I could do was continue. Finally, I was pumping the English speaking guy’s hand and the guy behind me was pumping into my butt cheek. We were both moaning. I lost track of what was going on with the guys beside me. The guy behind me started making some short “hmmuh! hmmuh!” sounds. I could only groan long and low…”Eeeeeeeaw”…as my dick made love to the fingers clasped around it.
Our duet continued.
Then, “Uh! uh! uh!” from the guy behind me, with a thrust accompanyingn each vocalization and I felt his cum on my ass. I came, too.
Cum on my ass, cum all over my dick, cum on the guy’s hand. Then, before letting go, he moved into me and rubbed my cum covered dick all over his belly.
Out of nowhere the guy on my left handed me a small towel which I used to clean myself off. “My name Trang,” said the English speaking guy. “You come back? We play Friday.”
I didn’t know where the rest of their unit went on Fridays, but it sounded like these four took advantage of their absence.
“Maybe I come back,” I said. And maybe I would, I thought.
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