A SANDY ROMP Title: A SANDY ROMP
Author: Randi Leer
Summary: Plot? You want plot? You might want to skip ahead. If you're looking for hot sex, though, you're in the right place.
Note: Originally printed in FLANKING MANEUVERS 4. Inspired by "A Romp In The Sand" by Siren in FLANKING MANEUVERS #1.
Troy shifted restlessly in the sandy hollow of his bed. Moffitt was asleep an arm's length away; Hitch and Tully were bedded down on the other side of the dune with the jeeps; and the American sergeant was having a hard time settling down to sleep.
It wasn't often that the Rat Patrol dispensed with guard duty, but they were nearly a hundred miles behind Allied lines, and the odds of any infiltrating patrol blundering across their position in all the broad expanse of the desert were astronomical.
Troy shifted around some more, then with an internal groan of frustration, he decided to stoke the small fire and fix a cup of coffee. If he was going to be up, he might as well be well and truly up. He was reaching for the coffee pot when his sharply-tuned hearing picked up the soft murmurs of talk from the drivers on the other side of the dune. There didn't seem to be any air of distress; in fact, he thought he heard an occasional soft chuckle.
Hitch and Tully were young, but they were also battle-hardened professionals. It surprised their leader that they were wasting sleeptime and being carelessly audible at the very peak of the desert's quiet hours, when sound traveled the farthest with the least provocation.
Shaking his head, Troy started up the side of the dune, intending to give the young men a brief but thorough reaming for their carelessness. He was nearly at the crest when he heard what sounded like a cry of pain; his pulse quickened, and caution dropped him to his knees.
Had the drivers been attacked by a silent enemy? The desert Arabs were notorious for their ability to sneak up unseen and unheard, and to do a tremendous amount of damage before being discovered.
Hearing a groan, Troy pulled his weapon and cautiously moved closer to the top of the dune. He wondered, just for a moment, if he should alert Moffitt; then he decided that the Englishman would be involved soon enough if they were under attack.
He was at the top of the dune now, and carefully eased himself over the ridge to look down at the jeeps. His gun was cocked, ready for action, but first he had to figure out what was going on.
The next muffled cry let him locate his two men; they were on the other side of the jeeps and were clearly involved in some kind of struggle. He shifted slightly to get positioned for a better view, and it took all his military training not to stand up and shout in shock.
It was a struggle, all right, but not the kind he had expected. Hitch and Tully were struggling to stay quiet and not being particularly successful. The young New Yorker was splayed on the camouflage net, naked body glistening with sweat, and the Kentuckian used the fingers of one hand to plunder his anus while the other pumped the kid's straining cock.
Hitch's eyes were glazed with a combination of pleasure and pain as he responded to the steady stimulation. As Troy watched, Hitch managed to pull his upper body closer to Tully and took the Kentuckian's rigid penis in his mouth.
Tully arched with a muffled shout and pulled his fingers free, then bent to return the favor, burying his face in the younger man's groin. The men shared rhythm, hands and mouths working one another's erections as their hips thrust eagerly with growing impatience.
The stunned sergeant slid back down into the gravelly sand, keeping his head down but maintaining a view as he fought to reconcile what he was seeing with what he knew about his young drivers. He would never have believed it if he wasn't seeing it with his own eyes, and even seeing it wasn't making it any easier to believe.
"What is it?" Moffitt hissed at his elbow, making Troy jump with alarm. He hadn't heard the Englishman get up, much less approach him atop the dune.
"There," he muttered through gritted teeth, jerking his head towards the sight in the hollow.
Moffitt pulled himself to the crest and observed for a moment, then turned to Troy, eyes wide. "I say," he stammered, "how long has this been going on?"
"Got me," Troy snapped, then shook his head apologetically. With a shrug he pulled himself up beside Moffitt and both men settled in to observe the grand finale.
Hitchcock's movements had become more urgent, and he was unable to keep up his end of the activity for Tully's benefit. When he dropped away from Tully's groin, the tall Kentuckian carefully caught the youth's hips and firmly planted his buttocks against the camouflage net, all the while sucking firmly at the swollen cock that waved in front of his nose.
When Hitch began thrashing in the prelude to orgasm, Tully let go of his cock, flipped him quickly onto his side, drew one of the youth's long legs up to his chest, and carefully positioned his jutting cock against the younger man's hole. He bent to lightly tongue an ear as he drove into the willing body with a single strong thrust, while simultaneously clamping one hand over Hitch's open mouth to muffle his sharp cries as orgasm built to the critical point.
Watching the two men thrusting in unison, and hearing the occasional bleat of pleasure when Tully's hand slipped, drove Troy beyond his limits. He had been celibate for too long, between the need to set an example for his men and the simple lack of time when debriefing took nearly all the R&R time between missions.
He stopped watching long enough to roll onto his back, Moffitt's presence forgotten, quickly unfastening desert khakis and pulling his throbbing organ out for some much needed attention. The tip was already leaking when he began fisting himself, and Troy brought his other hand up to roll his palm carefully over the purple head, spreading pre-cum and slicking down the hard cock for some major handwork.
Then he turned back to watch the two younger men, matching his pumping fist to Tully's hungry fucking, groaning as Hitch sobbed with pleasure and began frantically yanking at his own cock. He was so damn close...
A muffled sound at his side led Troy to slide his eyes sideways, where he caught sight of Moffitt's sweaty face. The Englishman was no less affected than he was, Troy realized, and he was within easy reach. He tapped Moffitt's arm lightly, raising his brown eyes questioningly when the other man turned, and sighed with relief at the affirmative nod.
He helped Moffitt yank his ever-neat shirttails out of his khakis, and dropped his hand to fondle the cock quaking against the other man's belly. Moffitt groaned softly and reached for Troy's waist, firmly pulling the American against himself and surrendering to the need to thrust against the willing body.
It was maddening, being torn between concentrating on self-pleasuring and the need to watch the other two men, to see what was transpiring in what was obviously a mutually satisfactory sexual relationship.
Troy and Moffitt squirmed around together until both could enjoy the feel of now-naked flesh against supersensitized erections, simultaneously watching Tully's deep regular thrusts as he and Hitch surrendered completely and came. Tully grunted as Hitch keened and splayed his legs in a display of flushed genitals, sweaty balls bouncing against Tully's, as the other man kept up a steady rhythm of thrusting deep into the clutching ass.
They peaked nearly together, first Tully filling Hitch with hot cream, then Hitch thrashing and shaking in Tully's arms, with ribbons of come spiraling across them both, before he quieted and went limp against the older man.
"Oh, Gawd," Troy groaned against Moffitt' s neck, bearing down and shaking with release. The Englishman matched him, pulse for pulse, and they too quieted in the breathless darkness.
Once their breathing had gone from desperate gasps to the relative calm of wheezing, the two sergeants parted stickily and lay back to stare up at the night sky.
Eventually Moffitt lifted himself on one elbow and looked down at Troy. The silence between them was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, but held the promise of reeling easily into either dimension.
"So," he observed casually, "is this what all those military manuals refer to as 'consorting'?" A wickedly-arched eyebrow accompanied the question.
Troy goggled at his second, then burst into laughter. "Nah, but it would be if Dietrich was in on the party!"
Both men flopped back comfortably in the sand and howled with laughter. The night had held some unexpected surprises, but some things were just completely beyond the realm of possibility!
THE END
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