Bronson opened his eyes to a big hunky, hairy man standing over him, his heavy cock and balls within easy reach. He knew this was a dream. He knew that this couldn’t be real, because he never had such luck. Being one to never look a gift horse in the mouth, he didn’t think twice before he sat up and took that magnificent piece of meat into his mouth.
A stunned gasp escaped the large man standing over him, followed by a low rumble from deep inside the Marine as he put one hand behind Bronson’s head, pulling him further onto his quickly hardening shaft. Bronson felt the balls jump up, hugging close to the body. He loved to suck dick. He was made for it. There was an intuition deep inside him that told him what worked for the man, what really rang his bell. He was good at it, and he knew it.
When Bronson reached up and fondled the Marine’s hairy balls with his right hand that was all it took. He gripped Bronson’s head, thrust his dick deep and started unloading what felt like months’ worth of pent-up spunk. Gritting his teeth he grunted and his hips thrust, pushing his cum down the throat of the hungry Rudan.
Bronson choked on the first volley of cum that blasted down his throat. That was when he realized this wasn’t a dream, but was real. He was swallowing the load of the hunky Marine from the night before. Locking his lips down around the expanding steel hard shaft, Bronson milked the base of that cum cannon, not wanting to miss one drop of the bitter sweetness.
When the big man’s cock became too sensitive to handle any more of Bronson’s attention, he pushed the head off and away from his hard dick. His balls slowly started to drop, to hang at a more normal level. His breathing was still ragged, but quickly returned to normal. Looking down, his hands still wrapped around Bronson’s head, he leaned close to kiss those reddened lips.
“Fuck that was good,” he said into Bronson’s mouth.
“Hmm mmm.” Bronson sucked the man’s tongue into his mouth, giving that muscle the same treatment he had just given the larger muscle between the man’s legs. “I love your hairy body,” he muffled into the Marine’s mouth.
The Marine ran his big hand down Bronson’s chest, feeling the firm pectoral muscles, then down the trim waist, until he found the hard dick. “I want you,” he growled. “I want to fuck you senseless.”
“Think you can manage that, big man?” Bronson challenged.
The Lieutenant snarled and picked Bronson up from the single bed, only to be brought up short when the whole bed moved. Bronson’s leg was still shackled to the bed. “Fuck,” he grumbled. He set the laughing reporter back on the bed. Snatching up the key from the nightstand, he unlocked the shackle and again picked up the amused Bronson.
He tossed Bronson none too gently on the larger bed, and ripped the boxers off the sprawled man, the sound of the ripping material loud in the mostly quiet room. He threw the ruined shorts onto the floor. It wasn’t seconds later that the t-shirt he had been wearing joined the shorts, in the same ripped condition.
“Is this supposed to be your caveman act there, Marine?” Bronson prodded the hungry bear of a man.
That was the last word Bronson would utter for the next few minutes as the Marine pinned him to the mattress, taking total control of his mouth with his own. Bronson was being crushed by the weight of the man on top of him. In a matter of minutes, he was out of breath. The weight on top of him, not allowing his lungs to fully expand, and his mouth covered and full of the heavy man’s fat tongue, soon had him squirming under the big man.
The Lieutenant let go of Bronson’s mouth, letting him gulp in air. “You ready to shut that smart mouth of yours?” He leered, his face only millimeters from Bronson’s face. “And by the way, it’s Sarge. Just Sarge, you got that?”
Still out of breath, Bronson only nodded.
“Ready to be royally fucked?”
“Yeah,” husked Bronson, the weight still heavy on his body keeping him from getting a full breath.
Sarge reached inside the drawer of the side table and grabbed a bottle of lube. Popping the top open he liberally coated his still hard dick. Pushing Bronson’s legs back, almost doubling him over, he started to lube up the dusky rose colored pucker.
“Easy there cowboy, it’s been a while for me,” Bronson cautioned.
The burly Marine took his time in preparing his bed mate, teasing the tight sphincter muscle, pushing in his fat fingers, one at a time, loosening Bronson up, preparing him for what he could see was a more than average sized cock. Bronson began pushing back, trying to get more inside him.
Pulling Bronson back towards his pulsing dick, Sarge let his legs rest on the broad shoulders. He lined up the purple head of his mushroom headed dick and pushed. Bronson could feel his eyes widen, his mouth forming a perfect ‘O’, his breath hitched. He made no sound. His heavily tattooed arms moved up as he planted his hands on Sarge’s chest, his fingers almost disappearing in the dark, dense hair.
Sarge waited for the sign to proceed, which wasn’t long in coming. Bronson took a deep breath, his mouth closed slowly and then he nodded giving the okay to go on. Slowly, Sarge started rocking back and forth, inching his thick dick into the tight orifice. He pulled out ever so slightly before gently rocking back from his heels, pushing more of himself into the willing reporter. The long entry was excruciatingly slow, teasing both men. In what seemed to take forever, the dense pubic bush surrounding Sarge’s thick prick was mashed against the sensitive skin of Bronson’s rear entrance.
Both men froze, staring intently at each other. This was as intimate as any two beings could be. The intensity sparked between them, raising the body hair on both. Bronson’s chest hair, though not as thick or as dense as Sarge’s, was standing on end, a testimony to the electricity between them.
Slowly, Sarge’s back arched as he withdrew his slickened dick from Bronson’s clutching ass. Both men moaned from the pleasure they were experiencing. Sarge stopped with the inflamed head of his dick barely inside the stretched hole.
“Ahhh, Christ, that feels amazing,” Bronson whispered, directed at no one in particular, but more as a thought that had escaped his mind.
Little by little, Sarge increased the pace, angling, trying different approaches until he hit just the right spot. Bronson threw his head back and pushed his ass as far as he could onto the intruding phallus, moaning in pleasure, his eyes rolling back in his head.
Sarge picked up the speed even more, putting more force into his thrusts. The room reverberated with the slapping of Sarge’s hairy thighs against Bronson’s well-shaped, smooth butt. Sarge would vary the speed from time to time, but Bronson soon became greedy, wanting more, wanting it deeper.
Leaning over, Sarge grabbed Bronson, picking him up, his engorged dick still embedded in his guts. Carrying him, he leaned him up against the wall, holding his legs and started lifting the man up and down on his shaft, thrusting up as he dropped the now babbling man onto him.
At some point, Bronson looked at Sarge, astounded at the strength he had to keep lifting him, then dropping him, impaling him on that rock-hard cock of his. He definitely knew what he was doing. The man was hammering his prostate with practically every plunge into his bowels.
His nuts were rubbing the furry belly of the Marine, driving him crazy. There wasn’t enough friction on his dick to get him off, and he was becoming more and more frustrated, wanting—no,needing —to nut. Bronson grew impatient, his belly sopping wet and shiny with his pre-cum. At that moment, the only thing he could think of was that he desperately needed to cum. That was until Sarge bit him.
That was the turning point. Nothing had ever been so erotic. He knew he was coming. He could feel the hot sticky cum hit his chin before sliding down, meeting the subsequent shots on his torso. The sucking at his neck, the feeling of his life ebbing into the other man was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. There were flashes of Sarge’s life fleeting across his eyelids as though he were watching a movie on fast forward, different scenes of the man’s life being shown to him in the most intimate details.
Bronson could actually feel the dick deep inside him swell and start to discharge another load into him, this time from the other end. He screamed as he started his second orgasm, his balls pulled up so tight that he knew they were going to come flying out of the head of his dick at any moment. Never could he remember coming so hard.
The next thing he knew he was limp, being held in this strong man’s arms, him licking and gently sucking at his neck. Only when he opened his eyes and turned his head did he see the glow in the man’s eyes and the fangs that had fully extended from his mouth, tinged pink with his own blood.
“Holy fuck!” Bronson started kicking his legs and pushing the man—or thing—away from him, using the wall to his back as leverage.
Caught off guard, Sarge stumbled backwards, dropping Bronson hard on his butt on the floor. “What?”
“What the fuck are you?” Bronson screamed, holding his neck where he now knew he had been bitten. He looked at his hand for any trace of blood, but the dark room made it almost impossible for him to see. “You fucking bit me, you mother-fucker!”
“Calm down, Rudan, I can explain.” Sarge held his hands out, palms toward the hysterical man. He stooped down so that he could be at eye level with the poor man.
The door busted open and there stood Burrows, Cates and Aquilar. Burrows took one look at what was going on and turned, pushing past the other two as he left the room.
“Everything okay in here, Sarge?” Cates questioned.
“Fuck no, everything’s not okay,” screamed Bronson. “This man…or thing just bit me! You gotta help me!”
“Oh?” Aquilar’s fangs extended. His eyes took on a reddish-yellow color.
“No, no, no, no, this can’t be real. This can’t be happening,” Bronson stammered as he tried to crawl backward away from all of them, only stopping when he was in the corner and could go no further. “You’re gonna kill me. Fuck!” Bronson tilted his head back and screamed, such anguish in his voice that Sarge cringed.
“Rudan, if you’ll shut the fuck up for a second, I can explain,” Sarge tried again.
“If you’ll just let me go,” Bronson begged, “I swear, I’ll never say a word to anyone. I swear to God, I won’t.”
“Man, if you don’t shut the holy fuck up I might kill you anyway,” Sarge yelled, shutting Bronson up finally. “I have no intention of killing you. Never have.”
Sarge stood over the cowering reporter and offered him his hand. It took several moments before Bronson slowly extended his hand, letting the vampire help him to his feet. When he was upright, standing naked in front of the hairy vampire, he felt cum leaking from his ass and started laughing.
“I think I got this, guys," Sarge said to the two soldiers still standing in the doorway.
He turned back to the reporter, who was still laughing, actually bent over, his hands on his knees. Sarge put his hands on his hips. “What the hell is so fucking funny, Rudan?”
“I’ve got vampire cum leaking outta my ass,” Bronson said. “I’m standing here after one of the best fucks of my life, my ass leaking, and you’re gonna more than likely kill me.” Bronson faced the vampire, his chest heaving from laughing so hard and tears running down his cheeks. “This has got to be a dream.”
“God damn it all to hell,” Sarge cursed, slamming his fist against the wall, actually crumbling some of the concrete, creating a dent. “I’m not gonna fucking kill you, Rudan, get that through your thick skull, would you!”
“You’re gonna let me walk out of here, knowing what I know?”
“Well…not exactly, but it isn’t what you think.” Sarge sighed and shook his head.
“Okay…if you’re gonna suck me dry why don’t you do it while fucking me again?” Bronson snarled. “At least maybe I won’t mind it so much. What better way to go, huh?”
“For the last time…I’m…not…going…to…kill…you!”
“Then what?” Bronson insisted, taking a step towards the hairy Marine vampire. His mouth dropped open and he pointed at Sarge. “Wait a minute…I know you, don’t I?” Bronson took another step closer, the light from the still open door illuminating most of Sarge’s face. “Yeah I do. You were in one of the platoons that I was with in Fallujah, weren’t you?”
“Yeah, what of it?” Sarge barked.
“And now you’re what…some kind of vampire Marine?” Bronson turned, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I just said that. Vampire. Fuck, what a nightmare.”
“Since you’re not going to remember it, yeah, we’re a platoon of vampire Marines,” Sarge growled at him.
Bronson stood up straight, his back stiff as he faced the hairy naked vampire in front of him. “It’s you.” The dots finally all connected. “You’re the cause of the groups of dead Taliban and Al Qaeda. It all makes sense now.”
“Shit,” Sarge grumbled, his head hanging, hands still on his hips. “I knew if anyone would put it all together it would be you. When I bumped into you night-before-last, I knew it was dangerous being in the same city as you.”
“Ya know…” Bronson whispered, “I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”
“Yeah, you should,” Sarge huffed. “You’re one of the best war correspondents out there…unfortunately.”
“Okay…I can keep a secret. I’ve all kinds of sources with secrets.” Bronson Rudan the reporter had finally emerged. “Let me tell this story how you want it told.”
“Man that’s the whole problem in a nut shell, don’t you see?” Sarge said bluntly. “There can’t be any story. This is beyond top secret. This is so hush-hush that even the fucking president of the whole fucking United States of American doesn’t even know! Don’t you get it?”
“Someone somewhere is going to have to say something eventually,” Bronson said. “You can’t go leaving bodies all over Afghanistan without someone noticing!”
“Yeah, well we didn’t expect anyone to start looking for them…or find them so soon,” Sarge gruffed.
“What the fuck did you think was going to happen to all those bodies?” Bronson pushed. “Did you just think they would rot away and nobody’d be the wiser?”
“Well yeah, that was kinda the idea!”
“Honk! Wrong answer there, big guy.” Bronson knew he was being a total wise ass. “A lot of people noticed and now there are a lot of people trying to figure out what happened to them. This whole mess is about to become an international scandal.”
He stared at Sarge. “What would you say if I told you I could possibly help?” Bronson’s mind was already whirling, gears shifting, thinking about how to spin this story. “I can break this story, which, by the way, I’ve already half-way written, and put a spin on it that might just pull your sorry asses from the fire.”
“It isn’t up to me to make those kinds of deals or decisions,” Sarge informed him.
“Okay, then, who?”
“I can’t tell you that!” Sarge looked shocked that he even asked. “You of all people should have figured that much out.”
“I did kinda expect that.” Bronson started to pace. “I’ll tell you what…you take what I said back to whoever it is that is in charge of this fucked-up mess and offer them up my suggestion. Let them make the call.”
Sarge stared at him for a moment, deep in thought. “Listen, Rudan, I’m supposed to erase your memory of everything that you’ve seen, and if I don’t I could catch all kinds of holy hell, but if I hold off and wait to discuss this with someone, do you promise to not go running off?”
“Are you kidding?” Bronson exclaimed. “This could be the biggest story of the year, and you think I’d pass this up?”
“Okay, you got a deal then.” Sarge stook out his hand to shake on it.
“Deal.” Bronson took the big man’s hand. “How about we seal the deal?” He waggled his eyebrows at Sarge.
Hands still firmly grasped, Sarge pulled the hot reporter to him. “After, will you tell me what the hell it is with you and all these tattoos?”
“You fuck me as well as you did earlier, and I’ll tell you just about anything,” Bronson said, his voice already muffled by the mouth covering his.