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Don’t ask, don’t tell is pretty much out the fuckin’ window when you get caught with your BDUs around your damn ankles and your cock up a random guy’s ass. That’s what I get for drinking too much and letting my libido take over.
“Fuck me! Is that Grissom?” an inebriated voice yelled from the front of the alley.
“Don’t say that too close to him, or he might take you up on it.” His buddy snickered.
I pulled my dick out of the man, dropped the condom to the ground and managed to tell the guy—never did get his name—to run. Turning, I faced my ‘friends’.
It had been pretty dark in the alley, but I had recognised Shank’s voice and probably Harp’s too. Just what I needed, two of the worst homophobes in the company to catch me with my pants down.
“Don’t want no trouble. I’ll just go home now.” I had tried to be reasonable, not the easiest task with my drunk on, not to mention my deflating hard on. Talk about ruining a good time.
“What’s wrong, pussy boy? Scared?” That was Harp, the ringleader of this little band of merry men. No, that wasn’t right. If that were the case I’d be in like Flynn. Humour really wasn’t the response I should have had, but there are things you just have to laugh at.
“It’d take more than your punk ass to scare me.” Also not the best response to a sticky situation, but I didn’t give a flying fuck at that point. I was still fucking horny as hell and the sun would be up soon. I knew I should have headed farther away from the base. Fuck my life.
“Is that so? I guess we’ll see about that.” Shank had edged closer.
Keeping an eye on the guys I had pulled my pants up and tucked myself in. If I was going to fight, no way was it happening with my dick out. And no way was I running. I could take on three guys. No problem. Did I say I was drunk? Shit. This was going to hurt.
The men surrounded me. I threw the first punch, not sure where it landed. That was the only defence I was allowed.