Don't as Don't Tell

'You are hereby requested to report to the United States Army Induction Center at 122 Peabody Street, Scarsborough, New Hampshire at 8:30 a.m. on Wednesday the 19th of September.'

I held the letter in my hand and stared at it uncomprehendingly. They had just recently reinstated the draft, and now they were drafting me. If I passed the physical, (and why wouldn't I?) I would be going into the army. Horrible thought.

The envelope dropped from my fingers onto the floor without my even noticing. I sat down heavily on the couch and stared over and over at the awful sheet of paper. I had never even considered that this type of thing could happen to me. The army was a place for farm kids. For factory kids. For high-school dropouts who wanted to continue their education.

I was a college graduate with a top job in advertising. I didn't want to lose my job. I had fought hard to get it and I wasn't going to let the army take me away from it. Oh God. Where was Hilda? She was usually home before me. She was the one who usually picked up the mail. But today I had picked up the mail. I had picked up the letter from the United States Army.

I heard the key in the door. It was Hilda. She looked at my face and knew right away something was up. "What's wrong?" she asked.

She approached the couch, and I held out the letter. She took it and read it. "Oh, Warren. Oh, no." We had been planning to get married in the near future. She had been selecting china patterns in the Tiffany catalogue. All that would be now on hold. "What are we going to do?" she asked.

"What I'm going to do is report for my army physical next Wednesday," I answered. We ate a quiet dinner, watched a little television and went to bed. We did not have sex. We definitely did not have sex. I was in no mood for sex. Not that night, or the next night or the night after. All I could think about was my physical. It haunted me.

On Wednesday the 19th of September I got up at six a.m., got dressed in the dark, trying not to disturb Hilda, had a light breakfast, and drove down to 122 Peabody Street. The Induction Center. There were a lot of young guys going in the front door, as well as a number of snappily uniformed military types.

I entered the building and stood in the large front hall, looking around me.

"Excuse me. Do you know where to go for the physical examination?" asked a young fellow about my own age.

"No, I don't. I have to go there too."

"You got a notice in the mail?" he asked.

"Yes," I admitted.

"Me too. You can't begin to imagine how thrilled I am," he said ironically.

"So am I," I said. "Warren Cobb," I added, introducing myself and stretching out my right hand.

"Doug Haney," he said. And we shook hands. After that we tried to read the building directory without much success. We stopped a soldier, showed him our letters, and asked him where we had to report.

"I'm going over there. Follow me," he said.

He was Sergeant Carl Merrill, according to his nametag, a compact, solid, muscular man. He marched with military crispness, leading us to the third floor medical department. "Sign in at the desk," he directed us, and walked away.

We were with about thirty other prospective inductees, and we were directed to a bank of lockers and told to strip to our shorts. We kept the locker keys around our wrists.

An army lieutenant, Lieutenant Edgar Driggs, according to his nametag, marshaled us into a large room where attendants were taking blood and urine.

"I drank three gallons of orange juice yesterday," Doug Haney whispered to me. "They say if you drink a lot of orange juice your albumin level goes way up and maybe they won't take you."

"I wouldn't count on that," I advised him.

"Yeah," he nodded his head, agreeing sadly. "Boot camp, here I come."

"I don't want to go either," I said. "But there's no way out of this. I hear they're taking everybody. A skinny friend of mine who was underweight told me they added twenty pounds to his weight on his chart, and marked him with a medium-heavy build. They took him."

"Isn't there anything we can do?" Doug whined pleadingly.

"I don't think so. If you're breathing, you're in."

"Great," he lamented. "Maybe we could say we're gay. You know. 'Don't Ask. Don't Tell'. They definitely won't take you if you're gay."

The army had a policy of 'Don't Ask. Don't Tell.' Meaning if you told them you were gay they would kick you out, but they weren't supposed to ask if you were gay. But they did ask. And they even conducted witch-hunts to ferret out any gay military man whom they promptly discharged. (They claimed that homosexuals were bad for unit cohesion. And besides it was creepy having these sexual predators in the same barracks with the straight normal guys who would even have to shower with them. Ugghh.) That was 'Don't Ask. Don't Tell.' And Doug was proposing telling.

I thought for a minute. "You know, that's a damned good idea. I think I'm going to try that. I'm going to say I'm gay."

"You are?" He was amazed. "I don't think I'd have the guts." It had been his idea to begin with and now he was backing down.

"It's easy," I said. "You just tell them you're gay. Tell them you suck cock. I'm going to do it." I raised my hand until Lieutenant Driggs noticed me.

"Yes? What is it?" he asked me.

"Sir. Can I speak to you a moment?"

"What is it?" he asked again brusquely.

"I need to tell you something privately," I explained, nodding my head to an empty part of the room. We walked over to it.

"Yes?" He asked again. "What's on your mind?"

"I have something to confess, sir," I said ashamedly, hanging my head. "I'm gay."

"I didn't hear you, son," he was speaking very loudly. "There's a lot of noise in here. You'll have to speak up."

He had heard me. If I spoke any louder the whole room would hear. I didn't know what to do. Finally, I raised my voice, but not quite enough to blast through the room. "I'm gay, sir," I repeated.

"You know there's so much noise in this room, I still couldn't hear what you said. Why don't you sit down, son. You're going to get your eyes and ears examined now."

Maybe he was the one who needed his ears examined. He couldn't hear me? Bullshit. It seemed that they weren't going to let me out for being queer, which I really wasn't. But so much for 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell'. I returned to my seat next to Doug.

"What happened?" he asked me.

"They're either not buying it or they don't care. The bastard kept pretending he couldn't hear what I was saying.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed. "They're shameless."

"Even if he had acknowledged hearing me, he might not have believed me. I have a feeling he would have told me to prove it."

"Well, why don't we?"

"Why don't we what?" I asked, not understanding him.

"Prove it."

"And how do we do that?" I asked, thinking the guy was a little bit of a head case.

"Let's both say we have to go to the bathroom,"

"Yes?" I asked, waiting for further explanation.

"Just let's do it." He raised his hand and caught the lieutenant's eye. The lieutenant came over.

"Yes?"

"Excuse me, sir," said Doug. "I need to go to the bathroom real bad. Can you please tell me where the men's room is?"

"Down the hall, on the right hand side," he said pointing. "But make it snappy."

"Yes, sir," said Doug, jumping up and walking toward the men's room. He turned his head and winked at me.

"Excuse me, sir, I have to go too," I said, clutching my front as if I couldn't hold it.

"Okay. But hurry up," he said. I jumped up and followed Doug down the hall. As I entered the hall, I saw the strong compact Sergeant there. Sergeant Merrill. I nodded to him, and he nodded to me. I continued down the hall and followed Doug into the gentleman's lounge.

We stood there in our jockey shorts, looking at each other, not knowing what to do next.

"Now what?" I asked.

"We have to do something," he said.

"Like what?"

"Something gay. We have to get caught. If they won't listen when we tell them we're gay, they'll have to believe their own eyes. They'll kick us right out."

"You think so?" I asked. It was an appealing idea.

"Absolutely," he answered, nodding his head firmly. "In a little while they'll send someone in to look for us, and if we're discovered in flagrante delicto......."

"Right," I said. It was a damned good idea. I could keep my job. I could keep my girl. I wouldn't have to live with a bunch of rednecks for two years. It was a great idea. "What do we do?" I asked.

"Something gay," he explained, in exasperation, as if he were talking to an idiot.

"I've never done anything gay," I explained.

"Well, neither have I," he answered. "Do you want to get drafted?"

"No."

"Then we have to do something gay. Like maybe suck cock. We have to get caught sucking cock."

"Oh," I breathed, realizing what would have to be done. "Okay. You want to suck me?" I offered.

"How about you sucking me," he challenged. We were getting nowhere fast.

"I don't know," I stalled.

"Maybe we'd better just suck each other. You know. Sixty-nine."

"Yeah, well maybe we could do that," I considered.

"Okay. Let's go," he said.

We both just stood there and looked at each other.

"How do we do this?" I asked.

He sighed at my stupidity, and slipped off his underpants. "Take off your shorts," he said.

I pushed them down my legs and stepped out of them.

"We're going to have to lie down on the floor," he reasoned.

I looked down at the white tile floor. I did not want to lie down on it.

"Come on," he prompted and sat down on the floor.

I sat down facing him. "Now what?"

"We have to lie down facing each other head to foot, with our heads at cock level," he clarified.

We both lay down on the cold hard floor and pointed our limp dicks toward each other's mouths. He tentatively began to kiss my dick. He took it in his hand and held it as he kissed it, and then he began to lick it up the shaft a little. I followed his lead and did the same for him. Then he began to kiss and lick the head of my cock, rubbing it around on his cheek a little. I followed his lead. I felt his dick getting hard in my hand, against my cheek, against my lips. It was pretty big and pretty hard now, and it was a little exciting. I felt my own dick getting hard in his hand, against his cheek, against his lips, against his tongue.

"Let's do it," he said.

"Do what?" I asked stupidly.

"Put it in your mouth and suck on it," he explained in exasperation, as if to a child. "We'll do it at the same time, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed.

"Okay. One. Two. Three. Go." He whomped down on my cock, and I whomped down on his. We were sucking each other's dicks. And it was okay. It was kind of nice. I started appreciating it, savoring it. He was getting into it too. I took it out of my mouth for a second so I could stare at it, admire it. Then I whomped back down. I wrapped my arms around his middle and pressed on his ass, urging him to feed it further in toward the back of my throat. We were each making lascivious wet slurping sound.

"How long do we do this?" I asked.

"Till someone comes in and catches us," he explained. "But you'd better not come in my mouth, you hear?"

"I hear," I said. But now that he mentioned it, I was feeling a little bit ejaculatory. I wouldn't mind shooting out a hot load. I hadn't fucked Hilda in the last week, worrying about the physical, and I needed to unload my balls. I was also starting to wonder what it would be like if his hard hot dick started spurting out thick white cream into my own mouth. What would that taste like? It was kind of a sexy idea. My cock started getting even stiffer in his Jacuzzi mouth.

All of a sudden it happened. The door opened. And it was a soldier. Not another draftee. Not a lab tech. Not a doctor. A soldier. I took my mouth off his cock for a second and turned my head back. It was that compact, solid, muscular sergeant. Sergeant Carl Merrill. I turned my face back and swallowed Doug's cock again.

"Well. Well. Well. What have we here?" he asked, coming into the room and closing the door behind him. "It looks like we have a couple of cocksucking faggots."

Neither of us answered. We just kept sucking cock.

"I said, 'It looks like we have a couple of cocksucking faggots,' don't we?" He asked again, and kicked me lightly on my butt.

"Yes, sir," I said. "You caught us. We're queer. If you would just mark that on our papers, we'll go home. We're sorry we bothered you."

"Not so fast," he said. "So you're ready to go home. Ah ha." He studied the situation and smiled. "I'm not convinced you're really queer. You could be putting on an act to get out of the military."

"Oh, no, sir. We would never do that. We're really queer," Doug asserted.

"Keep sucking," he ordered.

"What?" I asked in consternation.

"You heard me. Keep sucking. I want to watch you suck each other."

He stood there smiling over my naked body, waiting for me to put Doug's cock back in my mouth. So I did. And Doug swallowed mine again. Even with the sergeant watching us, we were both getting into it. It felt really good. A hot sucking mouth on my dick. The sergeant walked around us, studying us from all angles, and began playing with the large bulge in his army pants. Pressing it, and rubbing it. He began to walk away. I tried to watch what he was doing. He went into a closet and came out with a two-sided stand-up sign. 'Closed for Repairs' it said. He opened the men's room door and stood the sign in front of it. Then he closed the door and turned the latch. It was locked. He walked back toward us. "Keep sucking," he commanded. We kept sucking.

Now he was playing with himself a lot. He drew down his zipper and reached inside. He drew out a big red mean-looking sergeant dick. It was so stiff and hard he had trouble getting it through his zipper. He stood right behind me and gave me a light kick on my naked ass. "Get up here and suck my cock, faggot," he ordered.

"Excuse me?" I asked. I was appalled.

"You heard me, faggot. Get up here and suck this dick. If you're really queer, that is."

I had to prove to him I was really queer. I got up on my knees, so that my mouth was pretty much at the same height as his groin. I wrapped my hand around the angry red sergeant dick. I bent my head forward and closed my mouth around it. Doug had moved around on the floor, so he could keep sucking my own prick.

"Ah. That's it, faggot. That feels good. Do you like my dick, faggot? Do you like my big thick dick?"

"MMMM HHHHHMMMMM," I assured him, as I continued to suck on his big thick dick.

He reached into his pocket and took out a small pager. As I was sucking on him, he called someone. "Driggs. Driggs."

"Yeah?" it answered.

"Merrill here. I'm in the third floor men's room. You'd better get right over here. The door's locked. Knock three times." He put away the pager and grabbed the back of my head with his free hands, forcing his cock into the deepest recesses of my throat. I choked. But I gamely kept going. It was too late to stop now, and the prize was within reach. Rejection. I would be rejected by the military. How sad. How very, very sad.

I was really starting to enjoy his dick when I heard a knock at the door. Three knocks, that is. Knock. Knock. Knock. He coldly pushed my mouth off his prick and walked to the door, where he turned the latch, and standing with his exposed stiff cock behind the door, opened it. Another soldier entered. It was the lieutenant. The one who wouldn't listen to me when I said I was queer. Lieutenant Edgar Driggs. Well now he would know.

"What have you got here?" The lieutenant asked the sergeant.

"A couple of nancy boys who like to suck cock. I thought maybe you might like to get your cock sucked."

"You know me. I always like to get my cock sucked," the lieutenant assured him.

They walked over and the sergeant stuck his angry red dick back into my mouth. I noisily fed on it, as Doug continued to suck my own dick.

Lieutenant Driggs was taller than the sergeant. He was not as muscular. But he had a lanky gracefulness. He was a few years older than the sergeant, also. He had black hair in a short military buzz cut, and a five a clock shadow. With too little hair on the top of his head, and a little too much on his face, he looked dark. Dark and mean. "I'll take the other one," he said to the sergeant. He pulled out a large purple stiff dick, and walked around my body, where he grabbed Doug's hair and pulled him up on his knees to cock level. "Suck my dick, homo," he said to Doug. "And you damned well better do a good job. You hear me? You hear me, faggot?"

"I hear you, sir," Doug said. He chomped down on the large purple pole. I think Doug was getting a little frightened now. And so was I. These guys were a little mean.

The men's room was filled with the sound of two wet mouths slobbering over two large military dicks. Both soldiers had our heads in a vice, as they forced us down upon their turgid instruments. They were both breathing heavily and "Aaahhhing" a little too.

"I think some of the higher-ups might be very grateful if we let them in on this. Don't you?" Driggs asked Merrill.

"You're right. We should share the wealth. It'll look good on our next evaluation report," said Merrill. He took one hand off the back of my head and reached into his pocket again. He drew out the pager and began making calls. "Captain Argus. Captain Argus."

"Yes?" asked the pager.

"This is Sergeant Merrill. Could you come to the third floor men's room right away, sir? The door's locked. Knock three times."

"Roger," said the pager.

Sergeant Merrill made a second call to a Major Forbes who also agreed to knock three times. Then he put the pager in his pocket, but instead of grabbing the back of my head, he used both hands to open his belt. As I was sucking, he was stepping out of his clothes. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off. He lifted his undershirt over his head. He dropped his pants and underpants to his ankles and stepped out of them. And while I was sucking him, he unlaced his shoes and shucked them off. Then the socks. Then he was as naked as we were. Lieutenant Driggs followed his example, move for move.

There were three knocks on the door. Merrill pushed my head away again, and moved behind the door, before unlatching it. The first one in, I learned later, was Captain Argus. Argus was in his early forties, and was a big guy. He also had a little bit of a beer gut, and his head was bald. He smiled when he saw Doug and me naked on our knees, with Driggs' cock slamming into Doug's mouth. Driggs smiled back at Argus. Before Argus could say anything, there were another three knocks on the steel door. Merrill opened it again to quickly admit Major Forbes. Then he closed the door and turned the latch. He walked barefoot back across the room, and lifted my mouth onto his dick again.

Major Forbes was in his early fifties. A career soldier, if ever I saw one. He was very tall, and very powerful looking. He had salt and pepper, black and white hair, in a short military cut. I noticed a gold wedding band on his finger as he began stroking his cock through his pants.

"Are they good cocksuckers?" he asked.

"This one's pretty good," said Driggs, in praise of Doug's oral abilities.

"Mine's pretty good too," admitted Merrill. I felt flattered. I was getting a gold star on my first cocksucking effort.

"Let me try this one," said Argus, displacing Driggs in front of Doug's mouth. He opened his zipper and dragged out his hard meat, and forced Doug to chow down.

"I'll take this one," said Major Forbes. He dropped his pants and underpants to his ankles, and when he had worked his dick into a nice size hard-on he stuck it into my mouth. Merrill, displaced, needed something to do. He walked around my body and surveyed it. He seemed to have decided on something. He walked over to the sink and covered his hands with liquid soap and water. Then he came back and sat down on the floor behind me. A wet soapy finger started flicking around on the outside of my butthole.