In the Line of Fire

12:10 Mat_Rock: Four months. Four. Fucking. MONTHS. Sitting here, twiddling my goddamned thumbs. Four months since I've made any progress. Four months since I've seen or heard from Sgt. Mark Christopher. They won't tell me anything.

12:10 Mat_Rock: We'd made it out of Chechnya, just. That was a year ago. Kept to the plan, kept to the mission: follow the money trail for illegal arms sales happening in Afghanistan (and, it seemed, half a dozen other war torn regions), find the source for the weapons and the intel leaks letting them do their business unimpeded. Kicking ass, taking names. Kicking each others' ass, taking cock, and giving it. It was like some kind of dream life. Pretty sure I was falling in love. But shit like that can't last forever when your life belongs to others.

12:10 Mat_Rock: Four months ago, I'm given orders to report here to Camp Panser-Kaserne, the USMC command in Europe, to debrief a roomful of generals and CIA and MI6 agents, on our joint operations. And by debrief, I mean get grilled. Mark was supposed to be a day behind me. He never showed. Reassigned, I'm told. I don't need to know, I'm told.

12:10 Mat_Rock: And they just left me here, on a detached "assignment," and that assignment was apparently to find something to do with myself and not ask questions and not leave Boblingen. So I waited... I watched Netflix and chilled, I trained, I found a couple decent fights and a few decent fucks and time ticked by.

12:10 Mat_Rock: And now, finally, FINALLY, orders are coming. Report for briefing at 0800. Finally. My uniform is crisper than it's ever been, I'm looking sharp, I'm like a bottle of lightning, energy barely contained and ready to be released. As my hand reaches the door handle, I hear a muffled, posh British voice from inside the room and I can't help the huge grin that splits my face near in two as I open the door and walk in.

12:10 Mat_Rock: At which point the huge grin crashes right down. "Who the fuck are you?"

14:11 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I stepped out of the shower, and shut the water off. I take a couple of minutes to dry myself off and put on my semi-formal dress uniform, stone-coloured short-sleeved shirt, green trousers, adjusting my beret and stable belt. Checking myself out in the mirror, wanting to make a good impression. I've never been to Camp Panser-Kaserne before, nor have I ever worked with Americans before.

14:11 Corporal_Sam_Mason: After my commander pulled me aside and explained that I was being reassigned to an elite joint operations task force with the American Marines, I called up James, my older brother, former SAS himself and now working for MI6, to ask him about his experiences with American Marines. James summed up his impressions in just a few words. Direct. Crude. Loyal. And.... horny. My brother and I both shared the preference for men, muscle, fighting, and sex. So his summary immediately stoked my curiosity.

14:11 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Many people assumed that I had followed in Jame's footsteps because I looked up to him. And there was some truth to that, but not in the way that many people assumed. James had discovered the freedom to express his more primal tendencies in the SAS. When he discovered that I shared his wiring for men, muscle, fighting, and sex through an incredibly embarrassing incident that I try not to think about, he suggested a military career. It seemed like a great option to me. And it had been, for many reasons. I'd discovered not only an outlet for my own primal nature, but discovered that I was born to be a soldier. As I trained in hand to hand combat, weapons handling, infiltration, stealth, I discovered reserves of inner strength and physical toughness I never knew I possessed. Sure, I'd been through your standard male-bonding Rugby experiences shared by all Public school boys, but training for the SAS was an entire new level. I loved it. Every aspect of it. I was good at it, and it felt good to be doing good and doing what I loved. And just like James had promised, there were plenty of opportunities for this Public School educated gentleman to engage in the kind of wild and primal fighting and sex that would shock my parents.

14:11 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I finished adjusting my uniform, and headed out for the briefing, five minutes early. As I was taught, Early is On Time. I'd earned this assignment through my outstanding performance in Afghanistan, and I was ready. I entered the briefing room, and waited patiently, adjusting my beret one more time. I introduce myself to the Officer in charge, explaining how impressed I was with the facilities here at Camp Panser-Kaserne, when suddenly the door opens.

14:11 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I turn and look at an incredibly handsome Marine, wearing a huge grin. Then, suddenly as he sees me, the grin evaporates and he says, "Who the fuck are you?"

14:11 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Well. James was right. Direct and Crude. I sighed inwardly. This was going to be a tough assignment. I was assuming that he was expecting the man I was replacing, Sgt. Mark Christopher. I had no idea what had happened to him.

14:11 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I stood up. I couldn't help but notice how built this Marine was. He filled out his uniform in a very tidy fashion. I could tell by his insignia that he was a Sergeant. Damn. I found myself wanting to take his muscle for a test drive, see if he could fight as good as he looked. My dick started to harden, but I ignored it. I extended my hand, my face forming a cheeky grin, but my eyes flashed with irritation at being treated like an unwanted guest at a party. In the best British fashion, I faced an uncomfortable situation with humor, replying in my posh British accent, "I'm fucking Corporal Samuel Mason, SAS, at your fucking service, Sgt."

15:55 Mat_Rock: I'm pretty good at parallel processing. It's one of the reasons that I am, at the risk of sounding completely immodest, really fucking good at my job. So, in the couple of heartbeats it takes to step into the room and take this guy's hand, several threads of thought run and come together in my mind.

15:55 Mat_Rock: Firstly, taking him in. Carries himself well, fit and solid looking under the uniform, a little taller than I am, probably has a good 10 pounds on me. Young, certainly no older than I am. Chiseled, blue-eyed, hot as fuck. Most of his face says a friendly hello, but the eyes... the eyes say, " if you don't start showing the respect that I have earned, I will make you." Fair enough, Corporal.

15:55 Mat_Rock: Secondly, the uniform in general and, specifically, the Corporalness of his rank. I've pounded on a lot of doors trying to find out what happened to Mark, figuratively, and twice literally. A Corporal is not here to give me any information I don't already have. He's being briefed, not briefing me.

15:55 Mat_Rock: Thirdly, there's no point in keeping me in Europe if this mission has hit a dead end. In fact, even if it hasn't, there's no reason to keep me here in this holding pattern unless the chain of command for this mission has become unclear, and that would only happen if it's become an official, ongoing JSOC project. So, the only thing that makes sense is...

15:55 Mat_Rock: Fuck. I don't want a new partner. I don’t want to break another one in, I don't want to have to worry about his competence, or skill. By this time, my hand is gripping his.

15:55 Mat_Rock: I can feel my cock throb a little in my trousers. With a physical dimension added to him, feeling the lifting calluses, the strength of grip, seeing the knuckles up close and knowing this man has done his fair share of punching, my body responds. Which is really fucking annoying, because I neither need nor want him around.

15:55 Mat_Rock: I hitch my own smile back into place, and I'm sure it gets to my eyes about as much as his does. "Gunnery Sgt. Mat Rock." Then I feel my grin become both genuine and shit-eating. "Do you spend a lot of your time servicing Sergeants?" Immediately, a tiny stab of guilt, like I'm supposed to be saving my teasing for someone else.

16:27 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I was thrown into this assignment cold, and had no idea what to expect. I might be young, but I've had enough battlefield experience to learn that the first thing you need to ditch is expectations. They just get in the way.

16:27 Corporal_Sam_Mason: As soon as I felt this Marine's grip, I felt a thrill run through me. It was solid and strong. His hands were clearly used to pushing some heavy weight around, and he was no stranger to hand to hand combat, judging by the condition of his hands.

16:27 Corporal_Sam_Mason: It only reinforced my initial desire to find out if this Yank could fight as good as he looked and felt. Judging by the glint in his eyes, he wasn't too happy to have me on board, so maybe I'd get a chance to find out. I'd learned that sometimes, despite what my upbringing tried to instill in me, the best way to deal with this kind of underlying tension was through some physical confrontation. Better than therapy. And more fun.

16:27 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Then he tells me his name and rank, and gets cheeky right back. Good, a sense of humor I can work with. Better than the alternative. I look at you askance, my mouth twisting into a half-cocked grin, "Well, in my experience, they have a very difficult time servicing themselves. Apparently, that's what Corporals are for. A Sergeant without a Corporal around starts feeling pretty useless without someone to order around to do the hard work. Can't have that, can we?" My own eyes start to twinkle a bit, prodding you subtly.

19:54 Mat_Rock: Goddammit, I don't want to like this guy, it's just going to make me feel like an asshole in five minutes.

19:54 Mat_Rock: I can't tell if he's just trying to work some kind of double entendre, or is just too British to acknowledge what I meant by "servicing," or if he's really so innocent he didn't get it, and I'm working up my next dig but I never get to fire it because at that moment the door opens again.

19:54 Mat_Rock: I snap to attention and salute, brain taking in the US Marine uniform with three stars on the epaulette before I've even processed the name on it. In my periphery, I see Mason coming to attention and saluting as well.

19:54 Mat_Rock: "At ease," he rumbles, his deep voice belying his small stature. About my height, but 140lbs soaking wet if he's an ounce, and probably in his mid-to-late fifties. Still, he looks trim and fit, like all Marines do. His iron gray hair is a sharp contrast to his deeply melanated skin. His bearing is that of somebody who has been used to command for a very, very long time.

19:54 Mat_Rock: "I am Lieutenant General James Baldwin, and unless you two completely screw the pooch, this will be the only conversation we have. Under the auspices of US JSOC and UK Military Intelligence, I have been appointed as the head of a new joint intelligence, special operations, and counter-terrorism division, known as Section 21. You two," he says, sizing us up in turn, "are to be its primary field operatives."

19:54 Mat_Rock: I knew it. Now comes the asshole part. "With respect, sir, I have a partner, and I'd like him back."

19:54 Mat_Rock: "Not an option," he says, commandingly and with just enough fire to push my threat button, "and that is the very last time you will bring the subject up or I swear to Christ I'll reassign you to Antarctica and leave you there, your skills and usefulness be damned, is that understood?"

19:54 Mat_Rock: "Yes, sir," I say, not daring to let any of my rage and frustrations out. I glance at Corporal Poshington, and know immediately where those frustrations will be going at the first opportunity.

13:27 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I stand there, my cocky half smile on my face, wondering if Sgt. Yank here has the subtlety to navigate my sense of humor. Judging by the quick flash of confusion as he tries to work out whether or not I understood his none-to-subtle jibe that I'm a cocksucker, he's going to be fun to poke. Then, a US General enters the room, and I immediately wipe the smile off my face, turn and salute smartly.

13:27 Corporal_Sam_Mason: We get the basic introduction and details of the division from the general, handsome enough for his age.

13:27 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Far more interesting to me is the way that Sgt. Yankee speaks up to the General. Well, the Sarge clearly has balls. Then as he asks about his partner, I have a flash of insight. I read people well, it's an incredibly valuable trait to have in my line of work, especially when undercover operations are required. Clearly, Sgt. Yankee had developed a pretty strong attachment to his prior partner. And... he resents me for replacing him. I looked at the Sarge in a new light. I wondered, dared to hope, if the Sarge perhaps shared my inclinations. Well. It was too early to be certain, but this little insight certainly added weight to that possibility.

13:27 Corporal_Sam_Mason: The general isn't having any of the Sarge's guff, and slaps him down nicely. And I definitely catch the look that he sends my way, and I return it with a cool glance, challenging even. Bring it on Sarge.

13:27 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Having dealt with the Sarge, the General continues, "Now, unless there are any more interruptions." He pauses, and gives both me and Sgt. Yankee a meaningful glare indicating that there had better the hell not be anymore interruptions. "Let me introduce your field Commander. You will receive your marching orders from him. If he says jump, you say 'How high?' If he tells you to wipe his ass, then you better find some TP double time, and make his ass shine. Do you understand me?" He gives a particularly hard stare at Sgt. Rock, and I wondered for a moment if there was some undercurrent I was missing.

13:27 Corporal_Sam_Mason: He turns then, at the sound of a sharp knock on the door. He calls out, "Enter." The door opens, and in walks Commander Ronald Craig. I worked hard to keep my expression absolutely neutral. It was an enormous effort. Commander Ronald Craig had a ... certain reputation. He was SAS, like myself, and though I'd never had any direct interactions with him before, his reputation preceded him. He was from a working class family in Manchester, and had fought his way into his position, blasting big holes through the glass ceiling that reserved most officer positions for the upper class. He was in many ways, very un-British in his directness and attitude. Brutally tough on the men under his command, and yet utterly fair at the same time. Nonetheless, all the men I'd spoken with who had served under him stated unequivocally that he was one of the finest officers they had ever served under. He had his little issues though. He tended to give upper class public school educated men like myself a bit of a 'hard' time, and Americans rubbed him the wrong way. Why the hell he was selected for this posting given his well-known prejudices I have no idea. Undoubtedly because he was the best, and personal idiosyncrasies were irrelevant to the powers that be. Well. This assignment was becoming more and more interesting as the time goes on.

13:27 Corporal_Sam_Mason: ( https://drive.google.com/file/d/1waTbA0rDDyS97VTGJvtxGlnDoeniznOt/view?usp=sharing )

13:27 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Commander Ronald Craig was a few inches taller than me, and easily weighed in at 200 lbs. He was in his mid-forties, wore a beard, and judging from the thick muscle pushing against his uniform, he kept himself fighting fit. I judged him an incredibly handsome man. He saluted General Baldwin, crisply. General Baldwin nodded, and continued, "This is Commander Ronald Craig, SAS. You will report directly to him. Commander, the floor is yours." Commander Craig nodded, and turned to face me and the Sarge.

13:27 Corporal_Sam_Mason: His stare was direct, hard as knives. He carefully walked around the Sarge, staring intensely without speaking for a while, then repeated the procedure with me. Finally he spoke up, in his hard man Mancunian accent, "I've reviewed both of your service records." He stared at both of us. Then admitted, grudgingly it seemed. "Not bad. The both of you seem to have some balls." His stone face cracked into a grin then, and looked over at me. "Even if they've only just dropped." Then he looked at the Sarge. "You are both younger than I would like, but Sgt. Rock has proven his abilities in this mission already. And Corporal Mason." He turns then to look at me. "You did some outstanding work in Afghanistan." He turned back to face us both then. "Quite an accomplishment for a redneck Yankee hick and an overeducated Public School gentleman." He grinned again to take some of the sting out of his words, but it's clear he was pushing our buttons. Deliberately. General Baldwin kept a neutral expression. It was clear he wasn't taking offense at the Commander's choice of words. I kept my expression neutral. He continued. "Now, for your sake Corporal, Section 21 is currently tracing the movement of illegally sold arms. These armaments are not ending up in friendly hands. But more importantly, we are trying to trace them to the source. If you want to kill a snake, you cut off its head, not its tail. As Sgt. Rock knows, we've made some progress through our efforts in Chechnya, but not enough. We are currently attempting to locate the whereabouts of the latest shipment, and once we have determined where it has ended up, then the two of you are going to find out exactly how it ended up there. Then, we will keep tracing the chain back to its source. Do you have any questions?"

16:25 Mat_Rock: I don't usually have too much of a problem with the brass, but on the heels of being shot down I'm hanging onto my temper with both goddamned hands. Why THE FUCK is a decorated Marine like myself... and presumably Poshington is above competent or he wouldn't be standing next to me, getting this assignment... being given this hard-nosed, ask-how-high, you'll follow orders bullshit? Does he think I can't handle joint operations command? This isn't my first fucking rodeo... I'd been doing this job for months before he gave it a fancy name.

16:25 Mat_Rock: Then, it all becomes clear. I felt Poshington tense when our new CO walked in, and while my first impression was what a solid stud he is and how much hotter he'd look with my cock in him, by the time he asks if we have any questions, I want to shove it down his throat to shut him up. Hick? Fuck you. I can tell already this guy has issues with Americans, and he seems to have something against Poshie, too... but it's fine. I'm a professional. And I'm sure I'll be able to talk him into sparring, anyway.

16:25 Mat_Rock: I open my mouth to ask the only question I want an answer to, and as I do Baldwin catches my eye and my brain throws up a mental image of miserable, endless winter and I shift gears before I even start to speak.

16:25 Mat_Rock: "What does our support team look like, sir?"

16:25 Mat_Rock: "Intel analyst, cyber warfare specialist, medic, and my adjutant, plus the strike team. Dossiers will be provided." His face and voice become a grin again, but it doesn't quite fully reach his eyes. "They'll be a little longer than you're used to, since we spell everything correctly over here."

16:25 Mat_Rock: "I'll manage, sir." I make my own voice a grin... this won't be the first dickbag CO you've had, Mat. Make it work. "With your permission, I'll get Corporal Mason up to speed. I assume we're staying put here until Intel gets us something actionable?"

16:25 Mat_Rock: He nods, then looks at Mason. I'm vaguely irritated with myself for feeling relieved not to have his attention any longer.

19:37 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I listen attentively as Sgt. Redneck asks about our support team. It actually sounds solid, but I had to fake a cough in order to hide my grin at the quip about spelling. Then I listen very carefully as the Sarge asks permission to bring me up to speed.

19:37 Corporal_Sam_Mason: The Commander shifts his attention to me, and I feel that laser focus with a sense of both excitement and dread. Excitement because Commander Ronald Craig has a very manly, charismatic presence about him that made my balls ache. Kind of like a fire that you are tempted to put your hand in. Dread because, well, you might get burned. "Sir, not a question, but a personal observation, if I may. I understand that you served with my brother, James Mason, during his time in the SAS. I just wanted to say Sir, that in his own words, you were 'the most demanding, unrelenting, uncompromising, inflexible hardass he'd ever served under.'" I paused, observing the Commander's face. It stayed perfectly neutral. I continued, "and that he would have gladly taken a bullet for you. Sir." I stayed perfectly stock still.

19:37 Corporal_Sam_Mason: The Commander searched my face, his eyes seeming to see right through me. Then he suddenly pulled his head back, and laughed out loud. When he finally got control of his laughter, he turned to me, saying, "He said that did he? Well." He looked at me sidelong for a moment, an... unreadable twinkle in his eye. "Your brother had an exemplary ... service ... record. You have yet to prove yourself to me. For all I know, your performance in Afghanistan was a fluke." He got up extremely close all of a sudden, directly in my face, his nose nearly touching mine. Then he practically bellowed in my face as if I were a raw recruit, "IF I want my ass licked or my cock sucked, believe me, Corporal, I will ASK. Do I make myself clear?"

19:37 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I swallowed hard. Damn, fire did in fact burn. But fuck me, he was goddamn sexy when he was pissed. It had been worth it. "SIR. YES SIR."

19:37 Corporal_Sam_Mason: He backed off and turned all smiles again. "Excellent gentlemen. Sgt, see to the Corporal's further education." He nodded to the Sarge. "Corporal." He nodded to me. "General." He nodded to General Baldwin. "My apologies, but I have a meeting with Intel in five minutes." He saluted the General, turned and left, still chuckling on his way out, something half-intelligible that sounded like 'the boy has some balls'.

14:47 Mat_Rock: It was pretty gratifying to watch Poshie's nutsucking flattery get called out and shot down... for a hot second I thought Craig would just give him a Good Boy and look for more, and that would've had me looking for a transfer. Maybe the CO won't be so bad after all...

14:47 Mat_Rock: Still, an alarm bell did get rung during that exchange. I had thought that this guy must have landed this assignment because of his competency, but now I'm wondering if maybe there was a nepotism factor. My desire to spar has suddenly gone from hazing the new guy and low-key dastardly taking out some frustrations to a vital assessment of his ability to have my back.

14:47 Mat_Rock: Baldwin made a few more grumbly, unnecessary threats... man, what was this CO's fucking rep? Then, he "dismissed" us, and didn't even wait to receive our salute properly. Some Marine.

14:47 Mat_Rock: "So," I turned to Poshie with a grin, "kiss-ass, huh? Is that how you passed SAS training, or did your brother just sign off for you?"

15:08 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I'm still reeling a bit from the Commanders intense focus. I wondered why the hell I had come up with a line like that? Then I realized. I wanted to feel Commander Craig out. In the same way he wanted to feel us out, push us, prod us. I wanted to push him and see how he played. Damn. He didn't mess around. I should feel embarrassed about the way he called me out, but I didn't. I felt turned on, the Commander was one hell of a powerful, handsome man. And I had begun to see just a glimpse of what my brother had been trying to tell me.

15:08 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Baldwin left, and then it was just me and Sgt. Yank. I stiffened at his insult. What the fuck did this arrogant self-centred American ass know about what I had to go through to earn my beret? My eyes flashed hard as steel. I blanked my expression as I turned to Sgt. Redneck, seething inside. I really wasn't going to take this kind of shit the entire mission. Time to nip this in the bud now.

15:08 Corporal_Sam_Mason: My face was grinning, but my eyes were flashing fire and steel. "If you are really that curious as to how I passed my SAS training, why don't you and I go somewhere private, Sgt, and I'd be happy to give you a demonstration." All thoughts of how handsome or muscled the Sarge was, or how much I wanted to fight and fuck him, drained out of me. The truth was, because of my background and who my brother was, it wasn't the first time I'd had to listen to that shit. In fact, the opposite was true. Because of who my brother was, and because of my family, I'd had to work HARDER, do more than my fellows.

15:08 Corporal_Sam_Mason: "Unless of course, you'd rather go sit in a corner and sulk like a spoiled brat because I'm not Sgt. Mark Christopher." My muscles flexed almost subconsciously as the desire to goad the Sarge into a fight raged through me. I was so sick and tired of being told the only reason I'd gotten where I had in my life was because of who my brother was or who my family was. I had to take it from commanding officers, but I didn't have to take it from this American redneck.

15:36 Mat_Rock: I feel a little swell of shameful satisfaction as my barb very clearly lands... and then I feel that shame swell and satisfaction turn to white hot anger as Poshie has the fucking audacity to see my wound and pour salt in it.

15:36 Mat_Rock: It's on.

15:36 Mat_Rock: "Come on," I say, turning on my heel and walking away, not even looking to see if he's following. "That's not an order. It's a dare." I only just don't slam the door open and stride down the hall, out the door, and across the quad to the gym. I can hear Poshie's heavy, angry steps behind me.

15:53 Corporal_Sam_Mason: There we go, that hit home just like I'd intended. The Sarge stiffens and I can see the anger boiling in his eyes. He turns and tells me to follow, not an order but a dare. Perfect. Still seething inside, I follow just behind him, my shoes thudding loudly onto the floor. We enter a gym. I look around, surveying the well kitted out facility. Weight lifting equipment, heavy bags, sparring kit stowed neatly in cubby holes. A boxing ring in the center, then grappling mats off to one side, taking up about 1/4 of the room on one end, easily 30' x 30'.

15:53 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I stride over, not speaking, to the edge of the mats. Responding to your dare, laying down the gauntlet by choosing the grappling mats over the boxing ring. I kick off my shoes, and start to undress. I don't have any fight kit with me, but so the fuck what. It's a gym, and my skivvies will satisfy decency. I unbuckle my belt, and work my uniform trousers off my thickly muscled thighs, revealing my grey squarecut skivvies, my ample balls and cock, even soft, filling out the crotch.

15:53 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I unbutton my shirt carefully and precisely, working my arms out of the stone colored dress shirt. It was a bit tight, and I had to peel my arms out of it. I laid my beret carefully off to one side, and worked the tight muscle-hugging t-shirt up and over my head and arms, revealing my tightly chiseled and cut muscled torso, the square bricks of my abs tightly defined, sporting very little body fat just now, my pecs rectangular and solid as steel plates, my biceps and triceps thick and powerful. I move out in my bare feet and skivvies to the centre of the mats, warming up, stretching my limbs, waiting to demonstrate to this stupid American hick exactly how I had passed my SAS training.

16:13 Mat_Rock: As soon as we enter Poshie makes a beeline for the mats. Confident, pissed, ready to bang. Suits me.

16:13 Mat_Rock: He starts stripping and I follow suit, and can't help but admire what I'm seeing, even as I'm planning to bust it up. Now that is a well oiled machine.

16:13 Mat_Rock: I'm no fucking slouch, of course. Rock solid, power waiting to be unleashed from every bulging muscle... thick pecs, wide boulder shoulders, monster lats, big guns and forearms, massive thighs, carved granite abs, big hands and feet. I mean, I'm only 165lbs, but I'm also only 5'6" so I look like some kind of scaled down muscle monster, and my strength to weight ratio is about as good as it gets.

16:13 Mat_Rock: Poshie, though... he looks rock solid, too. A little taller, a little heavier... right in the zone where a guy is hottest for me. As I finish stripping down to my silkies, I don't know if my cock is half hard from appreciating him in spite of me or purely from lust for the beating I'm about to administer, and I don't give a fuck.

16:13 Mat_Rock: I step on the mat and start moving efficiently through warm ups; some squats, burpees that become sprawls, some ground flow, some walking lunges that become shot drills...

16:13 Mat_Rock: We work in silence for five minutes, the air practically charged. Weirdly, nobody else is around at the moment. Just as well.

16:13 Mat_Rock: "You ready, Poshie?" I ask grimly.

08:06 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I check out Sgt. Redneck as he strips off his uniform, and even though I'm still seething from Sarge's insult, I find myself responding to the sight. He is thickly muscled, powerful, squat and hot as fuck. I judge I've got a good 10 lbs and 2 inches on him, but he's built like a fireplug. Damn. Feeling myself conflicted, my cock beginning to stiffen as my balls react to his power and muscle. Some of the fight and fuck desire starting to mix with the seething anger. It's a bitter brew.

08:06 Corporal_Sam_Mason: After I work through my own warmup, some shadow boxing and mobility stretches, some shoulder rolls, I turn and face him, dropping into a battle stance, leading with my left foot, bouncing lightly on my heels, guard up, side on.

08:06 Corporal_Sam_Mason: He asks if I'm ready, and I nod, expression hard, laser focused. I circle, coming in with a hard hitting combo to test out his defenses. My core tenses with power, abs tighten like concrete, power rippling through my cut hard muscle as I fire off two left jabs and a straight right right at his face, popping each punch off with power, precision and speed. Pushing forward hard with each strike, I polish off the combo by bringing my right knee up hard, looking to spear the Sarge right in the abs.

12:40 Mat_Rock: You can tell about three seconds into a fight if a guy is good, if you're gonna wipe the floor with him or be in for a fight. And Poshie... the second he moved, coming in with that flurry, my cock hardened up because this guy could FIGHT, and he is on my level. With a begrudging admiration for his skill, I felt a thrill. No need to hold back. I can unload all my anger at him and the world and Mark through my body and fucking smash him with it, because he can take it.

12:40 Mat_Rock: His hand speed, precision, and power rivaled my own... no opening for a counterpunch as I parry, parry, slip, backstepping each time. With the slip I close, see his hip twist... I know I'm about to eat a knee and flex my abs HARD. It still feels like taking a fucking cannonball in the gut, the knee hammering in with a deep, meaty THUD and forcing a brutal grunt out of me, but now I'm in the pocket, inside most of his guard, and it's my fucking turn.

12:40 Mat_Rock: My hips fire, shoulders fire, driving my fists through two explosive uppercuts, left after right, trying to carve a path to his chin. This opens the distance a bit, and now it's time for hooks to the body, again, left right left right, fast as lightning, my hands snapping back to guard position after each punch, fast, clean, textbook.

13:10 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Sgt. Redneck eats my jabs and straights, his guard is excellent, professional. My dick stiffens even further. My knee smashes home, and the impact is savagely solid, eliciting a satisfying grunt, but man, so is the defense. The Marine's abs don't have any give in them, just solid muscle. What a core on this man. Damn.

13:10 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Nothing fires me up more than top-notch competition, and that's what I get as soon as Sgt. Rock retaliates. I'm in close now, he's inside my guard, and he fires off a series of uppercuts. My elbows snap together tight, pinning hard to my pecs, stuffing both uppercuts, but each punch packs enough power to force me back. Damn. Wanted to stay in close.

13:10 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Not an option, as a series of brutal hooks come sailing in towards my ribs and core. I pour on the speed and power, bringing my left elbow down block the body hook, but the Sarge is lighting fast, and the right one sinks home, singing in just below my descending arm, not quite able to block it fast enough. My core is solid, muscles flexed hard, but the impact shakes me like an artillery shot, a wave of pain rippling through my tight core. I grunt explosively from the impact, that's gonna leave a bruise.

13:10 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Not allowing myself to falter, eating the pain, I surge forward, closing the distance right in the middle of his flurry, snapping my leg up and out in a rapid fire push kick to disrupt the flurry of hooks. Cocking my right fist, shoulder tightening with power, hip twisting as I look to use the distraction to drive a straight right towards Sgt. Redneck's face.

15:22 Mat_Rock: Poshie continues, irritatingly, to impress... his guard snaps in and my uppercuts just pound his thickly muscled forearms. Even more irritating is how much harder my cock gets.

15:22 Mat_Rock: One of my hooks makes it through his superb defense, earning a satisfying grunt... that's right, bro, you ain't the only one who can box... but the satisfaction is short-lived. The flurry opened enough space between us for him to fire off one of the fastest front kicks I've ever seen, and my gut eats a quick tepe, forcing a "hrrrk!" of air out and driving me back a step... definitely don't want to take too many of those!

15:22 Mat_Rock: On the bright side, we're opened just outside punch range, so as he fires a hammer-heavy straight right at my chin, I have time and space to step outside to my left, my right hand clamping his right wrist, my left hand slamming against his thick right lay lat and gripping hard... the feel of that rock solid muscle in my grip is like an electric current, running straight through my brain and into my balls, hardening my cock further, goddammit body get with program, we're trying to level this smug fucker and I need that blood in my muscle... I PULL him through his follow through and power my right knee into his gut like I'm trying to break down a cinder block wall.

13:44 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I feel a small tingle in my nuts as my front kick makes solid contact with the Marine's abs. Again, the thick, heavily muscled resistance of those fireplug abs feels incredible. Damn. What is he made of, concrete?

13:44 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I fire my right, trying to surge forward and close the distance, but I misjudged my timing, allowing Sgt. Redneck to sidestep to his left and snatch my right wrist with his right. Ahhh damn. The American gets a firm hold of my solid right lat in his left, I can feel his grip digging into the thick layers of lat muscle, and pulls me twisting into a savage knee straight to my hard, flexed abs.

13:44 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I double up slightly as the brutal impact sends a shockwave through my densely packed muscle like a thunderbolt, a deep, aching pain ripping through my core. My abs hold, but only just. I doubt they'd manage a second strike like that. Fuck, that hurt.

13:44 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Gritting my teeth as I ride the shockwaves of pain, I pivot on my right foot, twisting into the Sarge, while driving my left fist with every ounce of strength I can muster, my left shoulder and bicep rippling with power, directly into a left hook aimed for his righthand short ribs, twisting my right hand while it's still caught in the Sarge's grip in an attempt to catch his own right wrist, tensing to keep Sgt. Redneck's arm up and out of play, so I have a wide open target to spear my fist into those muscled-covered ribs.

13:44 Corporal_Sam_Mason: As a further safety measure, after pivoting, I quickly snap my right foot behind the American's left foot, both to keep him from gaining my back and possibly, if I'm lucky, catching him off guard and tripping him up.

17:10 Mat_Rock: Jesus, but this guy is solid. I can feel my knee land hard and heavy and it feels like I'm kneeing a heavy bag. Or a tractor tire. But I can feel in his reaction that the strike scores big and my brain is already pursuing the potential follow ups when...

17:10 Mat_Rock: "AWWP!" I bleat as his fist hits my ribs like a hammer, fuck that's gonna be a hell of a bruise... I feel his foot step behind my ankle as he reverses my wrist grip... so, I can't make space to strike properly, and my left foot has to be the pivot so all I can do is open my ribs up to be pummeled or try to go to the ground from this shit position and not get mounted. This guy is fucking good. I can feel my balls taking a liking to him and it just pisses me off more. So, I go for option three.

17:10 Mat_Rock: Dropping my hips low, enough that I can feel my weight yank down on him through the wrist grip, I SURGE forward, driving straight through Poshie, my powerful quads and ass pushing my strong size 11 feet against the mat with all the strength I can muster.

17:10 Mat_Rock: It's no kind of technical takedown, just a close quarters bull rush, but I'm strong as fuck and if we're going to the ground I'm not doing it in this tough fucker's mount!

18:33 Corporal_Sam_Mason: My left fist smashes into his ribs with a satisfying impact. The excitement of the contest is singing in my veins now, and my dick is stiffening of its own accord. This American's sheer toughness, his muscle, his raw, masculine aggression that grabs my nuts. I've almost forgotten now about how much he pissed me off. Unconsciously, my face breaks out in a half friendly grin, I'm starting to really enjoy this fight. Such a treat to test out my muscles and my skills against a man skilled enough, tough enough that I don't have to hold back.

18:33 Corporal_Sam_Mason: The tough fireplug sarge starts to drop his hips and pull down on my arm to drive forward straight into me. I was able to pick up on the tells just in time, but I was well positioned to survive and counter the beefy American's charge. Tensing my muscle, exploding with power, I pivot on my right foot, still planted behind Sgt. Yankee's left ankle, swinging out of the way of his powerful charge, releasing my grip on his right wrist at the same time. My massive thighs coiling with power, I spring like a lion onto his back, hoping to drive his thick, powerful beef face first down to the mats with me firmly mounted on his back, my right arm instinctively looking to wrap around his thick bull neck, as my legs look to spread to either side of his thick body, preparing a solid base when we hit ground!

19:56 Mat_Rock: This dude is fast, as fast as me! Immediately turning my rush into a back take attempt, and I'm not about to go belly down with this beast on my back.

19:56 Mat_Rock: I grip his right wrist with my left hand, pinning it to me, and turn my rush into a counter-clockwise twisting, violent drop into the turtle position, whipping as hard as I can into that tight arc. It's like a low, fast, ugly ippon seoinage, but it works, and as he comes over my shoulder I release my grips and scramble up to my feet, squaring back up. I can feel the grin on my face.

19:56 Mat_Rock: "Ok, Poshie, so... I guess you're not a completely shit fighter after all."

12:04 Corporal_Sam_Mason: As I'm bearing down on him from behind, wrapping my right arm around the Sarge's thick bull neck, I suddenly feel a tight grip on my wrist, and a violent surge of power. Damn.. this Yankee is damn fast. I brace myself and take the hit as I get tossed over his shoulder, slamming into the mats on my back with quite a bit of power, knocking some of the starch out of me for sure.

12:04 Corporal_Sam_Mason: My muscle responds smoothly though, and I twist my hips flipping myself back over to all fours, then surging back up into a battle stance, squaring off with the grinning American. I can tell that he's feeling right smug about pulling off the judo throw, and I give him his dues, he's fast, fit, knows his hand to hand, and strong as an ox. Damn this was fun.

12:04 Corporal_Sam_Mason: "And maybe your neck isn't quite as red as I first thought, Sgt. Hick." I'm completely in the zone now, right and left hands darting forward, weaving in and out, seeking a way through, muscles rippling, my face split in a grin of excitement and enjoyment of the fight, my chiseled muscle covered in sweat, wanting to take Sgt. Redneck's hand grappling skills for a test drive, seeking to find an opening in that defense and get a firm grapple locked on.

12:35 Mat_Rock: Ah, I should've known. I mean, deep down I'm sure I did. I love to fight. I mean, I love my job, but I also love this kind of fight. Sport. Contest. I don't know the exact moment in the last few seconds that most of my anger drained away, or at least got temporarily lost in the joy of a good fight. Probably as soon as I could tell Poshie didn't suck. But I don't feel angry at the whole world at the moment. Don't know how to even begin thanking him for it.

12:35 Mat_Rock: And it's not like I'm not still going to kick his lily white ass.

12:35 Mat_Rock: He comes in handfighting, looking to grapple. Big mistake, Poshie; you think I can box? Jiujitsu is my game. I handfight back, feinting tie ups... until his right arm is leading juuuust enough. Then my left hand clamps down on his right wrist, my right shooting between his arm and body to grip his tricep, and explode through an arm drag, pulling myself to him as much as him to me, pivoting clockwise as our hips pass, stepping behind his right ankle and driving us to the mat in another judo throw, releasing my wrist grip as I come down in top side control.

14:23 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Me and the Sarge play handsies for a bit, I'm pushing in hard looking for that opening, then suddenly Sgt. Redneck's got a death grip on my right wrist, then everything happens too fast for me to counter, all that powerful American muscle pulls me in tight towards him, his right arm shooting up for an iron hard grip on my thick tricep, then it's all a matter of speed and gravity, as I find myself once more judo tossed hard to the mats. I take the fall as best I can, but the Yank has plenty of muscle and the blow knocks a bit more starch out of me, slowing me down just enough that I can't prevent the fireplug American from establishing top side control.

14:23 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Damn. He's very, very good. But, if I'm honest with myself, the feeling of all that thick, beefy Yankee muscle driving down onto my chest and those battleship sized arms wrapping under my arm and behind my neck is far from unpleasant. For a split second I relish the intimacy of the close contact, and then smoothly, instinctually, with power and speed, I explode.

14:23 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I pull my arms in tight, next to my head, then simultaneously drive my right hand into the side of the Sarge's thick bull neck, and my left hand into the American's hip. My core ripples with power, sending a burst of strength through my muscle, pushing the fireplug straight down towards my hips, straining his grip around my neck. Then, in a surge of speed and power, my left hand releases his hip, I bridge up, my left foot planted firmly to the mats, throwing my left hand over Sgt. Redneck's right arm as it's wrapped around the back of my neck, twisting my body, posting my right hand, driving the top of his head towards the mat, driving my left side into his thick chest, then flipping him over, completely reversing the side control so now I'm in top side control.

14:23 Corporal_Sam_Mason: This would have been very dicey with a heavier opponent, but the fireplug Sarge is the perfect size to pull this off, and it's a joy to feel his thick muscled body flip over and smash to the mat. I keep my base solid, beginning to plan out my next move, instinctively looking to keep myself from getting thrown like I just managed to throw the Sarge, all as I grin down into his handsome face, eyes sparkling with the joy of the fight. I didn't even realize, in the process of reversing the side control, my dick rubbed against Sgt. Redneck's body, and it's stiff as a steel spike.

16:26 Mat_Rock: Dammit. I landed with my weight too far over and before I could set my base, I feel this bundle of hard muscle flex under me and blast me right over! Jesus, but he feels good. I can feel my 9" of Marine meat throbbing to full attention as our bodies flex and grind together.

16:26 Mat_Rock: Poshie is too well set up to pull the same trick, but the beauty of bottom side escapes is, if they're not so far across you that you can flip them, then they're in the right place to bridge and shrimp, which is exactly what I do. My strong hamstrings and glutes BLAST my hips upward against his pressure as I frame against his body with my forearms, then a quick shrimp, pivoting back in as soon as the space is opened... a heartbeat later and I've got this strong, explosive muscle bound Brit in my full guard, his thick man meat hot and hard against my tailbone.

16:26 Mat_Rock: I sit up quick, keeping tight to him with my legs, reaching over his right shoulder with an overhook, grabbing up that wrist again with my left hand and looking to lock up a kimura grip!

20:19 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Fast and strong, the Sarge hips up, twists and spins, pushing off me with his forearms, once again showing off his skills and training, locking me up tight in a full guard. I tense my core, feeling those incredibly thick thighs lock around my midsection. My stiff manhood is surfing right against Sgt. Redneck's tailbone. Damn... My eyes open wide at the close contact. I'm pretty certain that I have an answer to one of my suspicions, I'm thinking that this redneck Marine might just be as into me as I am into him.

20:19 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I posture up, hard and tight. I get a good feel and look as the American Marine's abs crunch and he sits up hard, exploding reaching over my right shoulder, and going to grab my right wrist. As soon as I feel the muscled Marine start to sit up, I pin my right arm hard against my side, not leaving any space for the jarhead to reach under my arm for my wrist, digging my elbow into his thigh, using sheer muscle to resist any attempt to pry my arm open, my thick right bicep flexed hard as steel.

20:19 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Then, while he is distracted with the attempt to sink that kimura in against my right arm, I suddenly blast the palm of my left hand down to the inside of his right knee while his guard is loosened, trying to use the opportunity to slide my right knee over his left thigh and transition to a half guard. Both of us fluidly exchanging move and counter move in a dance far more masculine, aggressive, and erotic than any that takes place on a dance floor.

12:20 Mat_Rock: A classic counter to full guard attacks, the stud postures up hard. I can feel him looking for a knee cut pass, so I change course and take advantage of the vulnerability of tall posture, and just keep reaching past that shoulder, my hips following through as my feet snap to the mat and I DRIVE THROUGH at a slicing angle, taking advantage of his high posture to blast through a hip bump sweep!

12:20 Mat_Rock: This guy is top notch. I won't get to really know his skills until we work a mission together, but he can fight, he's confident and smart and tactical, and he wouldn't be here if he weren't a solid warrior. Well, now that I'm satisfied he's not just riding his brother's coat tails.

12:20 Mat_Rock: Speaking of riding... as I sweep him over and come to full mount, dropping tight to maintain control and prevent sweeps, our hot and sweat-soaked, muscle-thick, flexing bodies are pressed together, skin on skin, I can feel his manhood, as long, hard, thick, and throbbing as my own as they press together... so, Poshie likes strong, tough dudes.

12:20 Mat_Rock: Maybe this is gonna work out OK after all.

12:20 Mat_Rock: I tuck in close, sliding my left arm across his body, staying tight but moving easily, lubed by sweat, to grip his left wrist, my right arm coming under his left arm to grip my own wrist and lock up an americana. We're nearly face to face as I begin to lever it. "You," I grunt, grinning, "are a handful, bro."

13:58 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Got to admire this Yank's speed and skill. He pulls off a picture perfect hip bump sweep just I blast his left leg open to pass, taking advantage of my high posture.

13:58 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Suddenly, I find myself in a full mount position, the Sarge's thick, heavy muscle covered in sweat driving hard against me, and when I feel his thick stiff cock rubbing against my tight, flexed body I grin. Oh yes. This is going to be all kinds of fun.

13:58 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I don't fight too hard when he goes for the Americana. I just wait for my opportunity. When he slides his right arm under my left tricep, just as he makes contact with his wrist, my muscle surges into action. In one fluid explosion of muscle, I bridge up, forcing Sgt. Rednecks weight forward onto his arms as they are locked up around my wrist, then my right hand smashes into his left hip as I twist counter clockwise from my hips, flipping the thick American muscle beast right over onto his back, pulling my left elbow in to break the Americana, grinning down at him as I'm in his guard now. "You're a handful yourself, bro. But you haven't seen anything yet."

Published: 2020-08-01, viewed 78 times.