It was over eighty degrees (27 Celsius) in the tired, cramped bunk-room of our barracks. We were stuck in some random base in the middle of the Mediterranean, pouring years of our lives into manning a military base in case we were ever needed. I had nothing going on with my life back in Wyoming so committing to three years over here seemed like a good way to kill time, and to earn benefits I could use for an education later on. Serving had really made a ‘man’ out of me, lemme tell ya...

Somehow our room seemed even hotter than the air outside. And air conditioning? Hadn’t had that basic comfort in 35 months since the day I left Wyoming. One month to go though, until I was back at home.

Today was my one day each month when I got to skip squad chores. Our group of eight guys was responsible for cleaning and maintaining the armory and its surrounding outdoor area, but we got eight days a month when one of us could take off, rotating it equally. That meant today was my “self-meditation” day.

I slid my pants and underwear down in my bottom bunk and wiggled my little dick around a bit. It looked sad, like me, from only getting some love from my hand for the last three years. I’d finally started fucking a few guys right before I enlisted, unleashing years of pent up closeted gay horniness. I got a few in before I had to ship off halfway around the world; my only date my own hand now.

I heard some thunder rumble in the distance and the sound of rain starting to patter on the roof. I settled into my bunk, hearing the metal frame creaking softly beneath me and the three inch thick mattress, the springs digging into my back.

I’d managed to keep my pubes trimmed, a small act of defiance and personal preference in a place where most guys just let it grow wild. I rubbed pre-cum into my glans and felt the intense sensitivity of a penis that only got some love once a week at best. It only took a minute to get hard; six inches of smooth military meat at mass. I stroked my six-inch dick, cut and hard now, the head smooth against my palm. I let out a low groan, a rumbling sound that matched the thunder outside.

I inverted my hand and squeezed my cock head, rubbing my frenulum in tight, constricting circles with my palm. My abs squeezed in response to the extreme sensitivity.

I was just getting to the good part when the door creaked open.

My hand froze. My eyes snapped open. The light from the hallway spilled in, and for a split second, I was a deer in the headlights, caught completely off guard. My squad leader, Jake, who was a 24-year-old ripped stallion, walked through the doorway, tailed by our newest recruit, Mark. Mark was a dark-skinned 19-year old who’d just joined us a few weeks back.

They were covered in dirt, their camo pants stained with mud, and with sweat slick on their foreheads. The rain must have come down hard, forcing them in early. A wave of embarrassment rushed over me.

Jake’s eyes went straight to my hand, and a slow, knowing grin spread across his face. Mark, however, looked like he’d just seen a ghost. His eyes, wide and dark, darted from me to Jake and back again.