One of the bases to which my team was assigned for restocking was very small and, at the time we were passing through, heavily populated. It was so busy that at one point during our four days there men were sleeping in shifts of three to a bunk.

Fortunately that insanity didn't last too long because most of us were simply there waiting for transport  but I had been working for eight weeks non-stop until then and was beginning to wonder if sex had ever even existed or if my fevered brain had invented it.

The area (and thus the population) was deeply conservative so even finding a woman who would be suitable relief was a slim chance. Usually, in these locations, I'd avoid all contact and wait for a better deployment but thinking clearly was optional after weeks in the same boots and with the same frustrations so I went for a walk.

Small sites such as this one are walled and leaving them is difficult to do, so my theory was that the chances of too many of my colleagues seeing me would be slim if I went out into the town. The food carts were out, so I ate some real food which was a relief in and of itself and then made my way toward the square. Frankly, logic took a back seat. It isn't as if we were unwelcome but some of the locals tend to be wary and ambling around in back alleys no matter how big you are is stupid.

Which is why nobody does.

Which is why it was a surprise to see one of my colleagues in one.

He was in a doorway, shaded by the porch of it, but the boots are a dead giveaway. And between those boots was a local man with overly shiny clothing.

Not usually a voyeur as it doesn't do much for me sexually but amusement and sheer surprise made me stop dead and watch. It was difficult to see anything more than his boots and pants and the local's back and, occasionally, hair but the noises were explicit. He must have been close because I had barely stopped to watch when he went quiet and the man on his knees moaned and swallowed down hard.

Anyone is his right mind would have left, then, but I was tired and frustrated and still laughing to myself that someone had been desperate enough to take the risk so when he said: "Now you." The local shook his head and hurried off and there we were, left staring at each other. 

He stepped out of the shadow and he could have been anyone. Not someone in my acquaintance. Just a dark-haired, medium skinned, short cut, hazel-eyed man with a typical build still in his civvies which still looked like a uniform with how foreign they were. He flushed but it was anger more than embarrassment, tucking himself in and glaring daggers at me as if he was just hoping I'd start a fight.

It was adorable.

Instead, I stepped closer and did my best to relax my body language, palms up. It's difficult to placate people when you're tall but he was on a step, which helped. He simmered down. "What?"

English. Probably Canadian, judging by the accent. Alright, so I spoke English. When he hear me speak his expression went from dark to worse and I had to pull out my fucking card before he would move his hand from his holster, which for some reason struck me as worth laughing over.

Now I rarely laugh out loud but this was a full, rib-aching laugh. Something about this man standing there with his cock still wet in his pants, two thirds my size and threatening me sent me hilarious.

It may also have been the chicken, which was probably not chicken.

Anyway, he calmed the hell down and we finally exchanged actual words. Asked him if he was in a hurry to return and he said no. He asked me when the team had arrived and I told him we had landed less than a day ago.

"Christ." He laughed. "I'd still be sleeping."

"Sleep isn't a good friend of mine." I said.

It was unnecessarily dramatic but he understood. He nodded.

We stood quietly for a few seconds which felt longer before I was sick of being still.

"You want a turn?"

He gave me a startled look and I think it was the first time he realised I wasn't simply being a bro. His eyes were so wide they looked tan and I thought to myself that this day was improving just a bit. He didn't say anything but he also didn't move, so I stepped up onto the alcove and leaned back against the wall. The ceiling was so low that I had to duck my head and bend my knees a bit but bracing on the wall helped. The door was dusty and padlocked so maybe nobody used it. Otherwise I suppose they had quite a radio show through it.

He hesitated, looked to the street both ways, then turned to me and walked over. When he stepped up to join me he was on his knees almost immediately - efficient now that he had a task. He licked his lips and set about unpacking, which is a task worthy of a manual in and of itself with these pants. The way he did it told me it wasn't the first time, either. Or perhaps he was simply a genius with reversing tactical snaps and velcro on the fly, for all I know. We all have our skills.

He seemed pleased when he managed to reach in and I was hard. Let him think it was for him, he didn't need to know it had been that way on and off for days. "You're clean." He grinned, and although he didn't make eye contact I could tell it was fortuitous that I had showered hours before. 

"And clean." I nodded, unzipping a pocket to hand him a condom.

He chuckled, still not making eye contact, and rolled it on without protesting too much. "I can't fit this. I'll try but I know ny limits." He warned.

"Don't care."

With that, the awkward talking was over. To his credit, he barely flinched at the texture of the condom as he began to lick. The ones I use are as thin and flavourless as possible so that helps but it isn't the same and he handled the circumstances like a champ. He wasn't much of a licker. I watched his tongue tease and press a few times but he almost immediately went for the kill. Can't complain about that, not even a bit.

For all he doubted his own abilities, he took the challenge well. Licked his lips and slid on until his teeth caught, then a little deeper once he adjusted. The whole time he was calculating and working on his knees, my selfish side was in the driver's seat. He was hot and soft and every time my head rubbed against his palate my jaw clenched until I was forced to breathe shallowly through my nose as if I was the one with his mouth full.

"Easy." I muttered, fist tightening on my thigh to avoid grabbing as his teeth caught.

He looked up, then, just briefly, and how could anyone ever be sick of that sight? Big eyes, brows tight in a concentrating frown, cheeks hollowed and flushed, nostrils flaring as his lips wrapped around my cock. Perfection.

Apparently my expression was too much because he broke eye contact and closed his but his hand came up to brace on my leg and he pushed himself forward, took me deeper until I felt the hitch in his throat. He tried but after a few seconds of twitching muscles he couldn't hold it and pulled back. "You're close?" He asked.

I debated telling him that the chances of me finishing from this were close to zero but that seemed like too many words so I shook my head and he offered a disappointed little groan so at odds with his appearance that I chuckled, which made him frown even more.

"You don't have to-." I tried to assure him but he was already standing up. Well, it had been fun while it lasted.

"Just keep it quiet." He muttered, pushing himself into the narrow space right up next to me and unbuckling as he turned to face the wall.

Processing what was happening must have taken too long. He shifted, wiggled his hips slightly. It should have been ridiculous - the loose pants designed for navigating forests, not accentuating what he, frankly, didn't have. And yet in that moment with his back to me, ribs flaring under the thin shirt as he breathed quicker, the nape of his neck sunburned and his ears blushing, he was beautific.

Without preamble, I reached for him and tugged the pants but they were still too snug so I reached around him to open a few more snaps and he moaned. He was hardening slowly already. Always admired that refractory period in some men. Envied it. Finally the pants came down just enough and his underwear next. "Y-fronts?" I teased.

He only frowned hard enough for me to feel it in response, so I gave him an apologetic squeeze of the crotch before setting about business. He wasn't a vise on my finger when I licked it and slid it in but he still needed work if he wanted to work tomorrow so I offered him my other hand and he sucked willingly enough on two of those fingers as the first twisted and curled steadily inside him. His breathing was quicker when he let them go and they were dripping nicely so I swapped them in for the other and wiped it on my pants as I fingered him on both digits. The idea wasn't to finish like this and his breathing was growing shallow so I stroked my thumb over the tensed ring just enough to relax it and reached into my pocket. He heard the catch and made a questioning noise so I held out the silicone oil for him to see and he shook his head, braced his forehead against the wall and rummaged in his pockets for a slim tube of something with a chilli pepper on the bottle. "It's your ass." I told him, and took it.

He squirmed when it was applied, the stroke of my fingers working a generous layer inside before I filled my palm and ran it over my shaft to be sure that it wouldn't hurt unnecessarily. As much as rough sex is fun, he was a stranger and it was a busy town. Best not to tempt fate.

What I wasn't prepared for was the unbelievable choked moan which he let out before I'd even pushed in more than the head. He held up a hand as if we'd already been four rounds and breathed deep. I held still, which was at this point close to a sainted act. When he nodded, I pushed again. This time he stiffened and shifted his hips but didn't protest and I was able to use short thrusts to press deeper until eventually he had taken half of it. One of my hands braced on the wall, the other reached around again to cup him fully in my lubed-up palm and squeeze lightly in time with my hips.

It wasn't too long after that that he began to move with me, panting into his own arm against the wall and jutting his hips enough for me to ease the bend in my knees somewhat and the relief of that alone made me buck into him. He arched and forced himself back into the contact and just like that he was accommodating almost all of me. "More?" He asked through breathless attempts to keep quiet.

Pressing the last bit forward until my balls nudged his thigh, I gave his crotch another squeeze and noticed that his belly muscles were shivering against my forearm. That made my cock twitch, which made him moan against his arm. "That's all of it." I smirked, choosing not to resist a tug of teeth to his earlobe.

"Thank fuck." He laughed, and it was shaky.

"Alright?" I asked.

"Fine." He insisted.

Choosing to believe him, my hips resumed and picked up a steady rhythm which seemed to work for both of us, occasionally slowing to let me move my knees a bit. Although my hand stayed on his crotch, fingers tucked into his underwear and buried into soft curls there, he stayed semi-hard and seemed not to mind being ignored up front. Even without much meat on his cheeks, he worked my cock as if he needed it to live. Almost silent apart from the panting and barely moving but his hips angled and his muscles tightened and his thighs went taut enough to break fingers so there was nothing to complain about.

Eventually he began to feel looser against my chest, tired, so I moved the arm propping me up to wrap it around his waist and bowed my head against the wall instead. Sweat was beginning to build up and I was breathing hot and damp against his cheek. He let slip a moan which sounded tired and a well of cum dripped from his softened cock against my hand.

That was what it took. He tensed, muscles quivering with his orgasm, and the pressure sent the frission in me over the edge. With an undignified snort buried in against his hair, I felt my calves tense hard enough to cramp and my cock jerked, splashing into the condom inside his massaging heat. He pushed back, shuddering as he caught his own prostate and another sluggish drop of fluid left him into my hand and his underwear.

Always too sensitive after I finish, I pulled steadily out and he shuffled as if he was about to zip up and leave so I pulled my hand from his pants and slid two of the fingers wet with his seed into him. The moaning protest which left him was deeply satisfying on every level. It was husky and caught his breath when I fingered slowly, firmly against his prostate. He shivered, pushed back into it. Then he went dead still and his breathing stopped altogether for a moment before resuming heavy and shuddering as he tightened around my fingers.

Tugging them out once he relaxed enough, I wiped them off on my pants and pulled his back up enough to cover him again. Still panting, he pushed himself around using the wall and slumped against it, facing me but still not making eye contact. That's common, so I shrugged it off and reached down to fix him up. Once the last fastenings were done, he reached for my pants but I stepped back and did it myself. It wasn't easy because my hands were shaking but he was definitely worse off.

He smiled a bit at that, which was sweet, and slid down to the ground to sit with knees up and arms draped across them. Eyes on his hands.

Determined not to let him feel awkward, I reached down to pat his knee before straightening up. "Need me to stay?"

The determined shake of his head was enough for me to believe him so I left him there and returned as quietly as possible to use my five minutes of cold water.

_