Novel & Cerita Gay Military Story

Sergeant Kane, a battle scarred 36 years old beast of a man, runs his platoon with iron discipline. Private Ryan, a 22 years old cocky and stunning recruit, keeps pushing his every boundary. What starts as brutal correction quickly explodes into raw, secret dominance and desperate need. The taboo runs deep... rank, age, the constant risk of getting caught in a military environment where one wrong moan could end both their careers. Expect sweat soaked uniforms, late night barracks fucks, punishing drills that turn filthy, and real combat missions where adrenaline feeds their hunger.

Gannon pulled out a chair and handed over a water. “Where were we, twelve years ago? My first deployment meant that I was growing testicular fortitude in the Ghan.” “Me too.” Gannon chuckled. “For those first couple of years, I lived and breathed sand, sun, and gunpowder.” In Afghanistan, Gage had been doing the same—he hadn’t paid much attention to developing news in the States. Glancing up from the screen, he elaborated, “A sniper shot her parents—in front of Chantal. Her father died instantly.”

Sometimes I wondered if what I was doing with those men was romantic in nature, or was it just for a show? I didn’t get why they never really got lose themselves with me. One time I listened to Brad telling his friends dating me was like living in a military camp, and my family was the general of the military. I didn’t understand his words at that time, still couldn’t cope with his words.

“I’ve been living in a military camp outside the city. They hired me to work the kitchen. It’s what I’ve been doing for the past six years. Two days ago, the general came to our camp and sent me on a mission to discover what happened to rangers who disappeared a week ago. He gave me the gunpowder to sell in Hell’s Market where the rangers were last seen. I didn’t like it then and I don’t like it now.” “Is it normal to ask someone who works in the kitchen to do something like this?” “I’m the only civilian in camp. He said it was safer for me to try than it was for one of his men.” “That’s bullshit and you know it,” he said succinctly. “I decided yesterday that I wouldn’t be going back. That d

After making sure my family was settled in the capital, Malcolm and I set off for the military camp. There was no scheming or deception, only discipline and order. It felt like I had found myself again, doing what I was always meant to do. The only thing that occasionally unsettled me was the letters Yuvan sent every few days. Every line he wrote was full of longing and regret. To me, they were nothing more than a joke—something to pass the time. I never wrote back. Two years passed in the military camp in the blink of an eye. When war broke out at the border, I went with the troops to defend it.

Maya joins under her own name, because lying on firearm paperwork is both illegal and, more importantly, untidy. She saves the lying for everywhere else. "Previous experience?" the man at the counter asks. "Minimal." Technically true. In her first life, she fired a handgun twice. Once at a target and once at something that used to be a security guard. The first shot missed. The second did not, but only because the dead are inconsiderate about personal space. The man is called Grant. Ex-military, according to the framed photo on the wall and the way he stands like furniture has disappointed him personally. Close-cropped grey hair, flat voice, emotional availability of a padlock.

I quickly ran like a child to them and immediately hugged them. "How are you?" I looked at hubby, as if he was telling you to say that it's okay. The gay man can order tsk, I had a chat with Mommy and Daddy while hubby was busy in the kitchen, he was cooking.

I never had to kick anyone's ass for her, but I would have. After high school, I joined the National Guard. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I would get money for college, plus a few hundred bucks a month. As anyone who has enlisted in the military can tell you, recruiters lie their asses off. This guy assured me, "Oh, if you're in the Guard, you'll probably never get called on to go into a war zone. The last time that happened was back during the Gulf War, and they called up the Army Reserves first." Bullshit.

"When I was 16, I joined the land warfare service of the U.S Armed Forces. My father had been a commander for years and my brother had signed up years before me, I guess you could say that it was a tradition in our family. Once I'd finished the training, I got put on a team with my father as my commander. My brother had also been teamed with me, probably because of our name and who our father was, and I'd been teamed with 5 other men. We were pretty much the dream team, we laughed together, cried together, they were my family. In January 2014, we got put on a mission in Afganistan, we were to check a small village, that had been ambushed, for any survivers. We'd found a few, mostly woman and

At least that is the plan. I went down to baggage claim, to collect my seabags, and garment bag, and suitcase from the carousel. I saw a fellow sailor, in his NWUs, or Navy Working Uniforms, the unmistakable blue digit camo. He had a sign that said “MM1 SW/AW Lee” in big bold letters. Great, I get to travel in civies, and I get picked up by a junior sailor in uniform… Not how I wanted to start the newest adventure of my life. I had several people, who were also collecting their luggage, looking at me like I was insane for having a seabag, or two. People still think that women don’t belong in the military. “Uncultured swine” I grumbled to myself, as someone was staring daggers at me. I star