The Squad

Kenny Jefferson was a thin man, nearing 70 years of age, with dark black skin and a shaven head. In the war, he'd been a "tunnel rat," sent into spider holes with a Smith and Wesson .357 magnum revolver and a flashlight to flush out Charlie. He'd killed a man using only his entrenching tool, another with his bare hands. He got his ticket home when he was on patrol and tripped a boobytrap that sent bits of a Chinese grenade through his guts, perforating his small intestine and destroying his galbladder. As he lay in the mud, he saw the Viet Cong soldiers erupt from the bush, murder in their eyes and aiming for his buddies. Kenny pulled his Smith and Wesson and sent three of them to Hell, saving his squad from an ambush even as his vision faded to black. When he got back home, a young, beautiful woman with red hair had spat on him, called him a baby killer; a murderer. He never recovered. He'd been on the streets for almost 20 years now, unable to hold down a job for his drinking and occasional wild outbursts.

And now he was here, his cock out as he took position behind Faye. He couldn't see her face, but he could remember that stuck up hippy bitch just fine. Something came over him as he felt her warm, inviting sex slathering up his hardening cock. Cole was enjoying her pouty lips around his thick member. Kenny wasn't quite as gifted in that department, but was inches beyond the average white boy. He pressed his smooth cockhead against her asshole, and to his surprise, she speared herself on it just as he started to push. Half his 9 inch cock slid into her, just as he wished he'd been able to do with that stuck up bitch half a decade ago. He gritted his teeth, and pressed forward. Faye seized up as she felt his righteous indignation pierce her bowels. She pulled her mouth off of Cole to protest, but another hard, deep thrust left her words choked off in a high pitched squeal.

Jack Bradshaw saw the scene before him, and let out a deep, throaty laugh. Jack was, in his youth anyway, a cowpoke from Iowa. His pale white skin spotted from too much drink, he took Cole up on his offer and picked two little blue pills from a candy dish, washing them down with whiskey from his pocket flask. Bradshaw had done alright by his friend's standards and worked as an auto detailer at a local used car lot. Jack "The Joker" sat on the couch, letting that blessed blue pill work its magic as he saw Faye being pounded from either end like a hog on a spit.

"Iron" Mike Jackson was a brutish man of mixed race; his father a white police officer who he never knew and his mother a mixed race Black/ Hispanic rape victim. Mike spat and cursed under his breath when he saw that Kenny had gotten to her ass before he could. Unlike the other men in the room, he was the only one that had been drafted into 'Nam; and also unlike them, he earned every curse and putdown the hippies had thrown at him. His nickname wasn't always "Iron", it used to be "Merciless Mike" before he took a dozen rounds from an AK 47 to the back before turning and killing the Viet Cong bastard with a tire iron during the Tet Offensive.

"Iron" Mike didn't waste any time. He walked right up to the trio, and pulled Faye's hair hard. "Hey mister I wanna serve the troops but that kind hurts so if you could Ummph!" was all she could get out before he rammed his cock into her mouth. Cole stepped back, his hand over his chest.

"Thanks, guys." he said, slumping into a chair and trying not to hyperventilate. "Iron" Mike wasn't just letting her suck him, he held her head and was fucking her face as Kenny rammed his big, black cock into her asshole. Faye was gagging, slapping Mike on his bloated stomach as Kenny's fuckpole speared her over and over. "Is Frank comin'?" Cole asked, watching as Bradshaw was awkwardly sliding underneath her, his own hard prick easily sliding into her hyperstimulated sex.

"You didn' hear? Frank passed." Bradshaw said, sighing as his cock slid all the way into her. Cole hung his head, and a bleak smile parted his face.

"Well, this one's for Frank!" he said, popping another Viagra as he watched his old squadmates relentlessly fuck this buxom young philomele. Cole stood up, and ripped open his fridge. Inside was a bottle of Jack Daniels. He took a long, deep swig, slammed it back on the tray, and turned. "A'right Miss Faye. Guess we'll have to double up. One o' you...get small; I'm goin' in." he said.

Faye's eyes went wide when she saw Cole advance again, all of her holes being brutally fucked, and wished she'd had just a bit more coffee.