The Lizard

I walk my post in a military manner, keeping always on the alert, observing everything that takes place in sight or hearing, just like I’ve been taught, because I am a good Marine. It’s the middle of the night and I have drawn the most boring post in camp. I’m what they call a “Rover” for the next six hours. I go from post to post making sure everything is in order. Since the “Corporal of the Guard” also serves this function, the “Rover” normally ends up finding a quiet corner of the camp to properly pass out in for a few hours to catch up on some much needed sleep. Sleep is on my mind, but I have a more pressing matter to attend to. My platoon has been on convoy for the past four days and I am about twenty days removed since my last “Combat Jack”, or what civilians call “Jerking Off”.

The Gods favor me tonight for I am under the cover of darkness. The new moon is in the sky, and only a person with Night Vision Goggles could see what I was about to do. Since the Marine Corps is all about saving a penny, not a single Marine in the camp has working NVG’s. My dirty deeds will go completely unseen. I come across a 7-ton in the staging area. A 7-ton is a giant troop/cargo carrying truck with a canvas tarp covering the rear of the vehicle. I sidle up to front driver’s side wheel and unbutton my fly. I keep my finger straight and off the trigger until I am ready to fire. I quickly look into the darkness to check for any passers by, as if I could see anything in the pitch black that cascaded over everything. Every sound I hear makes me freeze like a statue out of fear of being caught. I hear a rustling in the sand that sounds like footsteps. I’ll pretend to be peeing. No one will be the wiser. After a few minutes, I assume the sound was the wind blowing sand against the metal of the truck chassis. I resume my attempt at pleasure. The starting and stopping from every little sound is starting to play havoc with my libido. I slowly become flaccid, but I can’t miss this opportunity, I don’t know when I’ll have the chance again. It’s all become like work now. I lean over and place my forearm against the side of the truck and rest my head against my forearm. I hate “Cracking Stick” while standing up, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Sand covers every crevice of my body. That’s the thing I hate most about the desert...the sand. Sand is everywhere. A thin layer of the gritty sand covers my hands, even still I quickly bring myself to climax and am amazed that I can’t detect a single drop of my discharge anywhere. Baffled by this, I quickly button up my fly and take out my flashlight and investigate the area. As I point the beam of light towards my estimated landing area, I discover a giant desert lizard, with 4 tracks of my precious seed across it’s back. I couldn’t help but think how great it must of felt for that cold blooded animal to have my warm batter all across it’s back. Life is all about the simple pleasures.

I decide to go over to the generator area to catch some shut eye. There is a perfect little tunnel between all the Conex boxes where no one would find me. Much like the first time I masturbated, I get incredibly sleepy, and pass out for three hours. We never really grow up...do we?