Thank God for Dave

    - In loving memory of Reverend Sam, who assuredly changed my life

Alas.
I am not a good soldier.
I abandoned my post.
I went to my CO’s private washroom.
I stroked off thinking of the CO’s daughter.
I got my nut thinking of his wife.
I washed up.
I decided to go to the bank.
I needed to deposit some drug money.
I decided to stroke off again half way to the bank.
I reached for my dick.
I made a gut-chilling discovery.
I had left my dick in the CO’s private washroom.
I had left it on the sink counter.
I faced a choice.
I decided money was more important than my dick.
I continued to my bank.
I got to my bank.
The bank was closed.
I knew my dick was in trouble.
I knew it was my fault.
I hurried back to my post.
I hurried back to the CO’s private washroom.
I went inside.
My dick was gone.
I looked for it in the garbage can.
I looked for it out the window.
I looked for it down the sink.
I reached for it down the toilet drain.
I still didn’t have my dick.
Oh well.
I would need to get a new one.
I would be able to fool my wife.
At least for a few weeks.

Then I had a disturbing thought.
What if someone else had taken my dick?
What if my CO had taken it?
What if the CO’s secretary had taken it?
What if a foe had taken it?
What if a friend had taken it?
I had left my dick in a politically vulnerable position.
If someone had taken my dick, would they know it was my dick?
It didn’t have my name on it.
But it was covered with my fingerprints.
It wouldn’t be hard to figure out whose dick it was.
It could have been found only by friend or foe.
It was possible I was going to get fucked in the ass by my own dick.
I was powerless.
I couldn’t say anything.
I could only wait.
I didn’t have to wait long.
Only half an hour.
Talk about fuckin’ lucky.
My co-worker Dave had it.
Dave was a friend.
Dave turned out to be a good friend.
Dave had sucked my dick many times.
He knew it like the back of his hand.
He gave it back.
Without wanting to put in my ass.
Without wanting to suck it.
I let him suck it anyway.
I knew he wanted to.
I was happy to let him.
Even though Dave’s not my type.
But Dave, is a good, good friend.
Thank God for Dave.
Thank God for friends.
A soldier can’t have too many friends.
One foe is too many for a soldier.
And I’m not a good soldier.

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