Army Invasion

Only three people know about what happened in Deborah's room that night. Me, Greg and Army. I'm sure that the people standing outside in the corridor, including Deborah herself, saw or at least heard some of what was happening, but I never heard it talked about and there's no way that I would ever mention anything to Greg or Army about it.

Nevertheless, I think about it from time to time and I guess I still feel a bit guilty for getting turned on by the memory of it.

It happened like this. I'd been out with Army and a few of his mates from the university rugby team celebrating a victory. Lots of drinking - I mean really lots of drinking - lots of loud smutty songs, lots of curry and then a fair share of vomiting. Not exactly a sophisticated night out, but there you go.

I was in my first year at uni so making me 18. I wasn't on the rugby team - rugby has never been my thing - and I knew Army because we lived in the same block at the university residence. I didn't really know him that well: in fact, I can't remember how or why he'd invited me out. I knew that his nickname, Army, was short for Stephen Armstrong, and that he was doing an engineering degree, but beyond that I was a bit vague. He was a big guy - about six foot four - with short black hair and a rough, macho face. Chiselled features I guess you'd say.

Anyway, on the way back to the university flats, Army suggested that we drop in on his girlfriend in a nearby hall of residence. The two of us had separated from the rest of the group - I vaguely remember that most of the team had staggered off to a nightclub convinced that females would be irresistibly attracted to raucous, belching, vomit-soaked rugby lads. Army was also fairly drunk, I guess, but to his credit, wanted to see his girlfriend and, I'd guess, stay over with her for the night.

I made my excuses and said I'd see him in the morning. I was getting a bit bored by him. Army's conversation revolved around sport or tits. He occasionally brought up tennis and seemed pleased that conversations about this enabled him to combine both of these interests. However, he was adamant that I had to meet Deborah. He was very pissed and in a "Seb you're my best mate" frame of mind and insisted that we go up to Deborah's room for one last beer. I suppose he was enjoying his night out and wanted it to last a bit longer.

So we headed up to Deborah's room. Army kept saying that she bound to have some beers in the fridge. I doubted that he needed any more beer - the guy could hardly get himself up the stairs in the residence - and hoped that Deborah and I could persuade him to have a coffee once we'd got to her flat.

Inside the flat, the corridor was dark. The flickering light from a TV shone through the frosted window of the kitchen door and we headed towards it. I opened the kitchen door and saw about six people sitting round watching something on TV in the dark. Clive Anderson I think. They looked at me and then at Army. He said, "Hey, wassup?" or something.

One of the girls whooped with delight at seeing him, squealing, "Army! Sweetie! How's my big rugger bugger?" He made some conversation with her and it became clear that this was one of Deborah's friends, rather than Deborah herself as I'd first suspected.

At one point she asked, "Who's the blond bombshell?" She was looking at me.

I felt a bit shy.

Army said, "Oh this is my mate. Seb."

She said, "Hi Seb." Then she gave me a really nice smile. She looked really cute. I later found out that her name was Helen. I smiled back but there must have been a commercial break or something because the TV, and hence the room, went dark. I worried that she wouldn't have seen me acknowledge her. Might have thought I was weird or something.

Then an advert came on and the room lit up again but the conversation had changed. One of the guys was saying that Stephen Fry had come across as a pompous wanker on the programme that they'd been watching. Helen looked back at the TV, perhaps unaware that the interview had finished.

Army pulled me out from the kitchen and staggered down the corridor, leading me. We got to one of the rooms and he gestured that I should be quiet. He smiled. He had a nice smile. Broad and genuine. He whispered, "She might be asleep. Sometimes gets tired."

Just then the sound of a guy's laughter came from the room. Army's face changed. His smile changed to a frown within a second. He looked at the door. Maybe thinking he'd got the wrong room. Then he looked back towards me.

I didn't know what to say so I just looked back at him.

The sound of a girl's voice came from the room. Then the guy's laughter again.

Army looked at the door again. I don't know what he expected to see on the door, but he really stared at it, as if scanning it for clues.

I was aware that for Army, this situation was difficult. For me to find that my girlfriend had another guy in her room would not have been a problem. In fact, it's pretty common at university for people to work together or exchange lecture notes or whatever. So it wouldn't have been an issue for me. Not at that stage.

But Army was already jealous as hell. His body had tensed up. His eyes were wide open and his lips pursed in concentration. All sorts of scenarios must have been darting around inside his head.

Abruptly, he tried the door. Almost yanked the handle off. The door was locked. I suppose at that point suspicions might have started formulating in my mind, but to Army this was like concrete proof of infidelity. He banged on the door with his fists, and shouted, "Open this fucking door."

I wanted to be out of there. I thought his outburst was totally unprovoked and felt embarrassed by him. I still thought it most likely that Deborah was having a perfectly innocent conversation with a guy from her course or some such person and that she would come out from her room and have a go at Army for being a dickhead. I didn't want to be there to see them quarrel. I backed down the corridor a bit.

However, the door didn't open.

He continued banging on the door and then, to my amazement, started hoofing it with his foot. It was like he was out of control, shouting and swearing about Deborah being a slut. The kitchen door opened and one of the guys came out into the corridor to see what was going on.

Just then the door opened slightly and Deborah looked out of the thin crack saying, "Christ Stephen, you'll break the fucking door." Her voice was a bit odd. As if she was trying to make it sound like she was tired or had been sleeping.

Army stepped back from the door. I could see, by the dim light from the desk lamp behind her, that Deborah had a white robe pulled around her apparently naked body.

Army said, now sounding more controlled, "What's going on?"

Deborah said, "Nothing."

She paused.

Then she said, "I was sleeping."

Bad move.

Army kicked the door open. As it fiercely swung open it caught Deborah's chin and she was pushed back into the wall. He pushed his way into the room and switched the overhead light on. From my position it looked like the room was empty. Army walked right in and looked around it. 

Even then, I really thought it likely that there had been a misunderstanding: that Army would end up having to apologise and would look like a dork. Explanations as to the source of the guy's laughter presented themselves: an echo from the kitchen, someone in a neighbouring room, the distorted sound of Deborah snoring or murmuring in her sleep.

But then Army found what he was looking for. I would guess that, in time-honoured tradition, Greg had been hiding in the wardrobe. I don't know for certain, but it would explain the fact there was about ten seconds of silence from the room after Army entered, and then a sudden shout of "You fucking... fucking... cunt."

Deborah went back into the room. She said something like, "No, Stephen, don't" and was shouted at by him. She said something else and there was a loud slap. She came running out of the room looking tearful and clasping her cheek. She pushed me out of the way as she headed for the kitchen.

I heard a male voice from the room that wasn't Army's. He was saying, "Please... I didn't mean to hurt you. It was just a one-off... Please..."

I walked into the room and saw Greg, who was naked, being held by his neck against the wall by Army. Army's eyes were blazing and his face was red. He looked like he was angry and strong enough to snap Greg's neck. Greg looked terrified. 

I knew Greg from basketball. He didn't play. It was more of a friend-of-a-friend thing. He came to matches sometimes and we'd see him in the pub. He was a Literature student: very academic looking. Round glasses, floppy brown hair. Quite tall - about six foot, I think. Standing naked in front of Army he looked thin but well-proportioned. His chest was smooth and hairless and his pubic hair thin around his small limp cock and balls. He looked almost like a boy in front of the large muscular form of Army. He had every reason to look terrified.

Army held him by the neck with one hand and punched him in the face with other. Greg continued pleading with him despite the blow. Army hit him again in the cheek. The blow sounded dull.

I said, "Army. Don't."

He turned to me and shouted, "You can fuck off. Or you'll fucking get it too." It was clear that he had no qualms about also punching me, the guy who had been, five minutes earlier, his best-ever mate.

He hit Greg again. Greg kept saying, "Please... please..." His eyes were closed.

Army shouted, "You were fucking my girlfriend. And now you can't even fucking fight. You're a fucking faggot. You're worse than a fucking faggot." He punched Greg again. Greg just took it.

Then Army pulled back. Left Greg supporting himself against the wall and me looking on. Greg continued muttering, "Sorry... sorry..." Army stared at him.

Army said, "Get dressed you faggot."

I wondered why Army was using the word faggot as an insult in this context. It seemed odd for him to choose that word given that Greg had just been having sex with Army's girlfriend.

Greg walked over to the desk and put his glasses on. Then he walked to the bed and bent down in front of it to pick up his underpants.

Army walked up behind him and thrust his hips into Greg's bare bum cheeks. He said, "Bet you like that don't you faggot."

Again the word faggot. I couldn't understand why Army was trying to suggest Greg might be gay. It just didn't make sense to me.

Greg didn't respond. He started putting his right foot into the leg of his briefs.

Army pushed him forward. Greg lost his balance and his upper body fell onto the bed. His hands were still around his feet. Army held onto Greg's waist and thrust his groin into Greg's buttocks again. He growled, "I fucking said... 'I bet you like that don't you'. Now fucking answer."

Greg said, "No I don't."

Army smiled. Not a particularly nice smile. He said, "You fucked my girlfriend. Now I'm going to fuck you."

Greg tried to wriggle out from under him. It was the first defiant movement he'd made. Army held him firm. He put one hand on Greg's shoulders and pinned him down onto the bed with ease. Greg looked over his shoulder at Army. Greg didn't look scared: he looked confused.

I think both Greg and I thought this was a parting gesture of Army's so that he would feel he had reasserted himself. To feel he'd made his point good and proper. I don't think either of us took what he said literally.

Army held Greg down against the bed and continued moving his hips against his naked bum. He kept saying, "You fucking like that, don't you. Bet you fucking love that..."

Greg struggled to free himself again but Army was a lot stronger than him. His grip was very firm.

Greg said, "All right I'm fucking sorry. Okay?"

Army didn't acknowledge that he'd heard anything. He kept muttering obscenities to Greg. "You fucking faggot boys love it up the arse... You love feeling big cocks up your arses don't you..."

I wondered what Army was doing. Was he trying to humiliate Greg by getting him to admit - albeit dishonestly - that he was gay?

Army loosened his grip on Greg's waist and pulled down his flies. Greg took the opportunity to struggle again, but Army pushed him down against the bed forcibly.

Even now I thought this was just a gesture by Army to debase Greg for what he'd done. I really didn't expect him to go through with it.

Army pulled his cock out from his jeans. It was very large and very hard. I don't know how long. Bigger than mine and a lot thicker. A real donkey dick. Maybe nine inches long. The stem was thickly veined and his foreskin was pulled right back, even as he pulled it out through his flies. His red bell end was large - a lot wider than his stem - and very wet. Immediately he pushed his large cock in between Greg's cheeks. Greg struggled again - now it was dawning on him that this was serious - but again Army held him firm against the bed.

"You like this nancy boy, don't you?"

I said, "Army. He's had enough."

He turned on me, his face savage, and shouted, "JUST FUCK OFF!"

Then he turned to Greg's body, bent in front of him, and repeated, louder, "You fucking like this, don't you?"

Greg said, "I'll say I like it. Okay. Now let me go. Please."

Army pushed forward. Greg tried to move forward as well but Army held him firm. Finding that there was no way in, Army repositioned his cock with his hand, moving it a little lower in Greg's arse cleft. I noticed that Greg's cleft was slightly hairy. Just a few fine brown hairs poking out from it. His cheeks were very white and he had a few small pink blemishes close to the area where his hole would be. Army found his target and pushed forward again.

Now Greg looked back over his shoulder again, this time his eyes wide in panic. He looked straight at Army and said, "You're in my fucking hole. Please!"

Army pushed again, thrusting his hips. He said, "You fucking love it!"

Greg struggled again and said, "Please! I'm not gay! I've never done this!"

Army grabbed Greg's right hip firmly and pushed himself in further. Pain flashed across Greg's face. Now he shouted, imploring Army to stop.

I moved forward and tried to pull Army away from Greg. Army pulled his hand off Greg's hip and punched me in the nose so rapidly that I wasn't able to anticipate it at all. Then he replaced his hand on Greg's hip. The force of his punch was incredible. I reeled backwards and fell against the wardrobe. Blood gushed out of my nose.

I said, my voice sounding shaky, "Army. Leave him. Please."

He turned to me, eyes still wild, and said, "You want more? Just fuck off."

He continued pushing his cock into Greg's arse. It clearly wasn't going to be an easy fit. Greg really thrashed around on the bed trying to get him off.