Ambush by J.M. Snyder
None of the soldiers can pronounce his real name and few care to try. But an MP called MacMurphey nicknames him Triage because he often hangs around the MASH tent when the wounded are brought in. Triage is curious and hungry, and not just for food.

War may be raging in the jungle but men still have needs. What happens when Triage ambushes MacMurphey to fulfill those needs?



By midday, heat baked off the jungle in waves that warped the still air and stunned the human mind into a dull stupor. Triage hid in the hot bush, silent, his breath thin and shallow as he peered through the leaves at Mac. The day was eerily quiet -- no artillery firing in the distance, no choppers cutting through the air, nothing that gave any indication they were in the midst of battle. The only movement came from the soldier picking his way through the low brush, kicking rocks as he wandered away from his camp.

From the shadows, Triage watched. And waited.

When he was sure no one followed Mac, Triage slipped closer, moving through the undergrowth with a stealth common to his people, but that the Americans were unable to counter. Closer, closer, Triage crept around branches without rustling their leaves, his bare feet silent over stunted grass. Mac was turned from him, unaware he was being hunted. Another step, and another, and Triage coiled into himself at the edge of the foliage, ready to strike.

With a rush of sound, he leapt from the jungle and threw himself at the American. His arms caught Mac around the waist in a spectacular tackle that knocked them both to the dusty ground. As Mac rolled over beneath him, Triage clambered onto the man, straddling him, pinning him down. Fear flashed through those blue eyes like lightning before a storm.

Then Mac recognized his crooked grin, and laughed. “You! Jesus, scare the shit out of me, will you?”

“Got you,” Triage said.

The scent of the soldier beneath him inflamed his senses, and what had been a slight erection at his crotch stiffened into a full-blown hard-on. Staring into those blue eyes, Triage moved his hips slightly, grinding his cock against Mac’s groin. His dick hardened, caught between the press of their bodies, and after a moment or two, he knew Mac could feel his thick length. There could be no question about his intentions.