The Captain and his Privates
Based on the story by ManOfSteel which accompanied his renders of the "Army Guys", on Renderotica.
This story has been synthesized from the writings of ManOfSteel, the author John, and Sean Reid Scott. Compiled by Sean Reid Scott. Image Renders by ManOfSteel.
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PART TWO
AT A FEW MINUTES BEFORE 1800 hours, Kenny, Sam and I set out for Cap's quarters at the far end of the base. As we walked, almost in reverent silence, I thought about that first day--the day that ruined me forever--when I came to Company C.
I'd gotten my bunk assignment from the master sergeant, and was unpacking my bag when Kenny and Sam approached me. They totally skipped over the introductions and went straight to the subject at hand: "Have you seen the captain?" Kenny'd asked.
I said I hadn't seen him yet.
Kenny and Sam exchanged tentative glances, then Sam said, "So, you haven't met him yet?"
"No. Why?"
Kenny blurted out, "Dude, just make sure you don't fall apart, okay?"
"What?" I asked.
"When you first see Captain McAllister, you're gonna want to just fall apart, man," Kenny said. "He's beyond anything you could ever imagine."
"What do you mean?"
"There's nothing I can say to prepare you," Kenny continued. "Just try to keep it together, dude."
"Don't say we didn't warn you," Sam added.
At that moment, the barracks' door flew open. I turned my face to the door, and that's when I first saw him. The image has been indelibly seared into my mind. And actually, it was just his silhouette that I saw at first: His upper body and his legs filled the entire barracks door, and his waistline narrowed... the imagery of an "hour glass" doesn't do the description justice.
Someone called out, "`Ten-HUT!" and all of us immediately snapped to attention.
Cap stepped into the room and said, "Where's the newbie?"
"Sir, over here, sir," Kenny called out. At first I felt like he'd given away the position of his own man, but I instantly realized that you couldn't not respond to the captain's request. He made that impossible.
The Cap strolled over to my bunk. The only thing I remember about myself at that moment, was that I swallowed real hard. So hard my throat hurt. Everything else I remember is about Cap. He stood at least six and a half feet--probably more. Probably a lot more. I learned later that he's not one to give out specific numbers about himself, so the best we've been able to do is to make a mark on one of the door jams and try to memorize where he came to when he stood there. We've pretty-much narrowed it down to six-six or seven, but it doesn't surprise me that I thought he was much taller than that. He's kinda imposing.
And like I said in the previous chapter, it was his chest that made the biggest impression. Well, maybe his arms too. And his goddamn door-busting shoulders. Well, okay, his legs are indescribably gigantic too. Damn, there's nothing about him that doesn't make you want to literally fall apart--just like Kenny and Sam said. But when Cap'n stopped right in front of me, it was definitely his goddamn fucking huge chest that made me want to cry. It hovered right in front of my face. And those nipples of his pushed out, making two thick points in his uniform shirt. He just stood there, and I just gawked.
"Private! They teach you to salute a senior officer back in boot camp?" he barked.
Fuck. I nearly pissed my pants right then and there. Clumsily, I snapped my hand to my forehead. He waited a moment to release me from the salute. His fucking gigantic arm slowly raised. When he gave the return salute, all I could see was that enormous, beefy, rippling, thick forearm.
We both lowered our arms simultaneously.
And still, his pecs hovered in front of my eyes. Those nipples! Such erotically sensual nipples--just taunting me from behind his shirt. And they were exactly at the height of my eyes. A jet-black tuft of hair poked up from his shirt at his neck. His chest was so massive that I remember thinking you could use it as a table--so thick that the place where his pectorals met his neck... it was totally horizontal!
He just stood there, totally still. I suppose he was gauging my reaction, but hell, I didn't know what was happening. All I remember was that he kept his Herculean chest right in front of my eyes. Like he totally knew what he was doing to me. And I'm absolutely positive that he did.
Now, instead of fighting back piss, I had to fight back cum. The man was literally making me fight to contain all of my bodily fluids; I wanted to throw up; I needed to pee; I nearly couldn't keep from jizzing in my uniform. The only fluid I wasn't able to tamp down was my sweat. The Cap'n had me sweating like a pig.
"What's your name, son?"
"B--Barnes... Private First Class Bryan Barnes." I swallowed again. I felt a jab from Kenny's elbow in my back, and realized I had screwed up. "Sir," I finally added.
I have no idea what else--if anything--the captain said during that meeting. That part's a total fog.
But I totally remember after he left.
"You okay?" Sam asked me when the door shut behind Cap.
I was frozen.
"Barnes?" Kenny waved his hand in front of my face. "Private? Barnes? Bryan? You okay?"
I finally blinked myself into the room. I felt my knees give, and my new buddies helped me sit down on a lower bunk. Wasn't even mine, but... whatever.
It was then that I realized that I had only been momentarily successful in warding off the loss of control of my whitest bodily fluid. I could feel the warmth as I sat down. I looked at my crotch and blushed. It was totally dark with the stain I had made. Kenny and Sam chuckled.
"Don't worry about it, man," Sam smiled. "Happens to all of us."
"We're pretty sure he does it on purpose," Kenny chided in.
"Reminds us of the chain of command," Sam added.
"You might want to wear two sets of underwear while you're assigned to Company C," Kenny said.
THAT HAD BEEN MONTHS AGO. Now, after having evening mess, the three of us were descending on the captain's quarters.
Cap's Quonset hut was in a remote corner of the base. His personal Jeep was kept in an enclosed parking spot directly behind the hut.
Once he'd welcomed us inside and closed--and locked--the door behind us, Kenny, Sam, and I stood at attention. The three of us wore fresh camo pants and white T-shirts--casual, off-duty fare.
Cap had apparently showered, like we had. The sweat from running--and posing for us--was gone. He smelled fresh... delicious... so manly. He wore a new wife-beater and some camo pants. Here, in this enclosed setting, he was even more intimidating than before. Maybe it was because he was in his own territory now. Maybe it was his scent. Whatever it was, the anticipation of seeing him take off his clothes again--and letting us do whatever we wanted with that massive, bulging physique--it was driving me crazy.
"Gentlemen," he started with his voice of authority, "I trust you ate well at mess, because you're going to need your stamina." When he ended the sentence, his demeanor transitioned from authoritative to sly and cunning.
He inhaled deeply, expanding his chest in front of us, stretching the bright white cotton fabric to its maximum. For a split second, I wondered if it was possible that he might push the wife-beater apart, just by distending his chest like that. Fucking damn his chest was so big. And gorgeously hairy. I wanted to put my hands on it so bad. And run them over, under, around, and between those mighty, black-haired pecs.
"Yes, sir," Sam answered. "Thank you, sir. Mess was exceptionally tasty tonight."
Cap smiled.
I thought Sam was playing with his words. I'm sure all three of us were thinking the same thing: Mess was hopelessly bland compared to what we were anticipating tasting in just a few minutes.
"Good," Cap continued. "Now, one of the reasons I wanted to move our little contest here to my barracks is because of the way I saw you reacting earlier. I'm of the opinion that some--if not all three--of you might become a bit vocal once we begin. This setting will allow for that without danger of... interruption," he said.
"Yes, sir," Kenny said. We were all still at strict, look-straight-ahead-and-do-not-alter-your-gaze attention.
Cap then said: "Alright men, to review our little wager: You have two hours to make me come. No holds barred."
"Sir?" I asked for clarification.
"That's right, private. Nothing is off the table. If I can't handle it, I shouldn't be making this little bet with you three."
I smiled. "Yes, sir."
His eyes glinted. "However, I would like to add an additional aspect to our little bet."
"And what would that be, sir?" I asked.
"During the two hour timeframe we have established, if all three of you come, while working your best on me, then the contest is over. And I win."
The three of us exchanged glances.
"But all three of you must come for the contest to be over," he reassured. "Three against one. That sounds more than equitable, doesn't it?"
On the surface, yes, that sounded more than fair. Yet, just looking at him, and knowing the effect he had on me--on us--made me question the scheme.
He sensed our hesitation. "Surely, men, you must have some willpower! Do you think that all three of you will come before you force me to?"
Fuck. It definitely didn't seem out of the question, now that I thought about it. The man was muscle sex defined. If Kenny and Sam were anything like me--and I knew they were--Cap might indeed make us come first.
I bit my lip while I considered the proposition.
Kenny leaned close and whispered to me, "Why the hell not. I mean, it's all three of us that have to come. I think we can do it."
Sam joined in: "And even if we loose, what a thing to loose to! I mean, holy hell!"
I sighed. "Agreed, Captain. We accept your terms."
"Good," Cap smiled. "Alright. At ease, men."
The three of us spread our stances and grasped our hands at the small of our backs.
Captain McAllister stepped close to his hospital-corners made bed. It wasn't a cot like the rest of us got. Even other captains had cots. Not McAllister though. He must know someone (very well, no doubt) in Stores Requisitions, because his hut was equipped with a huge bed--must've been a king. He'd obviously have an impossible time fitting on a standard-issue cot, so this made sense. But still, I'd never heard of a bed like this being issued.
Instead of ripping his shirt apart like he had before, he pulled at the base of it, and slowly lifted it up, exposing his abs one by one, then pulling it out from his body so he could get it up and over that chest. His muscles bulged with this most glorious movement. Finally, he pulled it over his head and let it fall to the bed.
GoodGodInHeaven. It had only been a few hours since I saw him shirtless, but this felt like the first time all over again. The man was stupendous. He stood there, arms relaxed at his sides, for a moment--ostensibly to give us time to once again try to assimilate the wonder of the over-muscled upper body we were seeing.
Not possible, but it was nice of him to go slow anyway. His magnificent chest rose and fell with his slow, methodical breaths. Damn he was perfection.
I hadn't noticed until now, but Cap wasn't wearing any boots or socks.
He began to undo the zipper of his camo pants. Pulling the opening apart, he exposed his pubic hairs, and then that long, thick shaft began to snake out. He pushed his pants down, struggling to get them over his elephantine upper legs. Bending all the way over, his arms rippled with the effort to divest himself of his pants. Finally, he stood back tall and stepped out of his camos.
He was totally naked once again.
He sensed our flabbergastation. With a slight smirk, he said, "It never gets old, huh, gentlemen? Looking at my muscles?" If any normal man would have said such a thing, I'd have accused him of gross hubris. But considering it was Captain McAllister, it was a totally appropriate statement.
He gracefully lifted his massive arms and placed them behind his head. He put one foot out front, smiled, then exhaled the air from his lungs in a whoosh sound. His skin shrink-wrapped around his big muscles. It was as if the man had no fat on his body--none whatsoever. Muscles popped. His physique was insanely defined.
The muscle man's waistline--already dwarfed by the unspeakable massiveness of his upper torso and the indescribable breadth and bulk of his legs--receded into nothingness. His body exploded with impossible muscle. Cap's facial expression, tight from the effort of emptying his lungs, turned from concentrated effort to smirking understanding as he saw our faces pale, our eyes bulge, and our jaws drop to heretofore unseen depths.
He lowered his arms and put his hands on his hips, tightening his body into the ultimate most muscular pose. Deltoids the size of bowling balls mounded into spheres of gorgeous, broad muscle. A deep cleavage at their base separated each deltoid from the gigantic balls of triceps and biceps muscles below. His body quaked with his effort to tighten every fiber of muscle. Got it was hot when he made himself tremble like that.
He transitioned into a side chest pose. His pectoral spheres bunched, stretched, and undulated. Fucking FUCK. He tucked his grasped hands under that giant chest, and squeezed his immortal body in brutal hardness. His pectorals actually flowed and oscillated, changing shape. Even though covered with that soft mat of hair, his muscles were so lean that you could still see line upon line of fanning pectoral muscle. Eventually he stopped waving his pecs and formed them into bulging moons of hardened muscle. It was like nothing I'd ever even imagined before. His clasped hands under the precipice of his giant chest tightened. He could nearly hide his hands under the overhang--it rested on his hands and forearms, almost concealing them altogether!
Next, with sensual grace he released the pose. He slowly rotated his body away from us, and exposed us to the most amazing assemblage of lumpy, moving, undulating back muscle conceivable. Actually, it was beyond anything you could conceive. His arms rose into a back double biceps, and the relief map of muscle that comprised his back hardened into solid beauty. His biceps blasted higher and higher, and his entire back side--tight wedges of trapezius, quivering mounding ass, bulging hamstrings, and distended latissimus dorsi--they all blossomed into pure man muscle perfection.
The three of us watched in lusting silence. He showed off his magnificent hamstrings and calves.
Kenny and Sam joined me in mumbling many cuss words while the three of us shook our heads in unbelief.
He slowly turned back to us. Continuing to pose and flex, he moved into countless displays of cock-hardening muscle. He appeared to enjoy our rapt attention. And his extending and thickening cock seemed to belie his relaxed nonchalance. I just couldn't comprehend how a man could have genitals as big and stunning as Cap's.
Eventually, apparently satisfied that we'd become reacquainted with his physique--at least visually--he stood relaxed in front of us. He was totally naked--totally throbbing with untold strength and virility.
Sam, Kenny, and I were breathing heavily. And once again, to a man, we each had made wet spots at our crotches.
Cap smiled. He rolled his massive pecs again. "Are you ready, men?"
I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. I heard Sam snort; Kenny coughed. I think I just wagged my jaw.
Cap smiled. Then he shrugged, and opened his palms to us. "Alright then."
Somehow this just seemed right... to provide this monument to masculine muscle with the groping adoration it deserved. Personally, I had long been perplexed as to how people could ever stay away from this mega-physique. I knew what is was like on base: You couldn't not stare at Captain McAllister. He was bigger than life, for sure. Of course, the culture of the military precluded you from being obvious about your admiration--let alone lust--for the Cap's body. But even his superior officers had tells that they were fascinated by McAllister's muscles.
What, though, was it like when David McAllister donned his civvies and ventured into town on leave? What kind of traffic accidents must this man cause--merely by walking down the street? Did he have to fight off the civilians? Men and women? And what about kids? Little boys must always greet him with huge, bulging eyes and wide mouths. I couldn't imagine what I would have been like if, as a teenage boy, I saw this god walking down the sidewalk. What must he do to teenage boys' psyches when they see him. If I have done nothing with my life since I met Cap, other than jerk off to him, what must teen guys do?
CAPTAIN MCALLISTER, IN ALL HIS naked glory, waited patiently for us to move. The scenario was other-worldly. Neither of us seemed able to take a step. Understandably, we were petrified at the opportunity that had been proffered. But speaking for myself, this--being able to touch the captain's muscles--was something I'd fantasied about since the moment I'd first laid eyes on Cap's physique. I wasn't going to let it go to waste.
Cap had preached the idea that a man can control his impulses--any impulses--with just the power of his mind. Cap said that his mind power could fend off any attempts at making him come--no matter what kind of effort someone might put forth to force him into orgasm.
I, for one, harbored no delusion that I could resist that kind of stimulation. Hell, just watching Cap flex all those muscles, only moments earlier, was agony. Just watching him almost made me start jizzing my pants. Could Cap resist having us privates trying to get him off? I kinda doubted it. But regardless, I sure as hell wanted to give it a try.
So, Kenny, Sam, and I found ourselves standing in front of Captain McAllister's throbbing, naked muscle body. We'd seen it, but now it was time to experience what muscle beyond our wildest dreams actually felt like. Cap stood buck naked in front of us, waiting for us to take action.
He opened his hands again and gave us the challenge. Could we make those muscles quiver and quake with desire? Could we find his weakness and make him come?
He shrugged and said: "Well? Take your best shot."
We quickly took off our shirts, and moved in on his naked physique. I don't know what made us overcome our apprehension, but I for one didn't want to risk a Court Marshal for refusing a superior officer's order.
As we approached this epitome of muscular, masculine perfection, our field of vision was totally filled with sinewy, throbbing flesh. For me, I could see nothing but that chest. I'd been permanently damaged by it: It had wrapped itself around my brain the moment I first laid eyes on it, and had smothered my entire existence with its rock-hard, hairy, undulating mass.
Cap's enormous presence allowed plenty of muscle room for all three of us to partake simultaneously. But I wanted that chest. I was ready to shove Kenny out of the way to get to it, but he went down on his knees and went for Cap's cock. Sam moved behind Cap and started running his hands over the god's wide back and shoulders.
The captain permitted us the luxury of touching, rubbing, caressing--and even licking and tasting--every inch of his awesome muscular power and grandeur. First hands, then tongues and then various other body parts nervously tripped across the vein-mapped meat that enshrouded this living shrine to muscle. DAVID 544 I was running my hands back and forth across what surely must be the biggest, most muscular, beautiful, thickest, widest, hairiest chest in the world. I couldn't believe I was actually doing this: feeling the most glorious, hard, warm, hairy chest in the universe. My hands were probably trembling, but I couldn't help it. Back and forth, slowly, I moved my palms and fingers over the matte of black hair, diving my digits into the deep, deep canyon between his pectorals. Sometimes Cap would flex his pecs and trap my fingers between them. When he finally released me and let me pull them out, he would roll those enormous globes of muscle while I moved my hands out to the outer edges and caressed the warm muscle planets.
Cap closed his eyes and smiled faintly. He liked what I was doing. And evidently he liked what Sam and Kenny were doing. His mouth opened, and his head went back.
Right at this point, Kenny managed to stuff the head of Cap's cock in his mouth, and I could see by the movement of his cheeks that he was sucking. This was going to be interesting. If he could barely get the head in now, what was it going to be like when Cap got all the way hard? Kenny pulled his mouth off of it; it was swelling quickly. Kenny licked his lips and tickled the underside of the head with his tongue.
"Unnnnh!" Cap moaned. His eyes flew open and he involuntarily pulled his cock away. His faint smile was suddenly replaced by an expression of shock.
Kenny looked up at me with an evil smile. He had found a chink in the armor.
The three of us worked on him: Kenny--obviously quite experienced in cock worship--tended to that ever-growing penis and Cap's low-hangers; Sam had apparently begun some kind of rimming, or at least some exploration of Cap's ass; I continued to enjoy the masculine and muscular pectoralis majors. I wanted to hold back just a bit: Even though every atom in my being was screaming that I should bring my lips to his pouting--obviously sensitive--nipples, I didn't even fondle them with my fingers at this point. Oh, sure, I ran my palms over them occasionally, but I held back from actually playing with them. Yet.
Cap now had his eyes wide open. He was expressionless though. Too expressionless. As though he was feigning control. Sam had spread Cap's buttocks apart. Cap looked confused. Peeking between Cap's spread thighs, I could see Sam on his knees behind him. He kept moving from Cap's ass, up to the wide back. He explored the monstrous presence of the giant clam sized lats and tapering lines of Cap's brilliant erectors. I could tell that Sam's hands were trembling, just from looking at his face while he moved them up the captain's huge back, then wrapped his fingers around Cap's thick neck to feel the sheer size of it. Then he let his hands slowly move down again, over the mounds of Cap's muscular back. Eventually he cupped those hard, solid, tight muscle buttocks again.
It was obvious that Sam was lost in worship. Layer upon sculpted layer of sweepingly defined ass muscle swirled from the girdled waistline down to the outward sweep of Cap's rear leg biceps. The thickness of his thigh muscles was beyond description and, if not actually being witnessed, beyond belief. Sam felt out the twin pillars of incomprehensible, round leg mass, then spread Cap's glutes and started licking his lips.
And this is what I was thinking about when I had respectfully challenged Cap. What kind of stimulation had he been subjected to? My guess was women so thrilled about being boned by a muscle god that they never found time to explore his body. Or guys so taken with that gigantic cock that they started a hand job on him and just were too mesmerized to stop and do anything else. Regardless, I doubted many of Cap's partners lasted long enough to give him any kind of a challenge.
Did Cap even know where his most erogenous zones were? Surely he must. But I bet he'd never known what it was like to have three young recruits find them and work them--not necessarily hard, but rather... skillfully.
All at once.
Sure, it was entirely possible that some of us might come before he did. Maybe all of us. I certainly had doubts about my own resistance. To be honest, I'd have to admit that my ability to resist Cap's body was pretty much nil. But we were intent on doing more than just feeling out the captain's enormous muscles. We wanted to make sure he came first. And that meant caressing, licking, tickling and fondling every single one of his erogenous zones. The first part, happening now, was more or less simple discovery. Once we ascertained Cap's sensitive spots, we could hone in and concentrate on getting him off.
Looking confused, wide-eyed, as though the sexual lightning Kenny had ignited on his cock was a surprise to him, and without moving his head, Cap moved his eyes sideways now, as though he was trying to get a look at Sam behind him. Now Cap stood in a rather precarious stance. His hips were tilted way back, his butt in the air, pushing back toward Sam's mouth. His arms were at his side. They'd become tense--and hard. His upper body leaned slightly forward; his chest thrust out towards me.
For the first time since I'd met him, I saw Cap look tentative. Timid even. Gone was the swaggering confidence, the unabashed self assurance; he'd quickly become uncertain, even unsure. And I loved it. Before me stood untold pounds of solid, powerful, god-like muscle that had just been reduced to a whimpering, questioning mass of mere mortality.
Still looking confused, and with a nervous smile, he said, "Hey, uh, Sss... Sammy. What the hell are you doing back there?"
And that was the moment I ran the backs of my fingers over his nipples, and coincidentally, it was the exact moment that Sam buried his face between Cap's glutes and pushed at his twitching, puckering hole with his tongue. And finishing out the trifecta of erogenous stimulation, at that instant Kenny went down, twisting his head back and forth and opening his throat to get as much of Cap inside as he could.
"Ohh! Oh, Gnh--ghhhn!"
I teased those gigantic, hard nipples; Sam licked and rimmed Cap's puckering ass; Kenny swallowed and sucked that now totally-hard monster cock. Then, Kenny pulled up and began bathing Cap's shaft and balls with long, wet licks. Without taking his tongue off the underside of that big cockhead, Kenny looked up at me and smiled.
CAP'S ENTIRE BODY TIGHTENED into a mass of unspeakably-defined, trembling muscle. He was fighting. He alternated between closed eyes and wide-open ones. When they closed, you could see he was succumbing to the stimulation. Apparently he liked it. Couldn't help but enjoy it. But then his eyes would fly open in surprise and he'd be working against us. As if he'd suddenly realized that he was supposed to be fighting this, not enjoying it.
He'd squint, and grunt. He'd bare his teeth as he summoned his willpower to resist.
But we had only just begun. It'd had only been minutes since we'd started on him. And there were three of us--only one of him. I knew we could rotate positions, so if any of us got tired (how could a man tire of this?) we could switch to do something else.
In the corner of my eye, Cap's big bed caught my attention. I had an idea. Time for a change of position.
"Hey guys," I said, "Let's get him on the bed."
Cap's eyes widened. "Wha--?"
"No holds barred, sir. That's the agreement."
He acquiesced, and the three of us led him to the big, white mattress. We laid him on his back and each of us resumed our previous areas of attack, but Sam was now forced (such a sacrifice) to work on the two tree trunks Cap referred to as his legs. Kenny resumed licking, kissing, and going down on that wonderful cock. DAVID 297 I bent down and again explored Cap's chest--and those protruding nipples. Cap's oversized chest was right under my face. I tenderly brushed my lips over a taut, quivering finger-like nipple. I exhaled through my lips as they moved over it one way, and then the next. With one hand I explored Cap's stupendous abs. I'd never seen, much less felt, anything like those abdominal muscles. Each extraordinarily-mounded muscle was visibly separated from its neighbor with a deep valley. A soft coating of hair led south to where Kenny was working.
Cap's voice cracked with a groan.
I stuck my tongue out just a bit and moistened the nipple, delicately wetting it in preparation for the next phase. But this phase would take awhile. First his left nipple, then his right, fell under the spell of my worshipping tongue--its caressing presence obviously creating quite a reaction in the big guy. I licked and licked, over, under, around each one. And each one stuck out even more, as if eager to experience more of my lips and tongue. I made sure he was adequately "oiled" with my saliva before moving onto the next phase: wrapping my well-trained, luscious lips around the hard, mouthwatering fruit and suckling. Now it was time to ply his nipples with tender, yet sometimes kneading, contact. My lips began their task of softening these rigid nipples--the objective being to turn them from impenetrable, stiff protrusions into pliable, malleable, warm, compliant breast digits.
I don't know how long we'd been in this position, with Cap on the bed, but at one point Kenny apparently succumbed to the enormous stimulation of sucking the most beautiful, big cock in the land. While I was teasing one of Cap's nipples with a very gentle nibble of my teeth, I heard an expletive as Kenny's mouth popped off Cap's cock. The captain's huge, wet erection slapped down onto his abdominals.
Then Kenny cussed again. I angled my head to see what was happening, and saw that Kenny had previously removed his camo pants--who knows how long ago--and was now holding himself. He raised up to a standing position and with his knees partially bent he commenced to spray Cap's splayed body with a long, steady, unbroken stream of cum.
I pulled my lips off Cap's nipple to watch. Kenny moaned now, with both hands tight around his throbbing shaft. He looked like a firefighter trying to put out a blaze. His jizz sprayed hard onto Cap's gigantic quadriceps--both of `em, and his upper body as well. He came hard--like amazingly hard.
"Fuuuuuuuuck!" he yelled. He stood at the captain's bedside, uncontrollably squirting his jizz everywhere. Most of it landed on Cap's body, although we found more later, on the far side of the bed.
It was the hottest thing to watch--a man cumming without touching himself to get aroused, pushed over the edge of sexual stimulation simply by being in such close proximity with all this lean muscle. It made me even harder--more excited. God it was hot to see Kenny lose all control like that.
I had to double-down on maintaining my own control. It'd be pretty ironic if Kenny's orgasm initiated a domino effect that caused Sam and me to lose it too. Cap would win in one fell swoop. I was determined to not let that happen.
When he was done, Kenny sheepishly looked at me and shrugged an embarrassed "sorry, man" kind of look.
"Well, well, well. That's one down," Cap said, seeming to jump out of his sexual stupor. "Two to go," he smiled. Relaxed on the bed, he brought one hand to his chest and scooped up a glob of Kenny's jizz, then brought it to his mouth. "Mmmmm. Kenny, your semen tastes good. Thanks for this."
Had he merely been feigning his helpless response to our attentions? His pronouncement was lighthearted, yet serious--as if he suddenly had total control of his faculties.
That couldn't be good for our side.
TO BE CONTINUED...