Disclaimer: This story deals with mature subject matter and involves intimate and sometimes rough gay sex. If it is illegal for you to read such material, due to your age or location, then please don't. If you are offended by acts of sexuality between consenting and non-consenting adults, then Do Not Read this story.
The author does not necessarily condone or subscribe to the behavior discussed in this story. It was written strictly as a form of entertainment and acts described should not be attempted by anyone that does not know what the hell they are doing. Any similarity with existing persons would be accidentally as the whole story is pure mad fantasy.
The Mission (Part 7)
Chuck, Mike and Lee had gathered in Dwight's office.
"The Sarge is on his way," Tommy had told them.
"You okay, man?" Mike asked Chuck who looked uncomfortable sitting on his sore butt.
"The fucker was just lucky," Chuck grunted defiantly. Not used to defeat, the humiliation of having been fucked by the guy who had date-raped his sister, then by a chubby nerd and finally pathetically disposed of in a dumpster was eating the cocky jock.
"We shouldn't have tried without Dwight," Mike disagreed, "we were fuckin' stupid to move without backup."
"Well, Dwight was, uhm , distracted," Chuck looked accusingly at Lee. "People are tellin' me you enjoyed yourself, that night, huh?"
"I am sorry, Mr. Riley, I had no idea, what was going on. Sergeant Collins agreed and he apparently liked it..." Lee replied apologetically.
"Call me Chuck, that's fine," Chuck said," People tellin' me as well that you had even more fun after you'd screwed `da Sarge, that right huh?"
"What?" Mike asked incredulously.
"Yeah, nice Mr. Asia fucked the Crusher boy raw that night," Chuck sneered.
"Crusher, the Linebacker?" Mike asked in disbelieve," But, but Trent is 100% top, how did you bed him, then?"
"He still can't walk, someone must have plowed `da poor fucker pretty well," Chuck snickered before Lee could reply.
"I am sure, Mr. Trent is most popular," Lee smiled, "his genitals are -- impressive."
"His gen...? Oh yeah?" Chuck asked slyly, "what did you do to him?"
This time Lee was interrupted by Dwight entering the room. Kyle and Taylor followed closely.
"Sorry to keep you waiting guys," Dwight said and nodded to Lee with a friendly smile.
"Hi," Taylor said.
"What is surfie-boy doing here?" Chuck looked at Taylor in his Bermudas with undisguised disdain.
"Cleaning up your mess, soldier-boy!" Taylor retorted, flaring up instantly.
"Careful, what `ya say surfie!" Chuck rose slowly from his chair.
"Don't touch him!" Kyle was up on his feet as well ready to protect his brother.
"Then tell your `lil bro, to watch what he is saying, or I'll teach him manners," Chuck snarled.
"Anytime, you oaf, any time," Taylor barked back.
"Sonofabitch!" Chuck exploded and charged at the pony-tailed youngster. Kyle went immediately between the furious wrestler and his brother. The two big marines collided and started tussling.
"Hands off, Corporal !" Kyle hollered, while wrestling his arm out of Chuck's hold. Dwight and Mike went to separate the two fighters.
"Don't ya pull rank, Sarge!" Chuck flared. "What kind of a marine are you anyway to allow such a pathetic nerd to take you down? You consider yourself straight, huh? But your lil bro has turned you into a fuckin' pussy. I bet you like to bottom, you enjoy to get screwed, isn't it?"
"Fuck you!' Kyle howled, murder in his eyes.
"No, pussy! I'll fuck you silly and then I plow your brat bro until his lights go out," Chuck sneered while trying to trap Kyle in a half nelson.
"You dumb ass hole are not man enough!" Taylor laughed. "I'll milk your baby-juicer until your fuckin' bull balls run dry in no time."
"You are dead! You're fuckin dead meat!" Chuck raged.
"Woowwoowwoo! Calm down Chuck!" Dwight shouted angrily.
"Bloody civilian!" Chuck snapped.
The Korean seemed not to be bothered at all by the ruckus, however, he looked interested at Taylor who was still sitting in his chair, obviously unconcerned about Chuck's rage.
Finally the three marines managed to hustle Chuck back onto his chair.
"Just because you fucked your bro, it doesn't mean that all marines have to take shit from you!" Chuck shouted at Taylor.
"Your ass got fucked too, baby, isn't it?" Taylor sneered.
"Don't you dare callin' me baby, you fuckin' beach bum, you ..." Chuck was struggling with the three marines and tried to get up again, shooting hateful looks at Taylor, who was just sitting in his chair, grinning, rubbing his crotch provocatively and making sure that Chuck saw it.
"Blow me, babe!" Taylor blew Chuck a mocked kiss triggering a roar of fury from the marine.
"Now stop! Both of you," Dwight yelled.
"Yeah, stop it Tayl!" Kyle turned to his brother and shook his head warningly. He knew the look in Taylor's eyes all too well. "Don't even think about it!"
"Just keep him away from me!" Chuck growled at Kyle watching Taylor intensively. "If I get my hands on him, I'll show him what a REAL marine is made of -- I'll rip him a new one. I...I..."
"Stop that crap!" Dwight interrupted sternly," we have important things to talk about and I cannot have such bullshit interfering. The Major kicks my ass, because I don't have my team for the Korea mission and you -, " Dwight looked at both Mike and Chuck," you blew it!"
"Why us?" Mike and Chuck asked unisono.
"You were smooching, remember?" Chuck looked from Dwight to Lee. Taylor chuckled.
"Shut up Corporal!" Dwight's face had suddenly turned crimson. Mike and Chuck grinned.
"So -- actually Hank had the idea, that Taylor's special talents could be useful to help us getting the Rowley brothers." Dwight said.
"Sorry, for me interrupting," Lee spoke for the first time," but why don't you just ask the two gentlemen to assist?"
"Gentlemen! Whoaa!" Chuck and Mike were bursting with laughter.
"Shut up!" Dwight shouted on the top of his voice.
"I am sorry," Lee said.
"No, not you, "Dwight replied," I was talkin' to them ass-holes." He glared at Chuck and Mike.
"They won't listen. Only if we haul them in, we can talk some sense into them," Dwight explained.
"..and Mr. Taylor has a plan, how to do that?" Lee asked.
"Mr. Taylor, my ass," Chuck muttered loathing. Dwight shot him a warning look.
"Yes, I do, " Taylor said calmly.
Everybody was looking at him expectantly.
"Now, as I see it, you got ... fucked," Taylor drawled his words, indulging in the looks of Mike's and Chuck's faces," you got fucked badly, because they were together. So you have to take them out one by one."
"Ah, and how are you gonna' do that, smart ass?" Chuck sneered.
"OK, that's it! You are off the team," Dwight shouted angrily.
"What? You can't do that!," Chuck protested.
"Dismissed Lance Corporal!" Dwight said sternly.
Chuck knew he had crossed the line. He shot a hateful glance at Taylor and gave a salute to Dwight.
"Fuck!" Chuck slammed the door.
"You were saying ...?" Dwight turned to Taylor.
"We need a car, a very special car ..." Taylor explained .....
The white, twenty foot 560 SEL Mercedes-Benz Superstretch Limo with the gold mirrorized windows was slowly cruising towards the construction site. The crew whistled in admiration at the luxury vehicle.
Although it was already late afternoon, the sun made the men sweat profoundly. Most of the crew had stripped of their shirts and were just wearing tight jeans with heavy tool belts, hard hats and work-boots. Brock Rowley was handling the heavy pneumatic drill with ease, pounding and hammering the tarred surface of the road. The vibrations of the work-tool made his huge body juddering and jerking. He was wearing his checkered work shirt with the cut-off sleeves and a pair of ass-hugging dirt-spotted work-jeans. The shirt was hanging loosely from his chiseled torso. Sweat glued the dark curly hair to the sculpted chest. The chiseled tattooed biceps were glistening from a thick layer of musky sweat. His wavy dark brown hair was held back by a headband.
He realized the Merc Limo only when it stopped right aside of him. The mirrorized window hummed down and a moment later he was looking into the smooth face of a youngster in a light-grey chauffeur uniform, wearing a pony-tail under the peaked cap.
"Hey mate, you've got a minute?" Taylor asked.
"What ?" Brock asked bewildered and switched the jackhammer off. He stripped the earmuffs from his head and wiped the sweat from his face.
"Buddy, there is my client and he wants to have a word with ya," Taylor grinned. "Actually I have to translate, cause he doesn't speak English, `ya know."
"What?" Brock looked at the big Limo, clueless.
"You know, I am driving this gook around da city for da whole day now and he needs it badly. The guy's horny as hell and he tells me, drive over to da roadworks and invite dis muscle hunk to have ride." Taylor said.
"Are you mad?" Brock couldn't believe what he was told.
"He is loaded, `ya know," Taylor pushed a button at the teak-wood front panel and the rear window hummed down. The face of a young Asian in his early twenties appeared. He was wearing rose-tinted spectacles and a dark blue office suite, tie and pink shirt. The black hair was neatly combed with a line on the right side of his head. The Asian bowed his head with a smile.
"Hey, he'll pay `ya 500 bucks, if you fuck him," Taylor was holding a bundle of greenbacks in his hand.
"That .... That's crazy, " Brock muttered," but my shift is almost over anyway."
"So why don't you hop in and have a beer and some fun?" Taylor gave him a lascivious grin.
"He needs it, huh?" Brock returned the grin.
"You bet!" Taylor said," he needs an American dick to plow his Asian ass."
"He can have that," Brock said. Taylor noticed the outline of the hunk's dick hardening under the fabric of the tight jeans. Brock laid the drill down to the ground.
"Hey Hank," he shouted to one of his workmates," take care of the rod, will `ya? I have some business to attend."
His crew mates were grinning broadly, when they realized what was going on.
"Sure, foreman wants his rod to be taken care off," Hank grinned.
Brock turned back to the car, where the Asian was talking to the driver in a foreign language.
"He wants you to take your shirt of man, to see your muscles" Taylor said.
"No problem," Brock stripped the sweaty shirt from his shoulders. The Asian talked again to the driver.
"Can you flex?" Taylor asked. The crew watched chuckling as their foreman was pumping his muscles. Obviously satisfied the Asian pushed the door open, however, when Brock bent down to enter the car he was held back by the Asian's out-stretched hand, who was talking to the driver rapidly.
"What now?" Brock asked. His dick was aching in his tight jeans. The cool air from the inside of the car and the anticipated fuck session, made him want to get inside and rip the gook's clothes of, to have his way with him.
"Sorry bro, but he says, you cannot wear your dusty boots inside his car. Asians are very special bout that, ya know," Taylor explained.
"Shit! But what the hell, it's 500 bucks, huh?" Brock said.
"Yeah 500 it is," Taylor confirmed.
Brock discarded his shirt and stripped the work boots from his naked feet. The Asian closed the window and waved him to come inside the car. The door closed behind the hunky construction worker with a soft thud, cutting off the noise from the roadworks and the hooting of his crew.
Taylor hit the door locks and pushed a button. The window dividing the front seats and the spacious passenger compartment was sliding down. He crawled over the back of the driver's seat and joined Lee and Brock who had trouble folding his massive frame in the center of the spacious backbench.
The Asian opened a small fridge and fetched a bottle of Bud.
"Have a beer man, you must be fuckin' thirsty," Taylor said. Sitting close to Brock he was inhaling the musky man odor of the foreman's body.
"Thanx!" Brock kicked his head back and swallowed the beer with huge, noisy gulps. Lee hurried to fetch him a new bottle while Taylor was rubbing his hand over the rounded pecs, casually flipping his thumbs at the bullet-shaped nipples. After downing another bottle Brock belched. He was slumping back and relaxed while Taylor was gently massaging his neck. Lee's mouth sucked on one of his man tits, which hardened quickly under the soft bites and the eagerly flicking tongue. Taylor joined in and for a while there were no sounds apart from the engine and the gobbling around the tits.
"Uhhh, yeahhh," Brock groaned. His long legs sprawled. Taylor's hand was already rubbing the bulging crotch where the outline of an impressive man tool was forming under the worn-away jeans fabric.
"So - let's fuck. I am fuckin' horny," Brock croaked hoarsely.
The Asian said something in his language.
"Let us make you really comfy, huh?" Taylor said, pretending to translate.
"But, uummphhh," Brock was silenced by Taylor kissing him.
Lee went down on his knees between the spread thighs. With confident moves he unbuttoned the fly. Automatically Brock raised his hips and allowed his jeans being pulled down. An instant later he was sitting buck-naked between the two fully-clothed men in the luxury car.
Brock relaxed. After a hard day's work he needed relief and here was even an opportunity to make some bucks while getting laid. Taylor's tongue was probing deep into his mouth. Lee closed his hands around the throbbing shaft and pulled the skin taunt towards the base making the foreman grunt. A tiny drop of clear pre-cum emerged from the gaping piss slit. Both men's eyes met.
"Suck that dick!" Brock whispered and Lee's mouth swallowed voraciously the hefty man meat. His hands brushed up across the sculpted six pack abs and started to twist Brock's nipples.
"Mmmm..." Brock groaned with pleasure. His eyes closed. Taylor started kissing his face, licking his throat and nibbling his earlobes.
"Oh, yeah...uhhh", Brock was squirming on the leather seat. Lee was now massaging the juicy nuts. Lee's tongue was teasing the frenulum and his teeth were grating the sensitive, swollen mushroom head, while Taylor had started a new round of French-kissing.
Suddenly the well-lubricated shaft slipped from Lee's smooth warm mouth into the chilled air of the car.
"No, don't stop. Come on suck that dick!" Brock croaked.
Lee looked at Taylor and nodded.
"Get down on your back, we are going to blow and rim you in tandem," Taylor said.
"W-what, ....how," Brock was confused, but in his lust-induced stupor the hunk allowed himself to be guided by the two smaller men down to the carpeted floor. A pillow from the side-bench was placed comfortably under his head, while his waist was resting against the back-bench, forcing him into a crouched position.
"Huh?" Brock asked dazed.
Lee sat down on the spacious bench, clenching Brock's elevated hips between his thighs. He spread the bent legs apart and pulled the waggling dick upwards, while rubbing his spit-slippery finger across the puckered hole.
"Uhhmmm," Brock moaned. Taylor watched gleefully the quivering sphincter. Dwight had been right. That stud was an ass man.
While the Korean was slurping the rock-hard fuck meat again inside the comfortable warmth of his mouth, Taylor straddled the prone hunk in a wide stance, his feet on both sides of Brock's broad shoulders.
"What the fuck? Uuunghhh! Aawwww, shiittt," Brock squirmed when Lee's finger entered his backside. His legs stretched out in reflex and Taylor caught first one and then the other ankle. He was holding the long legs up into a wide V-shaped spread until the heels were touching the car frame. Instinctively Brock stemmed his legs to get a firmer hold. Another finger was inserted into his tight sphincter and suddenly he felt weak. His eyes were half-shut and he was grunting in pleasure.
Taylor reached inside his jacket and produced to ankle restraints, which he had borrowed from Billy, the owner of the "Pink Cock". He slipped the restraints over the curling feet and attached the ankles to the handles on both sides of the car ceiling.
"Done!" Taylor called out in undisguised glee.
"Fuck! What?" Brock realized amazingly fast that he had been tricked.
"Oh, shit!" Taylor dove down and reached for one of the heavy muscled arms. Lee grabbed the other one and in no time a fierce wrestling match erupted in the passenger compartment. Lee took some nylon wrist straps from his pocket and tried to slip them over one of Brock's wrist.
"Fuck you! Stop that shit! Nooo!" Brock's defiant bluster was contained by the soundproof doors and windows, but the heavy body of the car started to bounce when he struggled against the restraints and tried to fight his two attackers.
On the outside, the crew was hooting and shouting.
"Yay, da boss is fuckin' da shit outtofda gook," cheered Hank and bumped his fist on the top of the rhythmically swinging car.
Inside the luxury car, the hunky construction worker went berserk. Despite his ankles being trapped and being forced into an awkward position, his heavy body twisted and squirmed with amazing speed and power.
"You pervert, I fuckin' kill ya!" Brock had seized Taylor's forearms and pulled the wincing youngster down, obviously trying to trap him under his body. Taylor struggled desperately, but he was no match for the giant's brute power.
"Shit!" Taylor was forced down to his knees, tears were forming in his eyes. Brock's biceps were working with murderous force. Lee knew he had to act fast. He reached down and dug his thumbs painfully into the hunks sweaty armpits. Brock's grip weakened. The pain became quickly unbearable.
"Awwww," with a howl of pain Brock had to release Taylor who hurried to catch one of Brock's wrists. Lee had managed to twist one arm behind Brock's back already. In a surprising move he bowed his head and swallowed the swinging semi-erect dick.
"Nooo!" Brock arched his body, when he felt Lee's tongue brushing over his piss slit. This moment of distraction was all that Taylor needed. Both wrists crossed behind Brock's back and Lee moved in, slipping the nylon straps in place.
"Shhiiitt! Fuck!" Brock's enraged yell signaled that Taylor and Lee had managed to secure his wrists into restraints behind his back. The cursing big man was wildly flipping in his bonds.
"Let me go, motherfuckers!" Brock yelled still desperately struggling to break free.
"One down, one to go," Taylor said. He was rubbing his back, where one of Brock's desperate blows had hit him during the struggle.
"You did very well," Lee smiled appreciative.
"Fuck, you speak English," Brock barked but he was totally ignored by his assailants.
"I think it's ok to have some fun, before we deliver him," Taylor produced a pink pill that looked like a marshmallow from a small jar he had brought.
"What's that?" Lee asked interested.
"I got it from a friend, who works as a ranch hand. Stud horses like that, when they get their milking! It stimulates their prostrate, makes them absolutely fuckin' horny." Taylor laughed. With his thighs spread wide open, Brock's puckered hole was helpless exposed to the attack.
"Get off me you fuckin' pervert. Noooo!"
"I did that once and it works amazingly on men as well," ignoring Brock's cursing Taylor pushed the pill deep inside the tight rectum.
"Damn you! What is this shit?" Brock squirmed. Inside the hot ass the soft pill melted quickly into a clear gooey fluid, which covered the walls of the rectum and even the prostate. Brock's guts were warming up until his groins were churning in sizzling heat.
"Fuck! What have you done to me?" he howled. His monster dick was rock hard. The big car started to bounce again, when Taylor and Lee drove Brock into a howling, mind-shattering climax. Lee had two fingers buried deep inside the tight ass, controlling the big sweaty man by softly probing the defenseless prostrate. Each probing touch sent a surge into Brock's system wrenching the control over his body away.
"Mmmphh...urghh," Taylor had fed his cock to Brock's mouth and forced the writhing foreman to suck his hardening dick.
Despite his predicament Brock was horny as hell. The fresh smell of Taylor's young balls filled his nose and the slow rhythmic pumping of his boner in line with the ongoing prostate massage made the urge to cum almost unbearable. His mouth accommodated the whole length of Taylor's pulsing cock. It didn't take long until Taylor's breathing quickened. A finally squeak and Brock swallowed his gooey load.
When Lee finally made Brock shoot his man-seed he aimed the twitching cock right towards the reddened face. Taylor was holding the head in a firm grip, while gushes of white cum were splashing onto the forehead, hitting the mouth and covering the sweaty cheeks.
"Oh fuck, huhh...huh.." Brock gurgled, tasting his own cum.
The exhausted hunk hung dizzy from the restraints trapping his ankles. Lee was softly massaging his aching balls, keeping Brock stimulated.
"Time to deliver that ass hole," Taylor climbed into the driver seat and started the engine.
The crew watched in surprise the car taking of. A pair of heavy work boots and a sweat-soaked shirt, discarded on the dusty road was all that remained from their brawny foreman.
"You are tight," Lee forced his dick inside Brock's ass.
"Fuck, oh fuck. Huhhh!" Brock cursed and moaned, when the Asian was mounting him.
Taylor watched in the rear mirror Lee taking the foreman's ass. All the way to the `Pink Cock' Brock got plowed by Asian dick and Lee allowed himself to climax only after he had forced another cum shot from construction worker's throbbing shaft.
They arrived in the backyard of the `Pink Cock'. Billy the owner welcomed them with a broad grin. The Rowleys had an infamous history of bar fights and Billy was more then happy to assist, when Taylor had explained to him their plan.
"The black room is ready," Billy told Taylor after having a good laugh at Brock, who was cursing on top of his voice.
"I send you some of my boys. We'll help you to carry that raging bull to his new stable," Billy said and disappeared into the bar.
"There is an easy way," Lee fetched two tiny silvery needles from the pocket of his jacket. He bowed down and inserted them with a swift move on both sides of Brock's thick neck. The cursing stopped instantly. Brock's eyes bulged and then the big body slumped in his restraints. When Billy arrived with two of his bouncers, the foreman was already passed out.
"Cool!" Taylor said.
"That will last about half an hour," Lee said and removed the needles. The limp body was carried inside. When Taylor took Brock's jeans, a plastic pouch containing a white powder dropped to the floor. Taylor whistled softly and let it disappear in his pocket. He was about to follow the others, when Billy stopped him.
"I heard about your quarrel with Riley," Billy said," I think you wonna' know, he is inside. Had some weed already and is in a bad mood."
"Thank's mate," Taylor looked at Billy pondering. Then his face lit up.
"Listen, I need you doing me a favor." Taylor asked.
"Name it," Billy replied.
"I need one of your dog kits, you know? And than you call Bobby and tell him ...,"
Taylor was talking for about two minutes and Billy's eyes grew wide. "You are a devil!" he said, "it's so good to have you back."
(... to be continued)