Date: Mon, 1 Nov 2021 23:09:18 +0000 (UTC)
From: Hunter Green <huntergreenmuscle@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chuck McGraw part 14

The continuing story of Chuck McGraw, a big-dicked, bad ass mother fucker.
Soldier. Father. Fucker.
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For legal reasons all of this is fictional.
Feedback welcome at: huntergreenmuscle@yahoo.com

Chapter 14 - 2006 - FNG - Fort Benning, GA.

"Fuck yeeeeeeah," he quietly, slowly grunted. Both his hands slid along the
shaft of his cock, hairy fists wrapped around a veiny, steel rod of
purple-pink flesh. His foreskin went up and down, sliding along his glands,
revealing his leaking cockhead, and then concealing it, milky precum oozing
from the tip only to be spread along his dick on the next stroke. He loved
this, the slow stroke, the edging, the self-cock worship. He was a
dedicated, obsessed masturbator. His cock was his favorite thing in the
world. He couldn't keep his hands off of himself.

	On the other side of the office door, the daily noise and chatter
of a busy military office went on. He could see movement through the
frosted glass windowpane of the door, where his name, rank, and position
were painted with fine black letters. He sat in his chair, his back to the
window, blinds open to the sidewalk. He liked the idea of being seen, of
being caught. He loved being watched and showing off. He was fairly certain
that everyone on the other side of the door knew exactly what he was doing
right now. He made no secret of it and told others to bother him at their
own risk. As the Company First Sergeant he had a lot of leeway when it came
to access and who dared to enter his office. They were either frightened of
him or in awe of him, or both at the same time. He was better than them in
nearly every way, a walking, rough-talking GI Joe. He was 37 now and stood
six-foot-four, weighing in at 240 lbs of solid muscle with 21-inch arms
that strained the sleeves of his uniform top and a thick ten-inch dick that
showed through his uniform pants, snaking down his left leg. His jaw was
super-hero square with a deep cleft in the center, and heavy dark brows
shadowed his eyes. He was nearly squinting just a little, giving the
impression that he was glaring disappointingly at anyone under his
gaze. His face was creased with lines these days after years of being
exposed to harsh conditions outdoors. His cheekbones stood out sharply, and
his precision military mustache only served to highlight his stern demeanor
and close-lipped sneer.

	He sat up in his chair and leaned forward, his knees spread
wide. Slowly he let a big gob of spit drop from his lower lip to his
shaft. He added the spit to his precum as lube for his stroke session. He
wasn't stroking to get off. He was stroking just to enjoy the sensation. He
was edging for a bigger load later on. The edge and anticipation were worth
it. With his left hand he squeezed the base of his dick and with his right
he ran it slowly but firmly up and down that shaft. Each time he did he let
a low visceral moan.

	A knock sounded at his door, interrupting his cock-worshiping
reverie.

	"WHAT?" He barked, annoyed.

	The Specialist on duty at the front desk answered. "Top, the new
El-Tee is here and reporting in. The Commander wanted me to tell you."
There was that fear in his voice. McGraw both relished it and despised
it. That Soldier would have to learn to conceal that fear, or he will never
be respected.

	"GOT IT!" He shouted back and the SPC's shadow retreated quickly
from the door. Chuck stood up and stuffed his still hard cock into his
pants and did up his belt. He licked the precum from where it had gathered
on the meaty part of his hand in one long stroke of his tongue. He didn't
bother putting his blouse back on. It was hot, and sweat stains darkened
the brown cotton shirt under his arms, along his back and beneath the shelf
of his heavy square pecs. The shirt was tight, and before he walked out
into the common area, he gave himself a quick flex in his office mirror
beside his door. He loved his own muscular body almost as much as he loved
his own dick. Adjusting his cock through his pants, he yanked the door
open. He saw the Soldiers on the other side jump and scatter to look busy
rather than be in First Sergeant's way.

	He crossed the small lobby to the commander's office, where the
door stood open. Captain Rameriez was seated behind his desk and the new LT
was in the visitor's chair in front of the desk. They both looked up at him
as he walked in without knocking or announcement.

	"Jason," the commander said, addressing the lieutenant by his first
name, "This is First Sergeant McGraw. Top, this is LT Fogg. He's coming
from Korea." LT Fogg didn't rise to greet McGraw but reached out his hand
for a handshake. McGraw took it. His hand was still a bit slick from his
spit and cum, and his massive mitt engulfed the lieutenant's. He could see
the boy wince a bit and try to match McGraw's strength, but he was far
outclassed. Top let his thumb graze over the younger man's West Point Class
Ring. He also smirked at the LT's gaze took him in from his boots to his
t-shirt. A myriad of emotions crossed the boy's face. McGraw was used to
this. Clearly, he was bothered by the enlisted man's lack of decorum,
entering a senior officer's office without preamble or ceremony, coming in
half-dressed without the proper uniform. There was also the look of shock
and awe as the LT took in the high and tight haircut, squared-away
mustache, the five o'clock shadow on the square jaw and cleft chin, the
thick, ropey neck meeting the oversized traps, down to the solid, muscled,
and heavily tattooed man filling out the uniform beneath.

	The lieutenant was probably about 5'8" if he'd been standing. Blond
haired and blue eyed, he looked like an ideal Nazi youth from a propaganda
poster or video from WWII. He looked to be in excellent shape, but that was
to be expected for an Infantry Soldier. He was handsome, almost pretty,
with his delicate chin line, long eye lashes and wispy eyebrows. McGraw's
gaze was drawn to the boy's full lips and immediately started thinking
about how good they would look locked around his horsemeat. That thought
made him smirk, and his dick pulsed. A little more precum leaked out and
started making a wet spot on his trousers.

	McGraw didn't take a seat in the other chair. Instead, he stood
beside the seated LT, probably a little too close for comfort, as the CPT
gave a standard welcome-to-the-unit speech. McGraw crossed his arms over
his chest, and stood with his legs spread apart, hips thrust forward toward
the LT who was growing ever more uncomfortable with the large muscle man
looming over his shoulder. Fogg's eyes kept being drawn to the 1SG's cock,
which was conveniently eye-level and within reach. McGraw would
occasionally add a comment here or there, or even just a grunt. At one
point he interjected. "I hope you don't think because you're an officer
that you're gonna slack during PT. I hold all my troops to a strenuous
physical level and, as the commander can tell you, no one gets off the
hook. I hope you're up to it. And if you aren't I'll break you until you
are." This was given as a simple statement, without real malice, but
assuredly without any hint of humor or leeway.

	Fogg audibly gulped. Then, voice full of false bravado, he tried to
recover and said, "I played rugby at the academy. I'm sure I can handle
what you have for me." He heard it as he said it and his pale skin flushed
red as he did everything in his power not to stare at McGraw's dick. McGraw
gave it a twitch and the boy jumped in his chair a bit as his asshole
surely puckered.

	"We'll see about that," McGraw said. "I'll leave the two of you to
chat. I've got shit to do." As he said this, he placed his hand on the LT's
shoulder and squeezed it just a little too hard for comfort, and as he
turned away, he let his hard cock brush up against the junior officer's
shoulder. He started yelling as soon as left, and the troops in the
building ran to obey his orders.

	Over the next couple of weeks McGraw paid extra special attention
to the new LT, especially during PT. The morning after he reported in, the
Commander, at Top's suggestion, called to have a company-wide run, led by
the 1SG. There was a lot of groaning, as the Soldiers knew that the 1SG
never took it easy on them.

	Formation was at 0500h. As everyone stood there yawning and
stretching on the muggy Georgia morning, the 1SG ran up. He was shirtless,
his grey PT shirt tucked into his black shorts. The shorts were probably
sized smaller than they should be. His thighs filled the material that was
usually loose on anyone else. He was drenched in sweat and his hairy chest
was matted down; his dog tags nestled between his pecs. While most people
had driven to the assembly area, he had run the three miles to get
there. The CPT, used to this by now, just smiled and told the LT standing
beside him that for 1SG McGraw that was just a warmup.

      "It's too fucking hot for a goddamn shirt, Sir." McGraw said as he
came to a halt and as way of an apology to the Captain. He didn't salute
either officer, something that made Fogg frown. Ramirez shrugged and McGraw
stayed shirtless.

	The route was 9 miles. The CPT volunteered to be the tail to pick
up any stragglers. This was the kinder option. But he told Fogg to stick
with Top "if you can" at the head of the formation.

	The company began their run. McGraw and Fogg at the head, leading
the way, while the rest stuck to a four-man-wide formation and the platoon
sergeants took turns calling cadence.

	"You don't want your first impression in front of the men to be
that you're a pussy, do you?" McGraw asked Fogg. By mile three Fogg was
struggling. "Just keep the pace and keep going straight down this trail,
and you won't get us fucking lost."

	McGraw switched off with the cadence caller, SFC Brennan. McGraw's
voice was strong and loud, as if he were taking a leisurely stroll. After
two miles he switched back, with just him and Fogg in the front, the guidon
and the company behind them. Soon they crested a hill where McGraw brought
the company to a stop. He stood in the middle with the LT but had the
guidon circle, bringing all the men into a loose formation surrounding him.

	"ARE YOU FUCKING TIRED YET?!" He shouted to the assembled men. Most
of them were panting, quite a few of them were bent at the waist hands on
their knees. Fogg was one of them. McGraw bent over, close to Fogg's ear
and aggressively whispered, "Sir, stand the fuck up and look like a goddamn
man. You're embarrassing yourself. More importantly, you are embarrassing
me." He didn't wait for any acknowledgment but stood up and strode forward
to face the assembled troops. "I'M NOT FUCKING TIRED. I ALREADY RAN THREE
MORE MILES THIS MORNING THAN ANY OF YOU FUCKIN LAZY FAGGOTS. I'M TWICE THE
AGE OF MOST OF YOU AND LOOK AT ME. TAKE A REAL GOOD LONG LOOK AT ME." Here
he spread his arms wide and let loose a primal scream into the morning
air. When he lowered his arms, he flexed them down and across his muscular
and sweaty torso.

" ARE YOU MEN?"

There was a pathetic cheer from about half of the Soldiers.

"ARE YOU SOLDIERS?"

This time the cheer was a bit louder.

"ARE YOU FUCKING WARRIORS?"

The cheer was much louder this time.

"THEN FUCKING ACT LIKE IT! YOU ARE GODDAMN LUCKY TO BE HERE. YOU ARE
FUCKING LUCKY TO BE ALIVE. TAKE JOY IN THIS, IN THIS MORNING, IN YOUR BODY,
YOUR ABILITIES. PUSH YOURSELF. RELISH THE PAIN. FUCKING LOVE THE SWEAT
POURING FROM YOUR FUCKING BODIES. YOU ARE STRONG AND YOU CAN BE
STRONGER. LET ME HEAR YOUR WAR CRY!!"

The Company yelled.

"FUCKING PATHETIC! MY MEN DON'T SOUND LIKE FUCKING PANSIES. MY MEN ARE
WARRIORS. MY MEN ARE THE MEN OTHERS FEAR. IF YOU ARE MY MEN, THEN MAKE THE
WORLD TREMBLE! AGAIN!" They yelled again, louder. Birds flew from the
trees. "WAKE UP THE WHOLE MOTHERFUCKING WOODS." They bellowed once
more. "AGAIN!" The men hollered.

	Then he strode up the LT who was upright but panting, his face
shining with sweat and his t-shirt damp. He walked up to him, face to face
(or really face- to chest as he towered over the LT). He pressed his face
so close to Fogg's that sweat dripped from his nose into Fogg's open
mouth. "I can't fucking hear you," he said, adding a delayed "sir" after a
breath. It was downright menacing, and he wouldn't be surprised to know
that Fogg pissed a little out of fear. Fogg stepped back and
yelled. "Again," ordered McGraw. Fogg yelled again, not even questioning
that he just followed an order from an NCO like any Private would. "Like
you have some fucking balls this time," McGraw spat. Fogg hollered into the
sky for all he was worth. When he stopped, he looked at McGraw, and the
assembled men looked at them both. There was a long silence, and then
McGraw said calmly and directly to Fogg, "We'll have to work on you." Then
he turned around and shouted, "Lieutenant Fogg is the new Company Executive
Officer. He's a West Point Grad. He is going to lead the Company back down
to the PT field. I'm going to count to 100 and give y'all a head
start. Then, and only then, I'll start running. Anyone I beat to the finish
line will come see me after COB for some remedial PT. Clear?

	The men grunted in unison.

	"One. Two. ThreeÉ" he started. Then he looked over his shoulder
at the XO. He snapped his fingers and pointed back the way they had
come. Fogg got the hint and started running and the men took off after him,
all sense of formation lost as they bolted down the hill. McGraw stood
there with his hands on his hips and watched. As the last of the men turned
around, he dropped his shorts below his nut sack and let his cock hang
out. He released a long, strong stream of piss, marking the top of the hill
like a dog marks a tree. He gave his veiny shaft a few strokes, letting the
foreskin pull back and exposing his glans to the humid morning air. Even
flaccid his dick was a fat seven inches, but as he stroked it, it started
to stiffen and grow. He thought about jerking off and blowing a load in the
dirt but opted to put his dick back into his shorts and wait until
later. He decided to count to 200 before he resumed running. He still beat
23 of the troops back to the field, including LT Fogg.

	A few weeks later the company was having an inspection day. Platoon
leaders and sergeants conducted health and welfare checks of the barracks,
weapons and vehicles were looked over by senior levels, and all personal
gear and uniforms were examined for wear and tear and suitability. Midweek
was a class-A uniform inspection where everyone put on their dress uniforms
to make sure awards and fit were correct.

	In the headquarters office, the First Sergeant gave leave for the
other Soldiers to clear out to make sure they were ready for the 1300h
formation and inspection, so he was left alone with the XO. The CPT was at
a meeting with the Commanding General (CG) of the post. The XO's office was
directly across from the 1SG's and both men had their doors open. The 1SG
sat at his desk nominally looking at paperwork. His uniform was always
ready and squared away. The XO was adjusting his uniform on its clothes
hanger. McGraw caught himself staring at the way the blue dress pants
hugged the round ass of the XO. He was fit and getting fitter under
McGraw's attentions. But that ass had been built up from years of soccer
and rugby. It was practically eating those polyester slacks. McGraw's hand
strayed below the desk to stroke his cock beneath his own pants. He rubbed
the stiff material and gave his shaft a couple of squeezes as he imagined
what the XO's ass looked like naked. Would it be smooth or hairy? Freckled
or clear? The XO didn't shower at the HQ and McGraw had yet to see him at
the base gym.

	Fogg took his coat off the hanger and put it on to examine his
handiwork in the full-length mirror on the wall. He clearly wasn't
satisfied. When McGraw suddenly appeared in his doorway, he jumped. "You
need help" was all the 1SG said before stepping up to Fogg. He stared
tugging on the jacket, adjusting it. He reached inside the coat to work on
the ribbons and pinback. He felt his wedding ring scrape against Fogg's
nipple and the boy shivered.

	Suddenly there was a metallic thud sound by their feet. Both men
looked down. Fogg's face was red with shock, embarrassment, and
fear. Between their feet was a silver metal cock ring. It had fallen off of
the XO and slid down his leg. Fogg tried to bend down and pick it up but
was stayed by the 1SG's hand. McGraw bent over slowly, picked up the ring
with his other hand and stood back up. He held the ring up to Fogg's face
and took a step closer to the XO. He made his face angry as he leaned in so
close their noses were practically touching.

	"What. The. Fuck, XO. Are you fucking telling me that being this
close to me makes your goddamn cock SHRINK?!" This was said in a harsh
tone, just above a whisper. "Being next to a real man like me should get
you HARD, not fucking shrivel up so much your little cockring falls off."

	Fogg was frozen in fear. "I don't..I..I have no idea.."

	"Shut up." McGraw ordered and Fogg shut up. "Until you got here you
thought you were the shit. Hot. Athletic. Academy grad. And the minute you
met me you found out that your whole life was a fucking lie. You'd never
met a man like me, but I'm willing to bet you've dreamed about one like me
before. And you don't know whether to be scared or turned on." McGraw took
his free hand and grabbed the XO's crotch and squeezed. Fogg yelped but
didn't move. "Well, here I amÉSirÉgiving you PERMISSION to be fucking
turned on by me." McGraw squeezed Fogg's cock and balls in his meaty
hand. "When you see me, I want your asshole to pucker and your little cock
to get hard. This is what a man is. Your dick is no longer allowed to
shrivel up in my presence. In fact, Lieutenant 'FAG', I want you to get
hard right now."  He stood there as the XO, raised up on his tiptoes, hands
at his side, panted in fear and arousal. His dick started getting hard
immediately. "That's better."

	McGraw held on to Fogg's crotch a few more beats as he looked the
frightened man in the eyes, their faces almost touching. Then he let go of
the LT's cock once he could tell the man was rock hard. McGraw slipped the
cockring into his own pocket, and without a word resumed adjusting the XO's
jacket. Once he was satisfied, he stepped back, looked him from bottom to
top, and grunted, "That will have to do."

	Then he walked back to his office to put on his own coat. The XO
started to head out the front door, when McGraw calmly said, "Lieutenant
Fogg," using the man's real name this time. The XO paused and turned
around. "See me afterward to retrieve your item." It was another order, and
one that LT Fogg accepted without question.

	After the inspection, standing in front of the Company, the First
Sergeant, without asking the XO's permission, dismissed the troops, giving
them the remainder of the day off. Fogg didn't protest and the Soldiers
didn't wait for Top to change his mind. Once they had all popped smoke,
McGraw strode back into the HQ. Fogg followed afterward.

	When the XO entered the building, no one was around. 1SG's door was
closed, but his office was open. He hadn't left it that way. When he walked
in, Top was inside, hands in his pockets and sitting against the front of
the Lieutenant's desk.

	"Come in, and close the door behind you," McGraw ordered.

	"Now First Sergeant, there's been some sort of mistake..." Fogg
started. McGraw interrupted him, speaking in a low, deep tone.

	"No, there hasn't. Now do as I say and get the fuck over here."

	Fogg did as he was told. In a moment he was standing in front of
McGraw, who, despite leaning casually against the desk, was still taller
than he was. He tried to gulp quietly.

	"Now, Jason," McGraw started, breaking all the rules by addressing
the officer by his first name. "You and I both know what's going to happen
here. You've been wanting it to happen, even if you can't admit it to
yourself just yet. Hell, I've been wanting it ever since you waltzed in
here with your superior attitude and tight little bubble ass."

	Fogg stared in speechless shock. McGraw was gay?! No, he was
married with kids. Fogg had met them. But maybe he liked guys too?!

	"I understand you're shocked. A lot of gay guys like you are when
they first find out about me. But here's the thing. I like fags. They make
the best cock suckers. Plus, if they are properly trained, then can take my
dick better than any bitch can. And trust me, I've tried them all."

	Fogg's gaze drifted down to the snake inside McGraw's blue
trousers. McGraw watched him do it and flexed a bit so it would swell up
more. Over the past few weeks he'd heard the stories and the nicknames that
Top had acquired based on the size of his monster cock.

	"So, here's the deal, Sir. You are now my Personal Fucking
Cocksucker. On demand. Whenever and wherever I say. You are going to suck
my cock, swallow my loads, and, once I break you in, I'm going to fuck you
and breed your ass. Is that clear?"

	Fogg didn't answer, still in shock.

	"I said, is that fucking clear?" McGraw barked, standing up
straight, and putting his hands on his hips.

	"I.. I can't!" Fogg stuttered. "I have a boyfriend, I.."

	"So, what. I have a wife. I didn't ask for your fucking life
story."

	"But we don'tÉ we've neverÉ"

	"Look. I understand. But you should know above all that monogamy
isn't natural for a guy. Fuck, I thought all queers knew that. Hell, if
your boyfriend has an ass like yours, I'll fuck him too."

	"But we..., I.."

	"Are you fucking telling me you haven't been salivating over me
since the day you reported in? I can see you. You want my cock so bad I can
smell it."

	Fogg didn't say anything. He was out of protests. It was
true. Every word of it. The man before him, this rock-solid god of all
thing male, was what every gay boy dreamed of. And he had dreamed of
sucking McGraw's dick. Lately whenever he and his boyfriend were fucking,
Jason would close his eyes and imagine McGraw. He'd imagine him in all
sorts of sexual positions and scenarios, but none of them were as intense,
as dominating, as what was happening right now.

	"No one else is here. It's just you and me, and my cock," said
McGraw in a calm clear voice. "So I'm going to need you to get on your
fucking knees and service me."

	Fogg moved automatically. He got on his knees before the imposing
First Sergeant. McGraw undid his web belt, his trouser button, and lowered
his fly. He wasn't wearing underwear. He reached in and hauled out all ten
inches of his half-hard cock along with his balls. It was the first time
Fogg had seen it. It was thick, thicker at the base in its nest of dark
brown pubic hair. Heavy veins ran down the length to the uncut hood. The
piss slit was just peeking out from under the hood. An opaque drop of
precum was forming there. Fogg leaned forward and stuck his tongue out and
very gingerly licked the head to taste the precum. Up close, McGraw smelled
musky, manly, sweaty. He smelled amazing. His pheromones were radiating
from his crotch and acting like a drug on the XO, it was driving him insane
with desire.

	"You have my permission to suck my cock." McGraw said, hands on his
hips. Fogg complied. He did his best to take all then inches into his
mouth, but by then Top was hard and it was more than he could handle. But
he worked at it. He used his hands to stroke the shaft and tug on the man's
balls. He used his tongue to stimulate the glands under the foreskin as he
tugged it back. At first McGraw let Fogg do all the work. But after a while
he wanted more. He slapped Fogg's hands away and grabbed his head with both
hands and started fucking his face. It got to be too much for the XO and he
fought to push off of the dick, pushing against the 1SG's thighs. But Top
held him in place and kept going. Fogg was no match for McGraw. Fogg choked
and gagged. His eyes watered. Snot came out of his nose as he struggled to
breath. McGraw just went faster, harder. His breathing became labored and
heavy. He started grunting like a pig.

	Then suddenly he pulled the LT off his dick. The man gasped for
air; his vision blurred by tears. But McGraw had a surprise for him. He
gripped the blond with a fitful of hair to hold him in place. With his
other hand he stroked himself the last of the way to full orgasm. A flood
of cum shot out like a fire house, more than Fogg had ever seen. It hit him
in his open mouth and covered his clean-shaven face. Shot after shot came,
never slowing, never diminishing. McGraw aimed it at the Lieutenant's clean
and crisp uniform, shooting cum all over the blue jacket, the black tie and
white shirt, the medals, medallions, and awards.

	Finally, the flow of baby batter lessened and stopped. LT Fogg
looked like he'd been slimed or frosted in white cream. He was yanked
forward again as McGraw used his cock to wipe up what was on the boy's face
and shove into his mouth. Fogg obliged and sucked up as much cum as he
could. Finally, McGraw shoved his dick back in the boy's mouth.

	"You can pull your dick out and get off while you clean my cock. If
you can." Fogg hurriedly undid his pants. His own hard dick had been
momentarily forgotten. While his mouth was still sucking the 1SG's fat
dick, he whacked at his own, shooting his load in seconds. When Top's dick
was clean and the XO pulled off to catch his breath, he looked down and saw
some of his cum had gotten on the mirror-polished shoes of the
1SG. Panicked, he looked up. McGraw raised an eyebrow. He didn't have to
say a word. Fogg lowered himself to the tile floor and licked his own cum
from the shoe, making sure to get it all.

	"You're gonna want to get that uniform cleaned up right away. That
cum will leave stains, and you look like shit." McGraw stepped around the
XO and exited the office, headed to his own. His cock was still swinging
outside his trousers. When the XO stood up, he saw his metal cockring
sitting in the middle of his desk.

	It was the start of what was going to be an interesting assignment
for the LT.

More to cum.

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