Date: Fri, 2 Sep 2022 00:54:25 +0000 (UTC)
From: Hunter Green <huntergreenmuscle@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chuck McGraw Part 26

The continuing tale of Chuck McGraw, a big-dicked, bad ass mother fucker.
Father. Soldier. Bodybuilder. Pervert.

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Chapter 26
Summer 2011
dick skinners

The highway between Fort Bragg, NC and Fort Bliss, Texas

	"Goddamn. Fuck!" He exclaimed. He had one hand resting across the
steering wheel of his truck. With the other he was stroking his monster
cock. His wide, calloused fist was coated in cock slime and his own spit,
sliding up and down, over and over, on his ten inches of rock-hard meat. He
let the foreskin completely cover the head of his dick, pushing out more
precum, before pulling back down, opening the foreskin so that his entire
cockhead is exposed, blunt, red, swollen, until his fist lands in the full
hairy bush of pubes and presses hard against his groin and nutsack. He'd
been driving for a couple of hours, and most of it he'd been naked. Oh,
he'd started dressed, in his way. He had on an old pair of combat boots,
some worn out gym shorts that barely concealed his cock when they were on,
and a tank top, but he had rolled down the windows and stripped naked as
soon as he hit the highway. His truck was older, an '94 Chevy Silverado,
and didn't have A/C. He loved being naked and was every chance he got. He
liked having his body and cock exposed. He loved being seen, admired, and
envied.

	It was a good body. He was 42 years old now and an incredible sight
at 250 lbs. of solid muscle. He'd competed in and won a couple of
bodybuilding competitions in the last couple of years. Nothing pro, mostly
local and Armed Forces ones. Even on gear he had to still keep fit enough
to pass, and ace, the Army APFT. He kept a 32-inch waist, flat stomach, and
a strong, imposing physique at six-foot-four and 250 pounds. Two full
sleeves of tattoos covered his arms, with flames on his forearms, and more
mostly black and grey work climbing his 22-inch arms onto the huge shelf of
a chest and wide back. He'd gotten a fresh tattoo just a couple of weeks
before, an ammo belt wrapping around his upper thigh and onto the vast,
sweeping quad. They were only slightly obscured by his dark body hair that
covered his deeply tanned skin. He wore his hair in a high and tight
Marine-recon style. Both his hair and his regulation mustache were salt and
pepper, and his resting expression was one of disapproval, with a squint, a
sneer, and he had a comically square jaw and cleft chin sharp enough to cut
glass.

	Sitting in his truck there weren't many vehicles tall enough to see
him jacking his cock other than over the road truck drivers, passengers on
busses, or big RVs. But he didn't mind who saw, men, women, children. He
was a man, as God made him and as he had shaped himself through decades of
hard work at the gym. He was proud of his cock and his body. He wanted the
whole world to see him, admire him, and worship him. Hell, he worshiped
himself. He loved his body and his cock. He was a chronic masterbator, a
sex addict. He needed to get off daily, multiple times a day if he
could. His cock was never truly soft, his body pumping with testosterone,
both naturally and enhanced. When it was half-staff, it was still over
seven inches, dwarfing the tiny dicks of most men. When it was hard, which
was more often than not, it stood straight out, ten-inches, uncircumcised,
with a huge fat purple vein that ran from his lower abs almost all the way
down, across the top, to his foreskin. Most of the time of his hands were
free they found their way to his cock, playing with it even through his
clothing or uniforms. Idle hands are the devil's playground.

	One of times he usually had his cock exposed was while driving for
any length of time, and here he was on a two-day road trip. He was headed
from Fort Bragg, North Carolina to Fort Bliss, Texas. He'd been assigned to
attend the Sergeant Major Academy, a promotion. Less than one percent of
the Soldiers in the Army make it to First Sergeant and for years that's
where he'd been. Most NCOs say it's the best job in the Army. It's a unique
leadership position that allows the servicemember to be hands on with the
Troops. The endearing nickname all Soldiers give their First Sergeant is
"Top." In McGraw's case it had, of course, held a double meaning. Over the
last few years quite of few of his direct staff serviced his staff on the
regular.

	But now he was moving up. He'd been in the Army for 22
years. Eligible for retirement, buthe wasn't ready to give up his military
life just yet. So, he'd accepted the promotion and was moving to Texas for
the ten-month course. His sons were at their mothers for the time, though
they'd already planned for them to come down for some quality time with
their old man. After the divorce they'd preferred to live with him. But the
truth of military life, and divorced life, was that sometimes family was
far away. His sons were in good hands though. His ex-wife had remarried,
another Soldier, and was living in Fort Knox, Kentucky. McGraw had had a
long time in the military and built up a significant community of good
buddies, cocksuckers and loyal fuckers, many of whom knew about the special
relationship he had with his boys. Bobby, his eldest, now 17, had already
sent him a video of him fucking the shit out of CPT Fogg and busting his
teenage nut on the officer's face. Fogg had been a fresh-faced LT with a
secret boyfriend when he'd been assigned as the XO of McGraw's
company. McGraw had quickly turned Fogg and his civilian boyfriend into his
own private, on-call cocksuckers. Fogg would service him during the day in
the office or on the range, and, whenever McGraw wanted, he'd show up at
their house and they'd both fulfill his needs, from cooking meals to
swallowing loads. Now Fogg had been promoted to Captain and McGraw's
teenage son was doing the same. Bobby was, after all, a practical clone of
his father. Six foot four, a teenage bodybuilding champion, with an
identical ten-inch monster dick. The boy had no shortage of pussy or ass,
but he had a kink about making older men into his cock slaves. Fogg had
even given Bobby a new motorcycle for his 17th birthday.

      His youngest, Tyler, was 14 now, about to be a freshman in high
school. He'd had a growth spurt and was spending a lot of time in the
gym. The boy was on the wresting team and gymnastics team. Chuck had a
buddy on base who was providing free weight training for both his sons, in
exchange for Tyler's expert cock sucking skills and round, fuckable
ass. SFC Derek Holdsinger had been Ty's soccer coach a couple of years ago
on Bragg but had PCS'd to Knox the year before. He was happier than shit to
find out that Ty would be living on base. Holdsinger was married and he had
a son of his own Ty's age. He'd been fucking around with his boy for years
when he'd met the McGraws and the men had all bonded.  Holdsinger had
confided to Chuck years ago that Tyler was the better cocksucker and bottom
than his own son. It was true. No one loved cock more than Tyler McGraw.

	With his sons in good hands, Chuck had loaded his bike into the
back of his truck and packed enough shit to get him through the next ten
months. He was really a low maintenance sort of guy. He lived simply;
worked, worked out, fucked. When he had to wear clothes that weren't his
uniform, it was mostly old gym clothes, or, if he was on his Harley
Davidson, jeans, boots, and a leather jacket. He didn't even own a pair of
underwear.

	He took a second to raise his jacking hand up to hock some more
spit in it.

	"Fuck yeeeeeeeeeah," he growled to himself. His cock was painfully
hard, and precum pumped out from his piss slit and he squeezed the shaft
and slow stroked it. It felt great. Occasionally he'd taste some of his own
precum, sucking it from his fingers. He was almost lost in the reverie of
it, while still being careful to drive safe, when his watch alarm
pinged. He had it set to let him know when to eat. The life a dedicated
bodybuilder was based on his diet, after all.

	Not too far ahead he found and stopped at the next highway rest
stop. He pulled in, but instead of the section for regular passenger cars
he pulled around back where the larger vehicles, the semi-trucks parked. It
was only mid-morning, since he'd gotten on the road early and the place
only had a few people around. He parked the truck and hopped out. He was
naked, still half hard, in broad daylight but he figured the three truckers
in the semis who might be looking his way had seen worse. He grabbed his
shorts from the bench seat and slid them on. The thin grey cotton material
did nothing to hide his turgid shaft and a wet spot was quickly forming
where his cockhead made contact. He decided he needed to take a piss.

	He strolled up the path to the rest stop. It wasn't one of the
nicer ones. This one was older, a bit run down. Just ahead of him he saw a
young family, mom and dad in their mid-twenties maybe. Dad was holding the
hand of a toddler boy while mom hefted an infant. The pair separated at the
entrance to the restroom and father and son entered the men's room just
ahead of Chuck.

	"I can do it myself!" The little boy cried out defiantly.

	"Okay, but I'll be out here if you need me," replied the dad
patiently.

	The little boy headed into one of the stalls to use the toilet,
grunting as he reached up to lock the wooden door. The place was so old
fashioned that there weren't even individual urinals, just the old school
troth. Opposite the urinal were three stalls, counting the larger handicap
one on the end. Satisfied his kid was okay the dad turned around to use the
urinal.

	He hadn't paid attention to Chuck at all, absorbed as he was by his
young son, and was visibly started by the sight of the towering muscle
man. Chuck was nearly a foot taller than the guy, and more than twice as
wide. The other father was average build but looked skin and bones to the
soldier. Chuck was just siding up to his urinal, shirtless and dripping
with sweat down his wide, tattooed back and hair shelf of a chest.

	"Kids, huh?" Chuck said, nodding to the stall. "I remember when my
boys when through that independent stage. It's a good sign." He tugged the
waistband of his grey shorts down, and let it snap back in place under his
nutsack, his cock and balls free.

	"Oh yeah, you got boys?" The young dad said, almost getting it out
without his voice cracking too badly. He was wearing a t-shirt and shorts
as well, though his hung loosely on his body and his shorts were the longer
basketball style. He pulled his waistband down and took hold of his own,
much smaller cock.

	"Yeah." Chuck said while a strong steam of hot piss hit the back of
the urinal with audible force. "I've made at least two of them with this
fucker, that I know of anyway." He laughed roughly. The hand nearest the
other dad was on his hip and as he spoke, he looked down and tugged on his
pissing cock. The man's gaze couldn't help but be drawn to it, to look upon
the monster dick beside him.

	"Jesus Christ!" He quietly gasped. He'd never seen a cock as big,
not in person and not in porn. He was too stunned to speak after that.

	"My boys are almost grown now." Chuck continued, ignoring the
stranger's reaction, and letting his cock stiffen. "My oldest boy looks
exactly like me, down to the smallest, and biggest" (tug) "detail. Spittin'
image of me at his age. He's going to join the Army like his old man too."
His piss stream slowed to a trickle. He aggressively jacked his now hard
ten inches, flicking the last drops of piss off the end. "The youngest will
still be around a few years. He's smaller, about your size." It was a lie,
but a useful one. He could already tell that this man was going to suck his
cock.

	The other dad said nothing but continued to stare while McGraw
played with his dick.

	Chuck laughed, a snort really. With a smirk he said, "Ya want to
touch it, bro?" The stranger's eyes were wide as saucers. "It's alright,"
Chuck said, placing a companiable hand on the man's shoulder, "Grab a hold
and give it a tug."

	Hypnotized by the situation and Chuck's deep resonate voice, the
man reached over and wrapped his hand as far around the soldier's cock as
he could. The flesh was hot, and he could feel the blood pumping in the
thick vein that ran along the top of the shaft. The cock was still damp
with spit and slime, lubed and primed to go.

	"Jesus" he muttered again, as he ran his hand along the
length. Chuck wrapped his free hand around the other man's and jacked back
and forth along his own shaft, letting the foreskin pull back or slide over
his sensitive, musky glands. This close the man was overwhelmed by the
pheromones radiating off of McGraw's crotch and naked torso.

	Chuck leaned in close, letting his mustache brush the fascinated
man's ear. "If you want, you can suck it bro. Your kid is gonna be a
minute, but we should be quick." He whispered. The man just nodded his
assent. McGraw was familiar with this kind of reaction, the kind you get
when a guy is suddenly confronted with the idea and opportunity that he
might not be as straight as he thought, or at least as he tried to
portray. When a man like Chuck, and there weren't really very many men like
Chuck, gives the approval and the chance to engage in that sort of fantasy,
it's easy to lead them down the right path.

	Guiding the stranger by a hand on his shoulder, the two of them
stepped into the larger bathroom stall.

	"Are you still there, daddy?" The little boy cried out.

	"Yeah buddy," the father replied robotically. "Daddy is gonna go
number two but I'll be right here." The stall door closed, Chuck added some
pressure, and the man sank to his knees on the dirty concrete floor of the
rest stop bathroom. He wrapped both hands around McGraw's steel-hard prick
and paused, looking up to the older man for his approval.

	"Go ahead." Chuck whispered. And the man did. The young father
wasn't very skilled at sucking cock. He'd only done it a handful of times
in high school and college. He'd never even come close to sucking a cock as
big as Chuck's. He stretched his mouth around the blunt head, tasting the
piss and sweat on the head. He savored it. He ran his tongue along the
glands and McGraw let out an appreciable growl. With his hand the younger
man stroked the Chuck's cock. He took into his mouth as much as he could,
which wasn't even half. But after a long morning edge session while
driving, the warm, wet mouth felt terrific on McGraw's dick.

	"That's it, bro. Taste it. Suck my cock bro." Chuck encouraged him,
whispering quietly. The man gained confidence, twisting his mouth around
the older man's cock, bobbing his head back and forth. He used his free
hand to wrap around the large, low hanging, hairy ballsack. "Tug my nuts,
bro. Go on. You can't hurt me. I can take it. Yeah, bro, that feels fucking
amazing!"

	The man was obedient. Chuck rested a hand on the man's head,
guiding him a little more, helping him to take more of his monster dick.

	"Daddy, I'm done!" Came the high-pitched voice of the toddler in
the far stall, breaking the young father from his reverie. A toilet
flushed.

	The young father pulled off of Chuck's cock, panting. "That's a
good job buddy," he said in a raised voice. "Daddy's almost finished." He
looked up at Chuck, who smiled and nodded. "Go wash your hands, okay?"

	"Okay daddy!" The boy said cheerfully.

	They listened as other stall door opened, and heard the boy make
his way to the low sink. Chuck applied pressure to the man's head, guiding
him back onto his dick. The man continued, quietly, but now with more
purpose, racing to the finish. He wanted Chuck's cum. He needed it. He
could already taste it through Chuck's pre-ejaculate.

	Chuck rewarded him. McGraw was never quiet when he orgasmed. He
preferred to be as loud as possible, to be primal, to growl and yell
proudly. And he did attempt to be quiet, for the kid's sake. It came out as
a guttural growl as his pumped his load into the stranger's willing
mouth. It was overwhelming for the man, and he choked on the load. He tried
to swallow it, but when he couldn't he pulled off too soon. Inadvertently
Chuck busted some of his nut on the man's face and shirt. Chuck shot big,
powerful loads and the stranger was left with it dripping down off his
chin. He was a mess, but the stranger was happy, eyes rolling back in
bliss. He'd cum too, shooting his load onto the bathroom floor and Chuck's
old suede combat boots.

	"Who's that daddy?" The boy said. He was lying on the floor,
looking under the gap in the door.

	"Fuck!" Said the boy's father.

	Chuck laughed, pulled his waistband over his cock, which was still
covered in spit and slime, and made his way out of the bathroom. He never
heard the excuses the man made to his son, or later to his wife about why
his shirt was all wet when he tried to wash off the soldier's cum
load. Back at his truck, he pulled a prepared meal from a cooler on the
floorboard on the passenger side. He wolfed it down and chugged some
water. After shucking his shorts back off in the parking lot, and tossing
them across the bench seat, he climbed back up in the truck to head back
out on the road.

	More to cum.

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