Date: Mon, 3 Apr 2023 23:02:40 +0000 (UTC)
From: Hunter Green <huntergreenmuscle@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chuck McGraw Chapter 28

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

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Chapt 28
2012
El Paso, Texas
Buddy Fucker

	"Fuckin'A buddy!" Joe said, clinking the neck of his beer bottle
against McGraw's, outstretched over the table, "You should have seen this
motherfucker, Jackson! I mean I ain't no slouch in the sack, never have
been. But this son of a bitch don't quit! He fucked both of those bitches
almost all fuckin' night. I got off twice, but I lost count how many nuts
McGraw busted. And three hours later he's out there leading PT like he's
had 9 hours of fuckin' sleep while I'm dragging' ass!"

	MSG Chuck McGraw was sitting around a table at a titty bar in El
Paso, Texas, just outside of Fort Bliss, with a couple of other Soldiers
from the Sergeants Major Academy class, Joe Waller and Ernie Jackson. Joe
was telling Ernie about one night earlier in the week when he and Chuck had
picked up a couple of chicks from bar and taken them back to McGraw's
apartment to fuck.

	"I don't know how you do it, man. I feel old every fuckin' day, but
you're the biggest fuckin' stud I've ever seen. It's like you're a
make-believe fuckin' pornstar superhero or something!" Waller said and
chugged down his beer while waving for one of the topless waitresses to
come over for another round.

	The other Soldiers were of a similar age, in their early 40's and
fit. They had to be to make it this far and this successfully in the
Army. Among most men in their peer group, they'd be considered athletic,
strong, and envied. Jackson was six foot tall, handsome with inky black
skin, a shaved head, and a build that spoke to his years of
weightlifting. Waller was the shortest of the trio at 5'10" but was solidly
packed with muscle. His hair was still thick and dark, with hardly any grey
at all. But they were both no comparison to McGraw.

	He'd just turned 43 years old, and at six-foot-four and a
rock-solid 265 lbs. pounds, he towered over the other men. He had the
physique of a bodybuilder, because he was one. He'd been in a few shows and
won some amateur ones. He was training for a master's competition this
summer, something he was looking forward to because it'd be his eldest
son's first time entering a contest as well. Chuck had a tight 32-inch
waist with visible abs, a wide shelf of a chest, bulging arms that were
22.5 inches when flexed, sweeping quads that were 30 inches thick, and even
a wide square muscled ass that made women and gay men jealous. Thick veins
made a road map of his skin. He was covered in tattoos, with two full
sleeves, his back, his chest, and even his legs sporting a history of
artwork. His hair, worn in a Marine Corps Recon-style high and tight flat
top, and a heavy mustache that pushed the regulation to the limit, had gone
from dark to a salt and pepper. The few lines that crossed his tan face
after a lifetime of working outdoors in harsh conditions only seems to
accentuate his masculine features, his wide nose, cheek bones, comically
square jaw, and signature scowl.

	He was a walking, talking GI Joe, and he knew it. He also knew he
had the biggest dick in the room. But that was no secret either. His huge
legs made his combat uniform tight where it was designed to be baggy, and
you could see a notable bulge snaking down the inside of his left pant
leg. He never wore underwear, didn't even own any, and he wasn't shy about
showing it off. He loved being watched, putting on a show, being stared at
and admired. He got off on it. In civilian clothes he either wore tight
Levi's that clung to his cock, or gym shorts that were often too short,
that he easily, "accidentally" fell out of. He was naked as often as
possible. In the gym locker rooms he strutted around without a towel, in
the shower, the steam room, or shaving in front of the mirror. Driving in
his truck he more often than not dropped trou, playing with his monster
cock while he drove. He was a chronic masturbator, always playing with
himself. He was also a sex addict and loved to get his dick wet whenever,
however, and with whoever. He knew he was the biggest and the best and he
wanted everyone else to know it too.

	Waller was married and lived off post with his wife and kids, but
like a lot of military guys loved to get away with cheating on his wife if
he could. He'd been training in the gym with McGraw for a few months,
trying to keep up while they went through the Sergeants Major Academy
together. They'd often hang out and hooked up with women together
too. They'd go back to Chuck's bachelor pad to fuck while Waller told his
wife he was still training with McGraw or some other bullshit excuse. But
this past night in question Waller's wife was out of town with the kids
visiting her parents, so Joe was free to get his freak on without
excuses. They'd picked up a pair of chicks they'd hooked up with separately
before. In the end, Waller had crashed exhausted on the couch while McGraw
went another round and fucked both women into the early hours.

	"Do you fuck like that all the time, McGraw, or were you showing
off for me, you energizer bunny mother fucker?" Joe asked Chuck.

	"I don't need to show off for you." McGraw said. "It's not my fault
you can't keep up with a real man like myself."

	The men kept joking and trading stories as they drank and enjoyed
themselves. The girls at Jaguars were used to Soldiers from Fort Bliss and
didn't blink twice at a wedding ring. A few of them were prior service
themselves.

	Later in the night when Jackson was off getting a private lap
dance, Waller and McGraw were talking about their families. McGraw's sons
were spending most of the year with their mother and stepfather in
Kentucky, at Fort Knox while Chuck was in school at Fort Bliss. Bobby was
17, nearly 18 now, and gearing up to enlist just like his father. He was
the spitting image of Chuck at the same age, maybe in even better shape. He
was entering a bodybuilding contest this summer, and then planned to leave
for OSUT at Benning right after. Tyler, Chuck's youngest son, was 14, a
superb student, and, at least to everyone but Chuck and Bobby, an angel who
never got in trouble. In reality they two of them were as sex-addicted and
perverted as their old man. Bobby, like his dad, loved pussy as much as he
loved ass and getting his cock sucked. The two men had identical cocks too,
ten inches long and seven fat on the base, with wide, blunt uncut cock
heads. Bobby had actually taken over one of his dad's old fuck boys, now a
Captain serving at Knox, as his own personal dedicated cocksucker. CPT Fogg
and his boyfriend regularly entertained the teen, and even spoiled him. In
exchange for regularly getting dicked-down and dominated by the hung
younger man, Fogg bought Bobby a Harley Davidson that Chuck had convinced
his ex-wife was a gift from him. Meanwhile Tyler was a faggot who loved
cock, especially the cock from older men. When he wasn't sucking off his
own brother, or his former soccer coach (another NCO and buddy of Chuck's),
the boy was seducing men left and right; at school, around town, or at the
base gym (that he technically wasn't old enough to go to on his own, but a
BJ now and then to the facilities manager, and the fact that he knew his
way around the gym better than men twice his age, and they looked the other
way). Chuck had already heard stories about the small sauna at the out of
the way Otto Fitness Center and the number of horny Drill Sergeants the boy
took care of regularly.

	Of course, those perverted secrets weren't shared with Waller. But
he knew the boys. McGraw and Waller had served together off and on over the
years. They'd deployed in the same units, served on the same bases, and
their careers kept bringing them back together. Waller was on his third
marriage. A wandering eye and a hearty libido kept getting him in trouble
that he wasn't smart enough to get out of. More than once he's crashed on
Chuck's couch when one of his wives had kicked him out. They'd become buds,
but Chuck hadn't seen much of him the last few years, not since Waller got
stationed first in Germany, and then California. The last time the two
families had hung out, Waller was newly married and had a four-year-old
son. Since then, he'd had two more kids with his current wife, both girls.

	"Shit man, your boy is already a fucking man!" Waller said to Chuck
as they looked at a pic of Bobby on Chuck's phone. "Talk about a chip off
the block. Kid's a whole ass boulder!" Waller's words were slurring after
the liquor. "Bet he's nailing pussy left and right, just like his old man!
You a grandpa yet?" He teased.

	"Naw, I taught Bobby the right and wrong places to stick his dick
so he don't get himself in trouble. He may look as dumb as me, but his a
little smarter."

	"And little Ty ain't so little anymore neither. How's a kid like
that turn into a brick shithouse that fuckin' young, dude?"

	"Good diet and training," Chuck said, "and a healthy dose of
superior genes!" He laughed, grabbing his cock through his denim. It was
also the right concoction of chemical supplements supplied by his father
and some intelligent doctors and trainers. Ty had already done his first
cycle of gear and was showing a lot of progress.

	"Fuck man, you must be so fucking proud to have a couple of men
like that for boys. My son, shit bro, I just don't know. He's nothing like
me."

	Chuck let Waller talk. He'd heard men talk like this about their
sons before, and he had an inkling about where it was going. It only took a
few minutes and probing questions to get there. It was clear that Waller
was worried about his son, and likely even ashamed. The pre-teen wasn't
athletic, had no interest in sports, was the quiet, academic sort. He was
artistic and like to draw. While these were all true traits of the young
kid, they were also euphemisms for something else.

	"I think the kid is gonna turn out queer." Waller said, sadly.

	There it was. The fear so many men have about their sons. So many
men never understood how amazing it was to have a cocksucker for a
son. Women mostly tolerate dick. Some even like it. But a faggot loves dick
like only a man can. They crave it, will do anything for it. A fag lives
for dick and will risk everything at the chance of sucking a cock or
getting fucked. It was practically a religion, and they'd risk their
families, jobs, and lives for it if the right chance came along. But then
most straight men never learn that lesson, whether the cocksucker in
question is under their own roof or not.

	Chuck comforted his buddy, told him it's too early to know shit
like that, you never know what the future may bring, empty
platitudes. Chuck was already scheming to find out for himself if his good
buddy's kid was queer.

	About then they were interrupted as Jackson came back from his "lap
dance."

	"The bitch charged me an extra fifty just to finger my butt, can
you believe that shit?"

	A few weeks later the weather in Texas was warm enough that Waller
decided to throw a little cookout. He invited most of the men from their
class, along with their families, to the house he was renting for the
year. About two dozen men with their families showed up and Waller was
manning his oversized grill. Chuck was there, socializing, playing
horseshoes, even flirting playfully with a few of the wives as they noticed
how much bigger he was than the other men. He was dressed casually, in
jeans, boots, and an old tattered black Harley shirt that hugged his arms
and hung from his chest. But the entire time he was being friendly he had
something else in mind.

	Waller's son, Danny, lurked around the party, clearly
uncomfortable. The twelve-year-old was skinny, small, and had a mop of dark
hair and olive skin, inherited from his Hispanic mother. He mostly stayed
indoors, maybe hovering in the sliding glass door that led to the
kitchen. He was staring, watching. And Chuck could tell that the boy was
watching the men. He'd seen it a thousand times. The boy was fascinated by
the military men gathered in his back yard, with the ease of masculine
camaraderie, the posturing, the over-the-top way military men were with
each other, the foul language, and the tactile nature of their
bonding. There was a hunger there from the boy, to understand, to be part
of such a group. But below it all was the dawning of sexuality.

	Chuck planned his moment the best he could. Joe was busy with a
loaded grill playing host and his wife had one too many hard pink lemonades
and was laughing with a group of women in the shade around a table.

	"I'm gonna take a piss." Chuck told one of the other soldiers,
handing off his horseshoes and heading into the house. One his way in he
handed Joe another cold beer from the cooler, grabbing one for himself as
well, and then stepping into the quieter shade of the kitchen. He'd timed
it so that he walked in just behind one of the other men, knowing that he
had to piss too, and would use the downstairs toilet, the public one.

	Danny was in the living room, watching TV. Chuck walked up behind
him, and stood behind the couch.

	"Hey sport, whatcha watching?" He said in a friendly manner.

	The boy jumped from being addressed, but managed to stutter out,
"Nothing, really."

	"Hey, I really need to take a piss," Chuck said, letting his left
hand rub up and down the obvious bulge of his cock through his jeans. "This
one is full." Here he indicated with his thumb the powder room. "Is there
another bathroom I can use?"

	"Sure." Danny said warily, "upstairs."

	"Can you show me, sport?" Chuck asked, smiling.

	"Sure." Danny replied, unsuspectingly. He got up and Chuck followed
the boy up the narrow staircase. Upstairs at one end of the hallway was a
bathroom with the two kids' bedrooms on either side.

	"Here you go," said Danny awkwardly.

	"Thanks, buddy." Chuck said as he brushed by the kid. He was sure
to be as close as possible to the boy in the narrow hallway, letting his
large, muscular, hairy body brush lightly up against the young slender
teen. The top of Danny's head didn't even reach Chuck's pecs. Just before
he moved all the way past him, he paused, and laid a heavy hand on the
kid's shoulder. The kid could smell the beer on his breath, and the musky
sweat of the older man.

	"You know, you're about the same age as my son Tyler. I bet the two
of you would get along great." He reached into his pocket and pulled out
his phone, opening the photo app. "See. This is him."

	Danny looked down at the pic of Chuck and his son, one taken in
their home gym in the garage. Chuck's younger son Tyler was in a jockstrap,
flexing for the camera. If you looked closely there was a large wall
mounted mirror behind the boy, and you could just make out the reflection
of Chuck taking the picture. Naturally he was naked.

	"Oh, yeah?" Danny said, uncertainly. "He looks way older."

	"Your dad said you're twelve now?" Danny nodded in affirmation,
still trapped in the doorframe by the looming bodybuilder. "I took that pic
just last year when Ty was thirteen. He just likes to workout with his old
man a lot."

	"Is he here too?" Danny asked.

	"Naw," Chuck drawled, "He's in Kentucky with his mama. I sure do
miss him though." He leaned in closer as he spoke. "That there is an album
of me and him working out. See." Chuck used his finger to swipe to the next
few pictures showing Ty and him in the garage gym. Three pictures later and
it was a picture of Tyler as seen from above, on his knees sucking his
dad's huge cock while he looked up adoringly. "Oops, probably shouldn't
have shown you that." Chuck said, putting his phone back in his pocket.

	"Here," Chuck said, "hold this while I piss." He handed his cold
bottle of beer to the kid and stepped inside the small bathroom. He made no
move to close the door, but loosened his belt and popped the buttons on his
501s, before hauling out his monster cock and started pissing loudly in the
open toilet bowl.

	Danny was shocked and stood awkwardly in the hallway. He was frozen
in place, confused, and turned on.

	"Ugh fuck, that feels good." Chuck said loudly, moaning. "What do
you think of my boy Ty?" Chuck asked.

	"Uh," Danny stumbled. "He's really big."

	"Yeah. Both my boys work out with me a lot. Trying to keep up with
their old man. Of course, it helps them be popular. My older son Bobby has
girls all over him, and Ty has all kinds of guys that want to be his
boyfriend."

	Danny was shocked. "Guys?"

	"Oh yeah. Tyler is gay. He came out to me years ago. He's gonna
break a lot of guys hearts someday."

	"You're okay with that?" The boy was practically whispering. "With
your son?"

	"Fuck, why shouldn't I be? Ain't a thing wrong with it. This world
has all types in it. I fuckin' love gay guys."

	Chuck's powerful stream slowed as his bladder emptied. He shook his
cock spraying piss drops across the toilet.

	"Fuck!" He said, just a little too forcefully, making Danny
jump. "Shit where's the toilet paper? I made a mess."

	"It's behind you. On the wall." Danny said.

	"Where?" Chuck said, feigning confusion.

	"It's there." Danny said, stepping into the room to point behind
Chuck.

	"Where?" Chuck asked, pretending to look around.

	Danny took another step into the room. "Right here," he said as he
reached behind the man to touch the toilet paper holder mounted to the wall
opposite the toilet.

	Now that the boy was close enough, Chuck spun around a quarter turn
toward Danny. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, as if to steady
himself, pretending to stumble. At the same time, he gave his hips enough
momentum so that his heavy flaccid cock spun, hitting the boy in the
stomach and getting his shirt wet with a few drops of piss.

	"Shit!" Chuck feigned again. "Sorry man. This thing has a mind of
its own, especially if I've been drinking." Chuck grabbed at his cock for
emphasis. "Help me clean up before your dad finds out?"

	It was so natural and almost innocent a question that the boy
didn't pick up on how easily he was being manipulated. He grabbed a handful
of paper and wiped down the toilet seat and counter where Chuck's piss had
landed.

	"Here, hold that out for me." Chuck said indicating the wad of
toilet paper, and the boy complied. Chuck grabbed the kid by the wrist and
held his hand with the wad of damp toilet paper just below his exposed
cock. Then he used his other hand to milk his dick from root to tip,
squeezing out a few more drops of piss onto the paper. Then he did it again
and again, until he was dry. But by then he'd let his dick get hard. It was
swelling to its full girthy ten inches.

	"I'm always a fuckin' mess. Thanks kid. Now toss it in the toilet
and flush for me."

	Again, Danny did what he was told without thinking. He was a
natural at following orders.

	"Good boy." Chuck praised him.

	He let that hang in the air. One hand was resting on the boy's
shoulder, heavy, holding him in place. With the other he was slowly
stroking his hard ten-inch cock.

	"Fuck little buddy. Sorry. Like I said my big ol'dick has a mind of
its own when I've been drinking."

	"It's É it's okay, sir." The boy stuttered, his eyes locked on
the mesmerizing meat.

	"Do you mind if I have my beer back?"

	The boy had forgotten he was holding the bottle.

	"Oh! Sure. Sorry!"

	"It's alright," Chuck said, removing his hand from his dick to take
the bottle. He took a long swig of beer and flexed his kegel muscles so
that his hard cock, sticking straight out from his body, jumped. Beneath
his other hand he felt the boy flinch in surprise.

	"Do you like what you see boy?"

	Danny was speechless, still not willing to admit his true feelings.

	"It's alright that you do. Why don't you reach out and touch it. Go
on. Grab a hold my cock."

	Hesitantly the young boy reached forward. He slowly explored the
rigid prick. The skin was stretched tight over the veiny shaft. The
foreskin sprung back to expose the glans as his hand slid over the
cockhead. The man's dick was blazing hot to the touch.

	"Grab a hold of it, sport. Give a squeeze.'

	The boy could barely fit his small hand around the middle of the
cock. He wouldn't be able to at the root where Chuck was thicker. He could
feel the man's pulse through the thick vein that snaked across the top of
the cock.

	Chuck pulled the boy even closer so that his scent and beer breath
washed over the boy as he leaned down.

	"Stroke it for me, Danny."

	The boy did his best, but he'd never touched another dick other
than his own little boy cock. He was clumsy.

	Chuck reached down and using a finger lifted the boy's chin,
forcing him to look up. Chuck bent down until their noses were almost
touching.

	"Do you want to try sucking my cock, Danny?"

	The boy murmured, and tried to nod his head, but the force of
Chuck's single finger under his chin held him in place.

	"I need you to tell me Danny. Tell me what you want."

	"I want to suck your Écock" It was probably the first time the
boy had ever said such a dirty word. He whispered it.

	"Louder, Danny. I can't hear you."

	"I want to suck your cock, please, Sir." It was still barely above
a whisper and the boy's voice cracked as his spoke.

	"Good boy." Chuck said quietly and let his lip curl into a smile
for the boy. "Take me to your bedroom."

	In a few moments Chuck was standing in the pre-teen's small
bedroom, surrounded by the boy's childhood toys, and books, and
cartoon-character bedspread. The boy himself was on his knees, the head of
Chuck's cock stretching his small mouth. The older man guided him gently,
gave him a brief lesson on how to suck cock, to watch out for the teeth, to
breathe through the nose, to tug on the nutsack or stroke the shaft. The
kid applied ever lesson as it was given to him, but there was no hope he'd
even get half of the man's cock in his mouth, not this time. Not the first
time.

	For his efforts, amateur as they were, Chuck rewarded him with a
load of cum, the first the little faggot would ever taste, but not the
last. Holding him by a fistful of hair in one hand, Chuck used the other to
pound his own dick, covered with spit and lubed with precum, until his
large nutsack drew up and he came. He grunted and cursed, quieter than
usual in case anyone was in the house who could hear. He told the boy to
open his mouth and try to swallow as much as he could, but McGraw always
came buckets. The kid never had a chance. The little boy's face was covered
with Chuck's perverted load and his t-shirt was soaked.

	"Lick me clean, Danny." The boy did his best to comply. "That's it,
sport. Good boy. You always want to make sure that after you've satisfied a
man that you clean him up afterward. That's what a good faggot does."

	The boy started at being called a faggot, but Chuck assured him it
was okay. "It's not a bad thing to be a faggot, Danny. My son Tyler is a
faggot, and I couldn't love him more. The boy loves sucking cock and
getting fucked by men. Mostly by me, but also by his brother and other
men. He's a good faggot. I've trained him well. I can train you to be the
best faggot you can be too."

	The boy smiled up and ran his tongue up and down McGraw's shaft and
even sucked the cum from his fingers when he offered them to him.

	"Have you started cumming yet?" Chucked asked the boy.

	"Yes, Sir." Danny said proudly.

	"Show me, sport."

	Danny stood up and chuck made Danny drop his shorts. The boy's
little prick was hard, and it only took a few strokes until he was
ready. Chuck held his hand out, catching the milky load in his palm.

	"Eat it up, kid." Chuck ordered. Danny hesitated, but then leaned
over and licked at his own load like a kitten. "Never waste cum. No a
man's, or your own. I want you to eat every load you shoot from now on."
Chuck took his callused hand and forced the rest of the boy's cum into his
mouth.

      Then Chuck stuffed his prick back into his jeans and did up his fly
and belt. He told the boy to clean himself up, but he gave him special
instructions to hold onto the cum soaked shirt, to hide it where his family
would never find it. He told the boy that when he plays with is dick that
he should use the shirt, put it over his face and smell Chuck's spunk. He
also gave the boy his phone number and told him how to keep it a secret,
especially from his dad.

	Then Chuck opened the door a crack, peaked into the hallway to make
sure the way was clear, and then headed back downstairs and out to the
cookout, where he grabbed a fresh beer from the cooler and headed over to
chat with the kid's father.

	Joe's son was definitely queer. He wasn't sure he was going to tell
his buddy that. He and Joe had shared a lot of pussy over the years, but
Waller had no idea the levels of perversion that McGraw got up to, with his
own sons, or with the sons of other men. Joe was plating burgers and hot
dogs. Chuck had worked up and appetite and started shooting the shit with
his good buddy. He had a few more months at the Sergeant Majors Academy,
until July, to break the boy in. The kid needed a lot of training if he was
going to be a half-way decent faggot. It wasn't really enough time to do it
gently. He felt his dick chub up again, and a fresh drip of precum start as
he imagined what it would take to get the boy ready to be fucked in the ass
in the time he had left. A boy's first time should always be memorable, and
Chuck liked to make sure that after him no man could ever measure up.



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