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Summer is the best!

SUNDAY, AUGUST 7, 2022

 

cDudeAM RETURNED FROM my summer vacation. Yes. It was wonderful.

I planned on writing more of "The Captain and his Privates" story—the final chapter—but I was too busy enjoying Central Oregon to get much done.

If you've never been to the high desert of Central Oregon, I highly recommend it. When most people thing of my home state, they think: Drizzle, rain, homeless camps in Portland, rain, and more drizzle.

But get this: Did you know that most of Oregon is kinda dry? It's true. The Cascades run down the state, a little bit to the left of center and... well... the stuff on the left side of said range (west) is the drizzly part. MOST of the state is quite dry! It's true! Everything east of the Cascade mountain range is a LOT dryer than the drizzly west.

Who knew?

(Well, as a lifelong Oregonian, I did!)

But why, Seanny, the legs? Those massive, muscular, veiny legs?

Yes, I realize that's the question du jour.

My answer (don't hate me): I was just taking a bath, in my luxury Sunriver suite, and well, I thought you all might enjoy a pic of my legs.* 

So anyway, even though I didn't finish the ultimate chapter of The Captain and his Privates, yet,  now that I'm home, I'm back at it, busy writing! Hang tight! It's coming!

 

*Some or all of the "facts" presented in today's column may or may not be true.

 

 

 

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Sunriver Surrender

MONDAY, JULY 25, 2022

 

cDudeEGINNING THIS SUNDAY (July 31) I will be vacationing at my family's villa* in Central Oregon. The book cover at the right might elucidate the CWS as to my affection for this venue.

Click on the pic, and buy the book if you wanna. It's not specifically about muscle, but it's def. gay. And it's def. close to my own personal experience/fantasies of yore.

The story is from years ago, yet it will always give the reader a glimpse into my favorite summer holidayplace. This is truth.

And also, if you'll be in Sunriver next week, let me know. Would be fun to meet you for coffee or some-such (if you're not some kind of stalker/Charles Manson/Boston Strangler/GOP-mercenary-of-gays kind of person; I do not intend to be murdered or harassed).

That said, I intend to spend much of next week in Sunriver writing the final chapter to "The Captain and his Privates". Yes, sorry, it's barely started, so don't get your hopes up for a reveal before mid-August. Jus' sayin'. But let me say this: The wait will be worth it. Promise.

 

 * You need to believe how horribly rich I am. It's a given, k?

 

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God I love summer

MONDAY, JULY 18, 2022

 

cDudeHERE IS NOTHING, in my opinion, that compares to the wonderfulness of SUMMER—what with all the hot (both temperaturally-speaking, and sexily-speaking) shirtless dudes flaunting their goods everywhere.

It's what I was made for.*

And well, you just won't believe what happened t'other day: So... I was just minding my own business, changing into my sexy Speedos® swimwear in anticipation of taking a dip in the sea, when what to my wondering eyes should appear—outside my changing hut—but this guy.

"Hey, you're Sean Reid Scott, the uber-famous, unbelievably successful, rich, friendly, empathetic, talented, gorgeous dude who writes gay erotica and runs that amazing website... what's it called... muscle stim... stimulation? Muscle Stimulation? That's you, right?" he blurted (obviously flummoxed at my uber presence).

(Normally, I'd have furrowed my brow and corrected him: "Musclestimulus.com, you jerk." But he was so fucking BUILT! Those arms, those shoulders, those pecs, those abs.... Yeah, no brow-furrowing gonna happen here.) "Why, yes. That's me. Are you a fan?" I batted my eyelashes.

"Why, yes, I am," the stud said.

"Why how can I help you?" I asked.

"Why, to be honest, all the changing huts are occupado, if you take my meaning," the hunk smiled. "Are you almost finished in there? Can I take your hut when you're done?"

"Why, actually I'm not quite done. But why don't you just step inside. There's plenty of room in here."

"Oh, why, okay. Maybe I'll do just that," he smiled. "And well... maybe... like... perhaps...."

"Spit it out boy."

"Do you think you might be able to help me get into my Speedos®? They're kinda tight. And I'm a big boy down there, if you take my meaning. I could really use a deft hand."

Funny. I actually pride myself on the deftness of my hand.

So there's that.

OH, and if'n you're interested, CHAPTER 19 of The Captain and his Privates is ready for your perusal.**

 

______

*Yes, I do know that a preposition is something one should never end a sentence with.
**And your masturbatory pleasure. Please pleasure yourself (masturbatorilly-speaking) while you read. And of course, I wanna know if my words make you come. Of course.

 

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Muscles Everywhere

TUESday, JULY 5, 2022

 

cDudeHIS MARINE JUST HAD TO TAKE a break from the Mr. Military Muscle contest... it just got to be too much! Muscles everywhere, and other dudes just whipping it out whenever they wanted. The entire hangar at JBLM was a living, breathing orgy!

So he stepped outside to get some air. Don't worry, though... he'll be going back inside real soon. Maybe he'll reevaluate his stance that kissing and jerking off and having man-sex in public is taboo. We can certainly hope.

Oh... if the next chapter is a little later in coming than usual, I trust you'll forgive me. I've actually barely just started it; I was keeping ahead of posting chapters pretty well, but things have taken more of my time. Fret not, tho. It's coming.

Then, hopefully, you will too.  ;) 

So... you wanna read the latest? (Chapter 18?) Well, you're in luck!

 

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Strength

Sunday, JUNE 26, 2022

 

cDudeHE STRENGTH COMPETITION OF THE Mr. Military Muscle contest continues. It's time to see what will happen! Today's guy is one of the audience members. This pic was taken before he stripped everything off for more Freedom of Expression. 

Thank you all for your many notes of encouragement! I really appreciate the feedback!

 

 

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Who is stronger?

FRIDAY, JUNE 17, 2022

 

cDudeHO REALLY IS STRONGER? The extremely astute visitor to this site will know that your Host is extremely attracted to today's two gorgeous hunks.

On the left, pretending to be a sailor-dude, we have Alessandro Cavagnola. This man is, in my opinion, better looking than God Himself (Please, Lord, forgive my sins, K? We good? Thanks.*). Oh, and helpful hint: Watch this YouTube vid of Alessandro. But here's the real hint: After you watch it the first time, and you're ready to masturbate to it (which, of course), go to the "Settings" thingy on the YouTube and then play Alessandro again, atquarter speed. You're in for a jerk-off treat. Please let me know in the comments if you appreciated this little, no-cost tip.

On the right is none other than Sergi Constance. He's Spanish. He's fucking stunning.

Want I want is to have Alessandro and Sergi have a little fun time. Together. Alone. Nekkid.

Yet, I have no reason to assume that they'd be interested in that (even though Alessandro has actually done some BDSM stuff that is definitely jerk-off worthy). Yet, who cares. I can dream, can't I?

Speaking of dreams, are you ready for the next, dreamy chapter of The Captain and his Privates? I think you are. This is where we get to find out WHO IS STRONGER (a nod at today's post's title). The IMSSPC moves into the  Let's find out, shall we?

 

___________ 

* Since I'm an ex-evangelical, and all my peeps believe in the doctrine of "Eternal Security", even though I left the faith long ago, Jesus and me are like this. I'm in. And I'm pretty sure that according to the Catholics I am "innocently ignorant', which also means, "I'm in." SO, I've got two major religions/denominations backing me up, AND the confession that I'm just sure the Lord Himself has heard and accepted. Aint no one sending this reprobate to hell! 

 

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Time to flex some muscle!

FRIDAY, JUNE 10, 2022

 

cDudeAVID McALLISTER, OUR HERO, is ready to show off his incomparable physique at tonight's IMSSPC (Mr. Military Muscle) show. And you know it will be a fantastic event!

Everyone has gathered in the JBLM hangar cum auditorium to see the muscle spectacle. And the other competitors are worried.

Or are they?

Seems some of the guys feel kinda good about the potential outcome of the Physique/Bodybuilding competition. Is the confidence justified? CLICKAGE HERE will land you the latest chapter in the Captain and his Privates saga (Ch. 15).

 

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On the way to the Contest

SATURDAY, MAY 28, 2022

 

cDudeO THERE I WAS, minding my own business, driving north on I-5* out of Portland. I was on my way up to Tacoma (JBLM to be precise), to attend the Mr. Military Muscle contest.

I had been asked to attend as a representative of the media, so I could write an in-depth exposé of the event. So, armed with my trusty Press Pass, I was on my way.

It's not a long drive from Portland to Tacoma, a couple of hours basically, but as is my wont, I decided to pull off the freeway and get a PayDay and a coffee, as well as tend to any physical urges I might have. (Admittedly, while I had been driving, I had been fantasizing about the upcoming contest, and the panoply of muscle that would be on display there.)

So yeah, I had urges.

Fortunately, the gas station-slash-mini-mart was equipped with a handy dandy restroom. It was a single-occupant restroom. I entered.

"Whoa, big boy! You ever hear of knocking?" the shirtless hunk at the mirror twisted around at me as soon as I opened the door.

"Whoa!" I was startled. "Ex-SQUEEEEZE me, but... YOU'RE the big boy, not me! And 'sides... you ever hear of locking the door when you're taking care of busine... I mean... selfies?"

The dude was stunningly gorgeous, manly, muscular, and... oh fuuuuuuck. If I had a reason to tend to my urges before, I definitely needed to tend to them now. He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. He eyed me up and down, smiling.

"Hey, you're that crack reporter Internet muscle writer, Sean Reid Scott, aren't you?"

I didn't know how he recognized me. I'm world-famous, but only in print, not by my mug. "Uh, yeah. Sorry, man. I'll just wait outside." I started to back out the door, trying to convey humility and embarrassment.

"Nonsense," he grinned. "I kinda get the feeling you weren't coming in here to pee, man. You weren't by any chance stopping in here to tend to any physical urges, were you?"

Fifteen minutes later we both exited the restroom. The dude was also heading to JBLM to watch the contest. Seems he was in the Army and wanted to meet his idol, Captain David McAllister. And well, in a few hours, the two of us would be sitting in the Press section (he as my guest) in a huge hangar at JBLM, watching the weigh-in for the contest. Read all about it: the next chapter of THE CAPTAIN AND HIS PRIVATES.

 

* For you Californicators, let's just settle something, okay? It's simply "I-5", not "The 5." The article "the" is inappropriate, inadvisable and basically... incorrect. K? Just: I-5.

 

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Go By Train

THURSDAY, MAY 12, 2022

 

cDudeOU KNOW HOW I JUST met my new neighbor? From the most recent post? Yeah, that guy. Well, you won't believe this but... A few days after Mr. Neighbor and I got acquainted, I had to leave on a trip for a day or two.

And well... I decided to take the train.

And well.. you won't believe this...* But... while I was all getting comfortable and such, I happened to glance up and see this dude coming down the aisle. And holy fuck on a condom!

The dude was shirtless (was that legal?) and well... shit in a big spittoon, the guy was 100 percent rippling, drool-worthy, jacked, buff, tall, wide, lean MUSCLE! Just all walking down the train's aisle! Like this was... guys like him were... just... normal!

I drooled. Literally, saliva was on my chin as the guy took a seat directly across from me.

I was so fucking hard.

Well anyway, the shirtless muscle hunk opened up his backpack and set out a few containers. I have no idea what they were for because when he looked over at me (with that silly mask on) he smiled, then flexed the closest arm to me.

I immediately started to fill my pants with my jism. TRUTH!

"You okay?" The dude apparently noticed my distress.

I was definitely not okay.

Fortunately, the train had an open sleeping berth. And well, the rest is up to your imagination.

OH! And guess what?! OWEN CHAPTER 6 is up! Yep! Hand-on-heart true! Check it out! (And you won't BELIEVE who happens to show up on Owen's doorstep in this episode. Jus' sayin'.)

[PS: I love you CWSs so much!]

 

* How does this stuff always happen to me? Just lucky, I guess.

 

 

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Meet the New Neighbor; Yes, Please

SUNDAY, may 8, 2022

 

cDudeO THERE I WAS, JUST minding my own business yesterday morning, enjoying my rutabaga omelette (as is my wont)... when what should happen, but my doorbell rang!

WTF? Nobody rings my doorbell! I live in a posh, gated community, complete, with like... SECURITY and everything. So like I said, no one rings doorbells around here.

Yet, I did realize that it is customary, when the bell rings, for one to get up and answer it. I know, because it was something of a Pavlovian reaction in me at that very moment.

I sprinted to the door (certainly pushed by fate) and flung it open in haste, not even availing myself of the little peep hole.

Well... howdy!

You would NOT believe the physique that was standing on my front porch! The man was fucking JACKED! He wore shorts and a white T-shirt with a screen-printed: "Adventures begin with muscle sex." And the man was just... I mean... 110 percent muscle. You know? Arms that could bend metal I-beams... Pecs and shoulders out to here. And fucking legs like the Queen Mary! (I have no idea what that even means, but you'll forgive me if my analogies [ANAL-ogies, heh heh] get a bit convoluted. It happens. 'Specially when Mr. Please-Read-My-T-shirt-And-Then-Have-Muscle-Sex-With-Me interrupts my rutabaga omelette, okay?)

My knees failed, and I had to grab onto the door jam to keep upright. I totally nearly slid down said door jam like a smitten sixth-grade girl just seeing her first muscle man. Just looking at this guy was more torture than I could bear at the moment.

"I'm sorry to bother you," the body said, "but... well... aw shucks... and golly... I'm your new neighbor next door, and well... I just made my coffee and well... I don't have any cream. Do you think I could use some of yours?"

Use... some of my cream? Exactly what would that entail? Was this the Double Entendre Wizard at my door? I mean, fuck! I would love to share my cream with this man. And the fresher the better, you know?

Adventures begin with muscle sex? What the fuck was IN that omelette I'd been eating (besides, of course, rutabagas)? This wasn't... not even remotely possib... could it be?

"I'm sorry," the guy's face was red now and he shuffled his flip-flopped feet on my Spanish Clay Tiles that cost, like $1,000 each. Or something. "I apologize," he went on, "It was presumptuous of me to ask for your cream. I'll just be going."

He turned and walked toward the gate at the far end of my posh, expensive, manicured yard (manicured, except for the weeds you can see at the side of today's picture. It's hard to get reliable help anymore, you know?) and lifted the hook on my posh, expensive gate.

"I don't have any cream," I blurted out. "I mean... I actually have a lot of cream." [Please note: this conversation was the most confusing interaction I have ever had with another entity. I was... I dunno....]

He froze—his muscles tight with anticipation (I'm just sure they were!), then slowly turned to me. He gave me a wan smile and said, "That's okay. It's just that... well, I saw you mowing your lawn the other day and..."

I inwardly shuddered. [The CWS needs to know that I do NOT DO manual labor. It's the lack-of-reliable-help thing that made me mow, you know? So any conclusion that the aforementioned Curious Web Surfer may conclude, regarding my wealth (and my ability to retain good help—not to mention my elite social status), shall not be concluded, okay?]

"...and well, when you were out in the yard with your shirt off, I couldn't help but conclude that you are fucking stacked—if you'll excuse my French." (Of course the man spoke French. The fucker. Could he be any more perfect?) He closed the gate and re-approached me. "It's Seanny, isn't it? I mean... I saw your flowery little name card on the mail box. I like the paisleys, by the way." He gave me a smile. His short beard was not able to hide his adorable dimples. His perfect, glaring teeth made my brain frazzl wi0923n, sid;,weik shsiahe3iog.

I recovered gracefully, despite my momentary disorientation: "Yes, it's Seanny," (you brute).

"Nice to meet you. I'm Brutus. I just moved in last week."

Thankfully, we were still standing far enough away from each other that a hand shake wasn't, at the moment, possible. Had actual physical contact been made between us, I knew I could not be responsible for my subsequent actions. Instead, I nodded—undressing him with my eyes for the 100th time.

"And anyway, when I saw how muscular you are... well, I thought to myself: 'Self? That new neighbor Seanny must certainly have a lot of... er... cream.' You know?"

I actually do happen to have a lot of... cream. It's on the Keto diet, you know? I batted my eyes: "Oh, why thank you."

"So... can I?"

"Can you?"

"Taste it? Your cream?"

I lifted one eyebrow.

He just stood there, holding his coffee cup.

"Actually, it sounds like an... 'adventure'!" I smiled.

I stepped back and made a broad waving motion. "Well, come in then... I'll have to actually make the cream, though. Perhaps you can help me."

 

-- -- -- -- --

OH, AND BTW, Chapter 11 of THE CAPTAIN AND HIS PRIVATES is up! We're giving this chapter the subtitle: "O Captain! My Captain!" Read it, and you'll see why. :) 

 

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