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by Sean Reid Scott 


[NOTICE: This story contains vivid descriptions of homosexual encounters. There's lurid, kinky sex here. Homo sex. It's prolly straight out of HELL, if you're inclined to hold the religious perspective. Really, this story is not for those who button the collar tightly. If you can't stomach this kind of smut, skedaddle. Likewise if you're under 18. Additionally, please note that this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters herein to any person, living or past, is unintentional, coincidental and totally not what the author had in mind.]


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MSCL Force

Maximum-Strength Covert Logistics — An ultra-elite unit of the US Marines,

focusing on strength and endurance (among other things, most of which are Top Secret).

MSCL Men are huge and lean hyper-bodybuilders, with unmatched strength. 




 Christmas on Mt. Hood








ORNING SUN—and the snow on which it shown—lit up the room, creeping around our completely closed blinds.

For the past five minutes, I’d been studying Jett’s adorable face while he slept. He was so good looking. Those eyelashes could have put a mascara company out of business.

Jett’s eyes slowly opened, and he caught me staring. I smiled at him, and he smiled back. God this just felt so good.

“What time is it?” he asked softly.

“Time for another go-round, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Mmmmmm…” he purred. “I’d like that. But have you heard anyone up yet?”

“I think they might be. It’s just before 10 o’clock,” I said.



He gave a furtive glance at the door. “Is it locked?”

“Yeah. I made sure to lock it once I found my cum-stained posers last night.”

He grinned. “I can’t believe I just dropped them on the bed like that.”

“Maybe you wanted me to find them?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I cannot confirm nor deny.”

I chuckled. “Did you know I was gay?”

“Nope. Had no inkling. But I did kinda…hope.”

“So what about Jessica? What was that all about?” I asked.


“Her too.”

He chuckled. “Well, you tell me. You’ve probably dated a girl or to in your time.”

“Guilty as charged.”

He smiled.

“Okay. Enough talking,” I said. I moved my lips to his and we began to kiss.



WE WERE WAY TOO LATE to join everyone for breakfast. But thankfully they saved us some grub.

“All of those Feats of Strength must’ve wiped the two of you out last night, huh?” Bulemia was working on the giant jigsaw puzzle on the side kitchen table when Jett and I emerged into the kitchen.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” I said while Jett and I started looking for food. “We were beat.”

“There’s food in some containers in the fridge,” Bulemia said. “Gamma saved each of you some.”

“Thanks,” Jett said.

We sat at the big kitchen table and started eating. Without looking up from the puzzle Bulemia asked, “So then, I take it you both slept well….”

I frowned at Jett just for a second, out of Bulemia’s sightline. Why was she pressing the point about sleep?

“Yep,” Jett jumped in. “Probably the best sleep I’ve had in…in a long time.”

“Yeah. Me too,” I agreed, chomping down on the microwaved homemade breakfast burrito Gamma had made.

Bulemia lifted her head and looked at us. She studied us.

Their room—her and Roger’s—was the one on the other side of the wall from us. Had they heard us? My heart beat faster.

Finally, she returned her face to her project and said, “Good. I’m glad.”

Jett and I gave each other furtive looks.

“Well there’s the two sleeping beauties,” Roger said as he entered the kitchen. He crossed and kissed Bulemia on the head. “I take it you two got all the exercise you needed last night?”

Jett’s eyes grew suddenly wide. I think mine did too. “Exercise?” I asked.

Roger frowned at us. “Yeah. The Feats of Strength?”

Ohhhhh. Yeah. Fuck. “Oh. Yeah. Yeah it was a fun time,” I scrambled to calm down. Honestly, though, the part that came after the Feats was much more fun.

“You did mighty well on the chin-ups, Jett,” Roger said.

“Thanks. Well at least I beat Connor,” Jett smiled. “Even if I couldn’t touch Luke’s number.”

“Aw Jett,” I chided, “you know what they call the guy who comes in second, right?”

“First loser; I know,” he sighed. 


THAT AFTERNOON WE WENT up the mountainside to do some downhill skiing.

Of course, Jett rode with me (I borrowed Dad’s car for the day). And of course, as usual, Connor found his way into our car as well. Whispy came along too. So…the four of us made our way around to the back side of the mountain—Mt. Hood Meadows.

The weather was great: sunny and cold. And the base was deep—along with many inches of fresh powder. Ideal skiing conditions. We skied all morning, then stopped for lunch in the lodge. It was a great time. Connor and Whispy make a great couple. And it just all turned out nice, since Jett and I make such a good couple too. I know, I know. We certainly were not a couple. But he was certainly in to me. I don’t know how far that in goes, but we definitely got along just fine.

So anyway, yeah. We had a great morning, and lunch. Afterward, we headed back to the lifts, ready for a long afternoon of fun.

Jett and I sat next to each other on the lift; in the lift in front of us Whispy and Connor hugged each other to help with the cold. It was cute. “I need to get one of those battery-powered vests—the kind that warms up,” I said to Jett. “Either that, or someone to snuggle with, like my sister up there has.”

Jett didn’t respond. But in a second he slipped his hand behind my lower back on the bench, and moved close to me. Instinctively, I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. “Yeah, this’ll do,” I said.

“It is pretty cold,” he said resting his head against my shoulder.

“That it is,” I said. Damn, this was cool. If I wasn’t careful, I might have gotten a boner.

We broke our warming embrace and slid off the lift right after Connor and Whispy did. I don’t think they saw that Jett and I were keeping each other warm. I was glad they had been in front of us. For the rest of the afternoon, I made sure we kept the same seating order. Jett actually made some excuse about his ski boots one of the times we were in line, just so they’d get a lift in front of us. That was cool. All afternoon, we snuggled together on the lift. And closer each time too.




NEW YEARS EVE was just a few days away, and Connor had not yet made good on our little wager: he needed to meet Jett and me up in our room for a little tickling. But of course, now that Jett and I were regularly getting intimate, the situation needed some…shall we say…massaging.

“How do you think he’ll respond to you pinning him down?” Jett asked me quietly while we read books up in the loft above the great room.

I shrugged. “He seemed pretty okay with agreeing to it. And when I surpassed his number of chin-ups I looked right at him; I got the distinct impression that he might even be looking forward to paying up.”

“So, what are you going to do? I mean, you’re only going to tickle him, right?”

I looked up from my book and gave a sideways smile. “Jealous?”


“Of me having close physical contact with Connor?”

Jett laughed and frowned at the same time. “I don’t think he’s gay.”

“You didn’t think I was gay.”

“Hmmm… Do you think he might be?”

I shrugged. “Dunno.”

Jett cocked his head to the side just a bit. “But…you intend to find out?”

I smiled. “Maybe.”

“Fuuuuuuuck, Uncle Luke,” Jett whispered. “That’d be kind of…awesome.”

“You like Connor?”

“He’s hot, man,” Jett smiled. Then he frowned again, “…as if you don’t think so too.”

I shrugged again. “Maybe.”

Jett laughed.

“So, if I get…how shall I say…intimate with Connor, will you mind?”

“Mind? Fuck, Uncle Luke, if I could watch you and Connor get intimate, I’d be jerking off like crazy. I definitely want to see some of that!” he laughed. “But seriously, I don’t know that Connor will want to go there.”

Serendipitously, at that moment Connor came into the room and plopped down on the couch next to Jett. He looked at me, “So, Luke, when do you want me to pay up on our little bet?”

I raised my eyebrows. “You want to pay up on the bet?”

“Let’s just say I’m a man of my word.”

“I was thinking you’d try to avoid it—hope I’d forget about it.”

“Like I said, I pay my debts, man,” Connor said nonchalantly.

“Interesting,” I said. “Does Whispy—or anyone else know about the bet?”

“Nope. Haven’t told her about it, or anyone.”

“I see. That makes it easier I guess. I wouldn’t want to have you humiliated. Word gets out about this—and about you actually bringing up that you want it—and well, it might be a bit messy.”

He shrugged. “I’m not afraid. Pretty confident in who I am. Losing isn’t only for losers.”

I chuckled. “Well, okay then. But we’ll just keep this between the three of us. It’s a lot cleaner that way.” I was definitely feeling him out, metaphorically speaking, to see exactly what he expected when I pinned him down and pressed my body against his.

“Sounds good to me.” He was totally relaxed and content with things. 

It was a bit perplexing, so I pressed further. “Okay. Maybe we should lay out some ground rules—to delineate how it’s going to go down,” I said.


“You come up to our room after dinner tonight.”

Connor looked at Jett, then back to me. “He gonna be there?”



“Well, we do share the room. Plus, we need an impartial judge. To make sure the bet is completely satisfied.”

He looked back at Jett. Then to me again. “I doubt I could find a less impartial person in the entire house, man.”

“How do you mean?” Jett inserted, somewhat defensively I thought.

Connor chuckled. “You two have been like Frick & Frack ever since I’ve met you. And it’s only gotten worse during the week.”

“Worse?” I asked.

“More intense,” Connor clarified.

“What do you mean?” I pressed.

“You two are never seen apart, dude.”

“Hmmm… I guess we just like each others’ company,” I said.


“Can we get on with the topic at hand?” Jett snapped.

I looked at him, then Connor, then I sighed. “Okay, well anyway…you come up to our room after dinner.”

“What do I tell Whispy?”

I frowned at him. “Tell her whatever you want. I don’t care. You’re the one who’s keeping the truth from her.”

“What?” Connor pulled back. “What do you mean?”

I chuckled. “I’m just saying, I’m not the one who didn’t tell her about our bet—nor about the way you’re going to have to pay up.”

“You like being held down and tickled?” Jett smiled at Connor.

“What?” He was pulling back now that we were openly talking about things.

“Just tell her you’re going to our room to play a game of Risk.” I said.

“She’ll wanna come.”

“Okay,” Jett said, “tell her you’re coming to our room so Luke can basically lay on top of you and tickle you till you cry, while I watch.”

I laughed.

Connor just frowned.

“You wanna back out?” I asked.

“No. I’m not backing out.”

“Then why the secrecy?”

“I’m just saying…” Connor started, “I…it’s not that big of a deal. But I don’t really want an audience.” His eyes cast daggers at Jett.

“Jett will be there, Connor,” I said. “If you don’t want Whispy there, you’ll have to figure all of that out yourself.”

Connor sighed. “I can take care of things.”

“Okay,” I nodded. “So, you’re coming to our room after dinner tonight.”


“Okay. Well the only other thing you need to do is to wear clothing you can take off easily.”

“Why?” Connor smirked.

“I need access to all of your ticklish places. Wouldn’t really be fair if I had to tickle you without adequate access.”

Connor sighed. He gave Jett a cautious glance, then looked back to me. “Okay. I can handle that. Just one more thing though.”


“When do I get to tickle you?”

Jett’s mouth opened.

“Not part of the bet, dude. How would that ever be part of the bet?” I said.

“Besides,” Jett added, “he’s not ticklish.” That was a blatant lie, as Jett knew from experience these past few days.

Connor raised his eyebrows and asked Jett, “How would you know?” 

Jett didn’t answer.

Connor looked at me. “Is that true?”

“You’ll never have the opportunity to find out, dude,” I smiled.

Connor shrugged. “Well, you can’t blame a guy for asking.”




LATER THAT EVENING before dinner, Jett and I stood at the mirror in our bathroom, getting dressed to go down. 

Well, we actually weren’t getting dressed…yet. Truth be told, Jett had cornered me—again—and was forcing me (yeah) to pose and flex my muscles for him. It had become a thing for us to do, and I’m not sure who enjoyed it more.

While he felt out one of my biceps, Jett asked, “I’m wondering how this is all going to go…after dinner, I mean.”

“How’s that?” I asked while I rotated my forearm and made my Matterhorn peak even higher.

Jett gasped at it. He always gasped at it when I made it peak like that. He recovered, and said, “Well, Connor’s pretty hard to read. I mean, he’s obviously in to Aunt Whispy. I dunno. What are your thoughts…your expectations?”

“Oh, I’m going to just have fun, and see what happens,” I said. I put my arm down and started rolling my pecs; as predicted, Jett’s hands moved off my relaxed arm and onto my chest. “But to be honest, I don’t think he’d be willing to do this—even reminding me about doing this—if he didn’t have some hidden…something.”


Jett’s hands were starting to get me hard. Damn, whenever he felt my muscles he made me hard. 

“Well, let’s just hope that whatever it is that is hidden, is something that’s going to be fun,” Jett said.

I had to put a stop to this or I wouldn’t be able to get downstairs. I stepped back. “Maybe we should get dressed.”

Jett’s face dropped, but he said, “Yeah. Don’t want to make Gamma mad by being late.” 





DINNER HAD BEEN QUIETER than normal; at least I thought so. I was my usual jovial self, but Connor’s regular, enthusiastic contribution to table talk was…well…muted. Jett was a little quieter than usual too. Chalk it up to expectant nerves.

Now, though, all that was behind us. Connor stood in the hall outside our open bedroom door. I motioned him inside then locked the door behind him. Jett reclined on my bed; I think Connor realized that and that’s why his eyebrows rose a bit. He was wondering if this was a regular thing. He met eyes with Jett; his gaze was cold. He really hadn’t wanted Jett to be here.

“You’ll be right here, on Jett’s bed,” I said, explaining how this was going to work.

Connor nodded. “So, what’s the time limit?” he asked.

“Time limit?”

He cocked his head to the side and said, “Well, we’re not going to go at this all night long, are we?”

“Bet was that I’d get to tickle you until you cried.”

“Really?” He was incredulous. “Just how do you expect to do that? I’ve never cried from being tickled in my life!”

“You’ve never been tickled by me.”

He snorted. I think the combination of Jett being in the room and the vagueness of the rules was making him a little pissed.

I offered, “Okay, I’ll defer to Jett’s discretion. He will be able to determine when we’re done.”

Connor looked to Jett again. “What? How is that in any way fair? Why is he the final authority?”

I took a step toward Connor, closing the distance between us. My pectorals sat on top of his chest. “Because I said so. Besides, the bet was…until you cry. That’s what you agreed. I’m just sayin’, if Jett wants to call it off sooner, he can.”

He was staring straight at my Adam’s apple. I could tell he was trying to curl his lips in contempt, but he was totally unsuccessful at it. Instead, his eyes grew and his nostrils flared—and not from anger. He was involuntarily reacting to my scent, and my invasion of his personal space. He pulled his gaze off my enormous chest and raised his eyes to mine. He gave one, shallow nod.

I stepped back. “Okay, strip down,” I ordered.


“You heard me,” I said moving closer again.


I nodded sternly.

“I don’t remember anything in the bet about naked,” he protested.

“Ruling from the judge then,” I said, looking to Jett.

Leaning back on my bed against the pillows at the headboard, Jett had a shit-eating grin. He said one word: “Naked.”

Connor scowled. But the funny thing was, he complied. He stepped back and started to undo his pants. Clearly, he could have simply capitulated this whole thing, and defaulted on the bet—with virtually no consequence. On a foundational level, all three of us knew this was all in fun. But—likely with that fact in mind—Connor apparently wanted to see where this was going to lead. It’s not every day you agree to being held down by a 300 pound muscle man and let him tickle you. Did he, even subconsciously, know—or hope?—that the tickling was bound to lead to something else? He had to. At least now that we were demanding naked he had to.

He steadied himself with one hand on Jett’s bed while he took off his socks, pants and shirt. His delicious torso was just as muscled as before, and I know both Jett and I appreciated his development. This was going to be fun. His arms had to be well over the 17-inch mark—likely a solid 18. And his pecs, shoulders and back were a testament to proportional perfection. He was really good looking, too.

The guy could’ve been a model—an overly-developed model—with muscles to spare.

When he finished undressing and stood tall, now nude, Jett and I were finally able to examine his “goods”. He was big down there. Bigger’n Jett. And he was not exactly totally limp either. He looked at Jett. 

Jett looked back at him, tamping down a smile. Neither man said anything.

“On your back, dude,” I ordered, motioning to Jett’s made bed. 

Connor obeyed.

Without offering an explanation, I started to take my clothes off. Connor had seen me shirtless during the Feats, but his reaction to my muscles was as if this was his first time. I gave him a little show, like I had done for everyone before, downstairs—flexing just a bit, but nothing overt, yet. When I got everything off and stood erect, he literally gasped when he looked at me. I rolled my muscles, tightening all of them just a bit, to give him an idea of exactly what he had here—and what would soon be lying next to him—if not altogether on top of him.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

I gave him a faint smile.

He was getting hard.

I looked at his considerable cock as it expanded on his lower torso. “Thanks for the compliment,” I grinned. Then, again without explanation—as if this is exactly what one does when one strips down, when one weighs over 300 pounds with only the slightest amount of body fat—I broke into a graceful display of muscle wonderment.

At this point, Jett was peeling off his clothes too. I don’t remember Connor even acknowledging that fact. Connor’s eyes were pretty busy at the moment. They never left my flexing, bulging muscles. At least…not until I was done posing and I stood still at the foot of Jett’s bed.

Sure enough, by now Connor was fully erect and gurgling pre-cum. Who knew? Cool thing was, he didn’t care one bit. For Jett’s part, he had totally whipped it out and was naked now as well—and he was as hard as his aunt’s boyfriend. Only difference between the two of them (besides size) was that Jett was freely, openly, unabashedly masturbating at my naked body.

Connor glanced over at Jett and his eyes widened—even more than when he had watched me flex. Evidently, though, his girlfriend’s nephew’s intense appreciation for my physique didn’t phase him. In fact, he started touching himself as well.

I immediately extended my arm toward Connor, holding up my index finger. “No. Put your hands above your head. Grab hold of the headboard,” I ordered.

Sheepishly, and obviously disappointed he wasn’t going to be able to enjoy himself like Jett was, Connor complied with my order.

“Keep them there until we’re done, or until I give you permission,” I commanded. “If you don’t, I have handcuffs.”

Connor’s eyes nearly bugged out. I stepped to my duffel bag and lifted the handcuffs to prove I wasn’t lying. Even though I’m a Marine, and our motto is “Semper Fidelis” (“Always Faithful”), I also follow the motto of US Coast Guard: “Semper Paratus” (“Always Prepared”). You never know when you’re going to need a sturdy pair of handcuffs. I actually planned on holding Connor down with one hand at his wrists, but the handcuffs might be fun too.

I wasn’t aroused yet, but I think I may have mentioned in previous episodes that I’m kinda big. Even limp, my nearly 13-inches of thick manhood curved forward and down over my oversized testicles. I always kept pretty-well trimmed down there, so the boys were able to see everything.

When I had finished posing, Connor fixed his eyes on my cock and balls. Yes, he continuously looked at all of my body, but he always returned his gaze to my genitals. He stared at my manhood now as I approached the side of the bed. Then he looked up at my face. Fearful. He squirmed, not wanting to disobey my orders. I stood at the edge of the bed, my ginormous legs next to his arm. He looked bewildered while he tried to assess the size, definition and vascularity of my upper legs, and then the size of my veiny cock next to his face, and also the immensity and muscular resolution of the rest of my body.

“Holy fuck!” he whispered loudly. “Holy fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

I chuckled. “Thanks. But don’t think your admiration is going to get you out of the bet. It’s time for a little fun.” I stepped toward his head and pulled both of his hands together, securing his wrists with my one hand. He couldn’t have broken my grip if his life depended on it.

Connor’s breathing became quicker and more labored.

“Hey, man,” I comforted as I leaned down to his face. “Relax. This is going to be a kick, I promise.” I looked up at masturbating Jett—who was obviously enjoying the overpowering I was doing—and said, “Jett, we need a safe word.”

Jett stopped jerking himself and thought for a sec. “How about your rank: Corporal”?

“Sounds good to me.” I looked into Connor’s eyes and said, “If you want out—if you don’t want to play anymore, just say the safe word, Corporal, and I’ll stop.”

Connor nodded nervously.

I bent down farther and kissed his forehead, which elicited a squirm. Now to begin: While I held his wrists in my hand, I took my other hand and grazed my fingertips over his arm pit. He squirmed, but didn’t seem overwhelmed by the contact, so I did it again, and again, each time making adjustments to the speed, pressure, direction, and duration of the tickle. He did respond with increased sensitivity, but it soon became apparent that Connor’s arm pits were not overly ticklish.

Jett had resumed his self-pleasuring while he watched my naked body hover over Connor’s naked body. I looked up and winked at him; he smiled.

I gently, lightly touched Connor’s neck and a few other parts. I could have told him to lift his feet so I could tickle them, but I soon decided that tickling was going to have to take a back seat to more…how shall I say…enjoyable practices. 

I started tracing his amazingly well-defined abs. This would make for a good transition from tickling to…whatever it was that I was going to do. Tickling the tummy is an obvious choice, right? I traced over the tick-tack-toe design of Connor’s abdominal muscles—very gently. I ignored his wet, erect, big cock, only passively moving it to the side with the back of my hand when it got in the way of his lower abs. It was delicious interaction nonetheless, and Connor didn’t react a tall to the “incidental” contact. I know I certainly didn’t mind it. His big, thick cock was a throbbing testimony to his masculinity—and to the fact that there was little chance of him using the safe word anytime soon.

He was enjoying my stroking and petting all over his body—too much to actually respond with much of a tickling response. I took that as an encouraging sign that all of this contact was going to end up being much more fun than the childish diversion of tickling. And so, I started to transition into something a bit more…intimate. 

First off, I simply brought more of my palms to the task. Instead of trying to tickle, I moved into a more petting motion. All over his body. All over his big, muscular body. For a non-MSCL Man, he was really something. I felt out his pecs, making sure to give adequate attention to his pouting nipples. He seemed to actually like that. I re-examined his abdominals, making sure to once again brush aside his throbbing cock—totally accidental, I assure you. And again, no reaction from Connor when the back of my hand slid against his shaft.

“Lots of guys are actually ticklish in places they aren’t aware,” I said softly. I moved my hand down, partially onto his muscular quadriceps. I dipped it down into his crotch, just to the side and below his balls. My fingers buried themselves down between his leg and his crotch; my thumb buried itself in his thick, untrimmed pubic hair. “…like right here,” I said, bringing my lips close to his ears.

My line of sight was perfect to see Jett, on the bed next to Connor and me, wanking enthusiastically to what I was doing.

Connor whimpered; my hand was excruciatingly close to his balls and cock, but evidently not…quite…close enough, for his tastes. He actually bucked a bit, arching his back, pushing himself up in an obvious effort to establish more meaningful contact. I kept my hand more on his leg than at his crotch, but still….

“You like this?” I whispered, my lips almost touching his ear. “You seem a bit frustrated, though Connor. Do you want to say the safe word?”

“Uhhhhhhhhng,” he moaned. 

“Alrighty then. I guess I’ll continue.”

I wriggled my thumb in his thick pubes, and made definite contact with the root of his shaft. In response, his cock lifted off his abs, releasing a crystal clear gurgle of pre-cum from his slit. Although I’d definitely touched him there, I made light of the entire contact and moved my hand away from his genitals. I hadn’t even brushed against his balls.

“Hmmmmm, I guess you do like this,” I mused.

Jett’s hand flashed up and down his wet cock. He even gave out an occasional moan. I think he was getting pretty close.

I lifted my head and transitioned to Connor’s chest. I lowered my lips onto one of his nipples and began to suckle. “Does this tickle?”

He moaned.

“No?” I moved to his other nipple and licked it nice and wet before I started nibbling and sucking on it.

He arched his back, pushing himself into my mouth. “Ummmmmmmghh.”

I pulled of for a second: “Oh, I see,” I smiled. My long right arm held his wrists still; I resumed sucking his nipples and licking all over his chest. “This do anything for you?” I kissed his chest now, too. “Maybe not tickle…but certainly you don’t have a problem with this do you?”

“Nnnnn…no,” he whimpered.

“Good. ‘Cuz I really like doing it. If it’s alright with you, dude, I’m just going to continue on then….” I resumed licking, kissing and sucking his pecs and nipples.

“You don’t have to hold my wrists, Luke,” he said breathlessly. “I won’t resist.”

“Well, that kind of takes some of the fun out of it,” I smiled. I pulled my head up and examined his body up and down, “but I think I can make this fun anyway. Okay, I’ll let go,” I said releasing his wrists. He put them on top of his head and remained still. “But you gotta promise to be a good boy, Connor.”

His eyes were closed in sensual overload. “Promise,” he whispered so softly it was more like mouthing the word.

His big biceps bulged in this position. And his armpits looked so inviting. His dark brown armpit hair just begged to be licked. And so I did. I moved my face to his underarm and inhaled his musky scent. Damn. I began tenderly licking his armpit; it was salty and spicy, and delicious.

Connor moaned and squirmed. Yes, he was enjoying this.

After I licked both armpits very, very thoroughly, I stood up tall next to his left shoulder. My cock was thick and it was lengthening. It still drooped downward, but the process had definitely been started. Connor looked at it, only inches away from his face, and I could tell he was salivating over it.

“Put your arms down at your sides and scoot toward the edge, right here,” I ordered, indicating the side of the bed closest to me.

He obeyed, moving close to me.

“Do not move. At all. Even a fraction of an inch. Understand?”

He nodded; those big puppy-dog eyes were so adorable.

“I’m going to place myself on your face, Connor. And if you make any move whatsoever—in response to contact with me—the fun is over and we all get dressed, okay?”

He nodded again.

I had to bend my legs just a tad. As I did, I pushed my hips forward. I lowered my semi-limp cock onto Connor’s forehead. It rested there; my balls pushed agains his left temple. He stared at it, rolling his eyes upward. His breathing was labored.

“Close your eyes,” I said. Slowly, I shifted to the left; my genitals moved over his eyes. I left them there, making sure he felt the warmth and moistness of my shaft on his eyes, my balls resting against his left cheek.

I shifted to the left even more and my cock lay across his closed lips. “Don’t open your mouth. Don’t move.” I held still and let my genitals rest on his closed mouth. Admittedly, I was getting harder now, but I was still limp enough so I could drape myself on top of his lips.

A sudden gasp and quick yelp from Jett grabbed my attention. I looked up to see him squirting his jizz into the air. His body flexed; he moaned and groaned. Of course, this made me even harder. I said softly to Connor, “Don’t move, Connor. You can here Jett blowing his load over all of this, but don’t move. You’ll get to see enough later, I promise.

Connor didn’t respond.

When Jett finally finished his orgasm, he relaxed back onto the bed, totally spent.

“Okay, Connor, I’m going to move you around a little bit. Don’t move unless I do it for you, okay?”

He moved his face in acknowledgement and moaned.

I lifted up, raising my cock and balls off his face. I turned his head so he faced me. “Keep your eyes closed…just like that,” I said. Then I put a finger in his mouth, opening it gently. As I held it open, I placed the helmet of my cock on his lips, inserting just a portion of the head into his mouth.

He didn’t move.

I pushed inside a bit more, but still not even half of my head was inside.

“Holy shiiiiiit,” Jett whispered.

I stuck myself inside a bit more. Connor, his eyes closed, opened his lips to allow it. My cock was firm enough that I could poke it inside all I wanted, so I put it inside so that his lips now wrapped around my helmet. “Don’t move. Don’t suck. Just let it rest where I put it.” I pushed it inside a bit more and his lips accepted an inch of my veiny, thick shaft. God, this felt good. He accepted a few inches of me, and then I pulled back. I played with his mouth—in, then out—for a few minutes. He remained perfectly still, letting me insert and pull out as I wanted. I pulled out all the way, and he left his mouth open, ready to accept it again.

My cock was wet, from both my pre-cum and his saliva. I don’t know how long I did with with him, but it was a long time. I played with his nipple some of the time. His cock was totally hard, bobbing up and down while I played with his face. Finally I pulled out and started moving my cock all over his face again. Cheeks, lips, nose, eyes, forehead…. His cock bobbed and bobbed, dribbling pre-cum all over his abdominals. My pre-cum dribbled all over his face.

“You like this, dude?” I asked softly. “You like feeling my huge cock all over your face?”

He didn’t answer, but the fact that he was holding perfectly still while I kept moving my cock all over his face was answer enough.

Amazingly, Jett had recovered quite quickly, thank-you-very-much, and he was now slowly stroking himself again.

I figured it was time for the next step. “I wonder, since you like feeling this thing on your face…maybe you want to hold it, huh, Connor?”

His eyes opened wide. The thing was now hovering just above his eyes. I straightened my legs, lifting up and away from him. Go ahead, man. You can feel it.”

He didn’t waste much time. He lifted a hand to it and held it. I made sure to remain still. He felt it with a loose hand, seemingly assessing its length and girth…even its weight. He hefted it in his hand. He released it and move his hand under one of my balls. Too big to hold both at once in one hand, he took turns with each one. His long fingertips wrapped under them and tickled me perineum. God, he had a good touch. I sighed, and he was momentarily distracted as he looked up at the expansion of my massive chest.

“You like touching it?” I smiled down. “Go ahead and touch anything you want, man.”

He gave me a long, slow stroke, eliciting a nice dollop of pre-cum.

“If you’re going to make me make a mess like that, you’re gonna need to clean it up, man,” I said. “Go on. Lick that stuff up.”

He brought his tongue to my piss slit and licked it up. Soon he was slathering my entire shaft with his tongue. It took him a minute or so to give all of it the attention it needed. His tongue stroked all over my enormous, veiny shaft. I was now fully erect. He let go of it, letting it just stick up in front of me, and continued to lick it.

Jett was totally back to masturbating again while he watched Connor service my cock.

I gave both of the men a few flexes, tightening my 304 pounds into rippling, hard stone. A bit of a relaxed-most-muscular to start. Then a double biceps while Connor brought a hand up to the root of my cock so he could more easily direct my shaft to where he wanted it. I shifted into a side-chest pose, but made sure I didn’t rotate my cock away from Connor’s worshiping tongue. Then I stood relaxed again.

“You want to stick it in your mouth, don’t you, Connor.” It was a statement, not a question.

His actions were his answer. He pulled my shaft down, and put my piss slit inside his mouth. 

Fuuuuuuck, I was liking this. I rolled my pecs a few times, slowly, and then tightened once again, into a kind of most-muscular.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Jett whimpered while he watched.

Connor propped himself on his left arm now, holding the base of my cock with his left hand. His own boner jutted out and throbbed with his pulse.

He slowly went down on me. Inch by inch. I watched closely as his mouth accepted me. Obviously he’d not be able to get much more than half of me inside, but even so, his warm, wet mouth was amazingly adept at pleasing me. It made me wonder…. He moved his tongue around and around, over and under, while he went down on me. It was outstanding.

He wasn’t so practiced that he was able to overcome his gag reflex though. When he got me in far enough to touch the back of his throat, he choked and pulled back. I knew the problem. A few members of my MSCL Force squad were able to take me in pretty far, but the general population: not so much. No worries, this was hotter ’n hell regardless.

He began to establish a rhythm, and the limits of what he could do. Soon he was giving me an amazing blow job. Again, it made me wonder if his talents were due to instinct, or experience. I put a hand on the back of his head, not to force him in, but to encourage him—and to steady myself. It takes something quite extraordinary to make my knees buckle, but damn, this dude was definitely doing a number on me. 

He blew me for quite awhile. It was hard to pull back, but eventually it was time for the next phase. I pulled out. My cock left his mouth with a loud “pop” and then thwapped up against my abdominals.

“Time for me to put this thing in something other than your mouth, dude,” I said. “That okay with you?”

He looked up at me with wide eyes; most of the color ran out of his face. He very slightly nodded. He looked apprehensive, to say the least.

“You’re not totally new at this, are you man?”

He shook his head.

“Haha. You just never know about someone, right? I smiled, “When I first fucked Jett a few days ago, he wasn’t a virgin either.” I looked over at Jett and smiled. “I think I’ve stretched him out a bit over the past few nights though.” I looked back to Connor: “I promise to go easy. Most guys survive just fine, Connor.” I winked at him and grinned. I don’t know if he appreciated either.

I moved to the foot of the bed and spread his legs, pulling his ass to the edge. I squatted down and stuck a finger into his cherry. “Damn, this is gonna be fun,” I said as I inserted my digit in all the way. I pulled out and had another one join, and then three. “Gotta make sure you’re nice and ready,” I said. Then I pulled my hand back and leaned in; I licked all around his sphincter. He let out a loud groan when my tongue started to explore. His body was trembling now.

I pulled out after a few minutes. I grabbed his ankles and lifted his legs high. “You’ll want to keep your legs up and wide. You’re going to need to spread your ass as wide as you can if you’re going to be able to accept me.” I pushed his legs back farther, and he grasped his calves. “Good. That’ll do,” I said.

I pulled my shaft down and pressed it against his ass hole—just to keep it in place. Then I began my assault. Inside, just a bit. Connor gave no reaction. My head started to open him, and I pushed inside farther. When his sphincter muscles closed around the helmet of my cock, I paused.

“Nice,” I smiled. “You’re gonna be nice and tight.” I held still for a moment, to let him adjust. Before I went in any farther, I hit a few poses. Damn, you don’t know how hot it is to flex your muscles for a guy while you’re invading him. I relaxed and started pressing inside farther.

Connor’s eyes got bigger and he gasped.

I continued.

He yelled.

I continued inside, farther and farther. When I got in as far as I thought prudent at this early stage, I stopped and waited.

Connor’s eyes were watering, but he looked determined to take whatever I could give out. If he only knew….

I pulled out just an inch or so, leaned forward, and took his throbbing man-cock in my hand and started feeling him out down there. He was a big guy, for sure. I gave him some strokes. “This thing is nice and hard, Connor. Something tells me you’re enjoying all of this,” I said.

He didn’t respond.

I released his cock and resumed my attack on his anus. I pushed in again, the farthest so far. He was shaking his head, whimpering. I decided to “rip the bandage off all at once” as it were: I shoved all of myself inside him, while I fell forward on top of him, pressing my huge body on his.

The pain of accepting all of me at once like that was understandably overwhelming. Connor let out an anguished yell; it was loud. As I landed on top of him, our chests pressing against each others, I immediately enveloped his mouth with mine. He continued screaming into my mouth at a considerably quieter decibel level.

I knew I was hurting the guy, but damn, he was just so fucking hot. And I could sense that he was loving every second of it. I pushed my pubes against his anus, then relaxed. When he was done screaming into my mouth, he began breathing through widening, flaring nostrils—heavy, labored breaths. But he’d stopped yelling, so I took that as a good sign.

I began to rock inside him. I enveloped him with my wide back, resting some of my weight on my forearms, outside of his shoulders. He put his hands on my back muscles and moved them. I could tell he was inspecting every mound and lean lump of my back muscles, my shoulders and arms. And my ass. Damn, the guy was like a kid in an amusement park! He moaned. I moaned while I increased my pace, and the depth of my stroke inside him.

I curved my back with my inward pushes, then straightened out. I ravaged Connor’s mouth with my tongue, and he ravaged mine back.

Suddenly, I felt Jett’s jizz raining on my back. Apparently he’d joined us at bedside and was standing over us. He yipped and groaned as he watered my back with warm globs of semen.

And the timing was perfect. Next, Connor exploded with a geyser of cum, shooting out ejaculation after ejaculation of his seed between us. Both our torsos quickly became wet with his orgasm.

Like clockwork, next it was my turn. This was one of those times when I wish I wasn’t so damn strong. If I would have just let go and tightened my body as I wanted, I would have crushed Connor’s—admittedly strong—shoulders in my grip. I’m serious. It’s happened before, and I had to learn my lesson the hard way. Cracked clavicles and rotator cuffs are not what you want to do to a guy you’re having sex with. So, as I always have to do—with a non-MSCL Force guy—I restrained myself. Nevertheless, I know it hurt him. If not my crushing arms, then for sure the cyclone of cum that I was gushing into Connor’s ass. He yelled, and once again I had to stifle his mouth with mine.

When I was done, I collapsed on top of Connor. Damn, that was a fine one.

When we started to clean up, I quickly realized this was going to take some work. Fuck: Between the stuff that dribbled out from between Connor and me, the copious amount of fluid that flowed off my back from Jett, and the large—really large—deposit that fell onto the sheet when I pulled out of Connor, there was a lot of jizz there.

“I’ll take the sheets down and put them in the wash,” Jett offered.

“Just make sure no one sees you,” I said. Jett and I had been doing this very same thing the past few days. On one day, we had to wash two sets of sheets. You’d think we could come up with a better way…. I had my suspicions that some of the women-folk had wondered why Jett and I needed to do so much laundry.



THE EVENTS OF THAT EVENING set in motion a slew of reverberations—aftershocks, really, of what the three of us had done. Together.

Jett and I, infatuated with each other—although both of us knew it was way too soon to use the “L” word—used the next few days before New Year’s to work through the disappointment of not being together for the next year. We both knew our future relationship would only amount to brief encounters.

Sure, those encounters wouldn’t have to be hidden anymore. Connor had seen to that. Although, in truth, it wasn’t his fault that we were outed. After the three of us had cleaned up and stripped the sheets off Jett’s bed, Connor volunteered to take them down and throw them in the washing machine. Seems there were some clothes already in the machine, so Connor just put the sheets in a laundry basket to be washed later. Then he returned to his and Whispy’s room.

Apparently, Jett’s mom—my sister—Renaé had some wash to do too, and when she spotted the cum-stained sheets in the basket she got curious. Really curious. She came upstairs and knocked on our bedroom door. Since we’d been going through sheets like yesterday’s newspaper, we didn’t have a new set for Jett’s bed. But we’d been sleeping in one bed anyway, for quite a few nights now. And that’s where Renaé found her son and her brother.

In the same bed.

Both of us nekkid.

I don’t know if I’ll ever understand why, when she knocked on our door and got no answer (while Jett and I were scrambling to un-knot ourselves from our passionate embrace and separate into two beds), she just felt the freedom to open it and stick her head inside. (In retrospect, maybe I should’ve called out, “Just a minute!”)

Jett had not made it out of my bed—well, he had partially made it out of bed. And well…it was obvious that he and I were sharing a bed. Add to that the mortifyingly (can one adverbalize mortify?) embarrassing fact that both of us were totally naked, and Jett was trying desperately to pull himself out of bed. When he saw his mother in the doorway, Jett just stood up, in all his glory, full erection and everything—right in front of his mom. And there I was, still in the bed, scrambling to cover my naked body, yet not totally successfully: I had a boner of my own going on, and well…there’s nothing like showing your (overgrown) erect self to your sister—while her son, with his own hard-on, is scurrying to hide himself, looking as guilty as Sylvester the Cat after swallowing Tweety-bird.

All in all, the next few days were…weird. I’d called a family meeting to officially come out; Jett came out at that point too. Family members took the opportunity to discuss things with each of us (Jett and me) individually, so that was good. I think a lot of people were uncomfortable, but I think both Jett and I muddled through it pretty well.

So anyway, yeah. We were now out. And that made for a weird few days with the family. I never saw Connor after that week; Whispy never mentioned his participation in the ménage. 

NEW YEAR’S DAY was bittersweet. Sure, we all were looking forward to the festivities of the night, but tomorrow was the day we’d all depart for home. Jett and I were up in our room, after breakfast, preparing to drive down the mountain.

“You’re down,” I said as we folded clothes into our bags.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Me too,” I said.

“So, what happens from here? I mean, you’re going back to your secret base, and I’m going back to San Diego.”

“Yup.” I looked at him thoughtfully. “It’s the pits.”

He nodded, then continued packing. “I mean, it’s not like I’m looking for a relationship—well, maybe. But I honestly just want to be with you, Luke. For fun, and for the interaction.”

“I feel the exact same way, man. But life is life. Maybe I’ll be able to take some leave in a month or two, and I could travel to San Diego for a long weekend.”

His face lit up. “That’d be cool, Uncle Luke. I’d really like that.” 

Yet we both knew our future relationship would only amount to brief encounters.

Jett and I did meet up a few times; whenever I had training or an assignment in California, I made a point of paying him a visit.



Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you! 





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©© 2019, Sean Reid Scott

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