Gay Erotic Stories

Vol. 7 CHAPTER 1 It was November 20th. Joe Cockran, lumberjack, had just finished a six-month stint at the Hardwood Lumber Camp in the deep woods of the State of Columbia. He was driving his 4 X 4 Jeep to the nearest community, Fawcett City, where his paychecks had been electronically deposited each month. Joe was 33 years of age and a giant among men. With the exception of his cabin-mate, Brad O'Connor, his 6'4", 320 lb. frame towered over his fellow woodsmen. His powerful, muscular build was man-made and resulted from years of hard work. His body hair was jet black and he had lots of it. He had bushy eyebrows and a well-trimmed beard and moustache surrounded his full lips. His neck and shoulders reminded one of a raging bull in a bullfighting arena. His massive biceps stretched the flannel of his plaid shirt with every movement and his hairy forearms were as thick as the logs he chopped. The hands gripping his ax were the size of a catcher's mitt. Light gray pants covered his hard, rippling bubble butt and tree trunk legs and were tucked inside heavy, black logger's boots. A thick mat of hair swirled around his hulking pecs, trailed down his mid-riff and flared out over his hard belly. His 1½" ever-erect thick, leathery nipples projected sensuously through the dense black hair over his rounded pecs and constantly rubbed erotically against the flannel of his shirt. Like the other men he wore long johns during the cold autumn season. However, his thick circumcised cock, which measured 10" when aroused, was clearly outlined down his left leg as was his orange-size right testicle on the other side of the crotch seam. His virile masculinity and hard body gristle were the envy of other men and women swooned at the sight of him. CHAPTER 2 The twenty lumberjacks that were secluded for six months at the Hardwood Lumber Camp worked hard, drank hard and fought hard and were horny as hell. Their hard physical labors increased their testosterone levels and sex drives. The men were paired off in the ten cabins surrounding the main building that housed the dining hall, washrooms, showers and staff quarters. The loggers, including Joe and Brad, obtained sexual release through self-gratification and, after "lights-out", groans and grunts echoed throughout the camp. On a particular cold night in early November, Joe and Brad, after a strenuous day at work and a hefty supper, retired to their cabin to relax near their wood stove while listening to country music on the local station. Joe fetched a fifth of whiskey from his ample supply and Brad got a six-pack of Buds from their small fridge. They laid back on their cots which were 5 feet apart and got into some serious drinking. Their bedding was so arranged that the two men faced each other at an angle. The two lumberjacks were similar in looks and build. Brad, who weighed in at 310, also sported a beard and moustache and dark fur covered his chest, arms and legs. A small lamp cast a dim light around the cabin as the two humpy loggers stretched out on their cots imbibing in the searing whiskey and beer chasers. After about an hour of this activity, the bottle was half empty and another six-pack was required. The men started to sweat from the heat generated by the wood stove and the alcohol and Joe removed his boots and flannel shirt. Brad followed suit and then they simultaneously decided to take their pants off as well. The two giants were now bare-chested and only white tight-fitting long-johns covered their lower bodies. They again reclined, spread-eagled on their cots and resumed their drinking. Long, thick cigars were lit and, as they erotically licked and sucked on the tips they began blowing heavy, hot smoke towards each other. Their senses were becoming numb from the continuous boozing and the dense smoke that was filling the hot cabin. As Vince Gill crooned in the background the two lumberjacks glared at each other and started rubbing their crotches with their meaty, hairy hands. Their huge butts were squirming around against the blankets and their muledicks began to swell and squirt pre-cum juice inside their cotton crotches. Their mouths were dripping around their stogies and emitting groans of lust. CHAPTER 3 The whiskey bottle was now empty and the two bearded, muscle-bound woodsmen were in a state of euphoric intoxication and intense sexual hunger. Their mouths were drooling as they sucked on their smoldering cigars and rubbed their oozing shafts while drinking in each other's hairy bodies. Unable to contain himself any longer Joe dropped his cigar in the ashtray and, with an angry roar, lunged himself on top of his mate. Brad quickly disposed of his stogie and wrapped his hulking arms around Joe's torso. Months of sexual frustration were suddenly unleashed as the hot, sweaty bodies of the two growling stallions united in a writhing, thrashing and thrusting struggle. They were using each other's bodies as sexual objects and release of built-up tension. Joe's cotton-covered immense butt cheeks moved in a circular fashion as he ground his manhood into Brad's pulsing apparatus. Joe and Brad had never experienced man-to-man sex before. At first, they felt that they needed an outlet for their sexual energy, but now they both realized that they wanted and actually enjoyed this new and exciting intimacy. The feel of another man's hairy muscular body and powerful manhood against their own responded to the inner cravings that their subconscious psyche had fantasized about for years. They pulled all the stops and went at each other with crazed abandon. Their writhing combined weight caused the cot to collapse beneath them and they ended up on the floor with Joe still on top. The exquisite sensation of their erect bullet-size nipples rubbing against each other caused the two giant lumberjacks to grunt and moan as Brad wrapped his massive legs around Joe's. He grabbed the other man's twisting asscheeks, bringing their hot, wet crotches even closer as if they were struggling to penetrate each other's bodies. Joe took a deep drag from his cigar and blew the hot, heavy smoke over Brad's erect nipples, grabbed his buddy's bull neck with both hands and started to swirl his thick, hot tongue around his left nipple. He then wrapped his slobbering mouth tightly around the tender membrane. He let go of Brad's neck and grabbed his huge, hairy pec with his hardened hands, exposing the vulnerable nip further and began sucking on it as would a suckling hungry baby. In response, Brad grabbed his mate's tits, twisting and pulling them mercilessly. At one point, Joe grasped Brad's hair and shoved his right nipple inside Brad's mouth. Neither man had ever known the joys of nipple play nor the acute torturous pleasure it could bring. They continued to assault, lick and suck each other's nips for a good 15 minutes, all the while snarling and growling their ecstasy, until one of Brad's tender, swollen membranes started to bleed slightly from the constant nipping. Joe lapped and sucked it until the bleeding stopped. Cockran took another drag from his stogie, clamped his mouth down onto Brad's and released the smoke down his throat. Their heated tongues entered into a sensuous duel accompanied by whimpering moans. During the prolonged smoky, wet kiss Joe reached down, pushed his hard rod through the fly of his long-johns and then through Brad's fly. The veined skin of the two throbbing pipes was now joined inside O'Connor's wet underwear. Joe clamped his heavy legs around Brad's mountainous thighs and began to fuck the other man's tool. Brad countered the pounding thrusts with his own as the two wild goliaths rubbed their bristly beards all over each other's faces and necks, drooling and grunting like two jungle beasts. Their guttural roars reverberated around the camp inciting some of the other loggers to engage in their own sex with their cabin-mates. CHAPTER 4 The two thrashing titans had been rolling around on the log cabin floor for over an hour, enjoying each other's muscular and powerful bodies with their horse cocks fucking each other inside Brad's long-johns. They had been so enraptured with each other that neither man had even considered going to the washroom in the main building. Their bladders were full to bursting from their heavy drinking and Joe, writhing on top of Brad, had a sudden attack of enuresis. Even with a raging hard-on he lost control and his fire hose started to gush all over Brad's crotch and belly. The sensation of the hot liquid spreading over him caused Brad to moan inside Joe's mouth and incited him to evacuate his own bloated bladder. The flowing golden fluid completely drenched their long johns, bellies and hairy chests. The two stallions growled, sucking each other's tongue, and clenched their bodies tightly together as the warm gushing horse piss inflamed their senses. As their bodies performed freaky contortions on the cabin floor sloshing sounds mingled with their savage shouts and groans. They were two rutting, hunching and grunting pigs, intoxicated from the booze, the sex, and the depravity of the moment. When the hot stream of the two fire hoses subsided their long-johns were totally soaked and steam rose up from their searing bodies. Their turgid pricks were on fire as they fucked each other through the hot golden juice. They took turns sucking on each other's piss-soaked tits and hairy pecs. At the height of their intense struggling Brad roared, "Oh God, Joe, you make me so fuckin' horny I can't stand it. I want you to fuck me HARD. I want to feel your big ass-splitter deep, deep inside me. FUCK ME YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!! FUCK ME NOW!" The two lumberjacks were experiencing their first man-to-man sex encounter but the idea of shoving his manmeat up his cabin-mate's asshole excited Joe. They stood up, removed their wet underwear and their sweaty, hairy and muscular bodies connected in a passionate embrace. A ravenous, tongue-probing kiss ensued and their immense rumps wiggled as they fucked each other's leaking artillery. Brad wrapped his brawny arms around Joe's thickset neck and lowered him down onto the mattress of his collapsed cot. He attached his bulky legs around Joe's waist and, wild-eyed, he shrieked, "JOE, PLEASE, FUCK ME! FUCK ME WITH YOUR BIG PRICK! I NEED IT! I WANT IT! FUCK ME, FUCK ME, I'VE GOTTA HAVE IT NOW!" Joe responded, "OK man. I never wanted anything this bad before. My bull rod is just aching to bore into you and fuck the ass off you till you yell for mercy. GET READY! HERE IT COMES!!" The burly lumberjack kneeled between his cabin-mate's meaty thighs and wrapped his mighty arms underneath and around them, digging his fingers in the hairy flesh. His pulsing maleness was well lubricated with the pre-cum oozing from it. He aimed the purple mushroom head at Brad's twitching bunghole and, without warning, rammed his 10" steel pole to the hilt at one fell swoop. Brad shrieked from the searing pain that the sudden invasion inflicted on his virgin ass and he grabbed Joe's shoulders in an attempt to push him away, but to no avail. Joe's engorged balls brushed against the tender skin surrounding Brad's anus and he remained motionless to allow his buddy time for his sphincter muscles to adapt. After about two minutes the stinging pain subsided completely and was replaced by a new sensation, one of intense pleasure. Every nerve in his body responded with blazing acuity and he began to squirm and thrust his pelvis upward, grabbing and kneading his mate's hard glutes. The two men gritted their teeth as they glared at each other with frenzied lust in their eyes. Joe reached over and relit his cigar. He inhaled a deep drag from the brown cylinder, lowered himself over his buddy's body, clamped his mouth around his left nipple and released the hot smoke onto the erect membrane. Brad became delirious from the sensation as he wrapped his legs around Joe's lower back, driving his plump rump inward, and achieving maximum penetration. Joe blew smoke into his mate's mouth as he began to fuck him in earnest. Brad grabbed the back of his lover's bull neck with his left hand, keeping their faces in close contact. Their beards and moustaches brushed against each other as they growled and moaned, salivating all over their mouths, faces and necks. Joe was ramming his rigid monster meat in and out of Brad's mancunt with ferocious determination. The sounds emitting from the two rutting bulls were akin to two wild beasts mating in the jungle. The two burly, bearded, muscular lumberjocks were overwhelmed with the intense pleasure they were giving each other. They were electrified by this newly discovered, extremely enjoyable experience and eagerly responded to every erotic and sensuous sensation. Joe's meaty asscheeks jiggled with every downward thrust of his engorged stud meat while Brad grunted and dug his fingers into his mate's butt each time he felt it penetrate his innards. After 15 minutes of this ass-splitting action their balls, now filled with hot semen, ached for release. They growled like lions as they realized that their long-fought struggle would soon garner its reward. Joe delivered one last powerful thrust and shrieked as his throbbing organ exploded deep inside his mate. As Brad felt the hot man juice spreading in his guts, his own ramrod erupted without any outside stimulation and endless gobs of white jism spurted all over his belly, chest and bearded face. Their bodies became rigid and went into orgasmic spasms as their ejaculations continued for a good 30 seconds. Once their nut sacs were finally drained Joe collapsed on top of his buddy and, moaning their pleasure, they fell asleep in each other's arms on the cabin floor. Needless to say, the two lumberjocks ravished each other's bodies every night after that first wild romp until the first snowstorm closed the camp for the season. CHAPTER 5 Back in Fawcett City, lumberjack Joe Cockran retrieved some of his money from an ATM and proceeded to the nearest watering hole, "Studs' Suds", located only a couple of blocks from the CHP Station House and, understandably, was the cops' favorite hangout. He was wearing a wool jacket over his plaid shirt and his usual light gray pants and heavy logger boots. A round wool hat covered his short, curly black hair. He parked his Jeep in the bar parking lot and went in. He stood on the threshold for a moment allowing his eyes to adjust to the dimly lit establishment. His massive frame completely blocked the doorway and all eyes riveted towards the ruggedly handsome and muscular stranger. There were about a dozen patrons in the place, mostly cops from the CHP precinct, some in uniform and others in civvies. As he ambled over to a table at the back of the bar, two female patrolpersons at one table glared at the huge organ that snaked down the man's left leg and then at his round, hard bubble butt as he swaggered by their table. They stared, bug-eyed, at the magnificent male specimen and then at each other in disbelief. If the truth be told, a couple of the male officers were also instantly attracted to Joe inasmuch as they tried to conceal their true feelings. After six months of isolation in a lumber camp, Joe was ready for a good time, which, to him, consisted of a bout of hard drinking and he went at it with a vengeance. As soon as he had installed himself against the back wall with his legs spread out he ordered his favorite libation, double whiskey straight up and draft beer as a chaser. Except for the occasional trip to the can, he just sat there drinking and watched the cops entering and leaving the bar. By midnight he had run out of money and he staggered out to his jeep. Joe was very drunk and couldn't see straight. About half a block from the bar he accidentally floored the gas pedal, lost control of the vehicle and smashed into a telephone pole. In the collision he bumped his head against the windshield and passed out. They heard the racket inside the bar and, when they saw what had caused it, one of the cops called the CHP precinct to report the matter. CHAPTER 6 At the CHP station house, Sgt. Stocky Bulmer, who had just reported for duty on the graveyard shift, answered the call. Captain Marvel was also at the precinct (his favorite hangout) on the ready for any sign of trouble. They were alone in the building as the evening shift officers had left for their respective homes and their replacements were out on their various patrolling duties. Sgt. Bulmer's build had prompted one of his fellow CHP officers to call him "Stocky" and the nickname stuck. The affectionate moniker really suited the burly sergeant. At age 42, he stood at 5'8" and weighed 275 lbs. Salt and pepper hair covered his bulky chest, forearms, legs and crew cut. A well trimmed, but thick, moustache, added to his masculine and rugged good looks. On a personal level, he and his wife resided in the same house but led separate lives. His lovemaking had become too violent and kinky and she long ago had refused his advances. He had accepted his true nature the previous August when he and Patrolman Greg Rodman had consummated their lust for each other in the radio room. Since then his erotic cravings were directed towards other men, particularly of the muscular, masculine variety. Ever since Thor had bestowed his godly nectar upon Captain Marvel the superhero had turned into a sex-crazed maniac who also hungered after the bodies of butch men, especially those who performed hard, physical labor, e.g. cops, firemen, construction workers, men with whom he was often in close contact. The god's ambrosia had also pumped up his 305 lb. muscular frame and enlarged his genitals and tits to enormous proportions. His alter ego, Billy Batson, lived in a suburb of Fawcett City with his step-parents. His costume consisted of an orange-red Lycra jump suit, white cape, golden armbands, belt and boots. A lightning bolt was imprinted on the top, between his two protruding gumdrop nipples. Unlike other superheroes, he did not wear trunks so that his monstrous genitals stretched the skin-tight material, as did his basketball asscheeks. The fabric disappeared inside the deep valley of his rump and rubbed against the lips of his tender anus with every movement. Sgt. Bulmer and Captain Marvel rushed to the accident scene. The front of the vehicle was crumpled and the driver's door was jammed. Using his superpowers the Captain ripped the door off. Possibly because of his drunken condition Joe had not sustained any serious injury, only a bump on the forehead. One of the cops observing the scene mentioned that the victim was totally smashed when he left the bar and shouldn't have been driving. Captain Marvel dragged Joe out of the jeep, picked up the gargantuan lumberjock in his hefty arms and took him back to the precinct, followed by Stocky Bulmer. The sergeant instructed the Cap to dump him in the drunk tank located in the basement of the station house so that he could sleep it off before reading him his rights and laying charges. Captain Marvel decided to remain at the precinct in case other incidents occurred requiring his assistance. CHAPTER 7 Only three men were occupying the CHP Station House, Sgt. Stocky Bulmer, Captain Marvel and lumberjack Joe Cockran. At 1:00 AM, Stocky fell asleep at his desk and Captain Marvel decided to go down to the basement and check on the prisoner. The 320 lb. woodsman was sprawled on his back on the bottom bunk bed and the sight that befell the burly 305 lb superhunk caused a tingling sensation in his loins and his juices to start flowing. A thick, black beard and moustache covered the lumberjack's face and bull neck. His jacket was on the floor and the three top buttons of his plaid shirt were open, revealing a thick mat of dark curly hair over round, protruding pectoral slabs. The two-inch black belt was undone and his heavy workboots and wool hat had been removed. Obviously, Captain Marvel had made him comfortable after laying him down on the cot. The lumberjock's enormous, beefy legs stretched the light-gray denim fabric of his pants emphasizing every bulging muscle; but the one bulge that fascinated the Cap was the one at crotch level. The outline of the monstrous salami extended down the inside of his left thigh while his orange-size right ball bulged out on the other side of the crotch seam. As the superhunk gazed at the sexy male specimen his throbbing member started to swell and stretch his skin-tight Lycra costume. As Captain Marvel gazed at the sprawled Herculean hunk, Joe suddenly grabbed his shirt and tore it open and started tweaking his bullet-size erect nipples and massaging his immense hairy pecs. The lusty lumberjock began to grind and twist his bubble butt while his male member expanded to its full thick 10 inches of prime beef. He was in a deep coma-like sleep and reliving his wild encounters with his cabin-mate. With a guttural grunt he grabbed the waist of his pants and pulled them over his trunk-like thighs and threw them across the cell. He laid back on the cot and his raging phallus distended the white cotton of his long-johns. The intense eroticism of his dream caused him to grind his teeth and snarl as saliva flowed into his beard and neck. His callused, ham-like hands grabbed his cock and balls, spreading the hot spurting pre-cum all around his crotch rendering it sopping wet. Moonlight streamed through the barred window illuminating the writhing woodsman in a dim glow. The scene caused Captain Marvel's excitement to intensify as he removed his cape, the top part of his costume, belt and boots, leaving him only with his thin, skin-hugging orange-red Lycra tights. As he glared at the sleeping giant in the throes of sexual stimulus, the wild-eyed muscular superhunk grabbed the bars of the cell door and started to frantically rub his humongous poker against one of the bars. The rattling sound roused the horny logger out of his erotic sleep as he drowsily searched for the source of the noise. As Joe Cockran's gaze fell upon the sexy hunk the two men glared at each other with wanton lust. Noticing the discarded items Joe groggily exclaimed, "What the fuck! You're Captain Marvel, the man I used to drool over when I was a kid and now you're here in the living flesh. I can't believe it. I sure as hell didn't know you were a horny son-of-a-bitch. And look at the size of you! You're huge and all muscles and that cock of yours, it's as big as mine. What the hell am I doin' here anyway?" In his deep, manly voice, the superhero replied, "You got drunk last night and crashed your jeep. You were knocked out and I carried you here. Sgt. Bulmer is going to lay charges, but right now he's asleep upstairs. I came down to look in on you and found you in the middle of a hot dream. The way you were manhandling yourself got me real fuckin' horny. You're some hot, sexy hunk and that throbbing battering ram of yours in those tight long-johns is driving me crazy. Come over here, NOW!!!" Still groggy from his drinking binge the husky lumberjock arose from his cot and staggered over to the cell bars, with his monstrous genitals bobbing and pressing against his wet crotch. The two eager giants grabbed for each other through the iron bars, rubbing their heaving chests together and mashing their erect nipples against each other. Grunting their animal lust their faces connected in a slobbering, tongue-probing kiss as they ground their spewing jackhammers together. The two jumbo rumps jiggled with each powerful thrust of their pelvises. They were like two rutting bulls engaged in a fierce cockfight. The overcharged superhero started to lap at Joe's beard and moustache and then clamped his hot mouth on the man's thick neck, biting and sucking the tender flesh as if he was trying to suck blood out of it. The acute sensation caused Cockran to shriek as he grabbed and twisted the Captain's pulsing nipples. The superhunk released his prey's neck with a loud plop and attacked Joe's left nipple with his teeth and tongue, swirling and sucking on the tender membrane. With their heads thrown back, growling and snarling, the two frenzied stallions assaulted each other's nips and pecs while still grinding and mashing their crotches together. Following a prolonged session of tit "torture" the sweaty lumberjack knelt in front of his muscle-bound idol and, grabbing the superjock's meaty glutes with his huge paws, he starting licking and sucking the Captain's heavy balls and throbbing crankshaft through the thin Lycra. Craving closer contact, the crazed logger literally tore the tights off his hero's body and gazed in wonderment at the liberated gigantic sex apparatus, which spurted copious amounts of pre-cum all over his beard and moustache. He released his own cock and balls through the fly of his long johns and he began massaging the purple mushroom head while gripping the superhero's left testicle with his hot mouth. He made every effort to shove the entire ball-sac into his large oral cavity but the balls were too big and he had to minister to them separately. The criss-crossing veins of the superhero's dong were bloated with blood and the pulsing 10" uncut dong was as rigid as a steel pole and ejecting a steady flow of pre-cum so turned-on was he by the manipulations of the husky prisoner. Joe grabbed the cockhead and slowly pulled down the protective hood revealing a large, reddish crown. As he tweaked the superhunk's aching nipples, he wrapped his hot mouth around the cockhead and stuck the tip of his tongue into the piss-slit moving it around the delicate tissue of the urethra. The acute sensation caused the electrified superjock to emit a primal growl and rattle the steel bars. The sounds echoing throughout the precinct brought Sgt. Bulmer out of his deep sleep and he decided to go down and investigate... CHAPTER 8 As he entered the dim room the stocky 5'8", 275 lb. CHP sergeant gasped at the sight he encountered. All he could see was the back of the naked Captain Marvel with his head thrown back and grabbing the steel bars. His gaze then focused on the superhero's plump butt, which was rotating, wiggling, squeezing and thrusting sensuously. This set the burly lawman's juices flowing, and his joystick, which always protruded through his tan skin-tight uniform pants, started to swell inside his jock. He moved to the side and his prisoner came into view, on his knees jacking off while giving the Captain a slurpy blowjob and squeezing his right tit. The two ardent studs were too engrossed with the task at hand to notice the presence of a third party. As he watched the erotic scene Stocky removed his uniform shirt revealing his hairy ballooning pecs and moved in on the superhunk. Bulmer clamped his meaty hands on the Captain's grinding butt and started to knead and squeeze the rubbery flesh. The superhunk let out a gasp of surprise when he saw who was feeling him up. He knew that the police sergeant was married but what he didn't know was that, although Stocky and his wife resided under the same roof, they lived completely separate lives. The Captain's initial reaction turned to undisguised lust as he gazed into the cop's burning eyes, at his dirty blond moustache and manly stubble. His glare became ravenous as it moved down to the policeman's hairy, rippling pecs with their jutting erect nipples, the tight utility belt that caused his growing manhood to protrude provocatively against his tan pants, and the knee-high motorcycle boots. His senses had reached their most intense excitement level and his face-fucking of the lumberjock took on a frantic pace. The taut satiny skin of his cockhead flared out and turned an angry purple as it thrust deeply in and out of the prisoner's throat. The stocky police sergeant removed his utility belt, grabbed the superhero's hips and started rubbing his hard beer gut against the Captain's meaty butt as it continued to thrust back and forth. Pressing his crotch against the back of the superhunk's left thigh Stocky drove his thick right hand into the deep, dark valley separating the massive glutes. When his middle finger located the tantalizing manhole he teasingly rubbed the tender lips and, upon hearing the superhero's grunt of approval, his finger penetrated and explored. The Cap's anus closed tightly on the invading digit. The cop introduced two more fingers into the twitching mancunt and the superjock screamed when he started to massage his prostate. The frantic Captain Marvel, thrusting and twitching his big butt, turned his head around and growled, "OH YEAH MAN! THAT FEELS GREAT! BUT IT'S YOUR COCK I WANT IN THERE. COME ON, YOU SEXY COP, FUCK ME, SHOVE YOUR BIG PIECE OF MEAT INTO THIS SUPERHERO'S ASS. FUCK ME, FUCK ME NOW!!!" CHP Sergeant Stocky Bulmer needed no further encouragement. He hastily unhooked his belt, lowered his zipper and pulled his cock and balls out of the confines of his jock. His tight tan uniform pants with their dark brown stripes that disappeared inside his motorcycle boots stayed glued to his meaty bubble butt. He generously lathered his rock-hard stovepipe with the free-flowing pre-cum and slowly entered that most mysterious dark valley. Being 4" shorter than Captain Marvel, the angle of penetration was perfect as the inflamed policeman's throbbing joint progressed towards the point of entry. Contact was achieved as the cop's hot flaring cockhead grazed the sensitive lips of the superhero's anus. Grabbing the Captain's beefy hips, Stocky pushed his beer-can 8½" prick inside that wondrous, sinewy, warm cavity until his ball bag connected with the Cap's low-hangers. The superjock became delirious as he felt his guts being filled with a hard, probing fire hose and his own cum gun shoved down the lumberjock's throat. Cockran realized from the superhero's primitive snarls and growls that the mighty protector was being serviced at both ends of the erotic spectrum and his main aim was to gratify the superjock's cravings to the maximum. Kneeling on the hard cell floor the beefy lumberjack concentrated all his ravenous energy on the fiery superhero's seeping wang. First, he enveloped his hot lips around the right testicle, swirling his thick tongue around the engorged orb, then gnawing and sucking on the tender tissues. He then moved his slurpy mouth over to its twin, repeating the treatment, while twisting and pulling on the Cap's swollen nipples. Opening his mouth wide he now succeeded in engulfing the entire nut-sac. As he munched on the hot goodies the superhero's balls distended his bearded cheeks causing them to swell in and out. After about 5 minutes of soppy ball handling he moved up the slick, rubbery towering shaft swirling his hot mouth along the criss-crossing engorged veins until it reached the spongy purple crown, which he greedily absorbed. On the other side of the steel bars Sgt. Bulmer's hard round butt was plowing against Captain Marvel's massive rump. With each thrust of his pulsing fuck tool into the superhero's mancunt the Captain's schlong was shoved deep into the lumberjock's throat. The three feverish hunks were laboring in perfect rhythm and totally focused on their own intense pleasure. Their guttural grunts and groans reverberated off the prison walls as did the clanging and rattling of the cell bars. With his legs spread wide on either side of Captain Marvel's and his beefy arms wrapped around his waist the torrid motorcycle lawman emitted a loud, throaty grunt with each deep upward thrust of his thick muledick into the superhero's chute. As his ass was being pounded the Captain's enormous round glutes wiggled like two giant mounds of Jello in the middle of an earthquake. The fierce and turbulent orgy continued for a good 30 minutes until the pace reached a wild and unrestrained crescendo. As he sucked on the Captain's cock the ravenous lumberjock was beating his meat against one of the steel bars. He felt the superhero's body suddenly turn rigid and as his throat emitted a primal shriek announcing his imminent discharge, Joe began to suck faster and harder on the throbbing manhood. As the first spurt of hot, milky lava entered his throat, his own steel-hard shaft started to shoot all over the Captain's left knee and lower leg. The lumberjock almost choked with the endless jets of hot super bull semen gushing down his throat and overflowing down his chin and neck. Thor's nectar always maximized the intensity of Captain Marvel' s orgasms causing him to scream and go into wild spasms. Motorcycle cop Stocky Bulmer reached the apex of his sensuous potency at about the same time and, with one final penetrating plunge and a piercing guttural roar, his horse cock erupted, splashing the Captain's guts with hot jock juice. The three grunting studs were locked in a frenzy of intense sexual release. As their engorged ball sacs emptied their scorching contents, their heavy breathing and racing heartbeats gradually returned to normal. Joe Cockran remarked, "Sergeant, about those charges..." Stocky replied, "What charges?" THE END