Thursday, October 8, 2020

Devil Dawg Donnelly's: Chapter Seven

 


"Mmmm, I could wake up like this every morning." Carl McGregor moaned into the pillow his face was almost buried in. Max Donnelly pulled his head back from between Carl's hairy ass cheeks, taking one more swipe of his long, wet, drooling tongue across the swollen puffy lips of Carl's moist anal orifice. "I could spend the rest of the day eating this delicious pussy of yours!" Max practically purred, before driving his tongue inches back into Carl's moist hole.

"Max?" Carl groaned, subconsciously lifting his hips to push back against Max's probing hole lapper "You need to stop, we have to get up." Carl said with all the enthusiasm of someone getting a root canal. Max responded by pulling his tongue out of his hole and kissing it sweetly before clamping his lips around his swollen pucker and begin sucking on it in earnest.

"MAX!?" Carl moaned louder, turning his head around as far as possible, practically pleading with him "We have to get it in gear."

Max pulled back, raising both hands and loudly smacking Carl's muscular furry ass cheeks "Never disturb a man when he's eating pussy, bitch." To emphasize his point, he respreads Carl's cheeks, dove back in vigorously and loudly began lapping and slurping at Carl's rectum.

Carl just buried his face in the pillow in an attempt to muffle the loudness of his ever-increasing moans. Finally, Max pulled back, giving Carl's hole a playful smack with his fingers, making Carl flinch and twist around, his hands shooting up protectively, trying to cover his smarting anus.

"What was that for!? Carl griped, his fingertips gently massaging his now sore hole.

Max rose from the bed, a wicked grin on his face. "Just reminding you who's hole that is!" Leaning over, Max planted his lips against Carl's, forcing his tongue into his mouth, before pulling away with a smack of his lips. "How's your cunt taste, beautiful?

Carl almost laughed at the debauched lecherous smirk on his lover's face. "Tastes like your cum, if you wanna know the truth." Carl smiled, closing his eyes, and rolling his tongue over his lips sensuously making sure Max knew he enjoyed the flavor.

Max laughed. "I thought you said we had to get going?" bringing his hand up to stroke Carl's face affectionately before palming it and shoving him backward. Max turned to head toward the bathroom, then suddenly pivoted back around, cautioning: "Stay right there boy!"

Max walked over to his nightstand, opened the top drawer, reached inside and pulled out a 2" circumference butt plug and motioned for Carl to turn around. "Almost made me forget this, you little vixen." he said, spitting on the plug and smearing it all around with his fingers. "Ass up!" he commanded, Carl groaned before complying.

"Is this really necessary Max?"

With a resounding smack against his right ass cheek, Max growled out: "It's my hole, I do what I want with it when I want!" Max snarled, shoving the plug into Carl's hole, then smacking his fleshy mounds again on both sides. "Got it!?" he stated, daring Carl to disagree.

"Wouldn't dream of having it any other way." Carl responded, rising from the bed and putting his arms around Max's neck and pulling his head down to kiss him warmly on the lips.

Max broke the kiss and turned once again to head toward the bathroom across the room: "By the way, that stays in until I remove it, is that clear?" his voice trailing as he crossed the room.

"Doesn't it always?" Carl quipped, still feeling playful while trying to straighten the bed.

"Leave that for later." Max ordered. "Get your ass in here so you can do your duty and wash me." he added, stepping into the shower, turning it on, and adjusting the temperature to his liking.

"Damn," Carl thought to himself. "I sure could get used to this every day!" hurrying to join Max as he held out the bar of soap to him expectantly.

After washing every inch of Max's hairy body and rinsing him with his massaging hands, Carl applied shaving lotion to Max's face and began reluctantly shaving him. Gently stroking the razor over his face, Carl mused: "When we retire from the Corps, the first thing that's gonna change is this."

Max smiled down at him affectionately. "You just want to feel my whiskers against your snatch." Max reached down gripping both of Carl's firm mounds in his hands and began squeezing them, drawing Carl up against his body.

"Stop that!" Carl groaned: "You could make me cut you!" he cautioned.

"I heal fast." Max sniped playfully snapping at the tip of Carl's nose with his teeth.

Carl knew he had to change Max's focus, or they were indeed going to be late for duty the way things were progressing, as evident by Max's rising phallus.

"What time is our meeting with Walker today?" He asked, hoping to refocus Max's attention.

"Hmmm, I was thinking about," Max paused before continuing: "how about ten hundred hours? Would that be enough time for you to get your shit together?"

Carl's brow furrowed thoughtfully. "I think so, not sure about Walker though."

Max gave Carl a half-grin: "Quit being so critical. I had one of my lance corporals notify him yesterday." Max actually loved the way Carl was always trying to be cautiously prepared for every contingency.

"Atticus will do fine Carl." He insisted: "Give the poor guy a break and let him prove himself."

Max thrust his head under the shower spray and rinsed his face: "Let's get dressed and fix some breakfast." He reached for a towel as Carl shut off the water, "What if the boys are up? Carl asked hesitantly.

Max shrugged his shoulders. "What about it? They're big boy's now. Let 'em figure it out." He looked Carl in the eyes, "If they have questions, they'll ask." a smirk crept across his face as he leered into Carl's green eyes. "Then I'll just stand back and watch as you squirm, hem haw, and get all embarrassed."

Carl glared at him, while Max grinned back, giving him a quick peck on the nose. "What's the matter Sgt. McGregor? Can't the big bad jar-head handle two whittle teenage boys or is he gonna yank up his skirt and run screaming away like a 5-year-old girl?"

"You're asking for it, Donnelly." Carl snarled, laughing at himself on the inside for falling right into it.
Max was right though, control the situation, don't let it control you.

Later, as Carl finished up frying a skillet full of scrambled eggs and putting some more bread in the toaster Max sat at the table checking out the morning news on his phone.

"Could you wake the boys?" Carl asked over his shoulder as he finished buttering the previous pieces of toast that had popped up.

"Nope." Was Max's simple response. "I told ya last night this is your purview now babe."

Carl tried to mentally shoot daggers from his eyes at Max's head.

Without even looking up from his phone, Max declared: "Carpe Diem Carl; seize the day."

Carl grabbed a pot from the rack above him and the wooden spoon he had just used to scramble the eggs and walked down toward the boy's rooms.

As he banged the pot loudly, Carl shouted out: "Rise and shine boys! Breakfast is nearly ready. Ya got 5 minutes before your dad starts singing as loud as he can."

Carl returned to the kitchen with a shit-eating grin on his face. Max looked over at him as he removed the last two pieces of toast from the toaster and started buttering them and adding them to the plate and setting it on the table.

"And exactly what is wrong with my singing may I ask?" The look on his face was so serious, Carl wanted to burst out laughing.

"Nothing Max, you have a singing voice that should be on the radio." Carl grinned devilishly.

"Haha!" Max smirked. "Let me guess, so you can turn it off right?"

Carl just batted his eyes at him feigning innocence. JD and a very sleepy looking Timmy came stumbling out of his room, Timmy looking a little worse for wear.

"Rough night?" Max inquired, more as an observation than an actual question before adding. "Carl did warn you two not to stay up too late."

Just as Carl sat down at the table after getting the plate of bacon from the oven, Billy appeared from the hallway running his fingers through his already messy hair. "What's with the early morning roll call?" he grumbled, now trying to rub the sleep from his eyes as he sat down.

"Good morning boys!" Carl smiled ignoring their grumpiness. "You're up because it's after oh seven hundred and it's time for breakfast!"

"Better give it up boy's. He's obnoxiously upbeat in the morning's." Max stated, taking a sip of his coffee before adding: "Better get used to it because you don't have any other choice."

Carl thought about giving some smart ass retort but decided against it. Max was right. If the household is now his purview, like he said it was, then he was running it the way he wanted and that meant everyone at the table for breakfast in the morning.

"Can we eat now?" JD grumbled: "Or do we all have to hold hands and sing a round of Kumbaya first?"

                                                                   ******

Master SGT. Max Donnelly sat at his desk staring at his computer screen reviewing the stats on the two new transfers coming in from the Kaneohe Bay Marine Corps Base in Hawaii. Cpl. Scott Taylor and Pfc. Austin Davis were already in flight and would be arriving this evening. Max knew Carl was just going to love that, since he'd be the one assigned to greet them. Both men had checked out after Carl had sent Max the breakdown of their lineage and their training specs.

Both have undergone their Heritage ceremonies, something easily tracked through Max's connection network. Elder Danal Cornelius himself vouched for their authenticity. Scott Taylor was sired in the Northern Devil Dawg region and Austin Davis was sired in the South Western Devil Dawg region, the latter just having completed his Heritage ceremony just 5 months ago and was only 18 years of age. Still a bit green, but he fit Max's requirements. Scott was 21 and had specialist training both in the Corps. and outside it. His profile was like so many others, left outside the system by the death of his sire in service to the cause or service to the Corps. and now sought placement, at first thinking he could go it alone, again like so many others on his list, but quickly finding out that that is not so easily done.

Though his good friend and one-time mentor Danal Cornelius did his best to keep track of all these outsiders, the older they got the more likely they would fall out of the system and would make lives for themselves outside their Heritage. Max and Carl compiled this list of some of the younger ones that Danal was able to keep track of and contacted them explaining the situation and what Carl, Hank, and even Danal had sensed in his son Billy; let's just say these twelve young outsiders thought it intriguing enough to hitch their wagons to the possibility so to speak.

If what they believe is true, and the signs were there, and they had all sensed it, then these young rogues could finally find a place they could legitimately belong. It was a huge leap of faith by all of them. But if everything pans out, then the potential for them finally finding acceptance would be almost assured. If nothing else Max reasoned, they had at least started coalescing into a fine unit of their own. Max could find a use for that.

Just as expected and right on time, Carl arrived for their appointment with Corporal Atticus Walker in tow. Atticus was pure Kentucky country boy; big, outgoing, and eager to make an impression. Too eager sometimes for Carl's liking. But most of all, he, like the other nine in his growing squad, had managed to maintain the code; not an easy task considering their age and having already all gone through their Heritage ceremonies and living out on their own, free from the expectations of their sires whether separated by death, dissolution, or physical/mental incapacitation.

The one thing that annoyed Carl the most was the hair. Though still regulation cut high and tight, Atticus and his squad had taken to wearing their hair faux-hawk style, pushing the sides of the hair on top to the middle and into a small peak.

Carl thought it was disrespectful to the Corps. Max however found it rather fitting and somewhat attractive. Max gestured for them to both be seated in the chairs in front of his desk. Carl laid his laptop down on the corner and pulled his chair up to the desk while Atticus just sat where indicated and let the small stack of folders he brought sit on his lap.

While Carl got ready, Max took the moment to appreciate Atticus's physical features. While not what some would call handsome, absolutely no one would deny his features weren't extremely masculine. His most prominent facial feature was his broad nose, his larger than normal nostrils that often flared when he spoke; a voice deep and raspy, a voice you knew could boom out orders when required, the crooked side bent of his protruding nose bridge, deformed by poorly set bones from some previous breakage. Atticus's eyes were also a narrower set, light golden hazel green/brown that always burned with enthusiasm and an inner drive.

Above those eyes was a heavy protruding brow, with thick, dense, medium brown hair. A lower than usual forehead that crinkled and furrowed heavily when he would smile, laugh or even while concentrating. His jaw also protruded, as does the broad chin framing a very wide mouth with lips so thick it looked like if you licked them and shoved his lips against the wall his face would stick to it.

As for the rest of him, the best word to describe the man was thick. Everywhere. Even though he was 6'2", he looked squatter than he actually was. His large thick hands and huge feet added to the illusion, as well as the fact his neck was so thick and wide and corded with muscle, it gave the impression he barely had one. It also made his head look disproportionately smaller.

As for the rest of his body, Max could only surmise the man lived in the gym weight room and when he wasn't there, stuffing his face in the mess hall trying to fuel his near bestial proportions. Even his XXL uniform fatigues looked too tight on him.

Max had never seen him shirtless, but suspected his entire body was covered in the same thick reddish-brown fur his forearms were covered in. Max concluded his VSE (visual surveillance of extremities) of the young Corporal as Carl cleared his throat and indicated he was ready to begin.

"I've received confirmation that Taylor and Davis boarded their flight as scheduled and had landed in San Diego." Carl began, still staring at his computer screen. "I can also confirm they boarded their connecting flight in San Diego and should be arriving here in Albany by or before nineteen hundred hours." He concluded, looking at Max for further instructions, instructions he was already sure would not be to his liking.

Max looked him intently in the eyes, his brow furrowing. "You know I'm gonna want you there to greet them." Max could see he was expecting it, but also that he didn't like it. Max understood; after last night and this morning's breakfast with the boys, Carl wanted to present a united front, backing up their status as being "together," that he was afraid his absence tonight might send a confusing message to the boys.

But this was important; they also needed to demonstrate a united front especially with the new recruits. The final two arrivals for this new special unit. Max turned to Atticus who was intently taking it all in, ready for Max's orders, anxious about finally completing this phase of many months worth of work. "I expect you there to greet your men Corporal." Max's tone was firm, but tinged with a casual light grin, an acknowledgment to Atticus's excitement at having the last two members of his team finally join them.

Max cleared his throat before continuing, looking at Carl: "You know, you'll..."

Carl interjected before he could finish. "I'll be there as well, Master Sergeant; at least until we get the new men settled."

Carl's face was completely deadpan, devoid of anything other than acceptance of his duty. This is one of the many things Max loved about him; his selfless devotion and sense of duty. If Atticus weren't here right now he'd... Max let the imagery of that thought trail away to the back of his mind for later and returned his attention to Cpl. Walker. "Are those the latest updates to your men's progress reports?"
Atticus stood and handed over the stack of folders he held, reaching across the desk, and handing them to his superior. "Yes Master Sgt. "He was practically beaming with enthusiasm.

Max took the folders and set them on his desk opening one at random to peruse the content. "Is there anything of special significance I need to address or know about Corporal?" Max asked, looking intently into Walker's eyes.

Atticus, with no small sense of pride in his thick raspy voice, enthused: "I'm very happy with the overall progress of the team as a whole Master Sgt., but two of them are already doing better than expected." He paused pointing out two folders that lay spread out in front of Max. "These two." He indicated pulling them from the spread. "Pfc. Barin Young and Pfc. Rex Wilson." Atticus's eyes betrayed his youthful exuberance speaking about his teammates.

Max scanned their files with interest, taking special note of their progressively incremental surges in hand to hand combat and tactical growth. Max nodded with approval, adding. "There will be two highly trained combat specialist arriving within the next week or so from Geiger. I think they will be significantly helpful getting the rest of your team up to par with these two Corporal." Max concluded: "Good work Atticus!" Carl knew Max was referring to Hank Bauers and his son Jake. Both Max and Carl could see how Atticus beamed with pride over Max's appraisal.

"Confidence is a good thing," Carl stated in a matter of fact tone, then added: "but it's the overall unit competency that matters here." Carl addressed his comments specifically to Cpl. Walker: "With that thought in mind and with Max's approval, we will be going on a little training mission Corporal."

Max looked quizzically at Carl, not knowing exactly what he had in mind, but knowing him well enough to hazard a guess. "Training mission to the compound Sgt McGregor?" Carl's faint grin confirmed he had read the situation correctly. "Get it set up immediately." Max ordered.

Carl dreaded asking because he already knew the outcome. "How immediate are we talking?"

Max tried to conceal the fact he knew Carl would not be at all pleased with his response. "No time like the present." He looked Carl right in the eyes, the intensity of his gaze leaving no doubt that there was no room for discussion; his mind was made up. "Start preparations now," Max ordered, "I expect your unit to pull out by zero nineteen hundred hours tomorrow."

Max didn't look at Carl now. He knew he wouldn't be happy with the order but knew it was coming and Max knew he understood why Max was so keen on this getting done. Billy's birthday was just a little over two weeks away now, and Max wanted this unit ready for any contingency. They both knew that if what they thought was true, not everyone might be accepting of it, and though he wasn't expecting any significant trouble, like any good leader, he knew to prepare for it and he also knew Carl understood that as well.

"You have your orders gentlemen." Max stood, indicating the meeting was over. "Dismissed!" Max noted Carl was fiddling with his laptop, purposely stalling, waiting for Atticus to leave. Max came around his desk sitting on the end closest to Carl as Cpl. Walker exited his office. "Don't be upset with me." he said softly lightly touching Carl's shoulder.

"I'm not, Max. I'm just a little disappointed at the timing is all." Carl said not looking up to meet Max's eyes, fumbling with the satchel he kept his laptop in.

"Pick us up something to eat for dinner on your way home." Max added with a small grin. "I'll wait to have dinner with you when you get home tonight."

Carl couldn't help but smile, before asking if there was anything, in particular, he'd like to eat for dinner. Max responded coyly: "I think you already know what I want to eat and it ain't something you can buy at any restaurant."

Carl blushed slightly as he turned to head out of Max's office before turning at the door to respond: "I'm saving that for dessert Max Donnelly!"

                                                                        *****

Things were panning out pretty good Billy thought to himself, at least compared to earlier. It started going downhill at first, right after his morning work out on base. He had ridden his bike to get there as usual, but after his workout and on his way home it started to downpour and Billy was completely drenched in the short time it took him to get there. It continued to rain off and on, in typical Georgia summer fashion, all afternoon.
By 3:30 pm Billy was resigned to the fact he was going to have to drive to work in the rain and get drenched again. but Timmy offered to give him a ride, as he was getting ready to go home to check on things, maybe call his parents, and get a change of clothes. If nothing else, Billy figured he could call his dad if he needed a ride home after his shift, but he was kind of hoping he and Gavin might still do something after work. Billy wondered what that something could possibly be and exactly how far did he intend to push it?
Gavin was cute and all, for a guy. But Billy wasn't sure he could go as far as his brother does with Timmy.  If he made some sort of move on Gavin, what would Gavin expect him to do? Or maybe he was just overthinking it. Maybe all Gavin was expecting was just to hang out or something, which was also cool with Billy. Gavin had a good sense of humor and Billy could see them just being buds. Nothing like him and Baxter, but still, he wouldn't have any problems just hanging out together.
Billy was kind of relieved fairly early on in their shift when Gavin asked if they were still planning on hanging out together after work. After Billy explained his ride situation, Gavin just smiled and said he could give him a ride home; he was using his mom's truck and told her he was probably going to hang out with a friend from work afterward.
"How about we get something to eat at Burger King?" Billy suggested.
Gavin thought that was a great idea, he hadn't eaten since lunch and was starving. As their shift came to a close, Billy popped into the employee restroom and quickly changed out of his overalls and slipped into the sweats he'd brought with him then headed out back to meet up with Gavin. Billy was kind of surprised how easy it was to talk to Gavin noting Gavin shared a similar taste in music and even liked a few of the same video games. As they pulled into the local BK, Gavin asked Billy if he just wanted to go through the drive-thru or if he wanted to go inside to eat.
It was a little after 8pm and there didn't appear to be that many people there at the time so Billy suggested they go inside. "It's a lot cooler in there than it is out here." Billy happily noted.
Gavin gave Billy a quirky little smile and innocently responded: "Well, we can't have you getting too hot, now can we?" No sooner had Gavin spoken the words, his face flushed realizing how what he just said might be interpreted.
Billy burst into a hearty laugh, increasing Gavin's embarrassment. "I'm sure if I get too hot, you'll be able to think of a way to cool me down." Billy quipped before giving Gavin a lecherous wink and a wicked smile full of implied intent.
"Good gawd, what have I unleashed!?" Gavin moaned mockingly, all the while his face flushing even redder than before. Gavin parked fairly close to the building, off to one side, not far from the side entrance.
As they got out of the vehicle and stepped onto the sidewalk leading to the entrance, Billy bowed slightly and with an over-exaggerated sweeping gesture indicated that Gavin should lead the way. "Perhaps you should go first so you're not tempted by my hotness." Billy could barely contain the mirth he was getting from Gavin's embarrassment.
Gavin just shook his head. But after passing Billy and reaching for the door and pulling it open, he stood there waiting for Billy to enter returning Billy's mocking, bowing gesture and with a sweeping arm flourish ushering Billy inside, he bemused: "I'm pretty sure you just wanted me to go first because you were afraid you wouldn't be able to figure out how a door works!"

                                                                        *****

After appropriating an M38 jeep from base transport and picking up Atticus from his unit's assigned barracks, Carl transported them to the Southwest Georgia Regional airport outside Albany to pick up Taylor and Davis who were arriving from their commercial connecting flight from Atlanta. Fortunately, and much to Carl's relief, the flight was on time and he and Atticus awaited their departure from their aircraft.
As the two young Marines entered through the small terminal gate carrying their rucksacks and their duffel bags, Carl found himself visually assessing them. Cpl. Scott Taylor was the taller of the two. Carl estimated him at about 6'1" with dark, almost pitch-black hair, fair complexion, with broad-shoulders and a tapered waist. He isn't overly muscular, rather lean; but from his exposed nearly hairless arms, Carl noted how defined his muscles were. This is obviously a man who trained his body for both strength and speed, not just bulk. Despite the apparent lack of body hair, Taylor actually reminded him of a very young Max, both in the way he carried himself and the ever scanning and assessing glare of his eyes.
Pfc. Austin Davis was his mirror opposite; sandy-haired, shorter, maybe 5'9", light golden hair softly covered his thick, muscled, exposed forearms. Heavier set than his companion, though not what Carl would ever denote as obese or fat. His sparkling blue/green eyes unable to conceal what Carl was sure would be a bubbly, cheerful personality, as did his boyishly cherubic face. Austin defined what Carl had always pictured as the stereotypical baby blue Marine. Both Carl and Atticus stood motionless in typical parade rest, hands behind back, shoulders straight and chest out stances. As the two Marines spotted them and approached with what Carl noted as a small degree of trepidation.
"Cpl. Scott Taylor and Austin Davis reporting for duty Sir!" Taylor announced, both dropping their gear to stand stiff armed in the expected stationary drill stance, eyes forward and awaiting instruction.
"Drop that "sir" shit!" Carl sneered. "I'm not an officer corporal, I work for a living!" Carl's admonition caused both men to smile and relax their stiff stances. They both extended their hands in less formal salutations as both Carl and Atticus shook their hands announcing who they were in a less formal greeting. After gathering their gear and loading them up in the jeep, Carl headed back to base and listened intently as Atticus unabashedly preened about his unit and getting to know them on a more personal level.
As they recounted their life histories leading up till now, Carl couldn't help but shake his head more than once at their all too familiar stories. How both Taylor's father and mother had been killed in a car accident when he was 9 and he was sent to Michigan to live with his widowed grandfather who had made sure he underwent his Heritage ceremony but died soon after. A ceremony that would have never taken place if it hadn't been for his grandfather's absolute persistence after being repeatedly rejected by the regional Devil Dawg council leader. It wasn't until he sought the help of the district's Green Father, Elder Hadrian Mumsford, who interceded on his behalf and performed the ceremony with his grandfather stepping in to take his son and Taylors sire's roll.
As for Austin, he didn't have a clue growing up who his father was. His mother just said he was some Marine she met at a private party one night and never saw again. Austin said he would have never even known about his Heritage or the ceremony if it hadn't been for the father of a friend and football teammate he had just met when his mom transferred to her new job in Corsicana, Texas as a sales rep. He pulled him aside one night and grilled him about who his father was.
Austin told him all that he knew and his friend's dad made it a point to talk to his mom to help fill in the blanks. Austin was 15 at the time and after that conversation, he took a keen interest in Austin's life. He ended up laying down the law, so to speak, about the code and the importance of him and his son having each other's back until they were 18 and came into their Heritage, which they did. On Austin's 18th birthday, his friend's father stepped in and assumed the role of surrogate sire and saw him through his ceremony.
Hearing their life experiences forced Carl's thoughts toward Baxter and how if not for what they believed about Billy, would share a similar fate as all these young men. More and more Carl shared Max's belief that the ancient Codex could go fuck itself. These young men deserved better.
After returning to the base and doing a brief introduction of the two new recruits with the other nine members of their unit, Carl gave them their orders for the next morning and left them in Atticus's care. Carl was actually impressed with the way Atticus had gotten the two young Marines to open up and discuss the most intimate details of their lives and how trusting and at ease his men felt around him.
Of course, this only made Carl reluctantly smile inwardly, acknowledging how right Max had been. This once again proved that Max was seldom wrong about people and that there was more than met the eye as far as Cpl. Atticus Walker was concerned. Carl returned the jeep to base transport and jumped in his own truck. Pulling out his phone, punching on Max's icon and waiting for him to answer, wanting to know if there was anything specific Max wanted for dinner all the while silently chanting: "Please don't say pizza." over and over again.

                                                                         *****

Max Donnelly's stomach growled again, refusing to let him forget how hungry his belly was. Max had just taken a cold shower a few minutes ago hoping to quell another hunger as well; at least until Carl made it home. Seeing his youngest son lay on the couch with his legs sprawled over the far end and his head resting peacefully as he slept in the angelic lap of Timmy Anderson, who idly stroked his son's hair from his perch in the center of the couch, wasn't helping with the latter part of his hunger. Noting the boys were feigning interest in some movie on Netflix, Max decided to pop a bag of popcorn and join them, hoping to at least assuage his grumbling belly if not his churning balls.
As the popcorn popped, Max dove into the fridge and grabbed a can of beer, flipped the tab, and took a deep chug of the refreshing, bubbly beverage. Max contemplated heading back to his room and putting on a pair of shorts instead of walking around with a damp towel wrapped around his waist. But the sudden ding of the microwave altered that plan; Max just said "fuck it", grabbed the bag of popcorn, his beer, and joined the duo on the couch.
Max parked himself a couple of feet from Timmy and sat his beer on the end table next to him. Then he took a handful of popcorn and stuffed it into his mouth and extended the bag to Timmy, urging him to have some. Feeling a bit peckish himself, Timmy hesitantly reached out and grabbed a few buttery kernels and stuffed them in his mouth. Looking right at Max and playfully sucked the salty butter from his fingertips. Max just laughed at him and turned kind of side-saddle on the couch and propped the bag of popcorn between his hairy muscular legs, before reaching in and hauling another handful out and began munching on it while pretending to pay attention to the movie on TV.
Timmy frowned slightly, before reaching over and grabbing some more of the popcorn and casually consumed it, kernel by kernel, as he returned his focus to the movie he and JD had been watching. Quenching the initial pangs of his ravenous stomach only brought the gnawing hunger centered in his gonads more to the forefront.
Max openly ogled Timmy's nearly naked body, being clad only in a pair of skimpy tight shorts. Max admired the bugling ripples of his nearly hairless velveteen skin over his well-toned muscles, the soft milky, smoothness of his skin practically begged for caressing.
He watched as Timmy's left hand haphazardly reached over and fumbled to find the opening to the popcorn bag, practically groping Max's leg in the process, before plucking out a few more kernels of corn and moving his hand slowly to his mouth. He then sensuously poked them one by one between his full, ripe lips and proceeded to suck his fingertips each time, not realizing the effect it was having on Max's libido.
Max just scooted his hips forward more and brought the bag closer to his now exposed crotch. He bemusedly watched as his cock began to slightly engorge with blood and expand upward and flop thickly across his right thigh. He could barely contain a snicker as Timmy's hand once again fumbled over in the direction of the bag to grope his naked upper thigh once again, his fingertips just missing his expanding dong by fractions of an inch before finding the bag opening and retrieving more kernels again absentmindedly pushing each piece into his mouth and sucking his fingertips.
As Max watched his cock expand to its fullest, he noticed a drop of precum bubble out his piss slit in a large pea-sized beaded droplet. Max reached into the popcorn bag and plucked a kernel out and stuffed it into the viscous fluid instantly adhering it to the tip of his enormous helmet-shaped bulbous glans as Max moved the popcorn bag out of the way, fully exposing his genitals.
Max's eyes watched wickedly as Timmy's hand reached over once again and fondled around for the popcorn bag grasping at empty air until Max eased his crotch forward even more until Timmy's fingertips came into full contact with his massive wanger. Max laughed out loud as Timmy wrenched his hand back, a look of shock and surprise consuming his facial expressions.
Max ran his left hand down his hairy chest and abdomen, his fingertips pushing through his thick dark pubes until connecting with the base of his cock and pushing it upward, forcing it to stand straight up. Max lasciviously looked into Timmy's wide bulging eyes and sneered: "Last piece, you want it?" Max watched as Timmy visibly gulped before adding: "Come and get it!"
Timmy sat there motionlessly, frozen, staring at the biggest cock he had ever seen, and that included the numerous porn vids he had watched. Up till now, Timmy had thought Billy had a really big dick. But this one put it to shame. Max's cock was huge, not only longer than Billy's by a good bit, but a lot thicker as well. Timmy felt hypnotized by it and it pulled at him like a moth to flame. His hand seemed to reach out for it of its own accord, forcing Timmy to lean sideways to wrap his fingers around its humongous girth.
It didn't surprise him at all, that his fingertips couldn't meet no matter how hard he squeezed, trying to close the gap between his thumb and middle finger; Timmy knew it had to be thicker than his wrist and almost as long as his forearm, at least twelve inches. The huge helmet-shaped head was a bluish lavender and shiny. So shiny he almost expected to see his own distorted reflection in it. He noted it was also thicker than his shaft, being close in size to a tennis ball.
Max's balls were also a marvel. His hairy thick-skinned sack looked like it had been stuffed by a baseball, pulled up tight to his groin. Timmy unconsciously and repeatedly licked his lips in pure lustfull hunger taking in Max's prodigious endowments.
Max decided to take matters into his own hands, reached down, and plucked the piece of popcorn from the tip of his cock and plopped it into his mouth, taunting: "Your loss." He then moaned and rubbed his belly. "Delicious!"
Timmy audibly whimpered and sought to move his mouth closer to his throbbing cock-head, and with just mere inches from his goal, Max's phone rang. He immediately stood up, ripping Timmy's hand away from his cock as he headed to the kitchen to retrieve his phone and answering.

                                                                        *****

Billy shook the last of the piss from the head of his dick before stuffing it back into his jockstrap and sweatpants. As he flushed the urinal, washed his hands, and turned to head out the door of the restroom, he found himself smiling and not remembering when the last time he actually felt like doing that. Gavin was a fun guy to hang with. He was funny, and at times witty, and Billy was really enjoying hanging out this evening. He'd half-forgotten about seeing if he could get a blowjob or something off him, not that he would now say no to that, but more like discovering he was actually enjoying having someone to just relax with and shoot the shit.
As Billy rounded the corner from the bathroom area, he noted that several people had gathered around his and Gavin's table. As he drew closer, he knew immediately who they were. Blake Riley and that nasty-ass bitch Rebbecca Wheeler, two of Blake's football buddies, and to Billy's surprise Melissa Talbot. He had always gotten the impression she was as smart and nice as she was beautiful.
Billy had always admired her from a distance at school, thinking she was one of the hottest girls he knew of, looking almost like a clone of Selena Gomez right down to the long dark sultry hair and, of course, having all the curves in all the right places. So, what was she doing hanging with that redneck dipshit Blake? And why were they all crowded around his and Gavin's table?
Melissa spotted Billy first, and just shrugged her shoulders with her hands held up denoting helplessness and rolled her eyes from Billy's to Blake. It was at that moment Billy could see Gavin, with his face turned sideways away from Blake whose angry face was mere inches from Gavin's left ear. Billy couldn't quite make out what he was saying, but his tone was definitely threatening. Blake's two large, jock buddies stayed close by, arms folded over their chest just as threateningly, while Rebbecca Wheeler just sneered nastily at Gavin on the other side of him.
Gavin looked pale as a ghost as Billy sauntered up behind Mike Humphrey and Dougie "Dickhead" Dickson, that's what his brother called him having had a few run in's with him, and threw his arms over their shoulders loudly stating: "Howdy boy's. Is there a problem here!?"
Dougie and Mike instantly pulled aside, shrugging off Billy's unwelcome bro hug. Blake turned angrily to Billy. "Fuck off Donnelly, this ain't none of your business."
Billy shoved his way past Dickhead and Mike and yanked Rebbecca Wheeler out of his seat by her arm, eliciting a harpy-like screech from her as he shoved her aside like a rag doll. "Next time, stay out of my seat, bitch." Billy sniped.
Blake stood erect, puffing his rather sizeable chest out, hands clenching. "I'm warning you, Donnelly. Stay the fuck out of this!" he practically spat the words in Billy's face. Billy just leaned back and casually stretched and relaxed into his seat while offering a visibly more relieved Gavin a big smile. Before looking right into Blake's eyes, he responded with a coldness that made Gavin shiver. "Or what, pussy boy, you'll wet your panties?"
Billy laughed mockingly as Blake's buddies grabbed Blake, holding him back from coming across the table at Billy, who just sat there coolly, ignoring his ranting profanities. It was at that moment Melissa gently took hold of Blake's arm, trying to calm him down, saying they should just leave before they all got into trouble.
It was Rebbecca Wheeler who responded for Blake. "Shut the fuck up, bitch!" she hissed venomously. "This little faggot deserves everything it gets after what its boyfriend Arliss Gundarsun did to Blake a couple of years ago! "Rebbecca shook her bony finger angrily under Melissa's nose, who surprisingly snatched it, shoving her backward and warning her. "You ever stick your finger in my face again, you little tramp, and I'll shove it up your ass. Oh, by the way, his name is Gavin, not "faggot" or "it", you dumb, bigoted cunt!" The look on her now angry face left Billy and Gavin both with no doubt she'd do exactly what she said. Billy couldn't help but smile, nor could he help the fact she just made his dick chub a bit.
Blake whirled in Melissa's direction and grabbed her roughly by the arm before shoving her backward spitting: "You just earned yourself a long walk home, you fucking frigid dyke."
"Like I'd ever get in a car with any of you ever again, you pencil-dicked momma's boy." Melissa's tone was cool, calm, collected, and completely said without fear, knowing the hours of training her Marine Corps father taught her gave her all the confidence she would ever need to handle someone like Blake Riley. Billy was so impressed with Melissa he almost let her handle Blake herself as he moved toward her and raised his fist as if to strike her. But Billy's instincts and lightning-fast reflexes caught Blake by the wrist, and before Blake knew what happened to him, Billy slammed him face-first into the table, his arm twisted behind his back, holding him painfully helpless.
Billy barely had time to turn his head around, catching Rebbecca Wheeler, now armed with a serving tray, throwing the arm holding the tray back over her right shoulder. But before she could swing it at Billy's head, Billy and Gavin watched in total surprise as Melissa snatched her by the hair on the back of her head and with one big yank tossed Rebbecca backward onto her ass on the floor where Melissa, now standing over her, thrust her foot against her throat and held her securely to the floor, Rebbecca helplessly clutching at Melissa's foot with both hands, trying desperately to extricate herself to no avail.
Like the coward he is, Blake cried out to his buddies for help. Billy turned, still holding Blake's arm, but expecting he'd now be facing three opponents instead of one. But as he looked over at Mike and Dickhead, he noticed neither made a move in his direction. It was then that Billy noticed a familiar face smiling back at him from between the two jocks.
Carl McGregor had witnessed the ongoing events as they played out from mere moments ago, knowing one-on-one, Billy would have no problem defending himself. Carl got out of his truck and hurried in, not liking the odds of all three boys jumping Billy.
He now stood grinning back at him smiling, Mike Humphrey's left arm and Dougie Dickson's right arms securely held tightly behind their backs, fist firmly planted between their shoulder blades and held tightly against their spines.
Carl whispered into their ears: "If I let you boys go, are you gonna behave like gentlemen and collect your friends and depart the premises?" Carl twisted their arms even tighter, causing considerable discomfort, before stating matter of factly: "Or am I going to have to rip these off and shove them up your collective asses so far it will take a team of proctologists a week to remove them?" He let go of their arms and shoved them forward, assuming a defiant stance, daring them to make any kind of move he didn't approve of.
With a nod from Carl, both Billy and Melissa released their captives, allowing them to stand up. Instantly, an enraged Blake tried to take a swing at Billy's head with his closed fist, arcing towards him when he was suddenly struck against the back of his head with a dinner tray, hard!
Blake stumbled forward, his knees almost giving out, as his two buddies caught him and practically carried him away. A glowering Rebbecca Wheeler practically snarling at them as she joined them. Gavin still stood there, the tray in his shaking hand, not quite sure he had done what he had indeed just actually done.
"That was awesome bro!" Billy's face beamed as he slapped Gavin on the back congratulating him.
"So..." Melissa quipped from behind them, both Billy and Gavin turning simultaneously, taking note of her standing coyly with one hand on her hip. "Is it always this much fun hanging with you two?"

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