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Subject: Chuck McGraw Part 22 The tale of Chuck McGraw, a big-dicked bad ass mother fucker. Father. Soldier. Bodybuilder. Pervert. Please support Nifty financially. Send feedback to hoo (Seriously, if my stories get you hard let me know.) Chapter 22 Camp Liberty, Iraq. 2008 “Three days and a wake-up, Top!” exclaimed PFC Walters from the driver’s seat. “Enjoy the break while you can, Walters. When we get home we’ve got a shit-ton of shit to do before you can really relax.” 1SG McGraw said, spitting onto the ground from where he sat in the HUMVEE’s TC seat. “Way to bring down the mood, First Sergeant” SSG Hobbs chided, over the headset from where he was sitting in the gunner’s turret. “Just stating facts, men. Don’t worry, you’ll have enough down time to nut in your wives and girlfriends when we get back. But no one gets leave until shit is squared away.” “I can’t wait to fuck my baby-mama. Been too damn long,” said SGT Batagor from the back seat. The dark-skinned man was pulling at the crotch of his pants. “If she aint knocked up from Jody by now.” Joked SPC Bruner, sitting beside him. Everyone laughed. “How about you Top? Looking forward to some welcome home pussy?” “Well, about that,” said McGraw, “my oldest boy just sent me some video he took of my latest wife taking it up the ass from some dude.” “Fuck that sucks man.” “Naw, fuck her. Already started the paperwork. She’ll get a surprise when I get back. Besides, I almost can’t fault her the amount of pussy I’ve gotten on this deployment.” “Hell yeah, remember that redheaded slut?” The men were sitting in a queue of trucks and HUMVEEs that were entering Camp Liberty, outside of Baghdad, Iraq. They’d driven down some of the older equipment that would be handed over to the Iraqi Defense Forces (IDF) enroute to their demobilization. Liberty was a far sight better than any other base the unit had been on the past year. There were actual fucking American restaurants and shit. The men in Chuck’s company were used to rough and dirty accommodations. In comparison Liberty shined. Everyone lived in building or one of hundreds of CHUs that stood dress-right-dress in orderly rows. 1SG McGraw and his men would be bunked at one of the warehouses set aside for temp personnel, open bays with bunk beds and lockers, while they waited for their flight home to CONUS. Once the vehicles were signed over and the other admin bullshit dept with, the men were given leave to explore the base. There was nothing left for them to do but wait. Most headed for the fast-food joints or the hot showers. McGraw was more interested in the latter. Stripped down to his shower shoes, silkies, and sunglasses, with his kit and towel in one fist and his rifle in the other he made a beeline for the shower trailer near their bunks. It had been weeks since McGraw had enjoyed a long, uninterrupted hot shower. şişli travesti It felt amazing and he took his time, letting the steaming water cascade over every inch of his impressive muscular body. At 240 lbs of solid muscle, covered in tattoos and with a dark body hair on his chest, arms and legs, he was a walking, talking GI Joe. His high and tight was Marine-recon style, shaved every day on his white walls when he shaved his face. His hair on his head and his regulation mustache were turning to salt and pepper. His jaw line sharp as carved stone, with a square chin and a deep cleft. His 21-inch arms were covered in full sleeve tattoos. His stomach was flat, and waist tight. You could practically follow a vein from his lower abs as it ran from the base of his cock and crawled down the shaft to his uncut head of his massive cock, hanging 8 inches soft. His legs were tree trunks, likewise inked and hairy, with massive sweeping quads that stretched his uniform pants. Over the last year whenever they’d been at a base with a gym, he’d used it religiously. When they didn’t, he and his guys made do with impromptu equipment. They even carried a barbell, weights, and some other gym equipment in their truck that was easy to transport. Through it all he’d managed to keep his hard-won muscle. “Holy fuck! Of all the big-dicked mother fuckers to run into in Baghdad.” Chuck opened his eyes and looked up to see his good buddy Jason Sins. McGraw and Sins had been on the Drill Sergeant trail together but hadn’t seen each other since. Sins was dark-haired, 5’10” still sporting a lean, wiry frame built for running and swimming, but bulked up with some well-defined muscles. He was a couple of years younger than McGraw, and built of all angles, with prominent cheek bones, and a sharp jawline, and eight-pack abs. Like McGraw, his body was a roadmap of tattoos, marking both his Chicago upbringing and his time in service. Sins was stripped down to his ACU trousers and boots and obviously had just come into shower. It was the middle of the day, and the two men were alone in the trailer. “Fuckin’ Sins! How the fuck are ya!” Chuck bellowed, stepping out of the shower to shake his fellow Soldier’s hand in that straight half-hug sort of way. Sins returned the hug, saying, “Hey now, watch it with that fuckstick, bro! You’ll put an eye out!” McGraw turned the water off and toweled dry while the two men caught up. Sins was a SFC. He’d be a MSG by now but when he was a SSG he’d gotten demoted for fucking around with the wrong married women, namely the base commander’s wife. It was also why he’d gotten divorced. He’d been in the AO for a couple of weeks, some shit deployment detail that had him escorting dignitaries and such but no actual combat for him, a grunt’s worst case senecio. The plus side was the plethora of pussy on a base with females and beylikdüzü travesti civilians, all far from their significant others. “It’s like a fucking orgy here day and night, bro. Pretty sure the doc handles more STDs than anything else around here.” McGraw said he’d be sure to avoid anyone Sins advised him to, so he didn’t catch something, but he was aching for some relief. Sins knew McGraw liked pussy as much as he did, but that he favored queers for sucking and worshiping his giant dick. He gave him directions to the latrine trailer over by the Green Beans coffee shop that had a notorious glory hole. “The place is busy all fucking day, man. Gotten sucked off there tons of times. Easy blow and go.” McGraw thanked him and they made plans to grab chow together later that night. He also didn’t waste any time getting his shit squared away and heading for the trailer that Sins had pointed him to. He was dressed in his silkies, suede combat boots, and a black tank-top, with his Oakleys, dog tags, wedding ring, watch, and carrying his M-4. He entered through the door in the center of the long side of what was basically a shipping container. On the wall in front of him was a row of sinks, while on the wall with the door were urinals on the left and shitter stalls on the right. Sins had told him that it was the last two stalls that had the glory hole, but at the moment both doors were locked, the stalls occupied. That was fine because he needed to piss anyway. He sidled up to the first urinal and pulled his cock from his shorts., moaning softly as he let loose. His moan was echoed by the closed bathroom stall, and as he stained his ears, he could hear the unmistakable sounds of slurping as someone was getting their cock sucked. His cock was already getting hard as he waited his turn. He didn’t have to wait long. A few muffled grunts, followed by the sound of someone doing up their belt and trousers, and the stall door opened to reveal a bear of a man, including a thick curly beard, wearing the uniform of Canadian forces. The man saw Chuck but quickly looked away as he washed his hands, embarrassed. Chuck was never embarrassed. He turned and walked toward the other soldier, his fat hog hard and swaying with each step, the waistband of his shorts hooked beneath his low-hanging hair nutsack. “I hear this is the place to go to get your rocks off,” he said to the Canadian loudly, and jovially, slapping the man on the shoulder. “Hope he was good. But I guess I’m about to find out.” The other man was too stunned to say anything. His face flushed with embarrassment as he bolted from the trailer, the sound of 1SG McGraw’s laughter following him out the door. McGraw went into the stall, pushing the door shut but not locking it. Inside the yellow walls were covered in messages in sharpie and pen, mostly email address, locations, istanbul travesti bases, or times the author might be in the latrine. But on one side of the stall was a large professionally cut hole that was large enough for the man on the other side to rest his chin on the edge, have his mouth wide open and tongue out, with the bridge of his nose at the top edge of the hole. He sat there waiting, just a hole to be used. Chuck was happy to oblige. He aimed his hard ten inches toward the open maw, and rested his cock head on the man’s tongue. The stranger’s lips closed around the fat head, and Chuck thrust hard, laughing. The man pulled back, coughing and gagging. “Buckle up, buttercup!” Chuck said. “And don’t fuck around. I need to get this nut off and this ain’t aperture hour.” He spoke loudly, with authority, not giving a shit if anyone else could hear him. The man, whoever he was, took the instruction to heart and took another stab at sucking Chuck’s married dick. He was good at his job, and Chuck gripped the top of the stall wall and enjoyed the services of an expert cocksucker. The stranger worked his tongue under McGraw’s funky foreskin, and used his hands to stroke the shaft. Once he was prepared, he was even pretty good at deepthroating quite a bit of the 1SG’s giant dick. He even tugged on Chuck’s balls the same way his second wife like to. Men came and went to the latrine, some for sex, others probably just to piss. One or two stuck around waiting their turn or watching Chuck through the cracked open stall door as he thrust, his hair glutes clenching. When McGraw orgasmed and he wasn’t quiet. He moaned and yelled with each explosion and the cocksucker on the other side of the wall swallowed it all down. “Dammit man, I fucking needed that today! Fuck yeah.” Chuck said. He did a half-assed job of stuffing his still stiff prick into his shorts, which were immediately damp from his leaking cockhead. He swung open the door to see an Air Force LT waiting by the sink where he’d been spying. “He’s all yours bud. He’s a great cocksucker too. Might have to come back for more.” Suddenly the other stall door swung open. The cocksucker on the other side turned out to be a Marine Gunny, shaved head, wearing the greet PT uniform. He was trim, in shape, the way the Marines like them. He glanced nervously at the LT, and back to McGraw. He quickly worked up his courage and said “Fucking A man! That cock is fuckin’ amazing. I’m gonna need some more of that!” Chuck tilted his head to the side, slowly checking out the Marine’s ass. “Well, Marine. I think I can oblige that. How bout we meet up in a couple of hours and I’ll fuck the shit out you. Sound good?” The Marine agreed that it sounded very good. He and the First Sergeant made plans to meet up that evening. McGraw even surprised him by brining Sins along to the Marine’s CHU. The two Soldiers took turns on either end of the slut Marine, pumping a couple of loads in him that night, and for the next few days he and Sins fucked both men and women on Camp Liberty until it was time for McGraw to head back into the World. Feedback welcome at hoo

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