Major Pump Part 6

Hey studs and sluts, 

Here you go... as promised, the next part of Major Pump and the STUDS. 

Looking good for another 3 submissions next month, early, middle and end of month. 

Let me know what you think. 

XXX

‘GGGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!’

The tearing sound ripped through the gymnasium, and Chezza’s trousers flew apart in all directions. One leg completely split open and splayed apart, the rip tearing all the way down Chezza’s thigh and gaping all the way down to his knee, revealing thickly bunched quads.

Another rend was opened up in the groin that busted all the seams from the bottom of the thigh to the buttocks in the camo fatigues. Chezza’s absolutely monstrous goliath dong had been tenting the fly-portion of the trousers outwards, and it was this that had burst through first – RRRRRRRIIIPPPPPPP - the monstrous head emerging, the actual zip of the fly splitting apart with the pressure. Shreds of fabric went everywhere. One in particular shot forwards and was projected into Pump’s face, landing on her nose.

Chezza’s behemoth meat monolith popped out like a rocket and shot upwards like a medieval trebuchet, swinging up and lodging with a thick, heavy, wet, hard TTTHHHWWWAKKKKKKK right between Major Pump’s absolutely immense set of perfectly round, bulging, spheroid melons, the blunt head of the immense fucktool lodging between her huge cleavage, the size and heft of the bulging, globular, honey-tanned and gleaming fuckbags completely concealing the domed tip of the celebrated porn-stud’s instrument from view.

The vast, veiny, brawny flesh mast could however be seen, the incredibly long, smooth, muscular shaft like a bridge that connected Chezza’s groin to Major Pump’s immense, jutting, taut knockers.

‘NNNNGHGHGHGH fukkkkk…’

Chezza didn’t move. The sweat was standing out on his brow and his teeth were still clamped.

He was still, absurdly saluting.

‘You’re not in the army yet, Chesney,’ Pump said, gorgeous bimbo face unreadable.

She fished the errant piece of trouser fabric from her nose and cast it to the floor.

‘So let’s keep the salutes to a minimum for the moment. To salute once is excessive. Twice is somewhat repetitious.’

She was referring to his groinal salute. The thing was lodged between her gorgeous bulging, inflated, vast cans.

Chezza kept his salute going as his destroyed trousers slowly disintegrated totally and the ruptured camos collected in a pool of fabric around his ankles extremely slowly.

Pump didn’t move either. She could feel the fucking monstrous flesh truncheon pulsing and throbbing between her gargantuan, firm melons. The heat of the thing made her juicing pussy pulse. But she was not about to give any of these studs any kind of satisfaction until they had well and truly earned it. She was going to break them down one at a time. If they couldn’t take a little bit of teasing, they were not ready for the good stuff.

‘GGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!’

The corded muscles on Chezza’s frame were bulging out everywhere, incredibly bulging brawn signalling that he was ready to pop.

Lex had raised an eyebrow at the trouser destruction. That was quite something. Chesney was known to all of the studs in the line, having a very visible public profile and quite the porno career. He had even seen a fair bit of his work. There was a little too much phallus to phallus contact for Lex’s liking, and Chesney was known for over-deliberate friendly fire popshots that were just as likely to glaze his fellow cocksmiths’ schlongs in heavy ropes of goo as they were the pumped-up porn bimbos that he put through their paces, but he has just as much pedigree and experience as the rest of them.

As far as Lex knew, Chessa hadn’t ever busted through his trousers on camera, but perhaps that was down to Major Pump. He looked at Pump. The fuckdoll’s lips were parted, and she was sending a gaze into Chezza’s eyes that could have melted through steel.

‘FUCKKKKKKKK!!!!! You WHOOOOOOREEEEEE!!!!’

He had tried to keep it in. But it was just too much. Chezza edged ever so slightly forwards as he groaned and nudged the rounded dome of his cock-crown through the tanned, tattooed fuckdoll’s glorious tits. The reddened, smooth crown emerged from between her hulking, smooth cans, popping upwards. An absolutely massive bolt of pre-ejaculate bubbled out of his pisshole and then shot upwards, catching air in a volcanically projected, hot, gluey beam of gluey fluid that leapt from the winking cumtip at the apex of his blunt bell end and splattered directly into Pump’s face.

‘Fuck!’ Viktor said.

Even McGraw was a little surprised at that one.

Major Pump made no move whatsoever. The rich, potent, gluey discharge dripped from her nose.

‘Not bad…’ Pump said. She scooped it off her face with her index finger and swiped it in her mouth. ‘Not many guys can do that kind of… pumping before you’ve been properly trained. Perhaps you’re in with a shout, Chezza…’

‘NNNNGHGHGHGHHH!!!’

Pump made her way to the next STUD candidate, popping Chezza’s dick from her cleavage with a squelch. The porn stud gasped and doubled over, but then managed to gather himself and get back to a semblance of the ‘attention’ stance, monster turgid length pointing up at the ceiling, clearly achingly tumescent.

‘I’m going to tear you up with this!!!’ McGraw called from down the line.

‘Fucken whore…’ someone else said.

Pump stopped in front of the next towering stud, seven feet of solid black muscle.

‘Jawbreaker Bones,’ Pump said.

Jawbreaker snorted. It was gruff and animalistic, almost exactly the sound of a bull about to charge on a toreador.

Pump, even on her stacked platform stripper heels, was looking upwards at the monstrously muscled stud. The guy’s traps and delts gave him the silhouette of an immense cobra.

‘I understand you’re not much for talking,’ Pump said, sliding from hip to hip in an extremely slow, but incredibly hypnotic shifting of her voluptuous goods, the thick, defined, bulging quads, the ripped, sculptured abs, the spectacular tautness of her honed waist astonishing in contrast to her mammoth, basketball sized tits and immense, projecting, globular ass sticking out behind her.

Bones snorted again.

‘Let me tell you what I know…’ Pump said, ‘since you’re so reticent. Forty-five dislocated jaws to your name so far, couple of solid breaksin there too, poor girls… a hotline to the emergency services and in fact you’re obliged to keep them informed of your whereabouts just in case whatever poor little slut you force that monster into needs urgent medical care… you’re keeping three specialists physios in oral rehabilitation in round-the-clock work cleaning up after your… conquests and there’s some kind of Instagram fad going around where any whore the does manage to take your meat down their throat are posing with T-shirts saying that they swallowed you and survived.’

Pump’s eyes looked up and seared into Bones.

‘I don’t mind telling you, Jawbreaker all that is extremely… hot…’

Bones wasn’t giving anything away.

‘Did I miss anything?’ Pump asked.

‘Them bitches wanted it. I gave them it,’ Jawbreaker said.

‘Well, add me to the list, Mr Jones.’

Pump reached forwards and took jawbreaker’s fly zip between the tip of thumb and forefinger.

‘Absolutely criminal what you’ve been allowed to get away with…’ she breathed.

He could feel her hot breath on the sensual exhale from her parted, pump bimbo lips as she leaned into him.

‘Trust me Jawbreaker, I’m a professional…’

With exquisite slowness and deftness of touch, Pump tugged Jawbreaker’s fly down one step at a time. The huge man’s camo pants were tented out just the same as every other of the STUD candidates, but Lex’s bulge seemed more capacious than any of the others. There was so much mass and pressure to it, and the fabric was throbbing too, like the whole thing was some kind of living organism that was respiring, in threatening repose.

Pump got the fly down, spat on her fingers, and inserted her hand into the aperture.

‘You have to be kidding me,’ she said.

She looked into Jawbreaker’s eyes as she rummaged around in his trousers. The fuckdoll lost none of her perfect composure and ice-cool domineering sneer, but everyone could tell that even she was a little thrown by what she was encountering.

Her hand continued to explore the depths.

‘Well what the fuck?’ Pump said. Her brow furrowed as if in confusion, ‘where does it start?’

Pump experimented with twisting the angle of her wrist, apparently trying to secure some kind of grip. The tendons in the honed, tautly defined muscles of her arms flexed as she eased her fingers around.

‘That’s a lot of meat,’ she said professionally, ‘I can’t get my fingers around it.’

Then she looked at him as if something suddenly clicked into place in her mind, and smiled at Bones.

‘Ah, there we are,’ she said, ‘found the base…’

Her whole face moved into an expression of warm, appreciative delight tinged with amazement.

‘That’s why they call you jawbreaker…’ she grinned.

‘Mmmhuh…’ Bones said. He still hadn’t moved, but Lex had detected a subtle shift in his posture as Pump’s fingers started their work.

‘Fucking tubesteak…’ Pump moaned.

The military fuckdoll vixen put her other hand into the mix. Lex could now see clearly that Pump was attempting to get a grip on the impossibly thick and girthsome dick to try to pull it through Jawbreaker’s fly. But the whole thing was simply not going to work. The hole was too small, she couldn’t get her hand round the sprouting base of the monolithic tool, and even if she did, the whole thing was too long to be unslung through the flies.

‘Let’s get a better look…’ Pump said.

The stacked tattooed bimbo hunkered down in a stripper squat in front of the bullcocked stud, on her haunches, huge monster tits sticking out in front and her gleaming, round, bulging, taut-skinned glutes propped on her stacked heels. Jawbreaker could just see the slutty minx’s eyes glitter naughtily up at him from under the brim of her cap, and then, without warning, Pump dug her fingers at either side of his fly zip and pulled apart.

She was clearly incredibly strong. The slut’s determined move tore Bones’ camo trousers in two at the groin, shredding the material in one swift claw, bisecting it at the middle, and she just kept going, shearing the fabric further each side so that the shreds of pants were bundled over his broad thighs.

Pump wasn’t lying about the log that she had uncovered. Fucking thing was huge. And thick.

It was a black, gleaming, threatening, glossy pipe, riddled with bulging, long veins that crisscrossed it from root to tip. It uncoileddownwards towards the floor, tissues pulsing visibly on the surface of it in brawny clusters, smooth and sprouting. The thing was as thick as Pump’s bicep, and the statuesque amazonian military-grade bimbo was completely jacked herself, a fitness freak fuckdoll.

Pump tried to grip the drooping trunk at its base in her right hand. Hopeless. Fully extended, her fingers could barely close around half of the meaty, glistening schlong’s circumference. Only by adding her left hand, cupping at around from the other side, encircling the brutish, monster fuck-stalk, could she make the tips of her fingers meet around it from either side.

‘It’s as thick as a lamp post!’ Pump exclaimed, greedily and needily. She twisted her hands upwards and made the long, fat stalk prod out towards her. The thing was gathering even more weight and heft as she did so, visibly engorging all the time, and it was clear that even as the bottom swung at her, it was immensely weighty.

Lex couldn’t quite register where Jawbreaker was size-wise in terms of measuring up to the other studs in terms of length, but in girth, there was no comparison. The name was clearly apt. Pump laid her arm along the length, seeking a comparison with her own dimensions. There wasn’t much in it.

Jawbreaker prized off Pump’s hands from his ebony monolith, grabbed it around the base in his own hand, and flopped it at her face. The heavy underside of the monstrous, veiny tube smacked against the peak of the stacked vixen’s cap and batted it down over her face, obscuring her vision. The massive alpha specimen took the cap in his left hand, tossed it in the air in front of him, and with his other hand still clasped around the broad root of the gargantuan club of meat, swung the whole ripening log, still not completely fully hard, baseball bat style.

Pivoting his hips, Bones’s flailing obsidian fuck-pipe contacted squarely with her cap, catching it just right, and the thing sailed forty feet over to the other side of the gym, smacking high against the far wall.

‘Crowd goes wild,’ Bones said. He flopped his dick into Pump’s face. Unresistingly, she let the whole length settle on her head, the rounded, apple-sized crown sticking up over the back of it.

‘I’m going to want more than a t-shirt when I get this down my throat,’ Pump said.

She shifted to the side and the whole thing flopped down off her face slowly, slung over the huge titted vixen’s shoulder instead. Then she stood.

Lex was stiffening. There was one person more in the line. Then him.

Major Pump stopped in front of the next STUD candidate.

‘Brad Arblaster.’

‘Ma’am.’

Brad didn’t perhaps fit into the template of braggadocio and hypermasculinity currently on display. It appeared that he actually had been in the army, so perhaps the civility was his way of earning brownie points with the military fuckdoll. There were now eight alpha studs, dicks out in the line behind him, all at boiling point, dripping hogs hanging out. Most were connected to the floor with drooping ropes of precum.

‘Present your weapon, soldier…’ Pump said.

‘Yes Ma’am.’

There was no fuss about this one. With the brisk and machinic movements of a solider presenting their weapon for inspection by a superior officer, Arblaster pulled out his absolutely giant fuckpiece. Zip, hoist, point.

Pump whistled.

The thing was huge, thick, straight, turgid, slick and hot. Most noticeable was an immense dorsal vein on top of the soldier’s swollen penis that was easily the thickness of a finger, and which lay all the way down the shaft. It branched off into multiple veins as it approached the enormous, smooth, bulbous red head.

Pump experimentally touched the crown with her forefinger, pressing the huge thing downwards and letting it spring back up.

‘Is it true what they say about you, Arblaster?’

‘Ma’am.’

‘About the loads? About those huge, hot creamy fucking loads that this thing shoots?’

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘Let me see those balls.’

Arblaster complied. He reached into his camo combats again and hauled out a huge, elastically floppy nutsack, with massive, capacious, lemon sized balls that settled into the flexing scrotal bag that came to hang below his knees.

‘At ease, you bitch.’ Pump said.

Pump weighed the monstrous testes in her hand, feeling the heat of the massive balls as they roiled in the nutsack. Slowly, she gathered both of them up, and very slowly and deliberately, draped them over the root of the obscenely distended organ and kept twining them round. Once, then twice, then three times. There was so much scrotal sac to furl over the meat log that by the time she had run out of flexibility, Arblaster’s balls were coiled up next to his dickhead.

The tip of the vast fuckpipe drooled ropes of syrupy precum all over his own balls.

‘Let me take care of your weapon, stud,’ Pump told him.

Lex was next in the line. It was him, and one other candidate.

Pump approached.