Major Pump Part 4

Everyone, predictably, wanted in. Some people especiallywanted in after their witness of the brazen whore’s sexual dynamism. Standing in front of them, heaving her massive round tits, the spherical shape of the vast, globular orbs not altering at all as the stacked fuckdoll hefted them in her palms, juggling the massive round bronzed cans and sliding her fingers round the sides to push them together. They were fucking huge, sticking out of her chest like bazookas, and Major Pump ended the display by slapping the outer sides together, the military bimbo’s enormous torpedo gazongas not changing shape at all as she smacked the hefty globes.

Maggot hadn’t covered himself in glory, but he had covered the floor in… himself.

‘Bitch wasn’t lyin’ about getting pulled out feet first,’ Lex found himself saying.

There was a rumble of assent from the 11 remaining studs.

Major Pump placed the toe part of her stacked platform sole in the puddle of spunk that Maggot had deposited on the wooden floor and stirred it around, making a swirl in the sticky white ooze. There was a big dent and cracks in the wooden flooring where the unfortunate stud’s face had impacted against it.

Major Pump’s eight-inch stripper heels were sticky in the gunk.

‘Gentlemen,’ Major Pump said, and then in the sexiest voice possible, ‘…attention…’

The gorgeous bimbo slut struck a pose, her legs apart, and she allowed the tiny wisp of black fabric that covered her pussy to slowly slide down, working the spaghetti-strap down over her luscious hips before the shred of material clung in the opening of her thigh gap, seemingly suspended in mid-air by the films of girlcum that attached it to her sticky, bald, pink pussy.

‘Let’s see what you’re really made of…’

At this, the monster-jugged slut reached her hand out and found A.P’s trousers. The enormous, brawny stud didn’t so much as flinch, but Lex saw sweat beading on the man’s forehead. Major Pump let her elegant fingers dance lightly against the fabric of A.P.’s combats, but the fingers soon started to swirl and circle around the bulge protruding from under the material. Baring her teeth to the stud in a slutty snarl, Pump soon had her palm flat against his crotch and her finger suggestively splayed.

‘… I’m through fucking around.’

Instantly, the stacked whore dropped to her haunches in a stripped squat in front of A.P. The curves of her bombshell ass stuck out like bronzed globes behind her. Sending a look of searing intensity up at A.P., her mouth hanging open and her smoky, almond-shaped eyes transfixing him with pure lust, she added her other hand to the thorough examination of A.P.’s junk, now with both hands exploring the throbbing and tenting of the material. Pressing her lips together and looking up at him with an ‘OOO…’ face, the stacked military bimbo theatrically squeezed the massive bulge that was developing under the fabric, and then, her left hand steady on the jacked stud’s crotch, slowly threaded her right hand downwards to firmly trace the outline of the vast shape that spread down A.P.’s trousers.

Expertly performing a facial expression of pure, molten, unadulterated lust as she looked up at A.P. from her haunches, Pump cocked an eyebrow at him and released a small gasp of delight as her roving hand slowly discovered more and more trouser-clad pipe stretching further and further down the huge man’s left leg. Then the huge-breasted vixen was back to pursing her plump lips together and creasing her brow as if deeply impressed. A.P. stayed impassive. It had worked for him so far.

When Pump’s right hand traced the outline of the solid log down to A.P.’s knee, the whorish bimbo teasingly touched her tongue to the fabric, even as her right hand slid further, and, seemingly impossibly, further down, past the knee.

‘Alright A.P. Let’s see what you’re packing.’

Major Pump, a little bit more businesslike, transferred both hands to waistband of A.P.’s combats, and with a final, cheeky, bite of her lip, pulled them all the way down around his ankles in one smooth motion – WHHHHHHOOOOOOSH.

There was a pause of about three seconds.

‘Oh my God.’

She said it in a small voice. Then she turned her head to the 10 observing S.T.U.D. candidates.

‘Oh my God.’

Turning back her head, she looked at what she had just unsheathed.

Again, quietly: ‘Oh my god.’

She looked up at A.P.

‘Oh my God.’

Then she looked back at the thing in her face.

‘OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDD!’

Her face had become a cartoon expression of astonishment. Her mouth was flapping agape and her eyes stretched open as wide as they would go, staring in complete disbelief of what she was beholding. Her face was frozen. Slowly, after about a full fifteen seconds of bewilderment, during which she didn’t move an inch, she slowly rotated her head to the ten S.T.U.D hopefuls. Only then did her expression change, her eyes searching out each of them as her face changed into a disbelieving wince. Turning back, she mouthed, ‘What…’ in breathy wonder.

A.P.’s monster schlong, unsheathed, simply flopped right out of his trousers and was dangling between his legs like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. The meaty slab of black tubesteak lolled downwards, wreathed in thick ropes of monstrous, finger-thick veins, all the way down to an apple-sized head that was level with his calves.

‘Fuck.’

A gluey thread of precum emerged from the rounded head and dripped downwards, touching against the floor. As it dangled and snapped off, another quickly followed it.

‘That is fucking HUGE!’

Pump put her hand around the base and, with some difficultly, wielded the dark, ebony snake upwards, her face conveying admiration, fascination, awe and amazement. The brawny beast swung around in the air like a flail.

‘Those are the biggest veins I’ve ever seen in my life,’ the stacked whore muttered, drawing her face closer to the monolithic megacock, ‘fucking mutant.’

A.P. still said nothing. But even he was a bit surprised when the bimbo drill-instructor scooted further underneath him, hefted his lolling meatstick in her fist and swung it upwards so that it swung down and smacked dead centre over the middle of her face. With a thick, heavy thump, the glistening black fucktube slapped her in face dead weight. Pump took her hand away and let the giant fuck club rest on her face. The size of the black meat pipe obscured nearly all of her features, and the smooth, gleaming crown was projecting out far over the back of her head.

‘Fucking godly,’ said Major Pump, from under A.P.’s monster shaft. Her nose was almost compressed into her face by the weight of the thing.

For a while the gorgeous slut kept it there, nuzzling into A.P.’s balls; then the stacked, big-titted hardbody, popping her glutes for everyone, slowly felt the weight of the monster instrument displace itself, and the whole meaty cum-cannon shifted a little to one side before sliding off her face, the heavy weight of the monster shaft smacking against Pump’s immense, jutting cans.

Pump giggled.

‘Let’s see what the rest of you have got…’

Getting up and throwing herself into a salacious stripper strut, Pump started her inspection of the troops.

The Major gathered herself, almost sneering, and again the self-confident pout pushed up her top lip as reached the end of the line of potential studs, her lithe hips sliding from side to side, so that the gorgeous military babe was facing ten silent men.

‘Diogenes,’ Pump drawled, addressing the muscular Greek stud who eyed her almost insolently. ‘Give… me… your… best…’

Pump slid her hands up her sides as she pronounced each word with expressive smoothness, the words rolling huskily out of her throat as her hands moved to her massive knockers that stuck out like smooth, sun-kissed bowling balls, the eye-popping globes bulging out of her chest. Pump squeezed her monster boobs, hips rocking.

‘…Shot…’

Diogenes, rippling with muscles, almost carved out of alabaster marble like a Hellenic statue, simply unzipped his combats, shoved his hand down and unsheathed a rock hard prick that bulged with veins and pointed up at the ceiling when he took it out. Pump’s eyes lit up as the more-than footlong dong protruded out at her from the Greek stud’s fist, the ripped aspirant squeezing it so the purple head bulged.

‘Nice…’

Pump tipped Diogenes a wink. Onto the next, she faced up against Chet Tripplehorn the all-American boy. Linebacker, quintessential jock, clean-cut, clean living Chet had acquired a habit of reaming whole high-school cheer teams as a post-game wind-down and victory celebration, and had once dumped thirty loads in a four-hour fuckfest that filled the asshole, pussy, and mouth of every single cheerleader of a defeated team.

Chet was chewing gum.

‘Present your weapon, soldier,’ Pump said.

Chet blew a bubble, and unzipped.

‘Take it out yourself.’

Pump grinned.

‘Aren’t you a gentleman.’

The bimbo vixen reached into Chet’s combats and gripped something, her hands contacting hard, heavy flesh. She moaned approval softly, the hold she had on his contracting member tightening. Squeezing it slowly, she arched her back and let her tits project out further, before sliding her hand around Chet’s glans and pulling it up and out.

A huge, hard cock was disclosed. Massive, vascular, cut, Pump’s hand looked tiny even as it coiled around the bloated tip.

‘Yeah, I’m not going to be getting my hand around that one,’ Pump commented.

It was true. Her hand was hefting something baseball-bat thick, the more that emerged from Chet’s combats.

‘Hope you know how to use this thing…’ said Pump, massaging Chet’s monster cock by circling her thumb around the glans, stirring slick, oily precum around the head.

‘You’ll see, slut.’

‘Sweet talker.’

Pump dropped the cock, but tasted the precum by training her fingers in her mouth and swirling her tongue round luxuriously. Chet eyed her and pulled open his flies further, releasing more and more of his enormous, fleshy length to the world.

Pump eyed the next in line.

‘Victor, I-‘

Viktor was an East European of indeterminate origin, having bounced around the fleshpots of Bulgaria, Romania, and Hungary for two decades, and was known for an inordinate amount of simultaneous girlfriends that actually functioned as a vast hareem of camgirls and porno chickadees that flaunted flesh, smoked cock, and paraded themselves as sluts all for his benefit. Dozens of hopelessly infatuated young sluts vied for his attention by becoming as big as whores as they could, and the more Viktor made bank, the better the constant round of blowjobs lavished upon him got. Some of those teens got real good real quick.

The instant Major Pump’s monster tits got by his side Viktor pulled down his combats in one swift stroke.

‘-FUCK!!!!‘

Viktor didn’t stand on ceremony. His dick sprang out at her like an Exocet missile. Swinging in a tight circle. It smacked against his tight, sculptured abs and stuck right out, precum dangling from it. Almost impossibly rigid, Viktor’s fuck tube was so hard it didn’t even throb or pulsate. It was like concrete. Thick, solid, huge, he jacked it with his pc muscle and kept it slapping up against his groin.

‘Nearly had my fucking eye out, Viktor!’ Major Pump remarked, smiling, getting a really good view of the long, veiny prong that cut about in the air in front of her eyes. She stuck her tongue out at him, then spat an incredibly well-aimed glob of frothy slobber onto the shaft. It arced through the air and landed right on the base of the dick.

‘How about you, McGraw?’ major Pump asked, moving onto the next stud. ‘What have you got for me?’

Lex had marked ‘Big Dog’ McGraw’s card from the off. The huge, scarred, tattooed windswept outdoorsman, bushy beard, bulging-bodied, a wild look in his eyes, surveyed Pump with an unwavering stare. One of the more cocky and obviously alpha-candidates, it wasn’t clear what kind of sexual experiences he was having on the Alaskan wildlands to make him so interesting to the S.T.U.D. academy, but what he lacked for in social graces he made up for in pure alpha energy.

‘You look angry, McGraw,’ Pump said.

‘It must be all the raw meat,’ ‘Big Dog’ growled.

‘Well shit,’ said the bimbo slut that was nearly halfway down the line, leaving a trail of tortured and precum-weeping monstercocks in her wake, ‘I ingest a hell of a lot more raw meat than you do, Big Dog. I’ve got eleven tubesteaks line up right now in rare condition. Maybe you should be scared of me?’

McGraw grizzled.

‘We’ll see who’s scared of who,’ he intoned, ‘why don’t you take it out?’

Pump’s hand had settled on the wild man’s package instantly, the bimbo cock addict had spreading her more-than suggestive finger right on the ominously-proportioned, monster bulge that was bulkily stretching the fibres of McGraw’s combats. The slut’s thick lashes fluttering up to catch the hirsute stud’s eyes for a second before they then too settled on the immense and heavy throbbing protuberance that was stretching the fabric of his trousers at his groin and down his muscled thigh.

‘Unnnfff-GAAAAWWWWD..!’ the hardbodied fuckdoll exclaimed lasciviously as her fingers met the decidedly brawny mass of coiled, almost inhumanly masculine tissue that was captured under the garment, her perfect teeth biting against her pillowy bottom lip as she struggled to compute the stud’s girthsome size in comparison to what she had encountered so far.

Once again Pump got on her haunches.

ZZZZZZZZiiiiiiiIPPPPP!

The sound of Pump’s swift unhitching of McGraw’s trousers sent a sound ringing round the gym. As her eager hand whisked the zip down, the pressure on the top button of McGraw’s combats caused it to give way. Popping off, it pinged directly against Major Pump’s nose.

‘Eeeek!’

The root of a monstrously sized organ became visible, wreathed in thick veins.

McGraw sifting down with his right hand to dislodge the humongous meatstick from where it was lodged in his trousers and unsheathed the monumental fuck-piston, presenting it to the stacked bimbo vixen who sank even further to her knees when she beheld it.

Gazing at it, eyes bulging out, Pump quickly computed that the monster shaft that was now sticking out into her face WASN’T EVEN HARD. McGraw might even rival A.P. for total size.

‘The show ain’t over until the big dog howls!’ McGraw intoned. The he howled like a wolf.