Colonel's Grandson

[PAustinFox]

Anyone remember this story? I am having a hard time finding it at the archives because a lot of links are dead. Please help me find this one.

[/\/\usclekid]

[COLOR=black]I had tried three times before to separate each paragragh only to run into problems. I finally got things to work. Thanks CelticMuscle for helping out.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=black][/COLOR]
[COLOR=black]The Colonel's Grandson [/COLOR]
[COLOR=black]by Zipman [/COLOR]


[COLOR=black]My senior year of high school I went with my parents to Palm Springs on spring break. At the time it didn't seem like such a geeky thing to do. I was seventeen and figured it would be the last year we would vacation as a family before I went to college. My folks went every spring to the same little motel. It was a cozy ring of one-story units surrounding a good-sized swimming pool. It was secluded and quiet and boring. Mostly retired people stayed there. My parents were the youngest couple there, I think, and I was the only teenager. I spent the week trying to work on my tan and reading books around the pool. By Thursday, I was finishing my third paperback when The Colonel came by. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]We called him The Colonel because he was retired from the Marine Corps. I don't know if he really was a colonel or if it was just a joking nickname. The Colonel was a tough and wiry widower in his seventies who spent about three months every winter at this motel. He had a deep desert tan, but it had taken a toll on his skin. His face was wrinkled like a prune and he had a permanent squint, like Popeye. But he was a vigorous and sinewy old guy and you got the impression he could still run a marine obstacle course if he had to. The Colonel told me he was driving to San Diego to pick up his grandson and bring him to Palm Springs for the weekend. To hear him tell, his fourteen-year-old grandson was a perfect physical specimen. A future marine who was already the best athlete any of his coaches had ever seen. The Colonel slapped the solid wooden cube next to my lounge chair that held my can of Pepsi. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"My grandson's body is as hard as this table," he said earnestly. Knowing how The Colonel tended to exaggerate, I nodded and tried to think of the proper response. The Colonel didn't wait for my answer. "You'll see. He's gonna be a good one, he is. I can tell already he's gonna surpass his daddy." I pretended to know what he was talking about. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]Early the next evening, my dad and I were coming back from an afternoon of golf. Twilight comes early in Palm Springs, when the sun dips behind the mountains. The daylight was already fading fast when we passed The Colonel's unit. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"Hey you two, come on in here!" he called through the open door. We stepped inside his unit and were introduced to his grandson, Bryce. The boy was wearing a large tee-shirt that said "MARINES" (natch) and knee-length baggy shorts. He was tall, only a couple of inches shorter than my six feet. His light-brown hair was trimmed in a buzz cut. Bryce looked athletic and strong, with broad shoulders and lean-muscled forearms. I especially noticed how his thick calf muscles moved as he walked over to shake hands with us. You could tell there wasn't any fat on his body. His tan was a lot darker than mine, but I guess that was to be expected, since San Diego is almost as sunny as Palm Springs. Bryce gave my dad a firm handshake, then held out his hand to me. I grabbed it and immediately felt his hand grip mine like a vice. I saw the little smile on his face as he did this, and I fought back with a pretty good squeeze of my own, but when the muscles in his forearm rippled again I yelped in pain and pulled back my hand. The Colonel noticed this, but instead of scolding Bryce he gave us both a little smirk and nodded his head. I got the impression he was happy to see his grandson being forceful and aggressive. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"They call him 'super-jock' at school," The Colonel said proudly. "He's won fitness contests at every grade level -- works out at least two hours every day." [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]The boy didn't seem embarrassed by this praise. It was probably familiar to him. "I want you both to see this," the old man continued. He turned to his grandson and patted the front of his shirt. "Show them, Bryce." The boy rolled his eyes and faked modesty for a moment, but it seemed to be a part of the act. Without any further encouragement, Bryce dutifully pulled up his tee-shirt and showed us his tanned and taut-muscled tummy. As we watched, he rippled his abs into a perfect eight-pack. It was more impressive than I could have imagined, with each muscle segment nicely defined and even his sleek obliques beautifully cut. Then, just as we thought it couldn't get any better, Bryce noisily blew the air out of his lungs through pursed lips and his flawlessly symmetrical washboard abs became even more deeply chiseled and took on a look of granite hardness. My dad said, "Wow!" and poked his fingers at the kid's solid gut. The first word that came to my mind was, "Fuck!" but fortunately I didn't say it out loud. I took my turn futilely stabbing my fingers at that brick-wall of muscle. Bryce had a calm and satisfied look on his face, like he'd seen our amazed reaction a million times before. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"Go ahead, haul off and give 'em a real good poke right in the breadbasket," The Colonel said. "Let him have your best shot. He can take it." [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]My dad and I looked at each other. "You mean, throw a punch?" Dad said questioningly. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"Sure!" The Colonel said. "See if you can knock the wind out of him. I bet you can't." [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]I hesitated, but Bryce braced his feet and kept his stomach muscles tight, so I curled my fingers into a fist and prepared to throw a small punch. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"No, no, boy," The Colonel said. "No offense, but you couldn't hurt him in a million years. I meant your daddy, son." [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]I blushed and stepped to one side, noticing Bryce's little smirk. My dad obliged the old man by lightly punching Bryce in the stomach a couple of times. The Colonel was clearly annoyed. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"Not like that -- like this!" he said. Brushing my dad aside, the old marine pulled his fist back and threw a hard punch into his grandson's stomach as if he were genuinely trying knock the stuffing out of him. The loud smack of fist against flesh filled the room. The boy took it like a man, barely staggering at all. Before he had a chance to react, The Colonel hit him again, then a third time. My dad, fearing the old man had gone insane, put a hand on his shoulder to restrain him. The Colonel ignored him and threw one final punch, winding up twice as far and throwing it twice as hard. This time the smacking sound was more like a loud thud. The boy let out a small grunt and stumbled back a step but did not double over. The Colonel gave a satisfied grunt of his own and turned to us. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"You see -- it didn't hurt him at all!"[/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]I could see some redness showing through the tanned skin on Bryce's stomach where the blows landed. The boy calmly dropped his shirt and assumed the stoic gaze of a marine ready for anything. My dad cleared his throat and said we had to be going. I think he was worried there might be even more violent demonstrations of his grandson's toughness if we stayed. My dad and I let Bryce and The Colonel know how impressed we were before we left. It seemed to satisfy the old man.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]*****[/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]The room where my parents and I stayed was at the far end of the pool. It was a large unit with a kitchen and a bedroom. I slept on the pull-out couch in the front room, which is why I woke up when the splashing in the pool began before 7AM the next morning. I pulled back the curtain and saw The Colonel standing beside the pool in a sweatsuit, with a stopwatch. Bryce was swimming laps at an amazing pace, performing perfect racing-style somersault turns at each end. This went on for several minutes, after which Bryce nimbly propelled his body out of the pool and began to brush the excess water off his skin. He was wearing a black Speedo, and I watched him move his hands smoothly and swiftly over his hard body like squeegees. Normally, fourteen is an awkward age in a boy's physical development, but not for this kid. Bryce's physique was already like a mature athlete. His muscles were both sleek and powerful-looking. I was definitely envious. The early-morning light showed every bump and ripple of sinew on his body. For a fourteen-year-old, he had exceptional development. If the power of his swimming strokes were any indication, he was also quite strong. The water in the pool was churning furiously and remained choppy for several minutes.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]Although the desert air was quite chilly at sunrise, Bryce didn't put on his sweats. After a quick rubdown with a large white towel, The Colonel ordered his grandson to sit on the back end of the diving board facing the pool with his legs stretched out on the board. The old man straddled the board and sat on the boy's shins. Bryce put his hands behind his head and began doing extended-range sit-ups, each time lowering his torso all the way until his head touched the pool deck. No wonder the kid had a perfect eight-pack! I enjoyed watching those washboard abs getting a hard workout. After a few dozen reps they moved on to other equally difficult exercises. Bryce did a handstand and his grandfather lightly held his ankles as he performed rapid handstand push-ups, touching his nose to the ground each time before fully extending his arms again. Next, The Colonel jumped on the boy's back and made him perform slow squats in strict form while holding on to the back of a chair, followed by an amazing number of donkey calf raises with Bryce's toes on the edge of the pool so he could fully lower his heels for maximum extension. The Colonel got on his knees holding the ends of a towel and Bryce grabbed the middle and cranked out arm curls. It was not a valid rep unless The Colonel's knees left the ground at the top of each movement. In the early-morning light I watched Bryce's lean biceps pump up to an amazing fullness as they worked. At this point I had to stop watching and perform my own morning exercise ritual. I barely managed to finish before my parents emerged to start breakfast.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]I showered and dressed faster than I had all week. When I went outside, Bryce and The Colonel were just leaving their unit. Bryce was wearing a large backpack that looked very heavy, and his grandfather was wheeling a bicycle. The boy jogged out the front gate followed by the old man on the bike. Like a good drill instructor, he was taking his recruit out for a double-time hike with a heavy load. I wondered if this was what the kid did for fun every Saturday morning.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]*****[/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]That afternoon I was reading by the pool when I saw Bryce again. He appeared in his black Speedo and made a perfect dive into the pool. I kept my eye on him behind my sunglasses as he playfully performed various strokes. At one point Bryce reached up to grab the end of the diving board and started doing pull-ups, touching the back of his neck to the board each time. I watched how his tight biceps knotted up into hard balls of muscle when he held the position for a couple of seconds at the top of each pull-up. I wished I had a larger book so I could more easily use it to cover the crotch of my swim trunks.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]When Bryce emerged from the water he toweled off and walked over to my lounge chair. I laid my paperback down on my trunks, where the ridge of my dick made a nice bookmark. Bryce checked out my bottle of sunscreen, wrinkled his nose at the high number on the label and asked if I had any baby oil. One of the two old Jewish ladies playing cards under an enormous umbrella at a nearby table had a bottle in her tote bag. Bryce took it and squirted a large quantity of oil on his chest. His hands moved slowly up and down his torso, lazily spreading the oil over his skin. He stood right by my chair but never looked directly at me, allowing me to stare without embarrassment. He knew I was watching, of course. Bryce was not shy about showing off his body, and he took his time covering every inch of exposed skin with a liberal coating of oil, giving his tanned skin the glossy shine of polished bronze. His athletic body was defined and hard. My eyes focused on every one of his perfectly toned muscles as he rubbed them. When he sat on the edge of my chair and asked me to do his back, I was prepared. My oily fingers moved smoothly over his rippling lats, massaging them gently with just enough pressure to fully appreciate the firm development. The anatomical structure revealed in his detailed musculature was even more impressive close-up. The only thing I love more than looking at lean, strong, athletic bodies is actually touching them. It was hard to believe this kid was only fourteen-years-old. His build was compact but amazingly solid and defined. When he flexed, the muscles blossomed. He briefly spread his lats for me as I finished rubbing, then he stood up and said, "Thanks." My book hopped in my lap.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]I didn't get any more pages of my novel read that afternoon. I held the book open in front of me, but watching Bryce sunning himself was my only entertainment. Like most energetic fourteen-year-olds, it was hard for Bryce to stay still. He changed position at least every two minutes. Frequently he would twitch a muscle in response to some imagined insect or move his hands over his body to smooth out the oil. With every movement I marveled how his paper-thin skin revealed the many separations in each individual muscle group. I had to keep my knees raised to hide my interest. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]***** [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]That evening several of the adults, including my parents and The Colonel, were going out for dinner. Bryce and I were invited, but he knocked on my door and begged me to help convince his grandfather that we would rather stay at the motel to watch TV together and order a pizza. Suddenly I was his friend, although we had hardly spoken to each other before this. Of course, I thought spending the evening together was a great idea, especially since it was our last night in Palm Springs before catching an early-morning flight home. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]The pizza arrived as the adults were leaving and Bryce came over to my unit to eat. He was wearing his baggy shorts with a Hawaiian shirt and sandals. The kid sure could eat. Before I had finished my second piece of pizza he had devoured half the pie. We didn't have much of a conversation over dinner, since his mouth was always full. Afterward we went into the bedroom to watch TV because the set had a better picture. Bryce wanted to watch his favorite move, "The Terminator," which he claimed to have seen at least a dozen times. We sat on the end of the bed and watched Arnold make his nude entrance. While the Terminator beat up some punks to steal their clothes, Bryce suddenly asked me what I thought of Arnold's body. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"It's pretty good... I guess," I said, rather weakly. Immediately I realized how stupid and evasive that sounded. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"I look better than he does naked," Bryce said, matter-of-factly. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]I wondered where this was leading. I didn't have to wonder long. Bryce jumped up and started unbuttoning his shirt. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"Wanna see?" he asked as he stripped off his shirt, as if I hadn't seen him practically nude already. To Bryce it was just another excuse to show off his body. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]His shorts and sandals were off in a flash. Underneath he was still wearing the black Speedo. The sheen of the remaining oil on his skin gave his sun-baked tan a healthy glow. Bryce hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his skimpy swimsuit and gave me a devilish smile. He was already a sexy tease at fourteen. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"I'll show mine if you show yours," he said, impishly. Before I could answer, the little black trunks were being peeled down his strong thighs. Out popped a thick, uncircumcised cock that was as big as the size of his basket had promised. Right away I noticed the numerous large veins that extended from the base all the way to the foreskin. He actually slapped his hands on his butt and thrust out his hips toward me. The kid certainly wasn't shy about being nude. His dangling penis bobbed in my direction. He gave a small naughty-boy laugh, then gripped it with his right hand and started pumping. It only took a few quick strokes to raise his cock past horizontal and begin to expose the head. At that point he decided to strike a sexy bodybuilding pose for me, putting his fists behind his neck, pointing his elbows at the ceiling, and flexing his arms, abs, and thighs. While he held the pose his cock remarkably continued to grow and elevate on its own, pulsing in time with his slow heartbeat. I watched in stunned silence as he unselfconsciously spat in his palm and began pumping more furiously on his cock. In less than thirty seconds he had a full, throbbing erection. When he took his hand away it stayed firmly in its upright position. He could make it bob and twitch, but it remained pointed up toward the ceiling. He turned in profile so I could get a better look at it. The head was fully emerged from the foreskin and the veins twisting around the shaft were bulging more prominently. The covering skin had that glossy look that results from being stretched to its limit. Compared to his narrow waist and hips it looked huge -- close to eight inches in length, I'd guess, and thick enough to be a handful. He swayed his hips and made it swing from side to side. It's size and thickness further enhanced the masculine perfection of his strong and athletic body. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]I was enjoying the show so far, and Bryce knew it. He hooked his thumb behind the head of his cock and bent it down to horizontal, then slid his thumb off and watched it spring up and slap his tight abs with a loud smack. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"Listen to that!" he bragged with boyish self-admiration. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]He repeated the maneuver several more times, each time bending it down a bit further so that it made a louder smack when it hit his taut stomach muscles. He seemed to delight in the noise it made. It was hard for me to imagine being so physically uninhibited at that age. Okay, so he probably wasn't going to win the Nobel Prize... there was still something charming about his cheerfully unselfconscious attitude. And the body on this kid was almost too perfect to be real. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]After all this stimulation his cock had expanded to its maximum size and hardness. He put his hands on top of his head and again made his cock twitch a couple of times by tightening his groin muscles. There was almost no space between his abs and the head of his cock as he did this. It looked like a rocket ship ready for launch. He may have been a conceited little exhibitionist, but he had a right to be proud of his body. To be that physically and sexually mature at his young age had me feeling pretty envious. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"Okay, now it's your turn," Bryce said, dropping his hands to his sides. I barely heard what he said. I couldn't take my eyes off his bobbing erection. It's size was unbelievable. He took advantage of my mesmerized state and grabbed the bottom of my tee-shirt, quickly pulling it up over my head. I gave a startled yelp and scrambled back onto the middle of the bed, on my knees. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"Hey, no fair!" Bryce said. "You said you would show yours if I showed mine."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"I didn't say anything!" I protested. Bryce's erection was still raging full hard. It hadn't lowered even a fraction of an inch. He put his hands on his hips and frowned. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"Don't be shy, you pussy!" he complained. "You ain't afraid to get naked, are ya?" Then he got a devilish look in his eye. "Hey... maybe you want me to make you do it, huh? Is that what you want?" [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]He lunged at the bed and I rolled off and ran toward the bathroom. I tried to slam the door in his face but Bryce busted it wide open with his shoulder. I stumbled back and he grabbed me in a bear hug. He lifted me up and carried me backward out the door, then spun around and tossed me onto the bed. Immediately he put one foot up on the edge of the bed and launched his body high into the air, imitating a professional wrestler by performing a knee drop right across my chest. He was laughing but I had all the wind knocked out of me for a few moments, during which time I could feel his knee on my chest pinning me down as my shorts and underwear were quickly stripped off my body. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"Let's stroke this baby up and see what you got!" Bryce said. I felt his spit-slicked hand begin to furiously massage my already stiff cock. At the same time he was stroking himself to maintain his own erection. It didn't take long to get me fully hard, especially since his tight little butt was bobbing right in front of my face the whole time, displaying the perfect tan lines his Speedo had made. When he was satisfied that my cock wasn't going to get any bigger, Bryce spun around and leaned over my body in a push-up position. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"Time to compare," he said, as he lowered his hips until our genitals touched. His casual attitude toward all this nude contact was freaking me out. Feeling the firmness of his round, tight balls pressing against my sensitive nutsack sent a shiver through my whole body. Next, I could feel the length and width of his hard cock covering mine completely as he pressed our hips together. The head of his huge cock extended a good way past the end of my erection. Bryce shifted his weight to his left arm and gripped our two cocks firmly with his large right hand. I gasped as I felt our erections being pressed tightly together. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"Looks like I win," he bragged. When I looked between our bodies I could see the comparison wasn't even close. "Mine is longer and thicker," he declared. "Now let's see who's is harder!" [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]He suddenly tightened his grip and I gasped again. His big, veiny cock was unyielding and it pressed into mine with so much force that a stab of pain went shooting deep into my groin. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"Stop, you're hurting me!" I yelled. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"I know," he grinned. "Ain't it cool? That's because my bigger cock is crushing your wimpy little cock. Mine is like a rod of steel and yours is like a mushy banana. How does it feel to have your manhood mashed under mine, huh? I bet it hurts, don't it?" He tightened his grip again and my straining cock was crushed even more between his fingers and the stone hardness of his ever-swelling erection. My howl of pain made him laugh. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"I guess I win this contest too, huh? Can you feel how hard my cock is next to yours?" He tugged on both our cocks and I felt another surge of power run through his cock. "It feels strong, don't it?" he said. "Strong and powerful. Your cock feels like a tube of toothpaste. I can squish it with my fingers. I can tell my cock is way more powerful than yours. I win again, loser!" [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]Bryce seemed to enjoy praising his own manhood and making fun of mine while he squeezed them together as hard as he could. It was clear this was arousing him even further. The need to be superior and to dominate seemed to be bred into him, like a good marine. Meanwhile, I was in considerable pain. I stated yelling loudly for him to let go, but his eyes suddenly lost focus and his mouth dropped open. I saw his pecs and abs snap into full rigid hardness and a shiver went through his body. I could feel his cock swell in anticipation of climax, and suddenly he erupted with a huge blast of cum. With my head propped up on the pillow I had a perfect view, coming right at me. The first load hit me on the chin, then a second and even more powerful blast smacked me right in the face, flooding both my eyes with stinging cum. As I wiped my eyes, I felt several more of his blasts coat my chest with hot, thick liquid. Because he was still squeezing both of our erections together, every powerful surge of his hard cock was being transmitted all along the length of my aching, sensitive penis. I could feel each big wave of cum pulse through his cock as it shot out like a cannon. The kid had an amazing load in those big balls of his. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]I was still blinking the sting out of my eyes when Bryce let out a big sigh and sat back on his haunches. He stretched his torso up and raised his arms into a double-biceps flex. His big, hard erection stood up proud and tall, still emitting little dribbles of cum that coated its length. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"Man, that felt good!" he crowed, holding his pose. He turned his head to gaze lovingly at his arm. "Pretty impressive, ain't it?" he said, flashing me a big smile. "Hell, I'm only fourteen but I'm already more of a man than you are! Bet you're feelin' jealous right now, huh?" His cocky smile was a real turn-on for me, and seeing his tight young biceps ball up into rock hardness right before my eyes made me groan out loud. I reflexively reached for my bruised and battered cock and started stroking. At this point, the pain only amplified the pleasurable sensations I was feeling. Bryce saw the reaction his muscle display was having on me. "You like my muscles?" he said, smiling wickedly at the way I squirmed as I picked up the pace of my stroking. He could tell I was openly admiring the beauty and power of his hard-chiseled physique. "Yeah man, check 'em out!" Bryce said, clearly enjoying the worshipful attention being paid to his body. He increased the tension in his flexing arms, causing his biceps to bulge into maximum size and hardness, and gazed at them lovingly. "Look at these babies! They're gettin' pretty big and hard, dude! Everybody wants to feel 'em -- and I just started liftin' weights, too. Imagine what they're gonna look like a year from now! I'm gonna get 'em huge, man! By the time I'm your age guys are gonna shit their pants when they see me flex my fuckin' arms!" His quivering biceps looked like two large rocks that had somehow been shoved under the tanned, paper-thin skin. I reached up with my left hand and rubbed it over the incredible peak of his right bicep. The combination of squeezing that rock-hard muscle, plus the tension on my abs as I lifted my shoulders off the bed, immediately sent me over the edge. My blasts felt as powerful as any I had ever experienced, but it only made a warm, sticky mess all over my stomach. When it was over, the pain took over and my erection subsided quickly. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]My eyes regained focus as I caught my breath. "All right, dude!" Bryce said, smiling. He was still displaying his biceps for me. Somehow his cock remained a pillar of steel, while mine had quickly returned to a wet noodle. He lowered his arms and snickered a little. "Not much of a shooter, are ya? When I blast away I gotta clean it off my headboard." He reached out and slowly dragged his finger through the thick layer of his own cum that covered my upper chest. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"My cum looks better than yours, too," he said. To illustrate his point, Bryce used his other hand to run a finger through the thinner puddle on my stomach. He held up the two fingers in front of my face. My watery, grayish cum ran down his hand, while the thick, bright white glob of his cum remained on the end of his finger. I couldn't resist this offering. I instinctively closed my eyes and extended my tongue, lapping up his still-warm cum from his finger until it was licked clean. This made Bryce laugh. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"Man, you are weird!" he said, shaking his head as he climbed off the bed. "You better be careful -- guys are gonna start callin' you 'queer' if you do stuff like that." Bryce quickly pulled on his Speedo and somehow managed to tuck his ever-stiff cock under the waistband. I propped myself up on the pillows and tried to think of something to say. Bryce didn't notice my stunned look and didn't seem to care. He simply gathered up his clothes without another word. He had fun playing the dominating male, got his rocks off, and now it was over. The conquering marine writes his own rules -- you got a problem with that? [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"Thanks for the pizza!" he called as an afterthought before heading out the door. I stared blankly after him for several seconds before I yanked several tissues from the box on the nightstand and started to clean myself up. I didn't quite know what to think about Bryce. Despite his amazing body and take-charge attitude he was still only fourteen years old, after all. I let out a big sigh and slumped down on my pillows. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]On the TV screen in front of me, Arnold-The-Terminator picks up a large gun off the store counter and begins to load it. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"You can't do that," the gun dealer says. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=black]"Wrong," Arnold replies, as he points the gun at the man and calmly blows him away.[/COLOR]

[CelticMuscle]

In other words, spaces!

Originally Posted by /\/\usclekid

[COLOR=#000000]The Colonel's Grandson by Zipman

My senior year of high school I went with my parents to Palm Springs on spring break. At the time it didn't seem like such a geeky thing to do. I was seventeen and figured it would be the last year we would vacation as a family before I went to college. My folks went every spring to the same little motel. It was a cozy ring of one-story units surrounding a good-sized swimming pool. It was secluded and quiet and boring. Mostly retired people stayed there. My parents were the youngest couple there, I think, and I was the only teenager. I spent the week trying to work on my tan and reading books around the pool. By Thursday, I was finishing my third paperback when The Colonel came by.

We called him The Colonel because he was retired from the Marine Corps. I don't know if he really was a colonel or if it was just a joking nickname. The Colonel was a tough and wiry widower in his seventies who spent about three months every winter at this motel. He had a deep desert tan, but it had taken a toll on his skin. His face was wrinkled like a prune and he had a permanent squint, like Popeye. But he was a vigorous and sinewy old guy and you got the impression he could still run a marine obstacle course if he had to. The Colonel told me he was driving to San Diego to pick up his grandson and bring him to Palm Springs for the weekend. To hear him tell, his fourteen-year-old grandson was a perfect physical specimen. A future marine who was already the best athlete any of his coaches had ever seen. The Colonel slapped the solid wooden cube next to my lounge chair that held my can of Pepsi. "

"My grandson's body is as hard as this table," he said earnestly. Knowing how The Colonel tended to exaggerate, I nodded and tried to think of the proper response. The Colonel didn't wait for my answer. "You'll see. He's gonna be a good one, he is. I can tell already he's gonna surpass his daddy." I pretended to know what he was talking about.

Early the next evening, my dad and I were coming back from an afternoon of golf. Twilight comes early in Palm Springs, when the sun dips behind the mountains. The daylight was already fading fast when we passed The Colonel's unit. "Hey you two, come on in here!" he called through the open door. We stepped inside his unit and were introduced to his grandson, Bryce. The boy was wearing a large tee-shirt that said "MARINES" (natch) and knee-length baggy shorts. He was tall, only a couple of inches shorter than my six feet. His light-brown hair was trimmed in a buzz cut. Bryce looked athletic and strong, with broad shoulders and lean-muscled forearms. I especially noticed how his thick calf muscles moved as he walked over to shake hands with us. You could tell there wasn't any fat on his body. His tan was a lot darker than mine, but I guess that was to be expected, since San Diego is almost as sunny as Palm Springs.

Bryce gave my dad a firm handshake, then held out his hand to me. I grabbed it and immediately felt his hand grip mine like a vice. I saw the little smile on his face as he did this, and I fought back with a pretty good squeeze of my own, but when the muscles in his forearm rippled again I yelped in pain and pulled back my hand. The Colonel noticed this, but instead of scolding Bryce he gave us both a little smirk and nodded his head. I got the impression he was happy to see his grandson being forceful and aggressive.

"They call him 'super-jock' at school," The Colonel said proudly. "He's won fitness contests at every grade level -- works out at least two hours every day." The boy didn't seem embarrassed by this praise. It was probably familiar to him. "I want you both to see this," the old man continued. He turned to his grandson and patted the front of his shirt. "Show them, Bryce."

The boy rolled his eyes and faked modesty for a moment, but it seemed to be a part of the act. Without any further encouragement, Bryce dutifully pulled up his tee-shirt and showed us his tanned and taut-muscled tummy. As we watched, he rippled his abs into a perfect eight-pack. It was more impressive than I could have imagined, with each muscle segment nicely defined and even his sleek obliques beautifully cut. Then, just as we thought it couldn't get any better, Bryce noisily blew the air out of his lungs through pursed lips and his flawlessly symmetrical washboard abs became even more deeply chiseled and took on a look of granite hardness. My dad said, "Wow!" and poked his fingers at the kid's solid gut. The first word that came to my mind was, "Fuck!" but fortunately I didn't say it out loud. I took my turn futilely stabbing my fingers at that brick-wall of muscle. Bryce had a calm and satisfied look on his face, like he'd seen our amazed reaction a million times before.

"Go ahead, haul off and give 'em a real good poke right in the breadbasket," The Colonel said. "Let him have your best shot. He can take it."

My dad and I looked at each other. "You mean, throw a punch?" Dad said questioningly.

"Sure!" The Colonel said. "See if you can knock the wind out of him. I bet you can't."

I hesitated, but Bryce braced his feet and kept his stomach muscles tight, so I curled my fingers into a fist and prepared to throw a small punch.

"No, no, boy," The Colonel said. "No offense, but you couldn't hurt him in a million years. I meant your daddy, son."

I blushed and stepped to one side, noticing Bryce's little smirk. My dad obliged the old man by lightly punching Bryce in the stomach a couple of times. The Colonel was clearly annoyed. "Not like that -- like this!" he said. Brushing my dad aside, the old marine pulled his fist back and threw a hard punch into his grandson's stomach as if he were genuinely trying knock the stuffing out of him. The loud smack of fist against flesh filled the room. The boy took it like a man, barely staggering at all. Before he had a chance to react, The Colonel hit him again, then a third time. My dad, fearing the old man had gone insane, put a hand on his shoulder to restrain him. The Colonel ignored him and threw one final punch, winding up twice as far and throwing it twice as hard. This time the smacking sound was more like a loud thud. The boy let out a small grunt and stumbled back a step but did not double over. The Colonel gave a satisfied grunt of his own and turned to us. "You see -- it didn't hurt him at all!"

I could see some redness showing through the tanned skin on Bryce's stomach where the blows landed. The boy calmly dropped his shirt and assumed the stoic gaze of a marine ready for anything. My dad cleared his throat and said we had to be going. I think he was worried there might be even more violent demonstrations of his grandson's toughness if we stayed. My dad and I let Bryce and The Colonel know how impressed we were before we left. It seemed to satisfy the old man.*****

The room where my parents and I stayed was at the far end of the pool. It was a large unit with a kitchen and a bedroom. I slept on the pull-out couch in the front room, which is why I woke up when the splashing in the pool began before 7AM the next morning. I pulled back the curtain and saw The Colonel standing beside the pool in a sweatsuit, with a stopwatch. Bryce was swimming laps at an amazing pace, performing perfect racing-style somersault turns at each end. This went on for several minutes, after which Bryce nimbly propelled his body out of the pool and began to brush the excess water off his skin. He was wearing a black Speedo, and I watched him move his hands smoothly and swiftly over his hard body like squeegees. Normally, fourteen is an awkward age in a boy's physical development, but not for this kid. Bryce's physique was already like a mature athlete. His muscles were both sleek and powerful-looking. I was definitely envious. The early-morning light showed every bump and ripple of sinew on his body. For a fourteen-year-old, he had exceptional development. If the power of his swimming strokes were any indication, he was also quite strong. The water in the pool was churning furiously and remained choppy for several minutes.

Although the desert air was quite chilly at sunrise, Bryce didn't put on his sweats. After a quick rubdown with a large white towel, The Colonel ordered his grandson to sit on the back end of the diving board facing the pool with his legs stretched out on the board. The old man straddled the board and sat on the boy's shins. Bryce put his hands behind his head and began doing extended-range sit-ups, each time lowering his torso all the way until his head touched the pool deck. No wonder the kid had a perfect eight-pack! I enjoyed watching those washboard abs getting a hard workout. After a few dozen reps they moved on to other equally difficult exercises. Bryce did a handstand and his grandfather lightly held his ankles as he performed rapid handstand push-ups, touching his nose to the ground each time before fully extending his arms again. Next, The Colonel jumped on the boy's back and made him perform slow squats in strict form while holding on to the back of a chair, followed by an amazing number of donkey calf raises with Bryce's toes on the edge of the pool so he could fully lower his heels for maximum extension. The Colonel got on his knees holding the ends of a towel and Bryce grabbed the middle and cranked out arm curls. It was not a valid rep unless The Colonel's knees left the ground at the top of each movement. In the early-morning light I watched Bryce's lean biceps pump up to an amazing fullness as they worked. At this point I had to stop watching and perform my own morning exercise ritual. I barely managed to finish before my parents emerged to start breakfast.

I showered and dressed faster than I had all week. When I went outside, Bryce and The Colonel were just leaving their unit. Bryce was wearing a large backpack that looked very heavy, and his grandfather was wheeling a bicycle. The boy jogged out the front gate followed by the old man on the bike. Like a good drill instructor, he was taking his recruit out for a double-time hike with a heavy load. I wondered if this was what the kid did for fun every Saturday morning.*****That afternoon I was reading by the pool when I saw Bryce again. He appeared in his black Speedo and made a perfect dive into the pool. I kept my eye on him behind my sunglasses as he playfully performed various strokes. At one point Bryce reached up to grab the end of the diving board and started doing pull-ups, touching the back of his neck to the board each time. I watched how his tight biceps knotted up into hard balls of muscle when he held the position for a couple of seconds at the top of each pull-up. I wished I had a larger book so I could more easily use it to cover the crotch of my swim trunks.

When Bryce emerged from the water he toweled off and walked over to my lounge chair. I laid my paperback down on my trunks, where the ridge of my dick made a nice bookmark. Bryce checked out my bottle of sunscreen, wrinkled his nose at the high number on the label and asked if I had any baby oil. One of the two old Jewish ladies playing cards under an enormous umbrella at a nearby table had a bottle in her tote bag. Bryce took it and squirted a large quantity of oil on his chest. His hands moved slowly up and down his torso, lazily spreading the oil over his skin. He stood right by my chair but never looked directly at me, allowing me to stare without embarrassment. He knew I was watching, of course. Bryce was not shy about showing off his body, and he took his time covering every inch of exposed skin with a liberal coating of oil, giving his tanned skin the glossy shine of polished bronze. His athletic body was defined and hard. My eyes focused on every one of his perfectly toned muscles as he rubbed them. When he sat on the edge of my chair and asked me to do his back, I was prepared. My oily fingers moved smoothly over his rippling lats, massaging them gently with just enough pressure to fully appreciate the firm development. The anatomical structure revealed in his detailed musculature was even more impressive close-up. The only thing I love more than looking at lean, strong, athletic bodies is actually touching them. It was hard to believe this kid was only fourteen-years-old. His build was compact but amazingly solid and defined. When he flexed, the muscles blossomed. He briefly spread his lats for me as I finished rubbing, then he stood up and said, "Thanks." My book hopped in my lap.

I didn't get any more pages of my novel read that afternoon. I held the book open in front of me, but watching Bryce sunning himself was my only entertainment. Like most energetic fourteen-year-olds, it was hard for Bryce to stay still. He changed position at least every two minutes. Frequently he would twitch a muscle in response to some imagined insect or move his hands over his body to smooth out the oil. With every movement I marveled how his paper-thin skin revealed the many separations in each individual muscle group. I had to keep my knees raised to hide my interest. *****

That evening several of the adults, including my parents and The Colonel, were going out for dinner. Bryce and I were invited, but he knocked on my door and begged me to help convince his grandfather that we would rather stay at the motel to watch TV together and order a pizza. Suddenly I was his friend, although we had hardly spoken to each other before this. Of course, I thought spending the evening together was a great idea, especially since it was our last night in Palm Springs before catching an early-morning flight home. The pizza arrived as the adults were leaving and Bryce came over to my unit to eat. He was wearing his baggy shorts with a Hawaiian shirt and sandals. The kid sure could eat. Before I had finished my second piece of pizza he had devoured half the pie. We didn't have much of a conversation over dinner, since his mouth was always full. Afterward we went into the bedroom to watch TV because the set had a better picture. Bryce wanted to watch his favorite move, "The Terminator," which he claimed to have seen at least a dozen times. We sat on the end of the bed and watched Arnold make his nude entrance. While the Terminator beat up some punks to steal their clothes, Bryce suddenly asked me what I thought of Arnold's body. "It's pretty good... I guess," I said, rather weakly. Immediately I realized how stupid and evasive that sounded. "I look better than he does naked," Bryce said, matter-of-factly. I wondered where this was leading. I didn't have to wonder long. Bryce jumped up and started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Wanna see?" he asked as he stripped off his shirt, as if I hadn't seen him practically nude already. To Bryce it was just another excuse to show off his body. His shorts and sandals were off in a flash. Underneath he was still wearing the black Speedo. The sheen of the remaining oil on his skin gave his sun-baked tan a healthy glow. Bryce hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his skimpy swimsuit and gave me a devilish smile. He was already a sexy tease at fourteen. "I'll show mine if you show yours," he said, impishly. Before I could answer, the little black trunks were being peeled down his strong thighs. Out popped a thick, uncircumcised cock that was as big as the size of his basket had promised. Right away I noticed the numerous large veins that extended from the base all the way to the foreskin. He actually slapped his hands on his butt and thrust out his hips toward me. The kid certainly wasn't shy about being nude. His dangling penis bobbed in my direction. He gave a small naughty-boy laugh, then gripped it with his right hand and started pumping. It only took a few quick strokes to raise his cock past horizontal and begin to expose the head. At that point he decided to strike a sexy bodybuilding pose for me, putting his fists behind his neck, pointing his elbows at the ceiling, and flexing his arms, abs, and thighs. While he held the pose his cock remarkably continued to grow and elevate on its own, pulsing in time with his slow heartbeat. I watched in stunned silence as he unselfconsciously spat in his palm and began pumping more furiously on his cock. In less than thirty seconds he had a full, throbbing erection. When he took his hand away it stayed firmly in its upright position. He could make it bob and twitch, but it remained pointed up toward the ceiling. He turned in profile so I could get a better look at it. The head was fully emerged from the foreskin and the veins twisting around the shaft were bulging more prominently. The covering skin had that glossy look that results from being stretched to its limit. Compared to his narrow waist and hips it looked huge -- close to eight inches in length, I'd guess, and thick enough to be a handful. He swayed his hips and made it swing from side to side. It's size and thickness further enhanced the masculine perfection of his strong and athletic body.

I was enjoying the show so far, and Bryce knew it. He hooked his thumb behind the head of his cock and bent it down to horizontal, then slid his thumb off and watched it spring up and slap his tight abs with a loud smack. "Listen to that!" he bragged with boyish self-admiration. He repeated the maneuver several more times, each time bending it down a bit further so that it made a louder smack when it hit his taut stomach muscles. He seemed to delight in the noise it made. It was hard for me to imagine being so physically uninhibited at that age. Okay, so he probably wasn't going to win the Nobel Prize... there was still something charming about his cheerfully unselfconscious attitude. And the body on this kid was almost too perfect to be real.

After all this stimulation his cock had expanded to its maximum size and hardness. He put his hands on top of his head and again made his cock twitch a couple of times by tightening his groin muscles. There was almost no space between his abs and the head of his cock as he did this. It looked like a rocket ship ready for launch. He may have been a conceited little exhibitionist, but he had a right to be proud of his body. To be that physically and sexually mature at his young age had me feeling pretty envious. "Okay, now it's your turn," Bryce said, dropping his hands to his sides. I barely heard what he said. I couldn't take my eyes off his bobbing erection. It's size was unbelievable. He took advantage of my mesmerized state and grabbed the bottom of my tee-shirt, quickly pulling it up over my head. I gave a startled yelp and scrambled back onto the middle of the bed, on my knees. "Hey, no fair!" Bryce said. "You said you would show yours if I showed mine." "I didn't say anything!" I protested. Bryce's erection was still raging full hard. It hadn't lowered even a fraction of an inch. He put his hands on his hips and frowned.

"Don't be shy, you pussy!" he complained. "You ain't afraid to get naked, are ya?" Then he got a devilish look in his eye. "Hey... maybe you want me to make you do it, huh? Is that what you want?" He lunged at the bed and I rolled off and ran toward the bathroom. I tried to slam the door in his face but Bryce busted it wide open with his shoulder. I stumbled back and he grabbed me in a bear hug. He lifted me up and carried me backward out the door, then spun around and tossed me onto the bed. Immediately he put one foot up on the edge of the bed and launched his body high into the air, imitating a professional wrestler by performing a knee drop right across my chest. He was laughing but I had all the wind knocked out of me for a few moments, during which time I could feel his knee on my chest pinning me down as my shorts and underwear were quickly stripped off my body.

"Let's stroke this baby up and see what you got!" Bryce said. I felt his spit-slicked hand begin to furiously massage my already stiff cock. At the same time he was stroking himself to maintain his own erection. It didn't take long to get me fully hard, especially since his tight little butt was bobbing right in front of my face the whole time, displaying the perfect tan lines his Speedo had made. When he was satisfied that my cock wasn't going to get any bigger, Bryce spun around and leaned over my body in a push-up position. "Time to compare," he said, as he lowered his hips until our genitals touched. His casual attitude toward all this nude contact was freaking me out. Feeling the firmness of his round, tight balls pressing against my sensitive nutsack sent a shiver through my whole body. Next, I could feel the length and width of his hard cock covering mine completely as he pressed our hips together. The head of his huge cock extended a good way past the end of my erection. Bryce shifted his weight to his left arm and gripped our two cocks firmly with his large right hand. I gasped as I felt our erections being pressed tightly together.

"Looks like I win," he bragged. When I looked between our bodies I could see the comparison wasn't even close. "Mine is longer and thicker," he declared. "Now let's see who's is harder!" He suddenly tightened his grip and I gasped again. His big, veiny cock was unyielding and it pressed into mine with so much force that a stab of pain went shooting deep into my groin. "Stop, you're hurting me!" I yelled.

"I know," he grinned. "Ain't it cool? That's because my bigger cock is crushing your wimpy little cock. Mine is like a rod of steel and yours is like a mushy banana. How does it feel to have your manhood mashed under mine, huh? I bet it hurts, don't it?" He tightened his grip again and my straining cock was crushed even more between his fingers and the stone hardness of his ever-swelling erection. My howl of pain made him laugh. "I guess I win this contest too, huh? Can you feel how hard my cock is next to yours?" He tugged on both our cocks and I felt another surge of power run through his cock. "It feels strong, don't it?" he said. "Strong and powerful. Your cock feels like a tube of toothpaste. I can squish it with my fingers. I can tell my cock is way more powerful than yours. I win again, loser!"

Bryce seemed to enjoy praising his own manhood and making fun of mine while he squeezed them together as hard as he could. It was clear this was arousing him even further. The need to be superior and to dominate seemed to be bred into him, like a good marine. Meanwhile, I was in considerable pain. I stated yelling loudly for him to let go, but his eyes suddenly lost focus and his mouth dropped open. I saw his pecs and abs snap into full rigid hardness and a shiver went through his body. I could feel his cock swell in anticipation of climax, and suddenly he erupted with a huge blast of cum. With my head propped up on the pillow I had a perfect view, coming right at me. The first load hit me on the chin, then a second and even more powerful blast smacked me right in the face, flooding both my eyes with stinging cum. As I wiped my eyes, I felt several more of his blasts coat my chest with hot, thick liquid. Because he was still squeezing both of our erections together, every powerful surge of his hard cock was being transmitted all along the length of my aching, sensitive penis. I could feel each big wave of cum pulse through his cock as it shot out like a cannon. The kid had an amazing load in those big balls of his.

I was still blinking the sting out of my eyes when Bryce let out a big sigh and sat back on his haunches. He stretched his torso up and raised his arms into a double-biceps flex. His big, hard erection stood up proud and tall, still emitting little dribbles of cum that coated its length. "Man, that felt good!" he crowed, holding his pose. He turned his head to gaze lovingly at his arm. "Pretty impressive, ain't it?" he said, flashing me a big smile. "Hell, I'm only fourteen but I'm already more of a man than you are! Bet you're feelin' jealous right now, huh?" His cocky smile was a real turn-on for me, and seeing his tight young biceps ball up into rock hardness right before my eyes made me groan out loud. I reflexively reached for my bruised and battered cock and started stroking. At this point, the pain only amplified the pleasurable sensations I was feeling. Bryce saw the reaction his muscle display was having on me. "You like my muscles?" he said, smiling wickedly at the way I squirmed as I picked up the pace of my stroking. He could tell I was openly admiring the beauty and power of his hard-chiseled physique. "Yeah man, check 'em out!" Bryce said, clearly enjoying the worshipful attention being paid to his body. He increased the tension in his flexing arms, causing his biceps to bulge into maximum size and hardness, and gazed at them lovingly. "Look at these babies! They're gettin' pretty big and hard, dude! Everybody wants to feel 'em -- and I just started liftin' weights, too. Imagine what they're gonna look like a year from now! I'm gonna get 'em huge, man! By the time I'm your age guys are gonna shit their pants when they see me flex my fuckin' arms!" His quivering biceps looked like two large rocks that had somehow been shoved under the tanned, paper-thin skin. I reached up with my left hand and rubbed it over the incredible peak of his right bicep. The combination of squeezing that rock-hard muscle, plus the tension on my abs as I lifted my shoulders off the bed, immediately sent me over the edge. My blasts felt as powerful as any I had ever experienced, but it only made a warm, sticky mess all over my stomach. When it was over, the pain took over and my erection subsided quickly. My eyes regained focus as I caught my breath. "All right, dude!" Bryce said, smiling. He was still displaying his biceps for me. Somehow his cock remained a pillar of steel, while mine had quickly returned to a wet noodle. He lowered his arms and snickered a little. "Not much of a shooter, are ya? When I blast away I gotta clean it off my headboard." He reached out and slowly dragged his finger through the thick layer of his own cum that covered my upper chest.

"My cum looks better than yours, too," he said. To illustrate his point, Bryce used his other hand to run a finger through the thinner puddle on my stomach. He held up the two fingers in front of my face. My watery, grayish cum ran down his hand, while the thick, bright white glob of his cum remained on the end of his finger. I couldn't resist this offering. I instinctively closed my eyes and extended my tongue, lapping up his still-warm cum from his finger until it was licked clean. This made Bryce laugh.

"Man, you are weird!" he said, shaking his head as he climbed off the bed. "You better be careful -- guys are gonna start callin' you 'queer' if you do stuff like that." Bryce quickly pulled on his Speedo and somehow managed to tuck his ever-stiff cock under the waistband. I propped myself up on the pillows and tried to think of something to say. Bryce didn't notice my stunned look and didn't seem to care. He simply gathered up his clothes without another word. He had fun playing the dominating male, got his rocks off, and now it was over. The conquering marine writes his own rules -- you got a problem with that? "Thanks for the pizza!" he called as an afterthought before heading out the door. I stared blankly after him for several seconds before I yanked several tissues from the box on the nightstand and started to clean myself up. I didn't quite know what to think about Bryce. Despite his amazing body and take-charge attitude he was still only fourteen years old, after all. I let out a big sigh and slumped down on my pillows. On the TV screen in front of me, Arnold-The-Terminator picks up a large gun off the store counter and begins to load it. "You can't do that," the gun dealer says. "Wrong," Arnold replies, as he points the gun at the man and calmly blows him away.[/COLOR]

[emsgdh]

Thank you very much.