BODY GUARDS  - Chapter 1

By:  JOHN

The figure in the image before them was one of spectacular muscular 
accomplishment and stunning beauty. It consumed the screen with a 
flow of muscular tissue that draped the body in cascades of still 
formed hot lava at that moment just before turning stone solid. The 
almost-too-perfect handsome blond head reposed as if sleeping 
peacefully and reminded Wells of himself. 

The sheer volume of the stilled muscle was breathtaking and 
threatening at the same time. The pecs arced globally above the 
vacuum sculpted abdominal core. The massive, soft cock rounded almost 
as high as the pecs as it lay in curved splendor over top of the half-
hidden pear-sized testicles. The right arm hung heavily down off of 
the near side of the table filled with the wonder of astonishingly 
full rich biceps and triceps meat.  

The significance of the gluteal formations billowed out from below 
the small tight hips under the force of the weighted cock and 
minuscule waist. The rounded volume of the upper legs swept along 
like sculpted tumbled columns to the constricting area of the knee 
and then ballooned in tubular splendor into the bold bellies of the 
still veined calf muscles.

"What a waste!"

Major Weir broke the momentary silence and brought the fourteen 
spectators back into the moment and the meaning of this meeting as 
his large figure stepped in front of the projector. The two-
dimensional image of prone muscle ripped across the stretched fabric 
of his specially cut fatigues as his figure cast a dark bisecting 
shadow through the center of the splayed projected image. The Major 
was probably unaware that he had stopped at just the point where the 
impression of the soft cock shined in an exaggerated depiction across 
his lower jaw and onto his stiff, moving lips.

"His name was Arturo and he was found two days ago." The Major 
interrupted the military audience. "The cause of death is attributed 
to internal rupture of the large intestine and other vital lower 
abdominal organs. Initial reports are that he succumbed to a form 
of `protein poisoning' and, had it not been for that, there is no way 
of guessing how we could have stopped him." Before he died, he took 
out M3/5 Gobel and his handler. There is a video you need to see now. 
It isn't pleasant, but I need you to understand the power of an M4."

The room darkened and the short and slightly unfocused video like 
that taken on a hand-held videophone began to play on the screen. 
M3/5 Gobel was already in grasp of the living image of the great 
blond muscle beauty they had previously seen lying in the morgue. In 
the background was a small latin-looking man, probably Arturo's 
handler.

If the dead man was a creature of stilled beauty, then the living 
image was one of absolute wonder, even in the rough images being 
presented. Arturo stood a good three inches taller than Gobel who had 
been 5'-11". Gobel himself was a unique specimen with 415 pounds of 
pure American muscle exploding across every part of his finely 
chiseled body. 

Gobel's hands were struggling to rip the chiseled, interlocked arms 
of the blond giant from around his throat. His 27" biceps and triceps 
shook with power as their tremendous masses were shredded to 
perfection under the pressure of their working action. The thick tops 
of Gobel's generously arced pecs pushed up against Arturo's vastly 
muscled forearms cutting the air off from entering his lungs. His 
taut abs rose and fell as the monumentally muscled man gasped for 
whatever small amounts of oxygen he could pull in but the side view 
offered showed the ravishing severity of the vast tapering from his 
69" upper torso to his minuscule 28" waist.

Both men were naked. Almost immediately, Gobel's cock gushed with 
cum. You could not tell from the video just how long the two men had 
been engaged with each other but, clearly, it had been long enough to 
secure a sexual reaction from the struggling M3 victim. Gobel had 
been well known among the M3 corps for his fantastic 13" long cock. 
Not just for its wonderful length for an M3, but also because it had 
to have been a solid 3" across at the base.

The cause for his orgasm came into view as the image of Arturo's cock 
disappeared into Gobel's rectum. The power of the superior M4 became 
partially apparent when everyone realized from the way Gobel's balls 
were bouncing up and down slapping repeatedly into the bottom of his 
inflexible cock shaft was because his entire body was suspended in 
the air held in place only by the constricting power of the clutching 
arms and the raw strength of the cock embedded in his flexing ass.

Gobel's great human cannon fired off six or seven arcing loads of 
rich cream before he thought to lower one of his tremendously flexed 
arms and drive it deep against the side of the beautiful attacker 
just above his kidneys. While this would not and could not do much, 
if any, damage to an M4, it got the desired results as the man 
instinctively reached down to the point of impact. Gobel swung away 
quickly in the brief second of opportunity and stood facing the 
insanely muscled threatening beauty. Obviously, while Arturo had 
achieved the M4 level in body development, he had not been well 
trained yet or he would not have lost control of his victim so easily.

This momentary separation permitted the viewing audience to get a 
good gander at what a (then) living M4 would look like. The man was a 
monument to muscledom. If they had thought his ultimate destruction 
had been a waste from seeing his body reposed in the morgue, now they 
sighed remorsefully at the thought that this deadly muscle machine 
had been this stunningly beautiful in life.

The pecs that were huge embracing pillows in death had been startling 
wonders of man-meat when alive. Silver dollar aureole plated around 
half-inch long projecting nipples. These delicious chew-toys pointed 
downward at a 45-degree off the cantilevered surface of pec muscle as 
thick as a man's extended hand was long. It took an unimaginable 
amount of seriously formed pec meat to contribute their great 
presence over an appropriately balanced torso to add up to a final 
upper body girth of almost 78" not only were they stupendous in their 
scale and shape, they were equally dazzling in the sheer power they 
presented.

An M2 was twice as strong as a 300 pound-M1 and an M3 was twice as 
strong as an M2. The 480-pound M4 on the screen would have been twice 
again as strong as any M3 assembled in the room, or Gobel for that 
matter. In addition to the multiple increases in strength came a 
squaring of muscle fiber density. There was no knife strong or hard 
enough to have sliced up a serving of meat off of Arturo's tensed 
muscle tits undulating with angered pleasure on the video image.

As an additional layer of protection for the deliciously throbbing 
pecs, they were each supported by an adjacent muscle strewn arm over 
32" in circumference. This measurement was not made of some hollowed 
cavity describing an average man's waist, but rather was composed of 
rock solid raw meat from brutally carved surface to densely packed 
core. 

At just that moment in the video, Arturo clenched his body into an 
angrily crunched "Hulk" image. His dislodged 14" ramming hard cock 
raised its fist-sized head up in front of his clasped fists as a bold 
challenge to the still gasping M3 target. The figure was one of both 
frightening terror and awesome attraction

Then he charged Gobel ruthlessly. The upper body of the `smaller' man 
vanished into the rich smothering of Arturo's muscles. The blond's 
arms dove between Gobel's meaty appendages and his thickly cut lats. 
The two massive chests collided with crushing force as Gobel's 
rocklike pecs encountered the diamond hard larger man-tits. Arturo 
let one clasping arms slide down around the impossibly narrow 
waistband of his victim while raising the other massively muscled arm 
up and around to the front of Gobel's throat.

Gobel began to shutter with wildly convulsing seizures of intensely 
flailing muscle as Arturo began to lock his grip around the hard 
muscled waistband. The captive's ass muscles sheared into an image of 
undulating layered rock as his lower torso was drawn tighter and 
tighter beneath the undercarriage of the vast pectoral rock 
formations mounted across the blond gods immense chest.

Arturo locked an upraised open palm beneath Gobel's handsome chin. 
His mountainous 32" raised and curled bicep writhed with unyielding 
power as he forced the lower jaw into the upper one. Blood began to 
ooze from Gobel's previously inviting lips and dripped onto the top 
of their huge interconnected pecs below running between the various 
lines of striated meat.

Gobel's back rolled into an unnatural concave form as the more 
massive muscle monster consumed the lesser body against his own 
precipitous pecs and within his vacuumed ab cavity. Even without any 
sound, the viewing men could sense the cracking noises as Gobel's 
lower vertebrate was separated into its individual lower lumbar 
pieces shearing the spinal cord that it protected in the process. His 
lower jaw collapsed into his own mouth cavity as the surging hand 
attached to the inhumanly huge biceps destroyed that part of Gobel's 
face.

Arturo seemed so intent in his reactive anger that he continued to 
squeeze and push the previously perfectly muscled and now deceased 
body into positions impossible for the human form to assume. Just as 
Arturo seemed to begin to recognize that the body he clasped was no 
longer a living being, the video ended abruptly.

"That was the last image we received from, Ben, Gobel's handler." 
Major Weir jumped in quickly after the shocking video had 
concluded. "We have no information about Ben following his sending 
this phone transmission and have heard nothing from him since. It is 
probably fair to assume that he was Arturo's next victim."

"As you can see by Arturo's size, someone has found or, more 
probably, captured Ryan One and figured out how to produce an `M4' 
level being." The Major added. "I don't have to tell you men how 
devastating this kind of raw strength and power can be in the wrong 
hands and, based upon this one turning up in Argentina and the havoc 
he caused before something or someone else caused Arturo's death, we 
have to assume that Ryan One is in the wrong hands."

"Our government has asked us to get Ryan back and to eliminate any 
other `M' level beings that may have been created since Ryan One 
vanished from his compound two months ago." Major Weir continued.

The Major knew how this information would affect the men in his 
command and could see the anger, fear, surprise and questions in 
their eyes and on their faces. How could an M4 be created in just two 
months? How could they, as M3's be expected to bring down any M4? If 
Gobel was unable to overcome the power of an untrained M4, how could 
they be expected to be any more successful?

"Look, guys," The Major went on assuming a more parental tone. "This 
is what you are here for. I know it doesn't seem possible for there 
to be an M4 generated this fast, but there was the proof right before 
your eyes. My guess is that those behind this pushed him too fast and 
his internal system just couldn't absorb all the stresses associated 
with the jump from level 3 to level 4. That fact, in and of itself, 
may be your greatest weapon in defeating any others that may be out 
there … and in getting Ryan One back."

"Five pairs of you are off to Buenos Aires as quickly as we can get 
your transport ready. Your job will be to scout for clues and to find 
out how many more of these muscle-machines we have to deal with and 
see if you can get any information as to the whereabouts of Ryan 
One." Major Weir directed resuming his command posture. "M3/4 and 
M3/7, along with your handlers have their own assignment. You four 
are to meet me here tonight at 1900 hours."

With that, the commander dismissed his entourage, shut down the 
projector and walked out of the room. The image of the reposing 
collection of impossibly beautiful muscle and the living version of 
the same creature destroying one of their own remained in the minds 
of the men long after it had left the screen. A buzz rose up as the 
14 men began their own dialogue. They knew their roles and knew them 
well. The talk was limited to two topics.

First, there were the deep felt expressions of sorrow over the brutal 
loss of M3/5 Gobel and his handler.  He had been relatively new to 
the group, only about a year. During that time he had not really been 
fully assimilated into the core because, as the newcomer, M3/5 Gobel 
had been away on several training excursions and recognizance trips 
with Weir. Still they had found him to be an honorable, if not almost 
too quiet a man. His handler, Ben had only been on board a few weeks 
and was the third handler for Gobel in his short tenure.

Then there was the discussion about the unimaginable amount of muscle 
and power that the deceased M4 image had carried. All the "M" class 
soldiers were men, and all of them were gay. `Don't ask, don't tell' 
didn't apply here. They had been selected, enhanced and trained 
because, within the fifty-three genetic triggers that had been 
discovered that determined homosexual orientation, it was also found 
that, with the right combination of other dominant genetic traits, 
they could best sustain the rigors of the body enhancement program.

Ryan One, like his two other identical triplet brothers, carried an 
extremely unusual genetic coding such that proteins from their semen, 
when mixed into the blood stream of the `M' carriers, resulted in 
unusually enhanced and intensely dense musculature. Over the years, a 
core of some 40 M-class men had been molded. Twenty-four of them were 
active today. Eight were listed as M1, eight at M2, including the 
Major, and these eight (now seven) had enough genetic triggers in 
place to have achieved the M3 level.

Each level represented a quantum jump in muscular size, density and 
capacity. The M1's were all around 300 pounds of solid male muscle. 
An M2 would be about 360 pounds. The few who made it to the M3 level 
found themselves blessed with an average of 420 pounds of sharply 
honed, extraordinarily dense muscle.

M3 had been the highest level successfully achieved - until now. The 
deceased M4 would have weighed in at close to 480 pounds of even more 
impenetrable muscle. It was believed that the human body could not 
sustain a density classification higher than an M6. For a human to 
achieve that level it was estimated that he would weigh in at over 
600 pounds with his muscle so densely packaged that not even a high-
powered large-caliber rifle shot would be able to penetrate the glory 
of his muscle. An M4 could have easily resisted virtually any blade 
and, probably, a decent sized handgun fired from a reasonable 
distance.

The handlers were of equal importance. Each `M' had his own handler 
who had been selected to be paired with his respective partner 
because of the ability of the handler to absorb and process Ryan 
One's and his brother's highly toxic semen and re-inject it in a more 
gently processed form into the posterior cavity of their partner. 
Handlers were, as the name implied, capable of "handling" the toxic 
semen of Ryan and had male appendages so prodigious as to be able to 
penetrate far enough for the large intestinal tracts of their 
respective `M' for them to absorb the needed seminal proteins.

Roger belonged with M3/4-Wells and Oscar was with M3/7-Klein. Roger 
was a "serious romantic". He loved his job and loved his charge but 
was equally committed to his cause, country and service. His 160 
pounds of flexible and wiry energy was wrapped tightly onto his 
aesthetically hairless 5'-9" frame. The constant black-hair crew cut 
belied the hidden handsomeness of his sharply cut face.

Oscar was much more liberal and, when a party was to be had; it was 
usually Oscar who was behind getting it started. If there was a need 
to get a hold of something forbidden, Oscar was your man. Oscar 
looked the part of the party animal. His straight chestnut hair was 
parted to one side and always slipped down in front of one eye. He 
sported a small mustache and was more filled out than Roger with 180 
pounds gently distributed in a soft, but pleasant manner over his 5'-
10" height. Silky fur covered the central core of his chest and 
drifted playfully down toward his amazingly dexterous member.

Conversations soon wound down.  The five teams scheduled to depart 
for Argentina scurried off to get packed and loaded. Wells, Klein and 
Roger headed off to their quarters while Oscar said he had to go pick 
up cleaning and would meet them back here as scheduled.

At 1900 hours sharp, M3/4-Wells and M3/7 Klein along with their 
handlers returned to the Briefing Room as ordered. The others had 
departed on a transport almost an hour ago. The Major was nowhere to 
be seen.  This was very unusual because the Major prided himself on 
his own self-induced discipline and expected nothing less from the 
men under his command. Hearing a noise from the room next door that 
contained the private gym in which the M's trained. The four men 
entered cautiously.

There, on a bench at one end of the gym was the Major. He was on his 
back, naked on the flat bench and pounding out a series of bench 
press reps with a heavily loaded weight bar. His handler, Mark, 
straddled the Major. The trim small butt of the handler had 
completely consumed the Major's cock and threatened to crush the 
ample balls that had welled up into solidly round masses under the 
applied human weight.

Major Weir may "only" have been an "M2", but he was at the very top 
of the scale for that category with 385 pounds of dense, sharp muscle 
on his 5'-11" frame. The steely striated pecs covering his 62" chest 
swelled into stunningly cuts globes of chiseled meat as he pushed his 
body through another heated set of 8 reps before clanging the 
weighted bar back onto its support brackets.

Mark slowly disengaged his tightened ass from the Major's sexually 
charged cock. Ten inches of proudly aroused meat finally emerged with 
a loud plop as the mushroomed head slid through the tight ring of 
Mark's sphincter muscle. Mark's own 16" long, sensuously up-curved 
cock sprung free from between the Major's sweat soaked pecs.

As the Major's dick tickled itself free from Mark's interior, the 
handler's cock erupted with pec-soaking cum onto the heaving chest of 
Major Weir. Wells and Klein could tell that Ryan One's absence was 
already having an effect on the amount of handler cum. While the 
volume spewed of hot white juice spilled onto the quivering pecs was 
five or six times what would be expected from a normal man, it was 
only half of what could be delivered for consumption after absorbing 
a full dose of Ryan's, or his brothers, rich cream.

Since there was very limited growth value in Mark's current 
ejaculation, there was no `sin' in wasting it playfully over the 
sweaty Major's body. Mark leaned over and began to tongue the 
rippling chest taking back into him as much of his own cum as he 
could. His well-practiced tongue slid over to one of Major Weir's 
extremely sensitive nipples as the handler began to expertly fondle 
the aroused tit projection while the Major worked on his own 
throbbing cock.

It was only another moment before he, too, began to quake with muscle 
describing seizures as his rigid 10" member fountained high with 
thick, white cum. Of course, had he just assimilated Ryan-enriched 
cum from his handler, he would not have been permitted this release 
until the enhancing effects of the preciously processed internalized 
cum had had time to course through his feeding muscles.

"That felt good!" The Major asserted as he rose and turned to face 
the four waiting men. "I hope you have all gotten your releases 
before we set out on this assignment. If you haven't you may want to 
do so immediately following this briefing."

"Yes, sir!" Klein beamed happily at the thought.

"Gentlemen, the four of you have been selected to serve as the core 
members of the team on this assignment." Weir continued 
directly. "The other five teams will remain undercover and report 
their findings only and directly to me. They are already following up 
various leads on the movements of our deceased rouge M4 friend and 
his handler."

"As of this moment, you all can consider yourselves dishonorably 
discharged!" The Major announced.

The four men listened intently and confused.

"A paper trail has been created describing how you have participated 
in unacceptable attempts to secure samplings of the Ryan brother's 
stored cum for your own personal enhancement use." He continued.

"But that isn't true, Major." Wells snapped.

"Of course it isn't!" Weir interrupted. "But you and Klein have the 
highest gene selection ratings of all you M3's and, as such, the best 
opportunity to survive the transition to an M4 level - if that were 
possible. And, apparently, that is now possible somewhere in Buenos 
Aires."

"We need you four to go down there as defectors and try to infiltrate 
whatever organization exists. Once we get inside, we believe you can 
lead us to Ryan One." The Major smiled. "Tomorrow morning an apparent 
breech in security will be leaked alluding to the fact that you are 
suspected of having broken into the camp facilities today that Ryan 
One and his brothers occupy, or occupied, to try to steal semen for 
yourselves and you are now being sought for prosecution."

"Sounds pretty risky, sir!" Klein questioned. "What if they find out 
this is all a sham?"

"Well, I'm sure you know what that means." The Major retorted. "And, 
of course, we will have to deny any knowledge to the contrary. So I 
advise you guys to stay focused and stay sharp. After all, we want 
you back and we don't want what happened to M3/5 Gobel to happen to 
you. He obviously tripped onto something and there are those who 
apparently didn't like it."

"Yes, sir." All four responded simultaneously.

Picking up a navy blue gym bag from the floor he handed it to Oscar.

"What's this?" Oscar asked.

"It contains money, traveling credentials and, most importantly, 
several canisters of the Ryan brothers cum, soldier!" The Major 
announced. "We need to make this look as real as possible. Use it if 
you need it and as you need it, but be careful with it. There's 
enough here to push both Wells and Klein to the M5 level if necessary 
but you know the immense dangers involved in that."

"That's it gentlemen." He concluded. "You leave on a private flight 
at 2300 tonight. The address where you will pick up any information 
we get from the other team members is also in the bag. Read it, 
memorize it, and destroy it. Good luck and I expect to see you all 
soon."

The Major turned and marched out. The recently pumped musculature 
covering his nude 385-pound body flexed and flowed with handsome 
military precision as he walked away. Mark gathered up the Major's 
discarded uniform and followed quickly behind with a final salute 
toward the four remaining figures.

"Well, you heard the Major!" Oscar pronounced after a brief silence 
and then, turning to Klein, added. "Permission to begin, sir."

"Why not!" Klein laughed as he began unbuttoning his crisp tight 
shirt.

Oscar moved in to assist as Roger cast a questioning glance toward 
his charge. Wells smiled shyly and began to undo his own uniform 
coverings. Quickly the astoundingly muscled bodies of the two M3-
class soldiers began to burst into view. The shirts fell to the floor 
simultaneously as the handlers slipped down onto their knees to 
remove the thigh-tightened pants covering their lower appendages.

Even unpumped the exposed torsos were nothing short of spectacular. 
The stripped men began to lightly flex their anxious muscles pushing 
them to rock-like sharpness. There was a lot of muscle on a 420-pound 
well-formed body, even considering the exaggerated density of the 
meat they had developed through the combination of endless weight 
training and processed cum-protein enhancement.

Wells 70" chest was two inches larger than Klein's but both dripped 
with perfectly formed pecs, lats and upper backs. The massive scale 
of deeply sliced deltoids capping their bouldered shoulders further 
pronounced the width of their torsos. The sharp rounded delt meat 
dove into a dark defining line between them and the spectacle of 
their upper arm muscles.

Klein flexed his 29" biceps and triceps mass proudly as the vein-
charged meat rolled and fissured into anatomically descriptive 
formations. Wells 27" arm muscles seethed with diamond hard power. 
Klein lifted his freshly pumped arms to form a wondrous double biceps 
pose as the peaked balls of his multi-split biceps rose toward the 
bottom of his shaking, clenched fists. Wells constricted his torso 
into a massively sheered most-muscular pose. Cables of thickly lined 
muscle criss-crossed his huge sharp pecs and crashed together into 
the canyon walls defining the depths of his inaccessible cleavage.

Two sets of 42" diameter thighs flushed out in coiled lines of sharp 
meat as they were released from their tight fabric prisons. These 
were followed by Klein's 24" calf muscles and the overwhelming 26" 
pair that Well's owned.

Neither man, like their counterparts wore any underwear when on base. 
Klein's cock unfurled to its fully masted 12" statue almost 
immediately upon release. Wells 13" pile-driver took a bit longer to 
completely flesh out to muscle-hard readiness. Wells cock was as 
beautiful to look upon as his strikingly handsome face. The gentle 
sweep of the lightly veined shaft tapered only slightly as it moved 
from it's two inch width at his groin and achieved the same width at 
the point where the fleshy collar of meat enshrouded perfectly formed 
cock head.

Roger and Oscar were not far behind their charges in discarding their 
uniforms. Roger could achieve an erection at the drop of a hat, 
which, no matter how many times Wells had witnessed it, was nothing 
short of amazing. As the handler of an M3 level team member, Roger 
possessed a cock that, by any standards, was beyond huge. It had to 
be so that he could deliver his fortified loads of cum as far into 
his companion as possible. And, in spite of the 21" length, Roger's 
cock possessed its own sensation of beauty. It was as thick as Wells' 
and, like all handlers, brilliantly hard when aroused. Roger loved 
his cock as much as he admired Wells' muscular body.

Oscar was pleased with his 18" monster. What it lacked in length when 
compared to Roger's, it made up in brutal circumference. It measured 
a solid 2 ½ " across at the root and, about ¾ of the way down the 
amazingly straight shaft, flared generously out to almost 3" wide 
before slipping back down to impact the 2 ½" wide crown collar. It 
was rumored that Oscar was capable of maintaining the horizontal 
position of his fully aroused, impressive manhood while supporting a 
45-pound weight plate.

Oscar and Klein went first. Klein spread his gloriously muscled body 
over the same bench that the Major had used with Mark only moments 
before. Oscar needed no prompting before throwing his slim body in 
line above the waiting M3 cock. Wells pleasured himself by smoothing 
an available lubricant over the length and width of his compatriot's 
hot, hard member. Oscar impaled himself in one swift motion. His own 
painfully hard cock slapped loudly against the underside of Klein's 
opened pecs.

Reaching up, Klein grabbed the still-weighted barbell used by Major 
Weir forcing his massive pecs to constrict capturing the leading 
several inches of Oscar's monstrous cock within their grasp. Oscar 
began to slide over Klein's lower abdomen slowly pulling the embedded 
M3 dick up toward the soldiers flattened stomach in the process. At 
the same time, Klein began alternately flexing each captivating pec 
massaging Oscar's sliding cock within his muscular cleavage.

The movements shifted to a faster and faster pace until the two men 
were engaged in a mind-numbing erotically charged rhythm. Oscar 
bellowed with the groan of passion as his cock launched the first 
volley of is astonishing load of cum. The forceful jets of white 
cream gushed out from the lined crevasses of the various striations 
covering Klein's undulating pecs. The power of Oscar's muscle-buried 
ejaculations made it look like Klein's pecs were spewing hot cum from 
deep within like a great geyser.

Klein screamed as his own ass-imprisoned cock filled Oscar's flailing 
ass-hole with rewarding man-juices. The two rocked together until 
both were sure that every drop of cream had been forced from their 
pounding dicks. Oscar collapsed onto the heaving chest of his M3 man 
and both lay together for a few moments until the heavy breathing of 
their successful passionate releases subsided.

The sets of men exchanged positions. The smell of Oscar's and Klein's 
cum wafted like an aphrodisiac in the air surrounding the newly 
positioned partners, This time it was the smaller form of Roger that 
spread himself across the bench. His 21" cock rose like a vast 
curving skyscraper above his small tight figure.

Wells placed a pair of benches on either side of the one upon which 
Roger laid in waiting and then hoisted his imposingly muscled form up 
to stand straddling Roger with the entrance to his superbly muscled 
ass barely an inch above Roger's tremendous length of manhood. Oscar 
had the pleasure of polishing the endless length of the frighteningly 
long and hard cock with silky lubrication. In spite of his recent 
release, Oscar's cock began to rise to renewed readiness as he 
fondled Roger's astounding member.

Wells was much more cautious than Oscar had been. While the genetic 
programming made it possible for him to consume all of Roger's dick 
and, allegedly, then some, it was never quiet possible for him to 
accept that over a foot and a half of man-meat could find its way 
safely into the core of his insides.

The warmth of Roger's hotly aroused cock head was always a welcome 
feeling as it tickled its way through the ring of Wells imposing 
sphincter muscle. His ass cheeks sheered into visions of layered rock 
as they flexed to suck in more and more of the fabulous cock shaft. 
Six inches slowly vanished within. The next half-foot was consumed 
more rapidly. At that point Wells intestines signaled their need to 
shift in order for the next length of rigid cock to enter.

Wells knees folded past the right angle point of a full squat with 
only 3" of Roger's cock left to be internalized. The feeling for 
Wells was as wonderful this time as it was every time. His own cock 
waved with passionately derived joy at the sensations coursing 
through his immensely muscled body. Massive pecs, arms, legs, lats 
and calf muscles crystallized into perfect human rock as Wells soaked 
in the feelings … and the last 3" of Roger's cock.

Half of the embedded dick slid back into view as Wells forced his 420 
pounds of writhing musculature upward. Then the sinfully wondrous 
shaft disappeared again - this time more quickly and recklessly. By 
the fourth repetition, the two men had synchronized their actions 
and, thereby, maximized their mutual pleasuring. Wells moaned as his 
sausaged intestinal lining reacted to the erotically charged 
stimulation. Roger received no less feeling of sexual gratification.

The muscle charged contortions undulating uncontrollably through 
Wells brilliantly honed body signaled the intention of his beating 
cock and grumbling balls to release their heavy man juices. A long 
streaming line of arcing white was drawn momentarily in the air as 
the warming flood of Wells cum flowed down onto Roger's cheeks and 
reaching tongue. A second volley of cum leaked along the smooth curve 
of Roger's neck and puddled onto the vinyl covering of the bench. The 
third eruption fell heavily onto his rib-lined chest cavity.

Wells clenched his ass cheeks with muscle defining stiffness as each 
surge of cum flowed through the core of his cock shaft to the 
escaping opening. The actions sent surges of grasping power into 
Roger's internalized cock and triggered his own orgasmic reaction. 
Wells could feel the flow of thick cum surging through the endless 
length of Roger's trunk-like organ. The volume of cum dispelled into 
Roger matched the scale of his cock.

Over a cup of hot white cream was forcefully ejected several inches 
deeper into Wells gut. As with Mark and the Major, had this been an 
ejaculation of cum that had been protein enriched by that of Ryan One 
or his brothers, then it would have proven to have been a terrible 
waste of a precious commodity because of Wells earlier ejaculation. 
The muscle growth benefits would have been all but lost within Wells 
now-drained testicles.

But none of that mattered this time and all four, now fully 
satisfied, moved into the adjacent shower room and playfully cleaned 
up from their memorable sexual encounter. Then the foursome split up 
to prepare to depart. Wells went back to pack for Roger and himself 
while Klein did likewise for himself and Oscar. Roger was scheduled 
to receive his last infusion of processed Ryan brother cum and took 
the bag of documents and the precious canisters with him so that he 
could review it for all of them before departure time. Oscar 
volunteered to stay behind and clean up the gym from their previous 
sexual escapade but assured them he would be at the airport in plenty 
of time. 

Once they were all together at the airport, they found that their 
tickets were waiting for them under false names and they had no 
trouble getting past security with the passports and papers that had 
been prepared for them by the Major.

Twelve hours later they found themselves heading for an apartment in 
the heart of the `la Boca' district of Buenos Aires that had been 
rented for them. Once settled, they sent Roger out to pick up some 
groceries and an American paper while the other three unpacked.

About an hour later Roger came rushing in out of breath. He flipped 
the paper open to the second page. Nothing of what they read made 
sense!

There were their pictures under the bold caption" `Four Sought in the 
Killing of Twin CIA Operatives". According to the article, they had 
not only broken into the CIA lab, but had stolen valuable, and 
dangerous chemicals. In the process, the paper said they had killed a 
pair of twin undercover CIA scientists.

That would have been a great cover, except that the paper showed the 
picture of the two, obviously dead `officials' - and they were Ryan's 
brothers! Now this small band was, indeed, a collection of fugitives -
and alleged to be dangerous killers no less!