Kris Evans





Camo Hat   •   Chapter Eight

by Sean Reid Scott  This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.




Posted: in the before time ::  Approx. 4,200 words





IMUST HAVE HELD HIS COCK FOR FIVE minutes while he orgasmed. At first I tried to cup my left hand over his head to contain the semen, but that was a lost cause. It just overflowed and his essence spilled out onto his shirt. So I abandoned that idea and allowed my palm to empty his jizz onto his shirt and my couch without regard to the mess it made.

As a consequence of allowing his ejaculations to go unchecked, he threw out rope after rope of semen, up onto his chest (making even more dark spots appear on the shirt) onto his face, and ultimately, over his head onto the arm of the couch and onto my rug.

Is this guy ever going to stop?

He never woke up. He did look quite content when he was done.

As for the resultant mess, it was overwhelming. I’d never seen so much cum in all my life. Shit, this guy was above the curve in EVERY way. He really put out!

Despite feelings of panic, I found a sense of calm. I realized there was no way I could clean it all up and hide the obvious from him. I simply pulled the elastic band from under his balls and tried to tuck as much of his cock inside (a fruitless attempt). I stood up and went into my room and changed out of my wet shorts and slipped into bed.

• • • • •

“What the...”

I could hear Cam stirring in the living room as I awoke. He wasn’t totally coherent, and I could tell he was suffering from a serious hangover.

“Holy Shi...” I heard him mumble. “Fuck, that must have been SOME wet dream...”

I crawled out from my covers and headed for the living room. Cam was picking at the crusty mess his semen had hardened into.

He looked up at me, his eyes red. “Shit, man. What the hell happened last night?” He dropped his head back realizing the pain that talking out loud caused. With his eyes closed, he mumbled, “Everyone, please remain quiet.”

I chuckled, but I tried to keep my voice down. “Fuck, man,” I said softly, “You had some time on the couch, dude. I swear I could hear you from clear back in the bedroom all night. Sounded like you had Maya out here with you... But,” I paused and looked at his semen mess, “apparently you didn’t.”

“Oh dude,” he said, head still tipped back, eyes still closed. “No talking. Just get me something to drink.”

“Want some aspirin?”

“No. Just water.”

I obeyed. (I always obey.) ;)

The day was pretty wasted for Cam. His hangover pretty much lasted into the evening. He ended up sleeping a lot. By six o’clock he drove home and, from what he told me later, went straight to bed.

• • • • •

Cam and Maya sat across from me at the outdoor table. He had finally introduced me to her a week or so ago. She seemed nice enough, but she also didn’t feel obligated to foster a close relationship with me. Which was fine with me anyway. Cam still had quite a few complaints about Maya, and he felt free to relate those to me on occasion. But he always made up with her, and they were starting to become an “item.”

The hot summer evening was starting to turn to twilight as we finished our meals. The restaurant terrace was full of diners. Since Maya worked at Red Robin, she didn’t really fancy spending her free time there, so the three of us had decided on a restaurant/cafe downtown. It was nice, and I was feeling fine, having imbibed on a few beers. Maya seemed to be feeling no pain as well. Cameron had decided to limit his drinking during the past few weeks, undoubtedly due in part to his explosive episode at my house that night, and the resulting hangover the following day.

The meal had been interrupted only once by someone who just couldn’t keep their amazement at Cam’s body to himself-- a low number for a dinnertime in a very public place like this. But the guy was pretty ballsy, going so far as to ask Cam to flex his arm. Cameron never seems to either let this kind of stuff go to his head, nor does he let the interruptions bother him. He’s always gracious, seemingly humble and grateful for the compliments, willing to offer advice (which he knows most guys will never take-- they usually want the results without the effort) and he generally tries to give only a very minimal amount of statistics out when guys pressed him for numbers (“How much can you bench, man?”). And of course, the numbers he gives out are never quite accurate. No one would believe him if he told the truth.

This guy was bug-eyed at Cam, though, and Cam politely bent his arm and flexed it when asked. His admirer hadn’t seemed ready for the resultant cannonball of muscle that rippled in front of his face. I thought he would faint right there.

After the guy left the table, and we started to wrap up the main course, I noticed three guys sitting at a table on the other side of us. They were big guys-- obviously no strangers to a gym. Either one of them would have been good subject matter for one of my jack-off sessions, but of course they didn’t measure up to Cam’s freaky standard. The guys had taken in the encounter that Cam had had with the admirer, and they seemed to be talking among themselves about it. I got the distinct idea that they weren’t impressed by the guy’s fawning all over Cameron.

We continued our meal, indulging in some pretty good ice cream concoctions for dessert. Cam didn’t seemed too worried about what it might do to his figure. Oh to have a superhuman metabolism...

When we got up to leave, Cam’s physique drew new stares and gasps, as usual. The three guys also seemed to admire the unbelievable size and definition, but their awe quickly turned to disdain. “Roid guys. They’re big, but it’s all show,” the guy in the green polo shirt said, loud enough for us to hear.

Cam ignored it, and putting his arm around Maya’s waist, he led us away from the guys and down the sidewalk.

“And, they’re cowards, too,” one of the guys said in a louder voice.

Cam just kept walking.

We decided to stroll through the downtown area. The summer evening brought out a lot of people, and there were musicians, art displays and food vendors all over the place. It was a nice evening to be out.

But, it was also getting dark so we decided to head back to Cam’s FJ Cruiser. Unfortunately, those three guys had kept their eyes on us, and they approached us as we headed down a quiet street toward the car. They had obviously enjoyed the libations at the restaurant. “Hey roid guy, let’s see just how strong those big muscles of yours are,” green shirt said. I expected some kind of verbal confrontation to ensue, but Cameron didn’t say anything as he pushed by them.

Unfortunately, the guys weren’t really interested in verbal confrontation either, they wanted to get a little more physical. “We’re taking you down, roid guy,” the guy in the blue T-shirt said. “Are you as rich as you are big?” At that, two of them grabbed each of Cam’s arms and the third guy made a move for Cam’s wallet.

The time for ignoring inappropriate behavior was over. Cam kicked the green shirt guy in the nuts, forcing the guy to release his huge arm and fall to the ground in pain. With simple brute strength, Cam whipped his other arm up (still being held by both hands of the blue shirt guy) and knocked the back side of his fist into blue shirt’s face. That guy also doubled over in pain.

Seeing what has happening, the third guy (who was the biggest) stuffed Cam’s wallet into his pocket and quickly wrapped his hands under Cam’s arms, up around his neck and established what looked like a very secure full-nelson. “Yeah, roid-head,” he yelled, ratcheting his grip on Cam’s body, “let’s see you get out of this one.”

I lunged at the guy, but before I could get to him, I was stopped by both green and blue shirts who now employed their tactic of each one grabbing one arm of their opponent, as they had tried on Cameron. They were much more successful with this maneuver on me.

Maya just stood there, helplessly. She wasn’t a threat, so none of the guys made any attempt to restrain her, although my two thugs did keep an eye on her.

The third guy, on Cam’s back, kept gripping and re-gripping his full-nelson. Cam winced in obvious discomfort; but it almost looked comical. I mean, Cam was huge, and although this guy holding him was indeed a force to be reckoned with, there was no question that the reckoning could easily be done, especially when I knew that Cameron’s strength was truly inestimable.

Cam’s big arms, being forced outward by the thug’s hold, began to move downward. I could see Cam’s traps begin to bulge, and it actually looked like he was merely assuming a “most muscular” pose in order to get out of the full-nelson.

And it was successful.

The guy wailed as he tried to maintain the hold, but Cam’s huge muscles were definitely not merely for show. The guy’s eyes grew big as he realized that Cam was simply muscling his way out of the hold. The guy staggered backward as Cameron’s bulging muscles forced him to let go. Cam quickly turned around and hoisted the guy into the air, wrapping his arms around the guy’s torso and squeezing the air out of him. I’m not sure, but I think I heard a rib crack. The guy, facing Cam, but being held off the ground by probably a foot or so, writhed in pain.

Cam squeezed harder.

“I could push the air completely out of your lungs, dude,” Cam growled. “You still think I’m all show?”

The two guys who held me back let go and jumped onto Cam, forcing the muscleman to struggle to maintain his footing. Cam released the guy, who was no longer a threat anyway, and the man dropped to the ground in agony, barely able to breathe. Yeah, I think that was a rib cracking that I had heard. Cam turned toward blue and literally picked him up and threw him over the hood of his Cruiser. He fell to the ground of the other side without even touching the rig. The guy in the green polo shirt, seeing the obvious, turned and ran.

“He’s got your wallet,” I said to Cam, pointing to the big guy on the ground.

“Thanks, Matt,” Cam said, bending down to retrieve it out of the guy’s pants. “You okay?” he said to me.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Cam moved to Maya. “They didn’t touch me,” she said. He hugged her, and at that moment she broke down in tears.

The scene of Cameron exerting his strength against three guys, and then his mammoth body cupping the diminutive Maya as he comforted her, did quite a bit to engage my cock in a steady thickening and lengthening process. Yeah, I realized that I had gotten very hard.

I moved over to them and put my arm on Maya’s shoulder to lend my support as well. She acknowledge me between sobs. Then, Cam reached around my shoulder and gave me a squeeze as well. “It’s okay Maya,” he comforted.

The evening seemed ruined. That kind of encounter goes deep to the psyche, and casts a pall for quite a while. Maya was clearly shaken. I was shaken. Cam, on the other hand, didn’t seemed fazed by the confrontation, although he did become much more comforting to Maya. He decided to drop me off at my place and then take Maya back to her apartment where he would probably spend the night.

I slipped into the darkness of my townhouse and turned on a hot shower to help calm my nerves. As I soaped myself, I wondered that those three thugs were doing now. We hadn’t called the police; Cam didn’t want to stick around and engage the situation any longer than necessary. I imagined that the two guys had carted the bigger guy off to an emergency room; maybe the guy who was thrown over Cam’s Cruiser had broken an arm or something as well. I don’t know.

The whole scene, while emotionally taxing, did serve to get me very hard, and I relived the experience of my hyper-muscular friend schooling those three dudes with ease-- it was a great j/o session in the shower, that’s for sure.

• • • • •

Evan pressed his last rep out slowly. He was definitely going to fail on this one. As the bar came to a stop, I bent over and brought my palms under it. Evan’s face was scrunched in hard effort. He hissed, and I assisted him in his bench press. My crotch was directly above his face. I made him work for the last few inches, refusing to do all the work for him. We both lifted the bar all the way up, then moved it laterally to rack it with a loud clank. “Good job, man,” I encouraged.

“Yeah!” Evan said, sitting up quickly. “That was a great set.” His pecs were pumped, and he looked really good. He stood up and we both moved to take off some of the weight so I could do my next set.

In a corner of the gym a guy caught my eye: big, but not so big that he’d attract attention, he looked strangely familiar. I didn’t think much of it until I was about four reps into my set; then it hit me. That guy was one of the three thugs who had attacked Cam a few weeks ago! And he’s at my gym!

I couldn’t finish the set. I racked the bar. “What the fuck, dude?” Evan protested. “You wussing out on me?”

I sat up. “Sorry, man. I just lost my concentration.” I looked over to find the guy, and he was still there. He was facing my direction, but not looking at me. Yeah, it was him. It was the guy in the green polo shirt-- the one who had cut and run after it was obvious that Cam wasn’t going down. I vacillated between smugness over his humiliation at the hand of my best friend, and anger/fear over encountering him again.

“What’s up, dude?” Evan asked.

“Oh, nothing,” I said. “Uh, I think I’m going to hang it up for today.”

“What? Why? We just got started. We still have another chest exercise to do, and then triceps, man.”

I stood up and turned away from the bad guy, facing Evan. “Uh-- well, I think that guy over there is one of the guys who jumped Cam a few weeks ago.” I nodded my head in the guy’s direction. Evan looked over at him.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

Evan settled down. I had told him everything about the encounter that night, so he knew what I was talking about. “So, what are you going to do? Call the cops?”

“Naw. Cam said he didn’t want to mess with it anymore,” I said.

Evan got pensive. “So, you just going to hide every time you see this guy? You can’t do that.”

“I know, man. I just need time to think. He caught me off guard. I need to kind of regroup my thoughts.”

Evan was a total jock, but he understood how I thought. I wasn’t out to him, and yet I looked at him as a really good friend. “Okay, man. It’s okay. I’m going to stick around and finish my workout, though, ‘kay?” he said.

“Sure, man. Thanks for understanding.” I headed for the locker and grabbed my stuff. I hadn’t worked up a sweat yet, so I skipped the shower.

• • • • •

“Hey man, it’s me.” Evan said as I answered my iPhone.

“Yeah dude. What up?” I replied.

“Well, you know that dude you saw at the gym a few hours ago? He hardly worked out at all. Mostly just stood around and tried to pick up chicks.”


“Yeah, and he wasn’t very good at it,” Evan laughed. “He left about a half hour after you did.”

“Too funny,” I said. “Very interesting.”

“Yeah, he didn’t seem like much of a threat, to me.”

“Good. But he sure was an asshole that night.”

“Yeah. Hey-- you doing anything tonight?” Evan asked.

“Naw. Just hanging and maybe watching some TV.” I didn’t want to tell him what I really had planned: Surfing and jacking.

“Okay, man. I’ll be over at about six o’clock with some steaks. Get the barbecue fired up.”

I loved Evan-- how he liked me enough to just invite himself over to spend time with me. Other guys might get irritated at that, but Evan was a really cool guy, and I never refused the opportunity to spend time with him. He has a really good personality and a killer smile. And of course, his young, college-age muscles never hurt either. “Sounds great, man. Come on over.”

An hour later, Evan was walking into my kitchen and plopping down a bag of steaks. I threw them on the barbecue and handed Evan a Coors Light. “Cam’s stopping over a little later,” I said. “He called and wants to hang tonight, too.”

“Cool,” Evan said. He didn’t seem uncomfortable, but there was a funny mix of intrigue and apprehension in his expression. He had met Cameron only once since the muscle hunk and I had become close friends, and I could tell that he was enthralled with him-- but of course he would never admit anything more than just admiration and respect. Nevertheless, I loved to watch how Cameron affected Evan. “I guess I should have brought more steaks, though,” he continued.

“No worries,” I said. “Cam’s bringing some too, and some salmon. We’ll be all set.”

Evan’s face relaxed, even lit up a bit. “Awesome. Sounds like a good night.” He opened a second beer and settled into the couch.

When Cam arrived, Evan was in the bathroom. When Evan came out, Cam and I were on the patio tending to the meat on the grill. Evan slid open the patio door and stepped outside. I looked up and watched his expression as he saw Cam, standing there in a tank top. I wasn’t disappointed. Evan tried to hide his awe, but I could tell...

Cam turned around and shook hands with Evan. “Good to see you again, man.” He smiled and Evan reciprocated, although tentatively.

“Shit, man,” Evan couldn’t help himself, “you’re bigger than I remember you. Fuck, you’re massive-- and ripped!”

“Guilty as charged,” Cam smiled as they released the handshake. He turned back to the grill and changed the subject. “These things look almost ready,” he said. “And I think you can take the corn off now, too.”

I grabbed the prongs and lifted the foil-wrapped corn cobs off the grill. Cam cut into one of the steaks with a knife, to see if it was cooked all the way through. “Yeah, these look good to me.” Shit, his arms just rippled with his virility. He was so big and powerful. I could definitely see why Evan was blown away.

I took the steaks off and put them on a big plate. I looked up and Evan, and his eyes were practically locked on Cam. He saw that I had caught him looking, and quickly averted his gaze.

“So, I hear you handled that little confrontation the other night with ease,” Evan said to Cam.

“Yeah, those were some pretty drunk guys,” Cam said, not looking up from the steaks. “They were more like the Three Stooges than anything.” He looked up and turned to Evan and said, “I let ‘em know who’s boss, dude.” His grin seemed to have the same effect on Evan that it did on me.

Evan looked like he was going to pee his pants. His eyes were big, and he was totally enthralled with Cam’s strength. “Yeah, I bet you did.” I swear he slobbered while he talked to the muscle man.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s dig in.” I pulled out a chair from the patio table and Cam and Evan did likewise. The evening was beautiful, and the sun hung low as we ate and drank the night away. More than once Even made reference to Cam’s muscular body, and Cam politely engaged the topic, but didn’t dwell on it. He treated Evan just like he treats me-- asking questions, genuinely interested in him, joking, and seriously respecting his opinions. It was fun to see the two of them get to know each other. One thing they liked to talk about was women-- it was something that they both held in common-- their love for a beautiful female. I tried to join in occasionally, just so Evan wouldn’t get the idea that I was gay or anything. (I didn’t care what Cam thought, because I already knew that he knew all about me and accepted me just as I was.)

It was funny, though. No matter how descriptive or intimate their conversation about women got, Evan really seemed to develop what I can only describe as a man-crush on Cam. How well I know what that’s like; but seeing Evan succumb to it-- it was actually pretty exciting to me. Cam never let on that he thought anything about Evan’s obvious interest in him. And further, he continually turned to me and talked to me, as if to allay any fears that I might have a need to get jealous. Shit, I love that guy.

Well Evan stayed until Cameron left. No surprise there. As soon as the giant was gone, and Evan and I were alone, Evan fell all over himself in praise and admiration for Cam. “Shit, man, that is one cool dude,” he said.

“Yeah, he is,” I agreed. “Just the best friend you could ever have.”

“Yeah, man. And fuck, he’s just so huge! I mean, I hadn’t remembered that he was that big when I saw him at the bench pressing show, and then when I met him last time.”

“Yeah, it’s hard to hold his image accurately in your mind,” I said. “I swear, every time I see him I say the same thing too: I don’t remember him being that big!” I laughed.

“And ripped,” Evan added. “Fuck, his forearms looked like spaghetti!”

I smiled and nodded my head.

“Does he ever get tired of people saying things about his body? I mean, I hope I didn’t bother him. But I just couldn’t get over how muscular he was.”

“Naw,” I encouraged. “He’s used to it. Guys are always coming up to him. He never seems to be bothered by it. Just a totally cool dude about it.”

“Good. I hope I didn’t embarrass myself. But, shit, I was totally blown away...” He seemed to suddenly become aware of how he was swooning over Cam, and he tried to pull himself back. He shuffled his feet on the floor, stuck his hands into his pockets and pushed downward, flexing his big arms-- his triceps rippling with youthful virility. He looked a little embarrassed.

“Hey, man,” I said. “Thanks for bringing over the steaks. They were great.”

“Sure, man. Thanks for letting me invite myself over!” he laughed.

“Any time, dude. If it’s ever a problem, I’ll promptly UN-invite you.”

Evan made his way to the door, and I was totally aware of him trying to recompose himself back into the hunky jock he truly was. Fuck, it was cool to watch him fall apart like that. He had a look of a lost kid, or something-- like he wanted me to assure him that Cam liked him. I couldn’t really pin it down, but I certainly identified with him.







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