Sgt. Powers, and he was a ornery sort. He was an eyebrow captain, all eyebrows and lower jaw, weary-looking, kinda ruddy and staying angry! He be strict as a nun.
Sergeant Powers was so big he had to send away for Army boots and pants that fit him. He stooped to get into the barracks. The sweat-stained green t-shirt he wore bulged against his muscles like it was too small for him. His middle-aged body was craggy and weathered but packed with powerful muscles. Sergeant Powers was sometimes called — not to his face — Sergeant Sodomy, because he was rumored to ramrod soldiers under his command
It helped, of course, that Sergeant Powers was a big burly bear of a man, with muscles and a square jaw and so much swagger that Moshe nearly came in his pants the first time he had spied Powers lifting weights shirtless in his backyard. Sergeant Powers was a bit older, with a few tinges of gray in his crewcut, and while he still had the body of a Marine, it showed notable wear and tear.
Powers was burly and middle-aged and a bit jowly but with a body to die for, great strapping muscles and thick thighs. This morning he wore a tight tee shirt, Army-green, soaked with sweat until it was nearly translucent. Avery could see the hair coating his chest through the shirt. And oh god those shorts made Avery’s dick hard. They were ridiculous — the kind of short-shorts that the Army made soldiers wear back in the 50s, when that was normal. They would have made Daisy Duke blush. They showed off Sergeant Powers’s thick thighs and tightly accentuated the pouch of his jockstrap stretching the fabric of the shorts, which pulled them low enough that one of the straps was visible running above his plump old-man ass.
