I came as soon as the wooden bat in his hands snapped loudly into two pieces. Clearly, it had taken little effort for him to destroy the thing. He smiled as ropes of cum shot out of my hard cock across my abs and chest as I lay on the bed watching him. Ten minutes earlier I had already released a big load seeing him rip apart a heavy thick chain – pulling the middle steel link apart as his chest popped huge and hard. My body actually ached from the intensity of the orgasms. These feats of strength had actually been child’s play for him.
“You’re my little cum factory,” he said as he jumped on the bed and smothered my convulsing body with his huge muscled torso.
His thick manly mustache tickled my upper lip as he smashed his mouth into mine. It was more of an assault than a kiss. I was still ejaculating, but his hard body pinned me to the bed as if a huge boulder had been placed on top of me. His hands groped me strongly, making my orgasm last a lot longer than usual. He grinded his hard cock against my body – his Calvin’s doing very little to hide his raging hard-on. It almost felt like a tank was rolling over me, but the pleasure was too intense for me to not like it. His voice even prolonged my spurting.
“Yeah, bust another big nut for this old man,” he whispered deeply as he gazed into my eyes. “Wait ‘til I crush those billiard balls in each hand. You’re going to pop again as soon as you see and hear them pop. Let me hear you say something again.”
“Can I get you some coffee, Mr. Samuelson?” I said softly – still gasping for air from my orgasm.
“Oh fuck yeah, you’re such a good little assistant,” the big man said as he shoved his crotch into me even harder. “That first day you bent over to get something out of the bottom drawer of your desk and I got so hard I almost ripped the crotch out of my dress pants. Say something else.”
“I finished all those letters for you, sir, and I’ve done all the filing, Is there anything else before I go?” I replied.
“Oh hell yeah. I’m going to cum!” he yelled.
That was the only warning I got. By now, he was grinding his cock against me like some kind of wild animal. He started spewing hard and his face got dark red from the exertion. Thick veins popped out all over his body from the strain of the orgasm. He let out an intense deep scream-growl and squeezed the hell out of my much smaller body. He never stopped staring into my eyes, though. It was like my gaze gave him even more pleasure. When his explosion finally stopped, he nuzzled the dense fur above his upper lip in the crook of my neck and I purred like a kitten. The weight of his big body was so comforting.
“One day, I want to fuck you on my desk,” he whispered as he continued to make my toes curl with his mustache. Seeing that hot ass of yours sticking up in the air as you’re bent over the edge will send me through the roof!”
Hearing Mr. Samuelson talk this way made my dick stay super hard. This was the gentle, mild-mannered, generous owner of the company I worked for. I had been his personal assistant for two years. He had never raised his voice, never cussed, and never ever let on that he had the hots for me. He had only ever been a gentleman. I, meanwhile, had crushed on the huge older man every single second since I had been offered the job. During my interview I had almost spewed when he raised his hand to push his finger and thumb along his thick mustache as he looked over my resume. His arm had ballooned out under his dress shirt and I could tell he had one of the hottest muscle daddy bodies I’d ever seen hiding beneath his clothes. The day I had walked into his office to find him bending horseshoes into globs of metal had been the start of our journey to getting together. He had told me it was a great way for him to relieve stress, but I also knew he had noticed how my crotch had swelled as soon as I watched his hands twist metal as if it were nothing.
“I’ve got a lot of power,” he had said casually.
“I can see that,” had been my simple reply.
A month later had been the company picnic and Mr. Samuelson had worn a tight fitting polo shirt. It had been the first time I had seen all of his big muscle daddy bulges highlighted in a glorious way. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him the entire day. He, of course, noticed me staring at him like some kind of school kid with a crush. Late in the afternoon he had asked how I had come to the picnic. I told him I had ridden with one of the other employees. He asked he could give me a lift home and I jumped at the chance, telling my co-worker to go on without me. As soon as we had gotten into his Porsche his big hand had come over to my thigh and as he squeezed it hard enough to make me wince he asked if I got off on strength. Straight to the point – there was no beating around the bush or even testing the waters. My mouth had dropped open wide and all I could do was shake my head yes. He had then asked if I was interested in coming over to see him lift. I’m sure the anticipatory drool that had dribbled down my chin was all the answer he needed.
The next thing I knew we were in his home gym and he was benching some mind blowing weight as I looked on – wanting to whip out my cock and beat off, but letting my manners lead me instead of my dick, for once. He had taken off his shirt for the second round of repetitions and then ordered me to sit on his stomach and play with his chest as he lifted the bar for many more sets. I had been overwhelmed by the situation and talked complete gibberish the entire time.
“You’re so big, Mr. Samuelson,” I said.
“God, it makes me hard when you call me that,” he said, and the steel like thing lying between my ass cheeks proved it was true. “There’s something about a cute guy giving me older man respect that makes my juices boil like you would not believe.”
“Can I get you anything, Mr. Samuelson?” I asked as I latched onto his hard nipples and twisted tightly.
“Oh fuuuuuccckkkk,” he offered back.
“May I bring you a coffee, sir, with some of my cream in it?” I teased and twisted harder.
“Lay across my hands, kid. I’d rather be benching you,” he said as he placed the heavy bar back in its holder.
I was standing up in a flash. I let my body fall against his waiting palms – one giant hand against my chest and the other against my throbbing crotch. I kept my body stiff as he began to press me up and down. It was the most erotic moment of my entire life up to that point. I looked down into his calm happy face and that had been the first time I had ever noticed his intense stare – as if he were reading my mind or, better yet, my soul.
“Keep talking, babe,” he said as he effortlessly cranked out reps with my body.
“You’re so big and strong, Mr. Samuelson. You make me feel so protected and safe,” I answered, knowing it would thrill him to no end.
“Sweet fuck, that’s going to make me squirt!” he bellowed and continued to lift my body up and down as his cock emptied a thick load into his pants – causing me to come on the spot, as well.
That was the day we learned about each other’s fetishes. I loved strength and he got off on respect. It was also the first day he pried my ass cheeks apart with his thick cock – plowing me multiple times like an expert. I fell asleep that night in his bulging strong arms mumbling ‘Mr. Samuelson’ over and over – thrilling him in a way that even my ass couldn’t please.
Fast forward to five months later to when I practically lived at his place and every night he would offer me some feat of strength in return for me doing a little role play scenario where I would be respectful and subservient to his manliness. On this particular night, prior to his snapping the bat in two and ripping apart the chain, I had played the part of a respectful and very attentive waiter serving him a meal. I had left him a note on the front door telling him to go straight to the dining room and strip to his underwear before sitting down. When I had come out in only an apron to take his order, he almost creamed in his briefs as soon as I said, “Mr. Samuelson, it is so good to see you. It will be my pleasure to serve you tonight, sir. Do not hesitate to ask me for anything.” He had immediately ordered me to turn around so he could lower his face and plow it into my bare ass, practically lifting me off the floor with just his nose. Meanwhile, his big hand had pumped up and down on my cock until it made the apron stick out pornographically. I took his order for dinner with so much daddy respect I feared the guy might shoot his load at any second.
“Would the gentleman like some oysters this evening, sir? I hear they are an excellent aphrodisiac,” I teased, “Although I don’t think the big gentleman needs any help in the area of his sex drive.”
“Oh, the idea of something wet and gooey sliding down my throat sounds good, boy,” he teased back.
“Would the kind sir please allow this waiter the chance to grope that big chest?” I asked, looking lustfully into his eyes.
“Grope away, young man. Grope away,” he answered, sucking in a deep breath to make his pecs swell up even more.
At the same time, the magnificent Mr. Samuelson pushed his chair back and patted his thick thighs. I straddled his legs and sat down – feeling his thick log against my bare ass. I immediately started kneading his monstrous pecs with my hands as he stared into my eyes with a burning passion that was almost too much to handle. He didn’t move at all. He simply let me get my fill of his marvelous fur-covered chest.
“Would the big kind gentleman like a kiss?” I asked – making him smile and I loved how that made his mustache seem even thicker.
“Yes he would,” came the reply.
I leaned forward and let the bristles of the dense mustache tease my lips – brushing against them. I then pressed in hard and kissed Mr. Samuelson properly. I felt the log beneath my ass hardening. After a good five minutes, I pulled my head away and then climbed off the handsome daddy.
“Would the gentleman prefer red or white wine, tonight?” I asked, taking on my role once again.
“I think I’d like something full and hearty,” he answered.
“Red it is. Thank you, sir,” I replied and he moaned a little at my response.
For the next hour I served him and made him feel like a king. We would have to take breaks every now and then to allow one of us to grope different parts of the other – him preferring my ass and me preferring his chest, arms, or mustache. When the meal was over I sat in his lap again and spoon-fed both of us a bowl full of mango sorbet. We licked the spoon together – him staring at me lovingly the entire time.
“Forget about the dishes for now, son. This daddy needs to show off for you. I’m aiming to make you shoot a total of four times tonight,” he said, taking me into his arms, standing up, and then easily carrying me into the bedroom.
Before he started his destruction of the bat, chain, and billiard balls I asked if I could snap a picture of him in his briefs, saying he looked even more masculine than usual this evening. He obliged by standing in the corner and looking off into the distance. I snapped a few shots. The show began shortly after that and, as usual, I was thrilled beyond my wildest dreams. He had been wrong about one thing, however. That night I ended up shooting six big loads before falling asleep in his powerful arms.