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Old Man Stevens - Part Twenty



(Forgive me, I decided to give myself a Christmas present and continue with one of my favorite characters.  Merry Christmas, everyone).


“Excuse me sir,” Harry said, making us turn to him.  “I’ve got some empty kegs in the back that might help you give another fun show for the fellas and me.”


“Hot damn, Harry! Empty kegs sounds like a lot of fun. I’d love to crush some of those for you.” Bud said with childlike enthusiasm.  “Connor, I believe we have a perfect example of a guy with a big strength fetish – don’t we, Harry?”


“Yes sir,” the bartender responded.


“Well I’m just the man to make those fantasies come true, Harry,” Bud said.


“You already have,” Harry answered.


“Did you ever dream of being super strong, Harry?” Bud asked.


“All the time, sir. All the time,” Harry answered and you could tell it was the most honest answer he’d ever given.  


“Well, let’s make that fantasy come partially true, Harry.  Where are those empty kegs?” Bud asked.


“Right back here,” Harry said, pointing to a room off to the left of the bar.  


Bud went to the room and came back a few seconds later carrying ten drained kegs – five held by each hand.  He carried them easily with fingers in the handles and set them on the bar.  Of course, the group of onlookers had already gathered to see what Bud would do next.  In an attempt to build the momentum of the show, Bud quickly juggled three kegs for about a minute.  When he finished he took one of the kegs and turned toward the bartender.


“When you do feats of strength, Harry – whether it’s squeezing a man’s hand or demolishing something, you always start out by making it seem like you won’t be able to do whatever you’re attempting,” Bud explained.  “You want to surprise the object or the man you’re working with. Let the guy think he’s going to grip you harder and then slowly squeeze until his eyes pop out because he realizes you’re just starting to exert pressure, while he’s been using his full force for a while.  In the same way, we’re going to let the keg think it can withstand your power – and, in turn, the intended audience is slightly disappointed.  It’s not until the screeching sound of metal booms loudly that everyone figures out you’ve been leading them on.  Come stand in front of me, man.  We’re going to take on this keg together, so you know what it feels like to be super strong.”  


Harry didn’t hesitate for a second.  He moved in front of the big man, snuggling between the mammoth arms.  At first Harry couldn’t force himself to turn around. He stood there with his nose pointed perfectly between the huge thick bottoms of Bud’s pecs.  The younger stud merely stared at the hard muscle – totally in awe.  Bud finally turned him around by placing a big hand on his head and twisting.  He then nestled his hard body against Harry’s back – to give the kid an extra thrill.  The smaller bartender let out a gasp when he felt the elder man’s huge hard-than-concrete boner pressing against his ass and back.  


“Guess I should have warned you about that hard muscle down there, huh, Harry?” Bud said, laughing. “It’s as big as the rest of me. And just as strong.  Now get snug up against this big man, son.  We’re going to have some fun with this keg. Put your hands on top of mine, we’re going to let you be the driver of this power machine.”


It took a few seconds for the bartender to regain his composure after feeling Bud’s hardened mega-shaft.  Harry was beginning to realize that Bud Stevens had as many surprises as he did muscles.  It was also obvious to me that the younger guy was smitten with my boyfriend – in the same way a puppy loves his owner.  Harry easily gave up control of his tightly muscled body to the much larger super-gramps.  I understood the way he felt and pitied him, a little, since I knew Bud was dedicated solely to me.  However, I also knew the big man would make Harry’s night – not to mention Harry’s life – by pleasing him big time.  As soon as the bartender rested his hands on top of Bud’s huge paws he nestled his ass even more secure against Bud’s balls and huge rod – taking advantage of the situation as much as he could.  


“So, little Harry,” Bud said, loving calling the muscular man ‘little.’  “You’re going to control the action.  When I feel you pressing in I’ll add a little strength to the situation and you’ll get to feel what it’s like to have super strength.  This keg doesn’t even begin to know the damage you’re going to inflict on it.”


Harry didn’t need any other encouragement.  Immediately his face twisted up from effort and he started pressing against the back of Bud’s hands, which were resting on the ends of the empty keg.  Bud was able to see their reflection in the mirror above the bar.  His own hands didn’t budge at all – clearly able to withstand the pressure from the bartender’s grip without any problem.


“No, no, no, man – another rule for guys with super strength.  We don’t scrunch our face up when we do something,” Bud explained. “We keep our face relaxed – as if to say what we’re doing doesn’t take any effort, at all.  This way, we shock onlookers even more.  A calm muscleman doing feats of strength without being tensed is like watching a bird effortlessly fly through the air or a cheetah running at super speeds across the grasslands.  You got to make it look easy.  Yes, you pause at first – to make people think you can’t do the action – but then you reveal your power with a calm body.  It makes the feat you’re doing look even more impressive.  So, relax your face, Harry, and let those big muscles of yours show people what you can do.  Well, with a little help from this huge old man.”


Harry was a quick learner. He un-tensed his body, shook out his arms a little, and then replaced his hands on Bud’s giant hands.  He then smiled and began to squeeze.  Bud could tell the smaller guy was applying some pressure, but it didn’t really register to his powerful hands.  However, my big boyfriend knew just how to please the younger man.  He began to compress his hands, too.  At first, nothing happened, then there was a loud screech and the keg folded in on itself slightly.  Everyone knew the thing could be compresses with a flick of the huge man’s wrists, but watching it be destroyed slowly was what everyone wanted. They also wanted to pretend it was Harry doing the crushing.


“Oh yeah, big Harry, look what you did,” Bud said enthusiastically.  “That poor keg had no choice but to give into your super strength. You’re going to demolish the thing like it was a paper cup.  Look at your bulging arms, dude.  Such power in those guns.  Go ahead, crush the thing some more.”  


Harry smiled a little more and pressed his hands in strongly, causing his pecs to pump out even harder.  There wasn’t a sign of strain on either man’s face – both enjoying the show as much as the gathered audience.  Bud pushed his hands in slowly – allowing the bartender to set the pace.  The keg immediately screamed from the super pressure of the older man’s strength.  Everyone in the room knew that Bud was compressing the keg, but it was fun as hell to imagine that it was Harry.  Harry easily suspended disbelief and accepted that he, himself, was crushing the pathetic metal object in his hands.  For years the bartender had lifted kegs – both full and empty ones – dreaming of what it would be like to mangle one like it was paper, crumpling it in his hands and discarding it casually.  Now, here he was squeezing the big thing in on itself and listening to the metal screech loudly as he made it succumb to his power.  By this point Harry was rock hard – actually harder than he had ever been in his entire life.  He stared at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar and only saw his big arms demolishing the keg.  He was so turned on by his pretend strength that he was almost able to ignore the giant behind him – the enormous grampa what was actually easily performing the feat of strength.


“Aw hell, Harry, listen to solid steel screaming because of your power,” Bud said to egg on the younger man.  “It’s begging you to stop.  It can’t believe a guy could crush it like it was nothing.  Damn dude, look how it buckles to your strength.  And look how huge you are getting!  Squeeze it into nothing but a piece of junk, man.  Make it know that you’re the boss and it’s nothing compared to those bulging arms of yours.  Finish it off, Harry.  Flatten then thing into the size of a pancake.”


Bud’s words made the young bartender’s fantasy complete.  Harry was beginning to even more feel like he was, indeed, crushing the keg.  It was so empowering to be surrounded by so much muscle – there was no way to not be aware of the hardness that encompassed him and pressed from behind – and to be encouraged in the dream of destroying something powerful with your bare hands. Harry felt like a superhero.  He enjoyed the idea that crushing a keg was nothing more than crumpling a tissue for him.  The constant screeching of the metal as it was manipulated into a thin piece of junk was intoxicating.  Harry got a small glimpse of what it was like to be Bud Stevens – to not doubt your abilities at all, to internally know you had absolutely no limits.  The bartender pressed in harder, cluing the senior muscleman into his desire to go faster and compress harder.  Bud obliged and the keg was quickly destroyed, turned into a smashed thin slab of metal.  It looked like a heavy serving tray.  A loud clanking sound came at the end – as Harry and Bud smashed the keg into something unrecognizable.  


“Aw, little man, you turned that big keg into a piece of paper made of metal,” Bud exclaimed proudly. “But you’re not done, Harry. Let’s crumple that thing like it was only paper.  Let’s turn the thing into a wad of steel the size of a tennis ball.”


Harry kept his hands pressed against Bud’s big paws as they reached around the thin sheet of metal that used to be the keg and started crushing it inward like it was a used napkin getting readied for the trashcan.  Soon, the two men had the once large keg squeezed into something that looked like a metal blob – fingerprints imbedded all around it.  Bud held the thing in his open palm – waiting for the younger man to take it.  Harry removed his hands from the back of Bud’s and reached to grab the now terribly deformed keg in one hand – completely forgetting how heavy the thing would be.  He couldn’t lift it from Bud’s palm with one hand.  He had to bring his other one to the small ball of compressed metal and lift with both.  The thing was still pretty warm from its structure being reformed into something unrecognizable.  Harry was confounded by the fact that something so small could weigh so much.  


“Look at you, super strong Harry,” Bud said.  “Demolishing that thing as if it was nothing for you.  Big little-man crushing a giant keg into a little ball.  How’s it feel to be so powerful, man?”


“Fucking incredible, sir!” Harry responded.


The young bartender was still not moving from his warm nestled space up against Bud’s giant body. The heat from the senior muscleman was like some kind of drug – addictive and oh-so-comforting.  Harry continued to hold the warm blob in his hands and marveled at its weight even more. 


“Man, look how it made your biceps pop out, Harry,” Bud said, egging the smaller man on even more. “Let’s see those guns, dude.  Get over to the bar and flex one of them beside Connor’s arm.  Hey Connor, come compare.”


Harry reluctantly tore his body away from Bud’s – but the thought of showing off his big arms was exciting – especially since they were pumped up pretty big.  I also got excited about comparing my small arm to the bartender’s swole gun.  Comparisons between big guys and small guys had always been a big turn on for me. Harry leaned forward, placed his elbow on the bar and flexed hard.  I was impressed with how big the bulge was.  The dude had some killer arms – probably about nineteen inches.  I placed my little man arm beside his and flexed. I was in no way a slouch.  I had a pretty good body and worked out regularly, but I wasn’t interested in being huge.  I liked being with huge men.  My biceps looked pathetic beside the mound of muscle that popped out beside me.  My boyfriend had the biggest muscles around, but it was still nice looking at Harry’s well-formed gun.


 “Look how small you make my boyfriend’s arm look, Harry,” Bud said, knowing full well this kind of talk turned me on – a lot.  “My boy loves it when big men compare their muscles to little guys – especially if he’s the little guy.  I have no idea why he loves big muscles so much.  Maybe it has something to do with his boyfriend.” 


“I’d say that’s right,” Harry responded.


“That’s a very respectable arm, Harry,” Bud said.  “What are you sporting there?  Twenty inches?  Twenty-one?”


“Um . . . no, it’s only nineteen, sir,” Harry answered; clearly afraid he was disappointing the huge older man.


“Dude, that’s fantastic,” Bud said, encouraging the smaller man.  “You’ll hit twenty with no problem.”


“I hope so, sir,” Harry said, flexing his gun beside my even harder – as if he thought he could will it to grow. 


“Ready to see some real meat, fellas?” Bud asked.


“Yes sir!” Harry and I responded together, both of us keeping our arms flexed on the bar.


“Harry, my man,” Bud said, “let’s show you what forty-two inch guns look like.”


The bartender moaned out loud as soon as he heard the elder man say the size of his biceps.  It was still hard for me to fathom their size and I was around them all the time.  The minute old man Stevens flexed his arm on the bar beside ours the entire room went dead silent.  We had all seen his uncovered body all night long – and I’d seen if for a lot longer – but there was just something about seeing the insanely humongous thing beside our own arms that took everyone’s breath away.  The man had become a muscle monster – something that online morphers couldn’t even have imagined.  His arm was super gigantic and shredded at the same time.  Two incredible peaks blasted upward – way beyond comprehension – and dwarfed even Harry’s big guns in a way that made the grown man’s limb look like that of a tiny baby.  Bud had been perfectly right when he said I loved big man-little man comparisons. Seeing large bulging muscles beside smaller ones made me think of power, strength, and sexy cockiness, but nothing could have prepared me for every time I saw Bud Stevens’ muscles next to some other grown man – especially a man that was considered big in all other situations. Bud’s mammoth mound of muscle ballooned out like a giant living boulder in motion.  Harry’s arm screamed of gym strength, while my elder lover’s arm screamed of superhero power beyond reason – the kind of power that could literally move mountains.  


“Look, Harry, your arm looks like a matchbox car beside my semi-truck gun,” Bud teased.  “It looks like a tiny dwarf planet up next to the sun. It looks like a teeny-weeny mouse next to an enormous elephant…”


“We get the point, Bud,” I said, laughing.


“Yeah, but the two of you also get off on me pointing out the obvious, too,” Bud replied, knowing full well that Harry and I were mesmerized by the unbelievable comparison shot in front of us.  “Just can’t help it, dudes, I’m huge.  I have to turn sideways to get in doublewide doors and duck even in archways. Somebody done morphed me something massive!”


“Um . . . fellas, I gotta get off.  I’m in need of some relief,” Harry said, loudly – his voice catching us off guard.


“Whoa there, little man,” Bud said, after we both turned to look at the bartender.  “You’re face is turning purple.  You do need to blast a big one, don’t you?”


“Yes sir,” Harry answered.


“Got any fun ideas on how you’d like to lose your load,” Bud asked.


“I’d like you to flex, sir, and then I’ll do the rest,” Harry responded quickly – making it obvious he had been thinking about this for a while.


“Sure thing, little Harry,” Bud said and then he stood up and threw his arms into that now very familiar double biceps pose.  


The Alps weren’t nearly as majestic as Bud Stevens’ arms.  The monstrous things were a shock to behold every time he flexed.  It was never something I’d take for granted.  I was sure of that.  It was partly because the arms were so humongous that it was mind boggling, but it was also because they belonged to a man that was so nice, so confident, so mature, and so damn naturally cocky.  Bud didn’t come across as arrogant – he just exuded so much sure-ness, so much power that he appeared just naturally aware that the world was his plaything.  Bud didn’t want to be big to be mean – he wanted to be big to show off.  His brain worked on overload to try and figure out new things to make me . . . and other guys . . . happy.  I was falling madly in love with this senior muscleman and I knew he felt the same way about me.  I was now confident beyond my wildest dreams merely because I had this behemoth of a senior man adoring me all the time.  I knew I could ask him to do anything and he’d do it for me.  I’d never take advantage of that, but I did dream about having him destroy big things or mangle them just because I asked him to.  I now knew how Lois Lane felt.  Harry moving up to my giant boyfriend brought me back to the present moment.


When Harry, a genuinely big man, stood in front of Bud he seemed like a child.  The big bartender just didn’t come close to matching the size, the thickness, the height, or the muscled massiveness of the man he faced. I could tell that Harry was astounded to be dwarfed so much by another human being.  It was just something he wasn’t used to.  He tried to look up into Bud’s face, but my elder lover had inhaled as he flexed his arms and his massive freight container sized chest ballooned out in a way that intimidated and thrilled at the same time.  Bud decided to have some fun with that fact.


“Hey, where did little Harry go?  He was here just a minute ago.  Was I just too much for him to handle?  I thought he wanted to have some fun,” Bud said with mock surprise.


He glanced at me with a quizzical face and I pointed down below his inflated blimp-sized pecs.  Bud leaned forward, so his face could see over his own mammoth chest.  He put on a show for the bartender – starting with a startled look.


“Oh, there you are, Harry!” he said, teasingly.  “I didn’t see you.  Something huge was in the way.  It’s a good thing I didn’t move forward and trample you.  So, you had a special way you wanted to bust out a big deserving load?”


Harry took a step back, so he could take in all of the hugeness in front of him.  He shook his head for the hundredth time, clearly, still in disbelief of the elder behemoth he beheld.  The bartender was still trying to figure out how it was possible for a senior citizen to be the size of a house, have the strength of ten superheroes put together, and love to show off as if he were an entire tent of circus performers thrilling all the children in the world.  For that is what Harry felt like next to Bud Stevens – a child. It wasn’t off-putting or negative in any way.  As a matter of fact it was freeing.  Harry found that he could let go and be exactly who he was when he was around Bud. He didn’t need to impress . . . well, he actually couldn’t impress anyone as long as Bud Stevens was nearby. He just got to be the adoring puppy with his master and that felt so comfortable.


“Just keep your arms flexed, sir, and I’ll do the rest,” the bartender said.


“I can keep these stupendous guns flexed as long as you want, little man,” Bud replied.  “You just go ahead and do whatever you want.”


Harry needed no more encouragement than that.  He bent his legs, extended his arms, and jumped.  I clearly saw what he intended to do even before my giant boyfriend did. Harry let his bent fingers rest on the top of Bud’s wide-as-a-table biceps.  Even Harry’s big hands weren’t able to cup the massive peaks of Bud’s arms. My own hands looked like toothpicks when pressed against Bud’s mammoth guns, but Harry’s didn’t look much bigger. After adjusting his body, so his frame was smack-dab even with Bud’s, Harry started to pull his full weight up, slowly and deliberately.  The bartender was doing pull-ups on Bud’s arms, but he was also making sure his body pressed against the stone-like body of the giant as he went up and down. Harry intended to get his rocks off by thrusting his cock and his entire body up and down Bud’s bulging muscles. Bud let out a loud warrior-like yell when he realized what the little bartender intended to do.  My senior muscle boyfriend also tensed his chest, abs, and thighs to give his little friend something even harder to masturbate against.  I had pressed my dick against my bed so many times to get off during my lifetime, that I quickly understood having hard, warm, flesh against your cock – even when it was covered in clothing – would probably induce orgasm in just a few scrapes against all Bud’s bulges.


“Five . . . six,” Bud had started counting the times Harry went up and down. “Seven, I bet you can’t make it to twenty, Harry . . . eight . . . not because you aren’t strong enough, but because I don’t think your raging hard-on can last that long. Nine.  Certainly not up against all this thick hardness.  Ten.”


Harry’s already purple face was now even a darker color.  I knew it wasn’t the strain of the pull-ups – certainly a man in Harry’s gorgeous shape – could crank out a hundred chin-ups with no problem.  No, his struggle was from the knowledge that the unmoving massive structure he was exercising on was human.  Well, he actually wondered if a man the size and hardness of Bud Stevens could be human.  There was certainly blood pumping through the vein-covered bulges of the giant man, but Harry wondered if it were some kind of super-serum instead.  Some kind of blood that had been enhanced into something immortal or god-like.  Harry had no idea how close he was.  It was pretty clear that if Harry could have held out for a little longer the front of his cargo shorts would have been easily worn through.  Bud’s body was that hard and unforgiving.  Harry’s own monster cock was equally as hard.  On lift number seventeen, when Harry was at the peak of his upward motion, he let out a deep piercing pleasure scream that surely could be heard for miles around.  The word gushed didn’t come close to describing the fire hydrant powered release that exploded from the rod in his shorts.  Harry held his body at the peak of his lift.  The force of his explosion made his lower body pummel away from Bud’s abs and then come slamming back into their ribbed hardness, which, in turn, intensified the man’s release.


“Stand back, boys, he’s an untapped oil well,” Bud boomed into the room.


I didn’t know it was possible for a man to go as purple as Harry went during his ejaculation.  I knew his cock was going to ache for weeks to come.  He was having a Bud Stevens almost-coma induced spurt and I, personally, knew how intense they could be.  I swear Harry’s body grew from its orgasmic workout.  I bet he added a few inches of muscle all over – that’s how powerful his explosion was.  Bud reached up and grabbed the smaller man at the waist – not wanting him to fall when he finally stopped spurting.   I began to worry that the bartender was going to have a heart attack right there on the spot.  My big boyfriend tended to have that kind of effect on people.  Finally, after what seemed like an hour or so, Harry’s body went limp and he stopped shooting.  I thought he might be unconscious, but suddenly his arms dropped and his face went to Bud’s chest.  The bartender’s mouth opened and nestled down on Bud’s doorknob sized nipple and he looked like a baby happy to get his bottle.  Bud moved the guy to that side and held him in place with one huge arm. He then motioned to me.


“Come on over here, Connor. There’s another big man nipple for you to suck on.  Come join Harry for a little dessert.  You both deserve it,” Bud said, making sure I was included in all the fun – he was such a thoughtful man.


I took a few steps and then leapt into the air – the big man’s arm catching me as if I were nothing more than a bunch of cotton balls.  I had my mouth on his sweet nip in mere seconds – sucking as if my life depended on it.  My huge lover chuckled and squeezed me tightly.  He knew the feeling of his huge arm surrounding me was like having a comforter, a wood burning stove, and the heat of an entire football team’s bodies surrounding me at the same time.  The energy of Bud’s body, if harnessed, could have probably powered the continent for many years.   I glanced over at Harry and was surprised to see his eyes were open.  He was looking at me with a face so full of gratitude he didn’t need to say a word.  I could tell he was saying thank you for sharing my huge boyfriend with him.  He didn’t realize that there was no way I could say no to Bud Stevens – mainly because I could never satisfy him on my own completely, but also because letting the man grant wishes and live out fantasies for other little guys was what the big man had been made for. There was no way I could keep the muscled senior citizen to myself.  He might be my boyfriend, but someone so magnificent, so huge, and so incredibly powerful could not be hidden or selfishly kept for myself.  He was a gift to the world and he had to be shared. Besides, Bud believed himself to be the incarnation of a morphed muscled Santa Claus – here, on earth, to bring good will to all men.

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