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Eduardo Parts 1 and 2





“Give it here,” he said as I looked for a bottle opener in a drawer.


I handed him the beer bottle.  He put the edge of the top against his dense nipple and pulled down quickly.  The cap went flying off.  My mouth dropped open wide and he just smiled at me – as if he were pitying a lesser soul.  He handed out his hand for my bottle.  I gave it to him and he repeated the process with his other nipple, as if he needed to show me that both sides were equal.  My mouth dropped open wider.  His smile got bigger.


“I’m really popular at parties,” he said and then he turned to look at my place.  “Nice digs.  I like the high ceilings and wide rooms.  The place goes well with my big body.  Mind if I get more comfortable?”


He had already taken off his shirt, which had almost caused me heart failure.  The huge, gray Harvard sweatshirt didn’t hide his size at all, but it had certainly covered up his definition, fat nips, perfectly defined abs, and his tattoos.  He saw me staring at the one plastered on his right shoulder, just above the well-muscled biceps.


“Are you religious?” I asked him, once I could get my mouth to work again.


“Kind of.  It’s for when I tell someone it’s time for a ‘come to Jesus’ moment.  I’m like a preacher that carries around his own altar to worship at.”


“It’s a very big altar,” I replied, finding some boldness in my quivering body. 


“Don’t ever let anyone tell you size doesn’t matter.”


He unbuttoned his jeans and then pulled down the zipper slowly – teasing me with his eyes as he did.  He then had to actually grunt a little as he struggled to push down his tight jeans over mega-sized quads, revealing white posers covering the kind of package you’d want to receive at Christmas – because it was huge.  He took a sip of beer, making sure his biceps swelled nicely as he did it.  He was watching my every reaction and loving it. 


“Bigness runs in my family,” he said, grabbing one of the dining room chairs, sitting in it, and man spreading his legs in a very inviting way.  “I’ve been blessed in so many ways.”


We had met in one of the only remaining gay bookstores in the city.  He had been looking at the bodybuilding magazines (of course) and I had conveniently dropped in at the same time to pick up a newly translated novel by my favorite Spanish writer.  It was the continuation of a series about a library of forgotten books that I had been anticipating for a long time.  He had sauntered over to the counter as I was checking out, clearly having noticed that I had glanced at him over twelve times in the last five minutes.  When it came to big men, I had no subtlety at all.  He carried a big duffle bag – which screamed either he had just arrived or had been kicked out of someplace just that morning.  He stood entirely too close for me to not acknowledge him – or miss the heat his big body put out.  He towered over me – my face even with his shoulders.  I looked up and smiled – saying nothing.  It was a situation where I didn’t want to say something I’d regret and my mouth wasn’t working that well, anyway.  His beauty and size made me speechless.


“I like that author.  And that series is good.”


I’m a guy that likes all sorts of men – the clueless jock, the sweaty construction worker, the hairy fireman – but I did believe that reading separated the cavemen from the gentlemen.  A good novel could almost be as good as sex – almost.  I quickly glanced down at the cover of the book to make sure it didn’t announce that it was part of a series.  It did not.  This guy might actually read and know an author that I adored.  He clearly picked up on my need to test to see if he really knew the novel – for he quoted a very important line from the other books, perfectly.  He also did it in Catalan, which blew me away.  I couldn’t really think for a few minutes because such a huge and gorgeous man knowing this author was like winning to giant lotteries on the same day.


“He’s one of my favorites.”


“You’ve got good taste.  I’m Eduardo,” he said, holding out a beefy hand that engulfed mine.


“I’m Carson,” I replied – instantly noticing that he purposefully did not squeeze my hand hard, which I was thankful for and disappointed with at the same time. 


“Carson, I hope I’m not being forward, but I’m new to town – hence the bag, and I don’t know anyone.  I just got off a two-day bus ride from Texas and I could really use a beer.  Could I buy you one at some place that’s your favorite?  I’d like to get to know the neighborhood and my, hopefully, soon to be neighbors.”


What makes a guy trust a moment?  What makes a guy make irrational decisions?  Maybe, it was the fact that it was Friday afternoon on a cool summer’s day.  Maybe it was the fact that I felt really handsome in my new tailor-made suit.  Maybe it was the fact that I felt a connection with the guy.  Or, more likely, it was because he was hot as hell and huge as fuck.  But, I suddenly decided that this was an opportunity not to be missed and was aggressively bold. 


“I live around the corner and have a fridge full of beer.  I’m also cooking lasagna, tonight.  Doesn’t that sound better than a bar?”


“It sounds like heaven, Carson.  I might also give you some money if you’d let me take a shower.  I’m pretty rank from the trip.”


“Of course,” I said, handing my money to the grinning lesbian behind the counter.


“Good for you, honey,” she said, winking at me.


And now, there was this huge man in white much-loaded posers sitting in my dining room, sipping a beer and staring at me with a look in his eyes that was both frightening and thrilling at the same time. 


“What brings you to the city,” I asked, leaning against the counter that separated the large open kitchen from the dining room.


“My family didn’t take to the idea that I like men as much as I hoped they would.  Disowned, disinherited, dissed completely – a story that’s been many times before.  I decided I needed to be where my lust for cock wouldn’t be viewed as a ticket straight to hell.”


“Let me guess – the eldest son, the biggest son, and, with looks like that, the son that was going to give mom and dad the best-looking grandchildren.”


“Yes, to all of the above,” Eduardo said, taking another sip of his beer.


“Even if it’s a tale that’s been told before, it’s still pretty sad and unfair,” I said – with a seriousness that seemed to move him.  “You look like you’ll be able to take care of yourself, though.”


“I do alright,” he said, staring right at me,” but sometimes it’s better having someone else taking care of you, you know.  Satisfying one’s own needs can get pretty . . . lonely.”


My brain told me to sip beer – mainly to give my suddenly dry mouth some much needed liquid and to make my brain stop imagining Eduardo satisfying himself.  He sipped, too, but was finishing his beer.  I forced my body to move and went to the fridge to retrieve another one for him.  When I turned around he had moved silently right behind me.  I almost ran into that magnificent chest.  I held up the beer and he took it, making sure his hand brushed across my fingers.  This time, he merely held the bottle and put his thumbnail under the edge of the cap.  He flicked it off easily and caught the thing in his other hand.  I’m sure it was more party tricks.  We were standing close enough for me to get a good whiff of his masculine musk – not even being close to ‘rank’ as he had called himself earlier.  He noticed me inhale deeply.


“Mind if I take that shower now?  I’d like to be clean for dinner.”


“On two conditions, though.”


“Maybe.  What are the conditions?” he asked, suspiciously. 


“One, I’m not taking money from you.  My shower is your shower.  And secondly,” I continued boldly, “you stay dressed only in your posers.  They seem to make you comfortable.”


“Very comfortable.  Carson, I like the way you think.  I believe I might have met my first friend in the city.  I’m looking forward to the lasagna.”


And with that, he turned around slowly and walked away – knowing I was taking a long drink view of his back, ass, and humongous thighs.  He picked up his discarded clothes – how thoughtful – and then grabbed his duffle bag.  As he walked down the hallway, without asking where he should shower, I suddenly realized he’d choose the master bathroom, anyway.  The shower was big with multiple heads and it would be big enough for his huge body.  The masculine smell of him lingered in the kitchen for a while, after he was gone.  I stood there, sipping my beer and willing my body to calm down.  There was a certain place in my bedroom where I knew you could stand and see perfectly into the glassed shower stall in the reflection of the mirror.  I thought about going back and taking a long look.  I’d seen the guy almost completely naked, already, but there was one big part of him I still longed to take a gander at.  I refrained and jumped into action to start dinner.  Twenty minutes later I was standing at the long counter looking at some mail and Eduardo walked out in only one of my enormous, white, thick, fancy hotel-grade towels wrapped around his waist.  His muscles glistened a little from leftover water and his hair was ruffled from towel drying it.  I noticed the towel looked small on him.  He held up his empty beer bottle and I took it, heading to the fridge to get him another.  He had his palms on the counter and was leaning forward when I came back.  His arms were huge and it looked like he might start doing push-ups any second now.  He took the beer and then noticed I was drinking something else.


“I switched to scotch,” I said, not telling it was done to specifically calm my wildly turned-on body.


“You’ve got a big place for just one guy,” he said, making his biceps tense a little as he pressed into the counter. 


I found my gaze drawn to a little tuft of fur right above where the towel was folded over itself at his crotch.  He surely saw where I was staring.  This made him smile and I turned red.  I quickly took a sip of my drink, letting the clink of ice cubes fill the awkward silence. 


“It used to be for two,” I replied, and felt a little pang of sadness.


“Who’s the babe in the picture on the dresser?” Eduardo asked.


“That’s Carlos.  My ex.”


“You have a thing for Latin men?” he inquired, standing up to his full height and squaring off his shoulders.


“I have a thing for men, in general,” I replied.


“Apparently, for big men, from the looks of his body in the picture.”


“I have been known to appreciate the male physique, yes,” I answered.


“How long has Carlos been out of the picture?”


“One month, tomorrow.”


“Ouch.  Still raw, huh?”


“Still very raw.”


“Why is he no longer here?”


“He now lives with my best friend.  They somehow forgot that golden rule of not coveting your neighbor’s or best friend’s husband.”


“I’m sorry to hear that,” Eduardo said and I could tell he genuinely meant it. 


“Don’t be.  I took a sledgehammer to his Mercedes.  He didn’t press charges.  He says we’re even.”


“How long were you together?”


“Eleven years, three months, and two days . . . but who’s counting,” I replied, laughing at my own joke and then taking a large swig of my scotch.


“There’s part of me, by the way, that’s not sad to hear you’re newly single,” he said, gazing intently into my eyes.  “I came out to see if would be okay for me to wear some different posers for dinner.  The white one’s have been on me since Texas.  I have some gold ones I think you’ll like a lot.” 


“As long as they are as hot as the white ones,” I said, wanting to ask him if I could have the one’ he’d worn since Texas for some all-night sniffing – but decided against it.


“I’m hot in whatever I wear,” he said, holding up his beer for a toast.


“I’ll drink to that,” I replied, tapping my scotch glass against the bottle.


“It would only be fair, it seems to me, if you wore as little as I am going to for dinner, though.  I noticed some hot looking running shorts hanging in the bathroom.  I’ll expect you to change into those before dinner.”


And then he walked away, taking his beer and returning to the bedroom down the hall.  Luckily, I had dated the hot muscle head, Carlos, for eleven years.  He was nowhere near the size of Eduardo, but he was pretty big and well developed.  I’d gotten over any inadequacies brought on by being nude next to a bodybuilder years ago – thanks mainly because Carlos had insisted I turn my smaller frame into something pretty hot, myself.  He said he didn’t want to date a dweeb and made it his personal goal to beef me up, slightly.  I had a build I could be proud of – even if I didn’t bulge out everywhere like the body of my house guest.  I looked forward to eating dinner with Eduardo in my shorts.  Eduardo waddled out later on in some shiny golden posers that brought out his dark skin perfectly – indeed, he did look hot in anything he wore.  He entered the room cockily and I, again, marveled at his magnificent body. 


“How’d you get so big?”


“Mostly genetics.  You should see my dad, he makes me look small.  But I also worked out hard starting around grade nine.  Having a dad into bodybuilding helps you to grow.”


“I can imagine.  Dinner is almost ready,” I said, handing him another beer and pointing toward the dining room table.


“Then shouldn’t you be changing?”


“I’m on my way.  Hold your horses, buddy.”


“I’ve been holding my horses all day, Carson.  And even a big man like me can only hold the beasts back for a little while,” he said without hiding the multiple innuendos at all.


As I passed by him, I glanced as his huge body again.  The wide dark circles around his thick plugs caught my attention first.  Man, I was a sucker for huge nips.  They were highlighted by the clearly rock-had mounds of muscle that supported them.  His pecs were broad, thick, pillows of flesh-covered stone and that got me so pumped.  Even relaxed, his arms looked like he was flexing hard.  They bulged with single thick veins snaking across both mammoth peaks.  His traps made me hot and jealous at the same time.  They looked like a second pair of shoulders.  Forearms as thick as my own biceps screamed for my attention, as well.  I definitely wanted to ride his ‘ready-for-saddles’ thighs – each seemingly having the thickness of a horse.  I shook my head as I went down the hallway, bewildered that a man could build his body so beautifully immense.  I took off my suit and hung it up.  I then stripped and put on the black running shorts that were still a little damp from my blast around the park that morning.  I glanced at myself in the mirror.  I knew I looked good – tight runner’s body with a more than adequate face.  I knew I’d be feeling a little inadequate across from Eduardo’s mega bulges at dinner, but I’d be proud of what I brought to the table.  I was in no way a slouch.  When I came back to the dining area, Eduardo let out a big whistle.


“Why Mr. Carson, I do declare,” he said, in a very bad southern accent, “I had no idea you were hiding such a fine specimen of manhood underneath that suit of yours.  That’s a hot, tight body.”


“Thank you,” I replied, retrieving the food from the kitchen, waving Eduardo to stay seated when he started to get up to help.  “Let me serve you . . . you know, to welcome you to our fair city.  Who knows, maybe you can return the favor and serve me something later on.”


“I’d be happy to give you a very big portion later on, Carson.  I’m hoping you can handle it.”


“No portion has ever been too big for me to handle, Eduardo.  It seems appropriate to let you know that,” I said, serving the dinner and looking deeply into his eyes.


“Somehow, I think we’re not just talking about food, anymore,” the big man commented, smiling at me with a knowing grin.  “I like a challenge, sir.”


“Oh, I’m not sure I’d like to compete with you, Eduardo.  A big guy like you would dominate me in any sport.  I’m just letting you know that I can be very accommodating.  Huge men don’t intimidate me.”


“I like that word ‘dominate,’ sir.” Eduardo said, reaching out and putting his giant mitt of a hand on top of mine.


We both looked down at the table to take time to notice the size difference in our fingers and palms.  His hand engulfed mine as if I was just a child.  My crotch responded with what could only be described as an appreciative twitching.  There wasn’t anything I liked more in the world than being ‘dominated’ by a larger, stronger, cockier man.  Eduardo fit the bill perfectly.  He pulled his hand away and we both started to eat.  Allowing silence to calm our raging bodies a little.  Our gaze, however, never broke from each other.


“What are your future plans, Eduardo?” I asked, trying to move away from the edge of mutual explosions. 


“My plan right now is just to get bigger,” he said with a knowing smile.  “Maybe it’s just a way to get back at my family, but – hey – inspiration comes from different places, right?  I just want to keep growing.”


“You’re fucking huge now,” I said, without thinking – and it made him smile.


“But imagine me bigger,” he replied softly.


“I’m not sure my body can take thoughts of you being bigger,” I answered with complete honesty.


He took a huge bite of lasagna and chewed – even as he smiled.  His eyes lit up as he took in all of my admiration and lust.  His pecs rolled up and down just to taunt me and his huge nipples bobbed up and down.  His foot met mine under the table and he placed it on top – pressing down teasingly.  There was power in his legs – that was quite clear from how his big foot smashed mine.  He kept taking giant mouthfuls of lasagna and staring at me.  I needed to get my mind off of thinking about him growing larger.


“Tell me something about yourself that very few people know about you,” I said, taking a sip of wine.


“I get off on being submissive,” Eduardo replied, without missing a beat and the comment made me cough wine back into my glass.  “You okay, there, Carson.”


“Um . . . no, the wine went down wrong.  I’m thinking I might have misunderstood you.”


“Nope, you heard right.  The quickest way to get me rock hard is to boss me around.  I crave being subservient.”


The entire room suddenly seemed off-kilter – like one of those funhouses at a theme park where the floor was slanted or moved.  I felt as if I were an unmoored ship – lost in a fog.  The universe was suddenly not balanced.  To make things even more strange, my already hard cock somehow shot painfully stiffer.  The behemoth across from the table . . . the one with a foot presently dwarfing mine as it covered it . . . was, I think, telling me he liked taking orders, being dominated, serving someone else.  My confusion, doubt, eager wonder must have shown clearly on my face.


“If I analyze it too closely, Carson, it’s probably somehow tied to my father’s cruelty, but I’m seriously working through all of that and I still long to be a ‘yes’ man to some other guy.  I know I’m huge.  I don’t have a self-esteem problem.  I can be the dominant cocky muscleman any time it benefits me, but that’s not what gets me excited.  That’s not the images I beat off to in bed.”


“And . . . um . . . what images do you . . . beat off to?” I asked, still somewhat baffled.


“Doing push-ups while a guy uses me as a footstool.  Cranking out sweaty pose after sweaty pose as a guy tells me how to flex.  Opening doors for a guy.  Serving him breakfast in bed.  Only wearing what he tells me to.  Licking a guy’s feet when he offers them to me.”


“Sweet mother of . . . are you yanking my chain, Eduardo?”


The huge man pushed back his chair and stepped around to my side of the table.  He never took his eyes from mine as he slowly knelt near my chair.  He put his arms behind him, grabbing one wrist with the other hand.  I have no idea what fueled my next action . . . it was just something I knew I was supposed to do.  Maybe Eduardo willed me to do it.  No matter what was the source, I turned in my chair and stuck out my right foot – placing the heel on the floor and making my toes stick upward.  The muscled behemoth’s massive chest was heaving up and down with excitement.  There was a look of total happiness on the big man’s face.  His cobbled abs tensed up beautifully as he bent forward to take my big toe in his mouth.  I had never experienced such an orgasmic sensation before.  I cried out in pleasure as my cock spewed into my running shorts.

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Please continue this! Love stories where the bigger partner lives to serve the smaller and make sure all their fantasies are realized!

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Great stuff as always, LB.  I was excited to see a new story from you and you didn't disappoint.  You never do. 

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Have you finished this story yet and I have not found it yet? Love it and want to read more, PLEASE!!!!

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On 3/11/2020 at 8:44 AM, Hotrox815 said:

Have you finished this story yet and I have not found it yet? Love it and want to read more, PLEASE!!!!

There might be another chapter in the future.  We'll see.


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Part Two

Why was it so exhilarating to watch a massive bodybuilder kneel at my feet and suck on my big toe?  It had caused the kind of ejaculation usually reserved for first-time sex with a man or first-time being plowed.  I was breathing hard and slightly dizzy from the exertion of my orgasm.  And yet, Eduardo kept on sucking.  As if he could still cause my cock to gurgle out some more of its sweet juice.  Which is exactly what happened.  The giant mound of muscle in front of me, pulled his mouth from my toe, kept his arms behind his back, and sat up to look at me.


“I can be a most obedient sub, Carson.”


“How can it be that that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard, Eduardo?  I’ve never felt anything like this before.”


“Maybe you needed a big man like me to open up a new you – to make you aware of a hidden desire.  Maybe there’s part of you that wants to be dominant . . . that wants to order someone else around.  Maybe the idea of my muscles doing your bidding excites you – makes you feel more powerful.  I want to cum, Carson, but only if you say I can.”


I swear the big man’s words made me feel like roaring, as if I were some huge ferocious lion.  I suddenly felt the need to be wearing leather and carrying a whip.  A power I could not name and had never felt before took over my body.   It was as if I had been engulfed by some alien force.   I reached out and stuck two fingers against his lips, then forcing them into Eduardo’s mouth – to shut him up and to make him suck.  My running shorts were tented again, because – miraculously – I was hard as hell, even after such an intense orgasm.  I shoved my fingers further into the muscleman’s mouth and loved hearing him gag a little.  I wiggled them around as an unspoken order for him to start sucking, which he immediately did.  His chiseled jawline and luscious lips around my fingers felt like my first sip of champagne or tasting tiramisu for the first time.  His eyes were glued to mine and I could see that he was begging me for more.  He needed me to dominate him.  I put my foot against his hard cock and pressed in hard.  He moaned loudly – without ever stopping his suction.  His biceps tensed and bulged magnificently as his body squirmed from the pressure of my foot on his throbbing dick.  I shoved my fingers further down his throat.  His eyes started to water from my action, but they sparkled with so much happiness, too.  Some kind of monster took over all of my actions from that moment on.  It was as if I knew exactly what the muscled sub wanted.  I reached out with my free hand and grabbed his hair, pulling his head back while I still pushed my fingers in and out of his mouth and shoved my foot harder into his crotch.  I leaned forward and put my face right in front of his.  An unexpected growling voice came out of my mouth.


“Let me hear you squirt, pig!”


Eduardo’s traps swelled up with mind-boggling hardness, his eyes grew wide, and his body seemed to completely freeze for a few seconds – then all hell broke loose.  He suddenly sucked with unknown power on my fingers and his cock pushed against my foot, shoving me back, as he filled his posers with what seemed like a gallon of muscleman semen.  Every giant bulge on his body seemed to tense from his ejaculation and his huge chest and abs heaved with each convulsing blast.  I couldn’t help myself and an evil satisfied smile crept across my face.  My colossal slave was offering his heavy testosterone-laden load to me as a gift . . . a token of his devotion.  I, indeed, could hear the cum discharging from his giant tool and slamming into his posers.  When his body had finished filling his pouch with hot cum, I pulled my fingers from his mouth and wiped his slobber off by rubbing them across his face and through his hair.  I patted his cheek with something more like a few slaps and the enormous kneeling behemoth moaned with pleasure at my intended abuse.  A new me had been somehow released during our brief exchange.  Power shifted and a new-found need for dominance rose in me like a hunger that needed to be immediately quenched.  I had a new, freaking huge, muscled toy and I was going to take advantage of it.  I somehow instinctively knew exactly how to behave to please my new friend.


“Your hand and in those posers now, boy.  Scoop out some of that thick hot goop and slurp it down.”


My newly found confidence – my recent acquisition of lust for dominance – thrilled me beyond my wildest untapped dreams.  But what it did to the hulking god in front of me was off the charts.  Ordering the man to suck down his own cum was clearly on par with giving him millions of dollars.  My sudden boldness in making him do my bidding was like a hundred orgasms simultaneously hitting his body.  There was absolutely no hesitation.  There was no second guessing.  There was no questioning my authority . . . my total control over him.  He slid a big hand down his perfectly chiseled cobblestoned stomach and drenched his fingers profusely with his heavy cum.  The hand was quickly brought to his mouth, which opened wide to accept the four wide fingers.  The smell of a muscular, powerful man’s semen immediately permeated the room.  Eduardo gulped down his juice loudly and hungrily – still with his gaze locked on mine. 


“Now, dig down in there and slurp up some of mine, my huge muscle pig.”


The big man emitted a slight, completely ecstatic whimper at the order.  Clearly, my wishes were beyond what he had ever imagined.  Before I could have counted to three he had his big mitt down the front of my running shorts, scooping out some of my honey that had been offered in appreciation of his submissive muscles.  He crammed his big fingers into his mouth even quicker this time – clearly wanting to taste my warm sweet juice even more than his own.  I reached out and ran my fingers through his hair – showing my satisfaction with his obeying behavior. 


“Thank you, sir,” he said as he stared at me and continued to lick his fingers spotlessly clean.


“You’re welcome, boy,” I cooed back at him.  “What could be better than having a massive muscled pup following my every command.  It’s like a dream come true . . . a dream I didn’t even know I had.  But what’s in it for you, my big sub.”


“The chance to offer myself to someone, completely,” Eduardo shot back without even thinking.  “To please someone with my body, my words, my actions – it’s like I’ve died and gone to heaven.  I can’t think of anything that brings me more pleasure . . . more satisfaction.  And then, to sit here and wait for what you might order me to do next or what you might request . . . well, that’s what a sub lives for.  Why can’t hugeness yield to things that are smaller.  Why can’t a mighty oak bend to appreciate a slight breeze.  Why can’t a big muscleman yearn to submit to a smaller guy – to make his tremendous size and power the toy of someone else.  Oh, how I long to be someone’s toy.   To be completely focused on making another man completely happy.  To rein in my massiveness for the pleasure of someone else.  I can think of nothing else that would bring me so much joy.  Sir.”


Until this moment I had never even thought about what it would feel like to have an elephant bow to you.  To have an army of men at your beck and call.  Or to hold a massive missile launcher in your arms.  That, however, was exactly the feelings that welled up in me as the humongous Eduardo knelt in front of me and offered his total allegiance.  To be the king to all of his muscledom had not ever begun to enter my mind before – but to see him cowering below me and to hear him talk about being my toy immediately made me cross some relationship line that I knew I would never return from.  I became a dominator in mere minutes.  I wanted a toe-licking muscle beast more than I had ever wanted anything in the world.  It was like Eduardo was becoming my pet – I would take care of him in return for his total devotion.  I instantly needed a show.


“Lick your flexed biceps, sub.”


A mountain of an arm shot up in the air and a gorgeous cherry-red tongue started running over the entire massive peak, just to make me happy.  It snaked up and down a thick vein that covered the biceps.  There was no hesitation – no flicker of doubt in his eyes – after I gave my order.  His tremendous limb simply sailed into the air in response like a giant whale breaking the surface of the ocean and his luscious mouth jumped to work.  There was not even a momentary thought about disobeying.  It was like having a giant robot there to do your lustful bidding.  The major difference, though, was Eduardo wasn’t a machine.  He was a flesh-covered, muscled mountain that had free will.  He happily chose to be my sub.  He seemed to desire it more than anything else.   As he stroked his hard mound of muscle with his tongue, his eyes continued to stay glued on me.  He was checking to make sure I was pleased – ready to change his actions in an instant, if I gave the word.  I began to fully grasp that this muscular he-man, this mountain of gorgeous bulges now lived to anticipate my needs . . . my wants . . . my desires.  As if he had read my mind, he raised his body – never stopping his oral adoration of his huge biceps – and brought the big arm close to my face.  My muscle pig knew I wanted to join in.  Keeping my eyes glued to his I started kissing the mound of hard flesh in front of me, even as he licked it.  We continued to kiss and lick his big arm with our faces about an inch apart – staring into each other’s eyes. 


“My boy loves his big arm, doesn’t he?” I asked, taunting the muscle big even more.


“Yes . . . sir . . .” he said between licks.


“Let this man suck on that beautiful mouth, boy,” I grumbled.


I then grabbed his thick chiseled chin roughly and turned his face from his bulging biceps.  I brought my face to his and locked lips with him.  It was immediately like the two of us had been waiting all of our lives to kiss.  I grabbed his muscled cheeks with both of my hands and pressed my mouth harder into his as he sucked in like some kind of jacked up Hoover.  Eduardo couldn’t help himself – he threw his arms around my body and lifted me out of the chair as he stood up.  I hung there, dangling in his arms a foot off the ground as we kissed like there was no tomorrow. The muscled giant was grunting and moaning like some kind of wounded animal.  I felt his rock-like muscles surrounding my body and I fully comprehended how much power the guy had – but, at the same time, I understood that it was now my power.  That energized me and turned me on more than I could have ever even imagined.  I had a muscle slave that could easily hold me in the air for a kiss.  And that was just the beginning of the strength and size that he had been blessed with from heavy lifting.  I could ask anything of Eduardo and he’d do it.  I’m pretty sure he’d not hurt someone if I asked . . . unless they deserved it.  I also got the feeling he wasn’t into anything highly illegal – but would gladly engage in petty crimes, like busting us into a place that was locked or messing with some guys that were bad.  My toes started to go numb since they weren’t touching anything.  I also was feeling a little compressed by the big man’s arms.  But the kiss made everything worth it.  I forced my tongue into his mouth and tasted remnants of his lasagna.  He was completely lost in the kiss – still trying desperately to make me happy even as he felt pleasure, himself.  I pulled my mouth away from his.


“Carry me to the bedroom, boy.”


It’s one thing to see the mega-sized thigh induced waddle of a big bodybuilder, but it’s a totally different thing to feel that awkward side to side rocking while being held by a huge man.  It was like his body automatically demanded more space from the room as it moved.  Eduardo’s upper legs were thicker than my torso, which made him need a lot of moving room when his mammoth body relocated to another place.  If mountains could walk it would have been the closest thing similar.  His arms still hugged me in mid-air, as if I were simply a pillow he was absent-mindedly taking with him to sleep.  It was pretty clear it did no register at all that he had held a fully-grown man off the ground for a long time.


“Stand me on the bed,” I ordered as we came into the room and I felt his hear beat faster with joy because of my command.


“Yes sir,” he replied, quickly and obediently, and then I looked down at him.


“Turn around.  I want both of us to watch you flex.”

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