Leaderboard

Ok guys, this is just a chapter that inspired me this wonderful story, they are chapters let's say....behind the scenes....what happens to the characters that we haven't been told, can you tell me what you think? Of course if you don't like it I won't make any more but here's my contribution! Uncle Ryan - Extra Cap 01 Ben looked at his reflection in the mirror. “Gonna have fun tonight,” he thought to himself as he looked at his big, better, harder new body. what had happened after his visit to his brother Ryan and his son had changed his life forever. It had already been two weeks since he returned from his trip. At first he felt like he was collapsing over what had happened. Karen, his wife had reacted very differently than he expected. He had put on a shirt of his brother Rayan that he no longer used but which was tight and well outlined on his powerful torso, leaving nothing to the imagination, his hairy chest emerged with every breath from the V-neck, demonstrating how massive and powerful he was now. his exposed arms full of veins were barely above the triceps, with sleeves that seemed to depend on his powerful shoulders and which with each movement rose a little more, dangerously close to tearing, As if that wasn't enough, the sweatpants Ryan had given him seemed to hug his full, round ass and taut thighs like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. He also noticed that two or three ladies at the airport had been eyeing him all the way from the exit to his SUV, not to mention the guy who had followed him to the bathroom who he could swear had seen bathing in his crotch once Ben in front of the mirror he had pulled up his shirt to check his abdomen as hard as a brick wall! "What the hell...!" - was the expression with which Karen reacted when she saw the man who looked like her husband but decidedly more like a comic book hulk come back in, so large hat she barely even recognized him! ""...but what...what happened to you Ben?!?!" a redhead asked the embarrassed big man in front of her who evidently wasn't expecting this reaction. "Honey..." he began to try to explain what that trip had meant and how it had profoundly changed him, trying to hug her but instead feeling pressure on his shirt that felt a loud RIIIP from his back, too wide and powerful to be contained by it anymore. "..don't you dare call me that...that was my husband's nickname...not this.....this.....monster!" - Karen's words came to Ben with a mixture of heaviness and annoyance. after all he was better now than the man who had left! Seeing the tear that is forming on the back of his shirt and hearing those words, Ben felt his anger rise, he took the shirt by the neckline and tore it away, as if it were a card sheet from a gift, he was surprised and at the same time he was sickened by it, from that mixture of power, erotic and liberation! "BEN!" Karen shouted "...but what do you think....oh my god....look at you....you're...you're disgusting!" - Ben still looked at the remains of the shirt in his hands, a smile forming on his lips mixed with lust and pleasure, for what he had just done..."Karen....my love...I...I..." - he tried to start again... but again he was interrupted by Karen: "Not a single word! I don't know what happened at your brother's place, I know that crazy guy has always been obsessed with the gym....horrible....really disgusting... but I want you to stop it immediately! .. .You're disgusting too!" at these umpteenth words Ban felt a surge of anger and pride inside, he felt like a volcano was about to explode, his chest swelled and expanded with every breath, his gaze became harder, veins began to swell on his arms and on his chest also visible through his mantle of salt-pepper hair that covered that chiseled and massive trunk! He moved his arm against the block, driving his huge fist in! continuing to look at his wife, now clearly upset. Karen was truly intimidated by her husband for the first time. Ben's gaze then softened, and he said, "Karen, sweetie, I like what happened to me, I like myself this way." the wife wasn't sure what to say....her husband just a week ago was a weak compliant little man who obeyed her every word....now she was faced with a determined, determined, massive muscular monster that she had no intention of doing what she had ordered. "...you like yourself like this...what...what do you mean?...that you won't stop?...that maybe..." Karen said, even more shocked as the minutes passed. "No. I won't stop with the weights, on the contrary....I really think that from today onwards I will continue this path, I like it, and I want more"... thus saying absentmindedly I pass my right hand, freed from the hole in the wall I'm still dirty with plaster and dust, on his massive chest, feeling it, savoring its size and strength, squeezing his left thigh with my left hand, flexing it for even more power. "...I want to be even more disgusting, honey." - Karen gasped at what she saw, her husband was adoring himself before her eyes, and she wanted more of it. in a certain sense she...did she...like it? No! it was not possible! It wasn't right! He was so disgusting! "Ben! Stop it! I...I'll leave if you keep going like this....oh keep going....I meant stop it!" The new Ben had seen the look of lust with which his wife had been observing him since he had shown his power, it was no longer the weak well, but a new and better well. and he liked it. He slowly approached his wife, intimidated by this muscular monster, asking her to accept what had now been decided and which would only get better, bigger, bigger, stronger. "No!...go away....I'm going away! I can't....you're....you're...so hot..NO!..I meant so disgusting! I have to go! "...she said moving away from Ben, biting her lower lip, her heart was beating fast...but why?!?!..."I'm leaving! she said heading towards the door...hesitating and staggering....this did not escape Ben who replied: "Ok Karen, go ahead...I will always be here...more disgusting than ever!...like this saying he made a most mucular, contracting his entire body, full of tension, anger and testosterone, emitting a low deep animal growl, which expresses everything, like a primordial bestial roar that finally freed the new and improved man from all the constraints that he had suffered over the years and accepted from his wife, as if he wanted to free himself from everything, causing his sweatpants to tear along the edges and on the front, showing off even more muscle than Karen could handle! "..OMG..." - was the last sentence he heard from his wife as she left with a mix of panic and lust, in an evident state of pleasure, given the puddle of vaginal fluid, which she left behind her. So this new path begins for Ben, finishing looking in the mirror and picking up his gym bag, now remembering it he could say that perhaps he could have acted, done or said different things. But he wouldn't have given up on the new self anyway. the memory of that moment had hardened Ben's virility, his display of strength, his domination over an obsessive and pressing wife, the sensation of mass and power. He dropped his gym bag and raised his arms, flexing his huge biceps on either side of his head. As he moved his head to the side to examine the mountains that jutted out on each arm, Ben seemed intoxicated by his own muscularity. As he stared at the massive pecs, layered abs and bulging arms, and could feel his cock twitch in response and wanting release from the prison of his jockstrap, this excited him even more and he flexed his massive chest. savoring the new dimension, the true essence of the animal he was becoming, the beast that wanted to be freed. Her cock getting harder, leaving drops of precum on the floor, “All This Hair, All These Muscles! I know STRONG!!! Bigger, BIGGER! PUMP ME GRR! GRRAHH” seeming to almost expand with every flex, like he was pumping his muscle's bigger and thicker growing right before his eye's! A huge bubble butt watching it be penetrated by the huge fingers hearing him groan even louder as he fingered the giant muscle crack. -well started rubbing his own cock watching hinself continue plowing his ass with his hand, spreading his stance further and further apart making the two gigantic cum filled balls come into view between the colossal legs. He gazed up and down the two pillars of muscle 's holding up the monster size frame getting down to the floor where a empty syringes standing next to his giant's feet. “UHHHH” - Ben roaring moan of pleasure watching him pull his hand out of his ass watching him bend over hearing a strange slurping noise. The mirror Ben 's cum covered face eating what looked like cups of sperm from his own hands rubbing it all over his body, squirting out more and more from the huge testicles. “MMm Fuck So Hot, Gonna Get So Massive, I will Be the BIGGEST!” it was so raunchy and hot at the same time. watching practically himself in the mirrr buck his ass of him wildly moaning louder and louder rubbing a wad of his man juice up his huge muscular crack of him suddenly shooting a massive load of cum on the mirror covering his reflection of him. Well let out an almost evil smile. He watched his muscled out self of him wipe some more of the cum off the mirror eating as much as he could, suddenly heading over to his bed reaching into the bag pulling out another syringe about to shoot up, it's gym time, remind himself, recovering from the lust of his new self.It's time to show what I can do, my true power Now it's time to get really huge, like his brother Ryan.

Max, dude! I was wondering when you'd make this post! You wouldn't believe the encounter I had with that guy. So, he sells me this vial of... I don't know what. Tells me that, if I inject it, it will "make a new man out of you." His words. Anyway, not a week later, I feel hyper, like I drank three Monsters back to back. I head to the gym to burn off some steam and I found myself just grabbing weights and doing whatever exercise I could think of. Everything just felt too damn light for some reason. I loaded a barbell with I don't even know what weight at first and started benching. But it felt too light. Then I heard someone go "Holy shit!" and I snapped out of it long enough to see a sight I will never forget. I was halfway into a bicep curl rep with a thousand pounds. And it felt like an aluminum can. I was hard as fuck! I put the weight down and headed to the lockers. I started flexing my muscles in the mirror, my cock hard as a steel pole. Then, one of the twinks from the gym comes up behind me and starts feeling my pecs. We were both so fuckin' horny that we didn't care who saw what. I bring him in front of me and let him go at it while I flexed for him. I don't know how long we were there, but he was worshiping me, riding my cock, sucking me off... He was as insatiable as I was. Shit, as I am, since I'm still fuckin' horny. If we're as strong as you say we are, this is gonna be a blast! Anyway, I gotta go. That twink is coming over and we're gonna see how long we both can jerk off.

Here is a new story from a friend featuring one of my favorite subjects. Big muscle daddies . I'd been talking about a story like this with my friend and they decided to write a story on it. Just to be clear, this is not an incest story. And it follows in a similar genre as my Elongro and Performance Incentive stories. So there may be elements of domination, humiliation, cucking, etc. Again, just to be clear, I did not write this, but was given permission by the author to share it here. Enjoy! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Chapter 1 - Dr. Tait Holden, MD, Ph.D. sat in his office at 345 Park Avenue Manhattan dictating another report. It had been an exhausting few months. Since he attended the college football championship game in January there had only been a few days that he had been home. Travel all over the nation, living in hotel after hotel after hotel. Dozens upon dozens of days long interviews with clients. Just as many or more consultant meetings and video conferences each week. Having to attend gladhand receptions and dinners with the more hands-on owners when he would much rather have been home. But the end of the yearly ritual was within sight. It was now early May. He was back in his Manhattan loft full time, and, at last, the busiest part of his work year was almost over. That was not to say Tait actually liked New York City. It was just a necessary evil. At least the Spring weather was nice here. He just had too much Nebraska in him to ever feel comfortable in a two bedroom - two bath top floor loft in Chelsea that he bought strictly for its vaulted ceilings or in a suit in the corporate offices. In fact, he often mused about the size of the mansion he could have bought back in Omaha for what he spent on 1200 square feet here. But, as much as he did not like Manhattan, at least he wasn’t always on an airplane living out of a suitcase. He could get some fresh air on the roof of his building after his morning run with a cup of coffee and a quick hot tub boil to relax his quads and calves before work. Cramped, crowded subway commutes were never fun for him, but having his own kitchen each night made sticking to his new workout and gym goals much easier. Those had been KILLER to maintain on the road to be sure. But, he never turned down a challenge. Besides, he thought he had progressed quite nicely on those goals over travel season, all things considered. Just a few more weeks. A few more weeks of reports and these meetings and he would finally be able to close the Chelsea loft for the summer and take some vacation time at his Montana cabin. In the remote wilderness with just himself, the animals, and his private gym, he could really focus on his training undisturbed until fall. Sure there would be some work between the first day of training camp and week one, but that would be the exception, not the rule. Tait was reciting long lines of dry medical jargon into his headset, when an unexpected buzz brought him out of his notes. He pressed pause on the mic control, and the main switchboard operator’s voice sounded. “Doctor Holden. Sean Foley from the PGA is on 7-2788 for you.” Tait smiled to himself as he told the operator to transfer the call to him. Sean was one of the best professional golf coaches on the planet, counting players the likes of Tiger Woods and Justin Rose among his clients. Getting this type of call would be unheard of for most doctors, but for Tait, it was run of the mill. He was, after all, one of the preeminent sports psychiatrists/psychologists in the United States. Tait flipped another switch on his mic to change from the computer dictation program to the phone lines, and a button on his desk phone connected the call. “Sean. It’s been quite a while. How are you man?” “I’m good, Tait. Covid took a toll on business, but what didn’t it take a toll on. How are you?” the man replied. “Trust me, I understand that. As for me - rough part of my season winding down and craving a vacation,” Tait said. “So, what can I do for you? You finally want to cash in that favor I owe you? If so, I know this perfect spot just off the coast of Miami. Private island, warm–” The voice on the phone quipped. “No way. Having you on the hook for a favor is too valuable to give up on just anything.” Then the voice became earnest. “Listen, Tait, this is - rather personal. Well, more personal for you I dare say. I don’t know if it is my business to tell you or if you already know. But you're a friend, and I have to say something. “Something is very wrong, Tait. Have you talked to Kane lately?” Tait’s jovial mood changed instantly. “Not for months, Sean. Between the rush for the draft and - well - you know - Kane being Kane. Thought it best to give him some space and let him call me. What's –” The voice interrupted. “That fits, Tait. But this is different. Fuck, Tait. I'm worried. Let me explain.” *** In Mountain View, California, a twenty-five year old man sat watching the sun rise in a quiet upper middle class neighborhood in which anyone could be happy. Except that the young man wasn’t happy. He hadn’t been happy for months. Not since that day at the gym. Since then, even his fiancé, who at one time made him unconsciously smile just being in her presence, couldn't rouse him from his preoccupied doldrums. It all started after that guy – no, he couldn't face it. It was too – Suddenly, his cellphone rang. The iPhone played a ringtone he had not heard in ages - Ozzy Osborne's “Patient Number 9.” The young man literally groaned as he picked up the phone to see *RESTRICTED NUMBER* as the caller. That ringtone was no accident then… Why now? He thought. Why now? Of all people on earth. With what happened, why him? The universe must hate me…. But the young man knew there was no way to ignore the call or the caller. No way to resist the inevitable. No one ever resisted this caller. Not in all the years he had known him. It was like trying to resist the gravity of a black hole. The only way to avoid it was to go around it and never interact with it. But now, he had to. The young man took a long breath and blew it out. Time to face reality. He clicked on the answer icon. “Hi Dad.” “Hi, Son. How are you?” a deep voice replied from the box. “OK. Just the usual,” the young man lied. “What’s up?” “I'm going to be flying into San Francisco tomorrow night and staying all next week. I would like to speak with you and meet Lacey while I am there. I know it is kind of hard for you to bring the girl home to “meet the parents” so to speak. But while I’m there, I thought it might be a good time. It is way past time I met my future daughter-in-law. “Are you both available for lunch Thursday? Say Hog Island Oyster Company at 12:30? It's a bit of overkill I know, but I want to make a good first impression on my new family. And I really want to see how you are. My treat, of course.” Oh fuck, the young man thought. Not just interacting but flying straight into orbit of the black hole. Then, he calmed a bit. Dad has to meet Lacey sometime though. Maybe it can just be lunch if he is working. I hope so. I can't be exposed to hi- The young man banished the thought he was about to have before he fully had it. It was too creepy to ever contemplate. It was wrong too. But it came again. And again. And again… The young man tried to clear his head. He yelled out so that it could be heard by the deep voiced man. “Lacey, do you have time Thursday afternoon for lunch? Dad is on the phone.” In response, a beautiful young woman came around the hallway from the bedroom into the living room. Her face was beaming at the prospect. Their marriage will become much more real after finally meeting her future father-in-law in person. She immediately agreed. “Lacey said it’s fine Dad, so I guess so.” “Great. I am staying at the Four Seasons for work. So, I will meet you both at the restaurant. Just ask for my reservation. I am really looking forward to it, Son. It has been far too long.” As the phone disconnected, the two men on opposite ends of the country - and from the same but opposite worlds - each breathed a sigh. In New York, Tait hated lying to his son. He could count on one hand how many times he had, and some of those had been misdirections about Christmas presents. He had finished in California weeks ago. But something was wrong, and his son needed him. In California, Kane Holden's stomach tied into a knot. He loved his dad, but his father was more of a force of nature than a man. Tait Holden was… His god of a father was coming. And after the dude at the gym, the universe really did hate him. *** When Kyle and Barbara Holden welcomed their fifth child and last child - their first son after four daughters - into the world in 1978 it was a dream come true. Every man dreams of having a son, and that was especially true of the Nebraska cattle rancher. He was not only from a long line of cattlemen, but also a long line of athletes. He himself had been a full scholarship O-line player at the University of Nebraska. His brother had been on the 1968 Olympic wrestling team. And before he settled onto his own ranch, his father had played for twelve seasons with the Phillies and the Dodgers through the 1950’s. His father’s two World Series rings sat proudly in the office at his ranch to that very day. But, at that moment in Creighton Memorial St. Joseph’s Hospital, no one grasped that the infant they named after his two grandpa’s, Tait Michael Holden, would tower over every accomplishment anyone in their families ever had. From the start, it was obvious that Tait was a special baby. First sign was that he was big for a newborn, being 8 pounds 12 ounces. But that big baby would only become BIGGER. Beyond that, Tait was speaking basic sentences at a year old. Reading basic stories at 3. When most little guys were only interested in Sesame Street or GI Joe cartoons, Tait was voraciously learning anything, showing a curiosity in everything from the classroom to snakes and prairie dogs on the ranch to how the cattle were managed for market. By the age of 12, Tait had raised and sold his first steer after winning first place with him at the State Fair. And then another, and then two, and then four. By the time he had graduated high school, Tait had well over eighty thousand dollars in savings from selling his Fair animals and prize money. Tait would have been an incredible rancher if that had been his destiny - but his academic and farm accomplishments were mirrored by his physicality and sports performance. Like all the Holden men, Tait inherited tremendous physical and athletic potential, and in Nebraska countryside tradition, Kyle started his son playing flag football as soon as he was of age. Tait took to the sport like a duck to water. By the time he was a high school freshman, Tait was already playing varsity as a hulking 6’4” terror of a tight end. At high school graduation, he had won every football award possible for high schoolers in the state of Nebraska and more individual player awards than any athlete in Nebraska state history to that point. Of course, Tait was recruited by practically every single division one athletic program that had even the smallest hope of landing him. The only thing that disappointed Kyle at the end was his son’s final decision of where to commit. Instead of one of the highly visible national programs, Tait chose Stanford. He explained that he wanted to develop his mind as well as his football skills, just in case he were injured and couldn’t play and Stanford could certainly do that. Besides, he reasoned, no matter the team’s record, as long as he played his very best game and learned under legendary Stanford head coach Bill Walsh - the NFL scouts would come to him. And come they did as Tait became a once in a generation position player. When Tait’s body finally stopped growing, he was just a fraction under 6’9” tall, and the strength coaching and nutrition staff transformed him into a 315 pound gridiron titan. And it was by no means a flabby 300 pounds. Tait was obsessive in the gym and with diet, so much so that the layer of fat so many tall footballers had simply wasn't there. Tait’s genetics would have allowed him to become a pro bodybuilder if he was not a football player. His body and strikingly good looks made him into what would one day be called the poster child of “aesthetics.” Tait had a 61 inch chest, 22 inch biceps, with a wasp waist of 32 inches that was the same size as each quad. He looked to literally be carved from rock, more like a giant Frank Zane on the field than a Junior Seau. Of course, any college footballer who was 6’9” and more than 300 pounds was tried out on the line and Tait played magnificently there. But, his true skills were at tight end. His gigantic hands made it next to impossible for a quarterback to miss him when called upon to make a catch. And Tait was extremely good at making up for bad throws so that they still wound up in his mitts. His massive legs could push that body at incredible speed for his size, and compared to defensive secondary players who were 100 pounds lighter than him - trying to tackle him was like trying to stop a freight train. And when Tait was called on to make a block for a running back, those who were unfortunate enough to be targeted felt like they had been plowed over by a Union Pacific locomotive. The nickname stuck - so that when the “Freight Train” made a play, the Stanford student section would start chanting lyrics, singing along to a new song by Metallica that was first sung just a few miles away in San Francisco playing over the stadium speakers - No Leaf Clover - “Then it comes to be that the soothing light / At the end of your tunnel / Is just a freight train coming your way / Here it comes.” Tait’s physical gifts were built right along with his mental skill on the field. Under Walsh and his position coaches, Tait had also become an incredible football mind. He absorbed every lesson Walsh and the coaches taught - from how plays unfold across the whole field, to how his own position operated in various schemes to how plays themselves were drawn, even how the players' workouts augmented play making. Tait employed these skills relentlessly. He might have been a freight train in one play but in the next he could work with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel. That versatility made him almost impossible for opposing teams to defend against, Tait was one of the few players on the college level Walsh ever trusted to have the quarterback or center make audibles in an instant based on the defense. What generational greats like Peyton Manning was to Tennessee or Charles Woodson was to Michigan, Tait Holden was at Stanford. After four seasons, when Tait finally declared for the NFL draft, he was a Stanford team captain, a 4-time First Team Academic and on the field All-American. It was rumored that Tait was the inspiration for the creation of the Mackey Trophy to recognize the best tight end in college football since he never won a Heisman. Nevertheless, he was an easy top ten first round pick. Tait spent 8 years in the NFL during the 2000s, amassing 2 Superbowl rings, 7 consecutive selections for the pro bowl, and 4 first team all pro rankings. It was argued in NFL circles that if he had continued playing, he would have been tied with Jason Witten and Tony Gonzalez as the greatest tight ends of the modern NFL. He was definitely heading for the Hall of Fame. But, unexpectedly, at the age of 30, Tait retired from professional sports. The official reason Tait gave was that he wanted to make sure he maintained his health from possible injury or concussion disorder. CTE was becoming more and more popular in the discussion of player health and Tait was a massively hard tackler. But the real reason was very different. Social media barely existed at the end of Tait’s career, and at that time the press barely covered player families unless they were famous beforehand. No one ever spoke of the players' children. So, few outside his team and fewer true friend’s knew about Tait’s wife. Her name was Jess Walker. Tait met her at a party when he was a Stanford freshman. Next to Tait, she was tiny at 5’1” and 105 pounds. But she was perfect for her spot on the gymnastics team. And she had gotten involved in a new sport from a gymnastics coach in Santa Cruz that he called “Crossfit.” For the first time in his life, Tait was thunderstruck by a girl. He was awestruck that such a petite girl could be so fit and strong and do the things she could do. But it was every single conversation with Jess that pulled Tait in. He could just lie on a couch and hold her and talk with her for days on end it seemed. They soon began exclusive dating and became quite the item on campus. But, as sometimes happens, in their junior year, Jess retired from team sports as she was pregnant and soon gave birth to a baby boy - Matthew Kane Holden. Although Tait wasn't religious, he had been raised with salt of the earth, mid-western values. So his first inclination was to marry Jess, stop football, and go to work. But, both Jess and her parents would not hear of it. They refused to allow Tait to give up his career and his future, even with a child on the way. Eventually, Tait agreed, but he and his family would provide everything Jess and Kane needed while waiting for him to go to the NFL. The Holden's lived up to every word - with Jess completing an MBA while waiting. Finally, in Tait's second year in the League, he and Jess married in a tiny ceremony in the prairie church in Nebraska where his family had married for generations. Tait deeply loved Jess and his boy. Though his looks and body made him a virtual pin up model with the expected continual offers of sex when he was on the road with the team - and sometimes right in front of Jess - he was absolutely faithful to them. They seemed to be on the road to long term happiness. But then the phone call came - There had been an accident on the freeway. Jess’s petite body stood no chance in the force of the impact, and she had passed from her injuries. Luckily Kane had been with his grandparents so he was unharmed. But Jess was gone. He was widowed at 30 years old. Tait was devastated. He decided at that moment to do everything he could to provide family and stability for his son, and to not risk his body again. Tait retired from football less than a month later. And rather than live on his well-invested football money - he had been paid over 38 million dollars in his career which had already almost doubled through wise investment - or become a coach, Tait decided to use some of his money to go back to his alma mater - Stanford. Tait was easily accepted into Stanford Medical School, graduating as a single dad with an MD and a PhD in what was then a new and upcoming field called Sports Psychology. After four years of residency at The University of Pennsylvania, Tait became a licensed sports psychiatrist. He was specifically approached and accepted a job offer from the NFL corporate offices in New York. He was commissioned to begin a new mental health services division under the contract that had just been negotiated between the Player’s Union and the League. Tait provided psychological services to any team organization, from mental health seminars and how to develop mind-body connection to interviewing potential draft prospects for teams from a psychological perspective. When Tait made that call to Kane, he was 44 years old. He had gone on to become the manager of behavioral health practitioners for the League and an incredibly respected NFL representative. He showed favoritism to no one, not even his old coaches and teams and teammates. And, as a former player, he was in particularly high demand to supplement mental health services and team doctors. Through it all, Tait saw to any need his parents, sisters, and son had that they could not meet for themselves. Tait was the man his father and grandfather taught him to be - a man who takes care of his own, protects his own, and provides for his own. Physical Giant, Retired NFL All-Pro, MD from Stanford – Tait really was an Alpha male force of nature. Given the man he was, as soon as he got a hint that his son may be in trouble, Tait dropped everything and flew to San Francisco. *** Kane and Lacey walked into Hog Island Oyster Company about ten minutes before the reservation time. When they approached the maitre’d desk and asked for the Holden reservation, he looked at them rather judgmentally, said they did not take reservations, and then asked them for identification. Once the asswipe was satisfied, he gave them one last sneer and invited them to follow. They were not prepared for where they were going. Apparently the restaurant did take reservations - for Tait Holden. They were escorted to an entire section of reserved outdoor patio seating. In front of them stretched one of the most panoramic views of the San Francisco bay and the bay bridge that anyone could take in. Before they took their seats, they went to the edge of the pier to take in the sight. Of course, for all except the maitre’d, there was another view most of the males had taken in as much as they could. Kane didn’t have to look around to sense the eyes locked onto them - well her. Lacey. Kane was accustomed to it by now. It was something similar to the reaction his father received from women, a reaction he knew he would see and hear again soon enough. Part of him rather enjoyed the looks of envy directed at him. And part of him felt insanely self-conscious and inadequate, as those same looks that were awed by Lacey judged him to be totally lacking compared to the woman on his arm. Lacey Masters had it all. She was a 27 year old drop-dead beauty. Daughter of a Bank of America executive. She had competed twice for Ms. California, and the only thing that truly held her back from winning the title was her 5’6” stature. Like his parents, Kane met Lacey at Stanford, where she had been a cheerleader. Of course, she was just as stunning back in college as now, which cowed Kane. But, he also felt more than a little intimidated by her intellect. She was no stereotypical empty airhead. Lacey was a brilliant financial mind. Even if she had not been a banker's daughter and born to the work, her skills at winning in the markets singled her out as being an up and comer in the corporate world. She worked for the investment firm Dodge and Cox as an analyst and personal portfolio manager, already bringing in a very solid quarter million dollar salary before bonuses each year. She also had a fantastic personal portfolio that seemed to grow whenever the stock market bell rang. In every way, she was the proverbial catch. Then, there was the man beside her. In a way that no one could actually put a finger on, Kane Holden just didn't seem to match up. It wasn’t that Kane was bad looking, True, Lacey was dressed in a fantastic dress and heels that made her stand a couple inches taller than Kane, who in bare feet stood exactly the same height as Lacey. True, his father had the chiseled, rugged good looks of romance and cowboy western novel cover models. But, Kane was not bad looking at all. His features were softer. Kinder. He was what most girls in high school and college described over and over as “cute” - at those moments when those same girls were alone comparing the guys around them. While Lacey was closer to a 10, Kane was more of a 7 or 8. But he was not ugly by any stretch. It wasn't that Kane was lacking in any sort of lack of physical fitness. Sure, Kane had gained about ten pounds since college, but that didn’t mean that he had a full out dad bod or anything. Sure, while Lacey had her beauty queen looks and religiously worked out with weights and yoga, Kane was not exactly a slouch. He had inherited the Holden family athletic gene and had been a 5 year wrestler at Stanford. And now, he was pursuing his other sporting gift - golf. Kane had taken up golf in high school after wrestling season and discovered he had quite a knack for it. With great coaching, Kane had capitalized on that talent, having managed to secure a spot on the PGA tour two years prior. No one in their right mind would claim that a Stanford wrestler and a professional golfer was not successful. It was just that Kane had inherited his mother’s height and weight rather than his father’s - as Kane wrestled at the 141 pound weight class. And unlike his father’s gargantuan, ripped muscles when he was in college sports, Kane was again softer - even when he was in wrestling shape. Kane had lithe muscles and a hint of abs under his shirt rather than the etched, deep 8-pack of his father. Kane had succeeded in wrestling and golf as a good tactician, with flexibility, speed, and technique as allies - the skills of a gymnast that he had inherited from his mother. He just didn’t have the overwhelming physical power combined with tactics that his father had - or that Lacey had in her own more feminine way. And while just becoming a Stanford wrestler and pro golfer was successful, he was middle of the road in both. He was good… good enough. But, he was never going to win the way his Dad and wife did. Kane’s personality didn’t quite match Lacey, that was true. They seemed to be from the “opposites that attract” spectrum rather than being “birds of a feather.” Kane was reserved and somewhat introverted compared to Lacey’s extroverted nature. With his father being away so much as a pro footballer and later medical school and residency, child Kane became a pure “mama’s boy.” Thus, he was crushed when his mother passed. Tait had been as well, but he had an adult perspective that the ten year old Kane did not. Tait had engaged the best therapy possible for his son, of course. And the giant man had been nothing but loving and gentle with his son, sensing his quiet, reserved nature. As Kane was treated by many others in his life. To a fair share of women, that vulnerable side was seen as an endearing quality, again something they called “cute.” But, to others, especially certain males in the elite circles of academics and athletics and later business, Kane was a tempting target to use and step on. Except none ever wanted to face the wrath of Tait Holden or later the corporate power of the Masters. So they left Kane alone - most of them. Looks, physique, mind, attitude, personality. It wasn’t any of these single characteristics that made Kane not match. It was all of these things taken together. Kane was the embodiment of “one of these things is not like the others.” He shouldn’t have been. But, he was. And something deep inside him knew it. It was a feeling people could sense radiating from him. Preoccupation. Tentativeness. Withdrawal. Inadequacy. Good enough. That was Kane in a nutshell - good enough. Good enough - but not great. In any other life Kane has success people only dreamed of. But compared to the others he loved, he was totally outshined; but, he was good enough. As he and Lacey waited for water to be brought to their table, Kane was being swallowed by “good enough.” Kane was cute, vulnerable, had a scrappy puppy quality, and Lacey had come to love him for that and more. But – Tait Holden. He knew Tait Holden was quantum leaps beyond any man Lacey had ever met. Though Lacey was certainly accustomed to getting attention and getting hit upon and being a very strong, dominant woman - she had never been exposed to the quality and quantity of Alpha male Tait Holden in person brought to the table. Kane had no idea how she would react. He knew Lacey loved him. Or it certainly felt like it. But, he knew how his Dad affected women. He had seen it all his life. He knew Tait was no predator. He was no so called “Chad.” He never set out to seduce women. In fact, Tait had always been loyal and honorable toward his mother and any other woman as far as he knew. Stealing a woman away from another was just anathema to him. Before or after Jess death, he had never been part of the underground or above ground athlete culture for women and parties and sex. Tait considered that to be beneath him or any proper man. He had taught Kane that. And - Kane knew he carried the pain every widowed person did. He had seen it when his father had visited his mother’s grave. He still loved HER, even now. Kane thought maybe that was why he was still single. And yet… Kane knew what was coming, and it always inspired a feeling - dread. Kane felt awful about that. He felt so conflicted that he both loved and dreaded his father. His father was just… his father. No bravado, no pretend machismo, nothing at all unnatural for him. Tait was nothing but the archetypal Real Man, in every positive way. Tait had done nothing on purpose to inspire such dread in Kane. Yet, it was there, rolling in him - the feeling of being good enough under the glare of greatness. Then, there was another feeling the son had about his father - a wrong feeling Kane thought. The feeling had no name that Kane could attach to it. He buried it as much as he could as he was afraid of it. He avoided his father because of it. But that day at the gym a few months ago - that other man made him truly feel it for the first time. Kane didn’t want to relive those moments, but he did in a flash. And the feelings that burst out hit him, making his thoughts spin - worse than they already were. How would Lacey react? What would she do? What would he do? Why did he feel this way? He didn’t know if these feelings around - well THEM who Tait may as well have been the leader of - was a part of him that was alpha like his father that he was uncomfortable expressing for where it could lead. He didn’t know if it was admiration or desire or hero worship or… A longing to be like his father or not like his father. It just had no name. It was like – Kane was brought back to the real world and away from the whirlwind of his thoughts by an audible gasp and rustle that went through the entire restaurant. Again, Kane instinctively knew what it was. Who it was. Again, he didn't have to look up to know what had happened to generate that response. But, just like gravity around a black hole, Kane was drawn in and turned to see. Kane’s first thought was that his father looked bigger than he remembered, if such a thing were possible. Tait towered at least a full head over… Well, everyone there. That was normal for a man who was 6’9” outside of a basketball team locker room, but it wasn't just his height. Kane could have sworn that his father was physically wider and more thickly muscled than even during his playing days. Maybe it was just his clothes, Kane reasoned. Tait was dressed in all black - black polo shirt, black slacks and leather belt, black leather dress boots. The height of simplicity. Thing was the way these clothes looked. Every stitch Tait wore was custom tailored. His clothes fit so precisely as to highlight every muscle to the hilt. His massive pecs were totally outlined, his quad development shown through his trousers, an impossibly deep v-taper from shoulders down to his waist, even some of the thicker veins were visible through the cloth. Yet, none of the clothing was so tight as to look like Tait had deliberately done it. They simultaneously looked painted on but loose and comfortable in the way only superbly custom-made clothing can. It wasn’t a matter of Tait showing his wealth or station in life or even simply vanity however. Fact was - no one made off-the-shelf clothing for someone like Tait. Simply finding pants long enough was often difficult, much less pants that could house his monstrous quads and calves. Finding size 18 shoes anywhere in any style at all was nearly impossible. Tait had needed custom clothes as long as Kane could remember. Kane heard another sharp intake of breath - this time from directly behind him. He turned to see Lacey with her mouth agape in shock. “Kane,” she barely whispered, “is… is that-” “Ya, that's Dad.” Kane replied. “Told you. Dad is a bit… different.” Lacey had seen plenty of well built, muscular, handsome men in her years. Plenty of very tall men when she cheered for Stanford basketball. Plenty of so-called Alpha males on the field and at parties and in the halls of power. But Tait - she was just floored, stunned, speechless. He was the biggest man she had ever seen. The sheer size of him. He looked like he could make up three ordinary sized men. And, if she were honest - his sheer sexiness was astonishing. His height, his classic chiseled looks, his commanding vibe. All those things she knew in scattered pieces in other men - but in Tait all combined and magnified in one. She had not even spoken to him yet, but everything about him screamed that this was a man among men. Lacey felt her crotch tingle involuntarily. An animal desire from within her. She couldn’t help it. And she wasn't alone. Every woman in the restaurant was having the same reaction. They all felt the… whatever it is that women feel in the presence of a proverbial apex alpha male. And the men - they all felt what they had in their own package either flex with the same desire or shrivel as it was obvious they were totally outclassed. As the young couple watched, Tait looked down upon the maitre'd - who came no taller than his upper pecs - and spoke to him. They could not hear what was said, but they could see the person who had been more than a bit snobbish and prickish to them physically wilt. Kane noted that the same man who asked them for their identification didn’t ask Tait for the same as he fumbled over himself. At that moment, Tait saw Kane and Lacey in the distance. He said something to the maitre’d and then just walked past him as if he no longer existed. Tait walked through the lunch time crowd like Morpheus in The Matrix. Totally direct and purposeful, yet strolling through the sea of people as if they didn’t exist. All while the maitre’d looked as if he were physically drained - perhaps like Moses after seeing the Burning Bush. As soon as Tait came through the patio doors into the open air, he looked to Kane and said heartfully, “How are you, Son?” Father and son began to walk toward each other. Lacey stood, frozen, watching. Her shock and nervousness only grew as the great man approached. It did not escape her that Tait seemed to cover the same distance that took Kane ten steps in five. The giant reached out and took his flesh and blood by the hand in a massive enveloping handshake and then pulled him into a hug. Lacey thought she could hear Kane reply, but it was lost somewhere in Tait's lower chest muscles - where Kane's head landed upon the man who had 15 inches of height on him. But - that didn't matter to her… yet. That voice - Tait’s deep, smooth, confident voice. Tait sounded like a combination of the bass of Vin Diesel and the smoothness of Lawrence Fishburne. So strong and confident, yet so soothing. That voice could crush an ego or inspire armies or wrap you in curtains of safety and security, depending on how he used it. She understood in a moment why Tait was so effective as a psychiatrist or as a team leader before that. That voice attached to that man could make you want to tell every secret you had and love doing it. She felt herself become even more aroused hearing him. She started to understand what Kane had meant about gravity. She felt pulled toward him, like a moth to a flame. The perfect voice, the perfect height, the perfect muscle, the perfect attitude - she just couldn't help it. He was so much more than Kane’s description could ever hope to convey. She noticed something else in that moment of embrace. Kane. Though they seemed so different - and they were very different - she could see so much of the son in his father and so much of the father in the son. Kane’s voice was baritone rather than bass, not quite as silky smooth and confident. But she could hear so many similarities. Kane had a quiet strength about his voice, much as the magnified version in Tait. There had been more than a few nights when she had become lost in Kane’s voice. Kane’s face and physical features were so different from Tait's - yet there was no question they were father and son. Kane was what Tait would have been if he were more of the non-descript power behind the throne type. A very different type of masculine power; yet it was there. So different - yet so similar. That similarity to Tait made Lacey desire Kane more too. She watched as Tait released Kane and together they approached the table where she was. Kane - she felt ashamed for her reaction to Tait. She loved Kane. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with Kane. Why was she so pulled into wanting Tait to f– She crushed that thought. “And you must be Lacey. It is cliche but Kane has told me so much about you,” she heard as her vision became blocked by a man mountain. Lacey looked up and UP. She felt like she was a little girl again standing in front of her father as Tait held out a wide hand. She extended her own hand and Tait took it. “Dad, this is my fiancé Lacey Masters. Lacey, please meet my Dad, Tait Holden.” Kane introduced. Tait’s voice seemed to wrap the young woman in velvet smoothness. “An absolute pleasure to finally meet the girl my son was lucky enough to catch… or was it entrap?” Tait cracked a mischievous smile with just the hint of a complement toward her and the good natured rib at his son. Kane's cheeks flashed an inordinate amount of red in embarrassment. Lacey giggled. Fuck that smile is like liquid sex. What is it like to kiss–, she thought. “He didn't trap me.” She replied then added almost as an afterthought. “Well… maybe he did, but it's a trap I enjoyed falling into. The pleasure is mine, Doctor Holden.” Tait turned to his son for a moment. “Kane, you didn’t tell me you had found such a keeper of a girl. Better hold tight.” He flashed a smile again before he turned again to Lacy. “Tait, please. You’re not a client in my office, and I still have enough of the ranch in me to hate formality from my family - or close enough to family. Of course, there is one exception I make to formal custom - one I always liked with a beautiful young woman.” Tait’s voice dropped slightly, becoming almost intimate. “‘Enchanté, Mademoiselle.’” In a practiced motion mastered through thousands of repetitions, Tait raised her arm while simultaneously bowing himself and kissed her hand. Lacey shivered. Her panties very nearly became wet in desire. Tait was so big he could totally close her from the outside world if he embraced her. She could tell from the thick, weight lifter built muscles of his hand that he was strong enough to lift her to the ceiling with one arm with no effort at all. She imagined Tait in the gym putting dumbbells more than her body weight easily over his head. Her eyes wandered up his thick corded forearms that radiating raw, crushing power, and, Jesus Christ, that bulging biceps even partly under the sleeve. What must that feel like to… “That’s my Dad, just a smooth-talking, muscle-bound Cassinova.” Kane quipped. Leave it to Kane to ruin the moment, Lacey thought. She almost snapped at him for his rudeness, but was stopped by a good natured chuckle from Tait. Lacey could not tell if the laugh was a “touché” recognition of his son’s verbal jab - or an Alpha male’s amusement at a lesser being trying to stand up to someone far beyond him. Maybe it was both she thought. “Maybe so, Son. I admit to being a softy sometimes under it all. I suppose Kane learned how to trap good women from me.” Tait pointed his free hand toward Lacey’s seat. “May I?” Lacey smiled even more as she gave her ascent. Tait lowered her hand and held it as he escorted her back to her seat. As he led her, she tried to hide the fact that she was shaking at his touch. She understood intellectually that Tait was just showing proper manners. But her body didn’t want to believe it. And… she failed. Tait felt her response and suppressed a knowing smile. As Lacey thought, he wasn’t purposefully trying to do anything. It was just that he had seen this so often that he couldn't help but feel a bit of amusement. Years ago, Jess’s mother told him that common courtesy from him could be misinterpreted by many women because of the masculinity and power he conveyed. So, Tait was very cognizant of where to draw lines with most women. She was family so he would allow more than with most women. But the lines were still there with a woman so much his junior - no matter how much closer to her age his looks made him. Still, very first impressions of Lacey Masters - he liked this girl. Kane - he noticed her response too. Like his father, he had seen this so many times over the years. It was what he knew would happen and was afraid would grow. He hoped this would end when Lacey became more familiar with his father’s presence. The way his mother or grandma or aunts were around his father. They would just laugh at it when they felt it and give their men a smooch. Still he felt a jab of familiar jealousy - no woman had ever responded to a simple display of manners from him like that, much less his own fiancé . Maybe she had never responded like that to anything he had ever done. No matter how intimate. Even in… Kane’s feelings of inadequacy grew even more. And with it his internal conflict expanded. After Lacey was seated, Tait moved to the side and took the only other available seat at the table… Next to the young woman. Kane mentally kicked himself. He had unconsciously upped the level of temptation. He had chosen to sit opposite of Lacey facing her across the table out of habit - the way they always sat when going out. Tait hadn't thought anything about it. He simply slid into where he thought he should sit - within inches of Lacey. It was innocent. Anyone would sit in the only available chair… but now Kane felt even more uncomfortable. Seeing them like this, side by side - it was oddly striking. They sort of matched, like his mother. They looked so–. Awkward silence again took over, but after a few moments, Tait broke the ice. Again, he directed to Lacey. “I suppose this is when we begin the awkward small talk you do when you're meeting the in-laws? I remember mine. Maybe I should just tell some embarrassing childhood stories on Kane like any parent does when meeting their kids’ sweetheart.” Tait flashed his million dollar smile signaling the humor, which made Kane blush again - hoping against hope his Dad wasn't going to actually do that. Tait and Lacey couldn't help but laugh at the sight. It was indeed the perfect thing to break the ice. But her laugh was almost like a schoolgirl enamored of the hot new guy. Of course, she was nervous meeting Tait but - that laugh. It was more than nerves. Without realizing - in a half flirtatious way, her hand moved to Tait's forearm…This time, she was definitely wet. Thank fuck what she was wearing would never let on to her condition. But she felt it. Her biology betrayed her - and what she felt. Crazy, hard muscle. Veins. What about other veins lower down. And his skin - it was an odd juxtaposition of thick and thin, hard and supple - like a weightlifter. Like a strong man. A bodybuilder. Her fingers lingered as she felt movement - the small and large ripples of individual cords of muscle, each of which had to be bigger than Kane's whole forearm. She kept feeling as she caught the scent of Tait's heady musk, a clean but utterly masculine scent - sandalwood and leather and cigar and pheromones and the primitive primate part of her brain responded. Involuntarily, she drew in a breath. That breath - damnit, had she been caught? Lacey’s cheeks flushed and she dropped her hand, though she didn't want to. She was feeling up to her beau’s father. That was awful, but… I have to be good, she thought. She truly believed she was being totally proper now not feeling Tait’s arm - it never reached her consciousness that her hand had just dropped only to come to rest on Tait’s massive quad. The entire previous exchange felt like minutes, but in reality it was just a second or two. Lacey continued, “I hope it's not too awkward.” Her answer was both a proper answer and a Freudian slip. “I make no promises that I won't mess up. But, I'll try my best,” Tait said to both of them, feigning innocence. Tait knew her hand was on his quad… but drew no attention to it. Kane jumped in. “Speaking of awkward - you're looking… BIG, Dad.” Now it was Tait's turn to flash the slightest of emotion - Pride. There was always something special when your kid noticed that you were reaching your goals. “I thought you'd quit working out as much with the Draft interview schedule keeping you so busy.” “I'm glad you noticed, Son. Been working hard the last while even with the schedule. Some OK results for not enough sleep and depending on the team catering crews to give me healthy food, if not exactly geared for me. But, I do want to get bigger.” “Bigger?!?” both twenty-somethings said incredulously in unison. Tait felt Lacey’s hand begin to squeeze his quad. Then move to squeeze another spot. It was a bit of a thrill to feel that a grown woman’s hand - petite though she was - could not even span the single femoral head of his right quad. Just one of the four main groups - wider than the length of her hand from her fingers to wrist. She was looking for weakness. She would not find it. Lacey - she was indeed feeling his leg, trying to figure out what bigger meant. She decided there was no way. How could there be - he was so big already. So totally hard. He had to be immensely strong. Everywhere she felt - nothing but rock hard muscle. It couldn’t get any bigger. Tait could not help but to feed on their stunned energy, particularly Lacey. He found a strange sort of enjoyment at the prospect of showing off for his family and pushing them into disbelief. He decided to go with the flow. He opened a light version of a jock smirk to their reaction. “ “But you're already so BIG?!?” Lacey finally said. Tait held out his right forearm and biceps and began to tense and relax them in view of the kids. It was not a full out flex at all - more of just moving his fingers and wrist making the muscles twist and dance. As he did so, the cords of thick muscle and veins exploded and the promise of a truly monumental biceps mountain hinted it was alive under the black polo sleeve. “I'm certainly trying. It was my New Year’s resolution, so to speak. Maybe it's just an old man's vanity trying to keep up with all these NFL prospects I work with who are even younger than you two. It’s fun to still be able to out work and out lift them, I have to admit. “I turn 45 in a few months, and it is more than fun to see them - please do not take offense Kane, Lacey - but it is more than fun to see them have the same reaction you two are having right now when I get a good pump. I am going for conditioning too, not just size. You know someone my size can put on a lot of muscle AND fat just by existing and eating enough. But I want to carve up the size I am putting on. Be lean and cut as well as bigger. Actually, I am aiming to be better than I ever was when I did the pin up calendars when I played in the league. One last time and hold onto it as long as time and age will let me.” Lacey’s hand groped even more at hearing that. If you looked closely, her eyes dilated. Her cheeks flushed. Her breathing had become a bit faster. More shallow. “Dr. Hold – Tait,” Lacey corrected. “Almost 45?!? You don't look a day over 30.” Kane groaned inwardly. His anger had been growing the entire exchange. He was going to let it all go as a natural reaction that Lacey couldn’t help. His father’s gravity. That it would go away. But that level of blatant hitting on another man right in front of him was uncalled for. It was as clumsy and in his face as if she were still a teenage girl getting attention from the hot jock. Right down to the giggles. He could see Lacey fucking groping his leg and just dying to touch even more – Kane almost said something when Tait stepped in. He deftly slid his own palm over top of Lacey’s hand and pressed down. He stopped her moving. Still feeling him of course, but she was no longer exploring. “Thanks for the flattery. You're too kind. But let's be honest. The gray hair is coming out a lot more than it used to be. I still recover from a workout very fast compared to someone else my age, but not like I did five years ago. We all lose our battle with time. So, you two should enjoy every moment. I have no regrets except…” Tait stopped for a moment. Kane could see a flash across his face of the love his father had for his mother. Tait would never allow himself to break down in public. But that reaction to a thought of his mother was enough to break Kane's anger. “Except for perhaps one. And, frankly, you remind me a bit of her, Lacey.” Tait took a breath to center himself and then he continued, “I've lived life the best I could. And still try. That's why I'm doing this. To live life the best I can before I can’t. I want the same for you two. No matter what that means and where it takes you both. Be who you are and live life to the fullest.” Lacey stopped her attempts at feeling, leaving her hand resting on his quad, but followed up, curiously. “Living our best lives is one thing, but… a pin up calendar?” Tait laughed deeply. “Ya. One of the bright ideas of the League.” Tait said sarcastically, clearly amused at the thought. “They were trying to get more female fans. So their solution was to have those of us who were particularly good looking or at least had good abs that they could airbrush pose for these pin up calendars. Guys of the Gridiron, or something just as cringeworthy, haha. “Never did a thing to get more women fans of the game as far as I know. We just became a little bit of - well - fantasy material for some women and a few guys I guess.” Tait chucked again. “But I did a few calendars to raise money for charity while I was playing. Like, the ones that raise money for animal shelters - what do they call them now “Bullies and Biceps” or “Hunks and Hounds–” Tait laughed again. “I was there with all these fitness models and bodybuilders. A fish out of water as a pro football player with these little pin up dudes. Anyway, they raised some money for good causes. That I am happy to have done. You might even be able to find some of me when I was Kane's age showing off my assets.” “But ya, I want to get truly massive if I can... in fact, I'm working out at the 49ers facility while I am here to stick to the goal. Do that at every team facility when I have to go to in-person interviews. You're both welcome to come if you like. I'm sure the team wouldn't mind.” Tait smiled. “Really,” Lacey said, clearly excited to see Tait in something a bit more revealing than proper clothing. Now it was Tait’s turn. He knew what she was thinking and slightly rubbed Lacey’s hand on his quad. It was imperceptible to anyone visually. But Lacey felt it. “Of course. As often as you like.” He looked at Kane. “Both of you. I’ve never done a workout with you, Son. That would be amazing if we could. I can even try and set up something permanent if you both want.” Feeling Tait’s touch, seeing what she saw, hearing Tait’s invitation to the gym. Lacey just couldn't resist anymore. It was so cliche - but cliche’s work because they are so often real. “Tait - would it be OK if I… if I… see your-” she stumbled over herself, a ball of hormones and nerves. Kane finally snapped. He had endured so much these last few minutes. And this was the last straw. “Lacey, get hold of yourself. This is embarrassing. You wanna date my Dad or something. You sure as hell are feeling him up. Maybe it is just better if I leave you two to it - fuck…” Kane stood to leave, when both Tait and Lacey said, “ Kane, WAIT–” Both immediately withdrew their hands from each other. And as they did Lacey realized just where her hands were. What she was doing… Fuck. Kane was right. She had been flirting with Tait this whole time. She'd been touching him since he had sat in his chair. She just… couldn't help it. Tait was so different and dominant compared to every man she had ever seen, she just felt compelled. Tait was just too powerful a presence for her instincts. She did it even though she intellectually didn't want to. And she had offended the man she loved. Lacey was about to say something when Tait again intervened, again saving the young people. “I'm sorry son. I shouldn't have allowed the conversation to go that way. And I should have stopped anything that crossed any boundaries that you both have. It is not Lacey’s fault. It is mine. You can remember how many people asked me to flex for them or take pics with them when you were a kid. It bothered your mother until she came to understand that it is nothing more than a compliment and I never would dishonor another person or myself by crossing a boundary. She even came to laugh at it. I'm sorry if I have violated any boundary between you two. Can you forgive me?” Tait’s statement about his mother brought back a flood of memories. Indeed he could remember so many times as a kid when people would ask his father to flex or ask for photos… And they'd try to feel his arm. Doing it for kids was one thing but he also remembered the women. So many women. He also remembered his parents laughing and joking after. He always thought it was his Dad being a player - and not the football kind. But now he remembered conversations. Laughing about some reaction. They never made sense to his child’s brain… Until now. “I… I guess so Dad. I didn't remember until now but she and grandma used to laugh about it. She thought you being a hunk was great fun. I… Just…” “No son. I understand. Your mother was one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. I was quite protective of her if you remember. Like I said, Lacey reminds me of her a bit. More than I think you can know. So maybe it is a bit of nostalgia too, no offense intended to Lacey. It is a GREAT compliment. But perhaps I became too familiar out of habit.” “I get it Dad. And I'm sorry. Both of you.” Tait then smiled. “OK, now if it is not violating any boundary and in the spirit we just talked about. If you're OK Kane and Lacey I'm happy to satisfy Lacey’s curiosity and flex for her. You haven't seen the truly bigger me either. And then we will laugh about it. I mean I'm not in the habit of flexing in a Michelin star restaurant. A different kind of beef than what is on the surf and turf? We can satisfy Lacey’s curiosity and I doubt she will ever ask anyone again as I doubt she will ever see any bigger…” Tait smiled broadly - a smile that could melt glaciers. Lacey said, “Kane, please. Really, I am just curious. That's all.” “Alright. Alright. Go ahead. I suppose you will always wonder until you see it. And I have to admit I am a little curious myself. You’re bigger than I ever remember you being, Dad.” Kane said in surrender - and it was true that he was curious. He didn't want to admit it and it was for a very different reason… but he wanted to see his dad flex too. “Well then kiddo, I'll give you a dose of the cannons to feel later.” Tait laughed deeply. “In the meantime, Lacey. Tell me what you think.” Tait bent down in his chair a bit to not draw quite as much attention as a full out flex would do. He held his arm down to be within easy reach and then curled his monster forearm and fist around and up. The muscles of the upper arm rose and Rose and ROSE. Tait smiled as the gigantic muscle took full form. Even Kane in disbelief said, “Christ, Dad.” Tait’s arm was the diameter of a volleyball. A tremendously shaped, peaked mountain exploded out, covered with several thick and thin veins across its surface. The thick/thin skin Lacey noted earlier traced out many striations and a well-developed cleft between the heads of the muscle. The well-made polo covering it made a creaking sound, as the stitching of the custom made shirt was stretched to the limit before Tait rolled the sleeve back to afford a full view of the monster ball and the massive hanging horseshoe beneath the dome. Tait pumped it out and in a couple times. “Thanks Son. It is better with a pump, being honest, but it’s still pretty good. Go ahead Lacey. Tell me what you think.” Lacey’s trembling hands - both of them - reached over and tried to wrap around Tait’s arm. She failed hardcore with many inches between the hand on the bottom and the hand on the top. In fact, her top hand could not even cover half of the biceps mountain. “Oh my GOD.” she said. She tried to squeeze it, but she had no ability to move it at all. It felt like a warm bronze statue in the summer. The flesh was unyielding to her at all. Yet - she felt it move, but only at Tait’s whim. Tait smiled more broadly as he saw her reaction. She moved her hands, trying to feel any soft spot, any weakness, any spot at all that felt like flesh and not rock. There was none. “Oh my God, Tait, Kane, it is SO BIG and HARD. I mean you had hard muscles when we were in school but nothing like this. Tait, you must be the strongest person ever in the gym. Jeez.” “Go ahead and hit it a bit if you want. It’s the same.” Lacey obeyed, fawning as her slight pops became harder and harder into slaps and then into punches. For a girl, Lacey was very strong and fit and knew how to throw a punch from her classes at the gym, Yet all she felt was a sting in her own hand as hit after hit did nothing but make Tait smile at her. “Fuck.” She said under her breath. “I don’t think I could make a dent in this with a baseball bat, Kane. It’s like all the muscle on your whole body is in this one arm. Your muscles have never felt like this. Your muscles are nothing like this. I bet if he squeezed you he could crush you. Wow.” She said under her breath. Tait laughed, “I take it you approve.” “It is the most manly muscle I have ever, ever felt. You’re right Tait. I never need to feel another muscle on a guy again. No one else will ever measure up. I can’t wait to see you put these football guys to shame in the 49ers gym. Can we go Kane, please. I really want to see Tait embarrass a few of those fucks I remember from school.” Tait was still flexing for Lacey, Lacey still feeling, and Kane … Kane still in utter awe. Kane would have felt offended that Lacey flatly said that she would never want to feel his body again after feeling his Dad’s but - he couldn’t. He had hugged his Dad earlier. He had felt his Dad’s body. And seeing this… he wondered if Lacey’s comment wasn’t true. He certainly could never build what his Dad had. He wished he could. He wished he could do ANYTHING to come even close to that. But he had no idea how. And Kane felt… something. Something like gravity. A pull toward SOMETHING... Kane never betrayed the gravity he felt toward his father’s muscle display. “I guess Lacey, if you want and if you are sure, Dad. I’ll go.” “Absolutely. I’ll call Roger Goodell and make it happen if I have to. He owes me a favor anyway. And… thanks for indulging and letting me show off just a bit Matty.” Kane groaned and Lacey looked up at Tait, even as he pumped his arm a few more times under her roaming hands. "Who is Matty?" Kane just looked down, his whole body seemingly turning red in embarrassment. Kane sighed. "Me. That’s what mom and dad called me as a kid. I went by Matt everywhere else except my family called me Matty - until I started using my middle name Kane in college. Guys back on the high school wrestling team heard Dad call me Matty, and the name stuck like glue." Tait looked a bit sheepish. "Damn, son. I’m sorry. There I go telling old men stories. It's just one of those old habits. I know how you feel about Matty." Lacey smiled and chuckled. “I, however, just got a little bit of leverage in the war between the sexes.” In a tremendously cheeky bold move, Lacey bent over and planted a small peck kiss on Tait’s still flexed biceps - the only part of him she could reach as big as he was. “Thank you, Tait. I may have to use it sometime… Matty.” Tait laughed hard and Kane turned redder still. It was really one of those classic parent stories they tell on their kids but… there was something in Lacey’s eyes, on her face. Something. And then it was gone. Tait spoke up. “At least if I do it now, Kane, I won’t get in as much trouble. But I will try to keep that as private as possible. Anyway, It will be a pleasure to show off for you both. It has been a while since someone appreciated what I do with the players – and to the players.” Tait laughed as he slowly lowered his arm. Lacey’s hands hung in mid air for a few moments before she lowered them. She loved Matty… rather Kane like her life depended on it, but… She just HAD to feel that arm again - HAD TO - when she could tell Tait what she really thought - alone when Kane would not hear. HAD TO before Tait left again for New York. “What do you mean Tait,” Lacey said shakily. “What do you do to players?” Tait smiled. "You both were athletes at Stanford. Imagine someone like Christian McCaffrey being told he has to be interviewed by an NFL staff psychiatrist for potential draft teams. He is expecting some short fat dork who has never even taken an elementary school flag football snap to walk in. How do those athletes react when they see me come in and the first thing I do is ask them to do is to take me through their daily workout... and the dork doc beats their ass in every lift." Kane said in a not exactly joking manner after the name “Matty” came out, "Dad has always liked to lord his abilities over other players." Tait looked at them both. "No, it's not that at all. Yes, keeping up with them or beating them in the gym is an ego boost to me, and it hits their ego. But it also serves a purpose in my psychological evaluation of them. “As a rookie in the League, no matter who you are or how good a college player you are, being new in the League, in practice and games and the locker room, you face being physically out-performed and bullied a bit by teammates and rival players. We are all paid professionals, but it is testosterone-fueled men and there is a pecking order and can be pissing wars and dick length contests, at least metaphorically. It is part of tradition, and playing with the best players in the world. Some say I am in the running for the greatest tight end of all time, and it happened to me. I remember getting my bell rung once like I was Big Ben in my first game with Charles Woodsen. Once I got accustomed to the League, half the time some corner in the secondary tried to make a tackle on me and they just bounced off. But that first year or two, I still got flattened more than once and reamed by the locker room and the coaches for it. “By me being a doctor and a retiree and still beating their lifts, I get to see in a small way how they will deal with adjustment to the League psychologically. Can they roll with it and adapt to not being Big Man on Campus anymore and be willing to learn or do they fold and wash out? It's important to see how they will react when I trash talk them a bit, since that will show me how they will take that trash talk in the locker room or that coach ripping them a new asshole for missing an assignment. They also tend to open up to me.a lot more after seeing proof that I really did play in the League. That, though I'm a doc now, I still know the NFL on the field and in the locker room - and could maybe still play if I wanted. That confidence and trust in me is important to get to their true feelings and attitudes and how those will gel with the various clubs and team cultures around the League." Lacey was utterly enchanted getting to hear some of Tait’s intellect and mental prowess at work. But even Kane understood, maybe for the first time in his life, that what he so often saw out of his dad wasn't just being a jock. He remembered what it was like to be called Matty by his teammates. How he sometimes felt belittled by it. Like a tiny boy when he would lose some practice matches or get out worked in the gym or starving to come in on weight. It gnawed at him so much so he changed his name. And the locker room at Stanford was even harder… he could nigh imagine what being a rookie in the NFL was like. The millions spent on one person - if they crumbled like he had crumbled at this lunch seeing so many innocent things as an attack. He understood. It made sense. Tait was doing them a favor by out performing them. Kane knew - he would do the same thing himself for the same reason if he had his Dad’s ability and prowess. Kane’s respect for his Dad expanded at that moment - he was more of a proper man than even he understood. The gravity toward his father increased… “What else do you do for the NFL?” Lacey asked… And so it went as the trio had a wonderful lunch. Lacey drove the conversation, pressing for more and more information about Tait. Tait, happily engaging and observing. And through the entire lunch, Lacey’s hand - whenever she could - touching and feeling Tait’s hard muscles when she thought Kane wouldn’t notice. Tait, having been told that it was no longer crossing a boundary, allowing Lacey to explore to a point. And Kane - gaining more and more appreciation and admiration. Kane’s resistance to the force that pulled him toward his dad slowly collapsing. Kane’s ability to resist his father in anything - slowly crumbling. The feeling… disturbing feeling, slowly increasing. The conflict that had slapped him in the face with the force of a steel chain to the mouth - slowly growing. But, finally, as it always does, the lunch came to an end. After Tait took care of the bill, the three of them walked through the door, and then stood outside. Tait first embraced his son. “I will be in town all week, son. I want to see you again, anytime I can. If not before the trip to the gym, then how about after that. I would really like a little father-son time if that is OK.” Tait then made his son look up as he looked down into the softer male face. “Maybe lunch or dinner, just you and me.” Tait’s tone was obvious - a time when Lacey was not there and when Kane would be a lot less defensive. And Kane could talk openly. Kane thought for a minute and nodded yes. He had never truly been able to say no to his Dad for long. He had never seen anyone who had truly been able to say no to Tait Holden. Then Tait turned to Lacey. “And you, young lady. Thank you for the wonderful meal and wonderful conversation. And I can’t wait to get to know you better as well.” “I can’t wait either, Tait.” Lacey said. The giant embraced the beauty queen, and the beauty queen returned the hug. Tait noticed something that no one could ever see given his size. Lacey - sure, she was hugging him. A hug that was a little too tight, a little too close, hands moving a little too much. She was feeling more than just his muscle again. She was leaning into him, like trying to draw strength from him. For what purpose unless it was – Tait felt her small hand slide just down just a bit. Too far down. The hand went over his hard glute cheek. Feeling, exploring. Kane could not see what she was doing given his massive frame. Tait did what he had done all night, only this time half out of reflex and half out of showing off. He flexed his glutes under her hand. The hand found them particularly impenetrable, as she traced lines until she found the entrance to one of his back pants pockets. The hand slid inside. Tait felt something… and then the hand withdrew and slid back up onto his low back. She pulled back, looked up, and gave Tait a strange, knowing glance. She then took Kane’s hand as if nothing had happened. As the three left the restaurant and Tait started for his car, Lacey could not help looking at Tait’s huge size 18 boots. She happened to wonder for a moment if the old saying was true, as she glanced down to Kane’s size 7 shoes… *** Tait got to the passenger door of the 49er’s team car and opened it. It was only then that he reached his hand into his back pants pocket. His fingers discovered a folded piece of paper. He withdrew it and opened it. Written there was a note - when had she had a chance to write this? - Was her hand feeling his leg, trying to get to a front pocket but was unable? Either way, she was good. Very good. “Tait - Please contact me ASAP. I need to see you again urgently. But text only. 123-555-1212. Please do not call. And PLEASE - Don't tell Kane. - Lacey” ***

“Don’t be afraid to come into my apartment Murph. You have been eyeing me at the gym for literally months. I am fully aware that I am big and beautiful in your head. That is why I invited you over.” “I don’t know Ramon. I am so insecure with myself. I am so small compared to you and my shyness always gets the better of me.” “Just relax and take a deep breath, I think you are so adorable. I was getting so bored dating other guys that were huge like me. Me and you, we click. You have to understand that you can be attractive too.” “You think I am attractive?” “I think you are incredibly cute. Those first awkward days talking to me in the gym definitely made an impact. You were really struggling with those dumbbells, and I helped you use them with correct form. Then I had to help you up when you were having trouble getting off the leg press.” “Oh, yeah, I remember that first week. It was so embarrassing for me.” “Why? This is how friendships can form between two very attractive adult men.” Ramon is standing in his doorway wearing his cut-off shirt, showing off his hairy, thick, meaty biceps and triceps, big forearms, and pumped, round, insanely furry pecs. His big bulbous ass hugs his gym shorts well while his furry quads stretch the fabric to the very last stitch. He is gifted with incredibly large calves as well. The bearded Brazilian drove his American friend to his apartment because he has developed strong feelings for him, and he wants him to trust his intuition. Murph thinks he is being tricked, but is so smitten by the hunky bodybuilder, that he couldn’t resist not going to his place after the gym. The gorgeous South American beauty now has his hand out to hold his friend’s. He can him groaning under his breath. “Haha, take your time bro. I am not going anywhere tonight.” “I just...uh...my stupid anxiety.” “Okay, let me help you relax a little bit then.” Ramon steps out of his apartment to put his hands on Murph’s face and leans in to kiss him. The lanky 24-year-old with glasses, a black t-shirt, and matching black shorts is thrown off guard. He instinctively puts his hands on his friend’s thick black mane and starts petting it. Ramon loves it so much. He has now moved his hands down to Murph’s back and is holding him. “MMM...see buddy, I’m not faking this. This kiss was so good. Come in so we can get something to eat.” He puts one of his huge veiny arms around Murph’s waist and leads him inside. They are walking towards the kitchen. He lets go of his friend and tells him to go sit on one of the chairs in front of his island. He opens his fridge and starts pulling out a bunch of stuff he made the previous day. Most of it of course is extremely healthy food including chicken, eggs, salad, and an array of vegetables. “Wow, this is what I usually see on TikTok, Ramon. All the usual pro bodybuilder foods.” “Nothing wrong with that Murph. I think I can make us something good out of all of this.” As he starts preparing their meals, the Brazilian pulls his top off and tosses it over to a chair in the tv area located beside the kitchen. He looks over at his buddy and grins as he nonchalantly starts bouncing his pecs. Murph rolls his eyes for a few seconds but then smiles back. “Oh, so what if I do this then mister.” Ramon lifts one of his big arms up and starts to flex his left bicep, staring at it as it rises to 22”. He squeezes it hard and grunts making his forearm bulge as the veins swell. Murph does enjoy watching him do that. After a couple of seconds, he goes back to cutting vegetables and boiled eggs. “I do love a man who has worked hard to achieve such incredible size, Ramon.” “You are with one right now bro.” Murph’s need to go touch his upper body is getting the best of him. The South American beauty looks at him again and is smirking. “Come over here Murph. You can put your hands on me.” The much smaller, lighter-skinned man slowly gets out of his chair and moves around the island to start running his hands along Ramon’s huge chest and his muscle gut. He can hear the Brazilian beast sighing under his breath. “You enjoy it when I run my hands on your body?” He stops prepping the food again and reaches over to clasp Murph’s hands with his. “You clearly know how to use these, buddy. The way you touch my pecs and abs is...incredibly relaxing.” He pulls one of Murph’s hands up to his face and kisses it slowly. He can feel his friend starting to tremble with pleasure. Then he picks him up and sits him on the island, beside the food as he parts his buddy’s legs and wraps them around his thick muscular waist. He leans up against the island, as it makes a loud noise. Murph looks up at him in shock as he starts mumbling incoherent words. Ramon grins again as he grabs his friend’s hands. “They feel really good on my body. You should start massaging my chest again.” “Oh...Uh...yeah. Umm...I mean...I guess.” The young man is now messing with his huge hairy pecs again, finding his nipples and pinching them. Ramon lets out a few loud moans as he tries to finish fixing their food. Murph can’t believe that he is nearly being humped by probably the most beautiful man he has ever been around, and that he is letting him feel his muscles freely. Once he is done putting their food on plates he has out, the beautiful Brazilian quickly drops his shorts. His massive brownish cock is now in full view of Murph’s peripheral. He can’t take his eyes off it as it bounces up and down. “Oops, I must have accidentally dropped my shorts on the floor.” “You weren’t wearing anything underneath?” “Haha, I rarely do bud. It does turn heads on occasion. Isn’t he a sexy beast?” “Umm...yes...I mean...yes? Oh well...I shouldn’t have said...” Before he can finish his sentence, Ramon has one of Murph’s hands on top of it. He feels a large bead of precum coming out of the rod’s head. The two men are now locking eyes on each other. “Bro... I want you. I have had such a hunger for you for quite some time, you have no idea.” “OH! But you just made this food for us? I mean...mmm...” Murph wants desperately to put that beautiful brown penis in his mouth and Ramon knows it. He shoves his smaller partner down to it and moans as he feels him start to suck on the big head. The huge hunky beast has a very intense look on his face, like he is upset with him, but that isn’t what it is at all. Murph stops for a second with concern. “Did I do something wrong?” “NO BUD! You are...doing everything right. I just haven’t...well...I have a lot in there. We can have dessert first I guess.” Murph winks as he goes back to worshipping Ramon’s big, beautiful tool. He can hear the hot beast sighing in pleasure as the huge beefcake looks down at him savoring his thick meat and is now rubbing his impressive ball sack as well. “You are not so shy anymore, are you Murph? You just couldn’t help yourself when you saw him down there. I am so glad you took the hint because there could be a surprise for you very soon if you continue to suck me off.” The taste of Ramon’s precum is sending shockwaves through Murph’s brain. He can’t seem to concentrate on anything else at this point as he continues to worship his beautiful partner’s huge veiny cock. He has started to run his hands up and down the Brazilian’s chest again, petting his fur and it is making him moan deeply as he feels himself getting closer to the edge of ecstasy. “Yo bud, I think we need to take those glasses off your face. You are going to ruin them if you get too excited.” Ramon makes him stop for a few seconds so that he can put the food on the plates in the refrigerator and puts Murph’s glasses over on another counter. He takes his shorts and throws them off to the side before turning back around to lean in and embrace his partner to kiss him on the lips for a few seconds. He then pushes the 24-year-old back to where he was on the island and shoves his throbbing wet cock back in his face. “You don’t have to stop again this time. I know what you want, and you can have it. We are both pretty hungry I think, the food can wait till after we are done having a little fun with each other.” “I am so mesmerized by not only you Ramon, but your incredible muscular body. Your big penis is so freaking beautiful, and I might be a little obsessed with it.” The hunky Brazilian laughs as he pets his friend’s balding head lovingly. He then starts to move Murph back on top of his cock again. The American starts to slowly gulp down on him again, which once again gets several heavy sighs from Ramon, who is liking the way that his partner treats his equipment. “Ahh, I have to say Murph, I really do like the way you make me feel. I am getting SOOO...close to mmm...” He looks at his friend and moans seeing his precum dripping off Murph’s face. The nerdy man is moaning himself as he rubs Ramon’s tool all over his face. He licks and slurps on it several times before shoving it in his mouth again. The beautiful bodybuilder thrusts several times, marveling at how well his partner can handle it. “YEAH! It feels so fucking good bro. I am going to cum... get ready for it.” Murph moans loudly as he starts to feel it leaving Ramon’s cock and down his throat. He gags several times, which makes his well-muscled friend grunt in pleasure. Some of his cum is now leaking out the sides of his American buddy’s mouth and down his face to his shirt. He pulls the beast out and feels some of his seed against his nose as another jet lands on his head. “Oh, fuck Murph, I am so turned on. Coating you is something I have wanted to do for a while now. And if things go the way I hope they do, that won’t be the only thing happening here soon.” “Uhm...mmm...you taste so freaking good Ramon. I will be your cum bucket anytime you want me to.” Murph realizes what he said at the end of his statement. “What do you mean by happening here soon? Did you do something to me?” Ramon finishes cumming and leans down to slowly kiss his friend on the lips again. They embrace for a few moments as Murph starts to softly groan under his breath. His Brazilian partner sighs knowing what is about to start happening to his nerdy buddy. “I want to hold you up against me when it begins, bud. I wasn’t always so big, muscular, and beautiful as you say I am. I made sure that I injected myself with the growth hormone that my coach gave to me this morning. He is the one responsible for turning me into this hunk that you want so much. Now, I want to do the same for you.” Murph can feel his cock reacting in his shorts and is trying not to make it too obvious. Ramon hugs him tightly against his big chest and whispers softly into his right ear, “Us former nerds don’t have to be in the background anymore. Get huge for me, amante. I want to parade you around like the besta quente you will be.” The nerdy young man groans as he feels his legs getting thicker as they start to stretch further down the island towards the tiled floor beneath them. The big Brazilian has his hands on Murph’s ass as it swells inside both of them. He moans squeezing each individual inflating mound of beef as his friend tries to keep his composure in the process. “Oh, so this is what you had planned for me. I admit that I am more than willing to be your boyfriend, Ramon. I just had no idea that you were going to...well...I most certainly want to get huge and hot like you.” Murph’s feet have grown even larger as his calves expand into thick and veiny upside-down beefy hearts. He smiles as he watches his forearms and biceps inflating and pushes Ramon back a bit so he can stand up. He turns his back around towards the Brazilian and moans as he shows his friend how much it is growing underneath his shirt. His delts and traps are swelling to nearly twice their size. He is also feeling a great deal of adrenaline pumping through his veins. “Wow, I can feel my confidence growing with each passing second Ramon. This is literally erasing years of training that I would have needed to do to achieve such a dreamy body. The added height is making this even better too.” “Fuck Murph...I am so in lust of what is happening to you right now. I didn’t even think I would be into this as much as I am.” “I love it too...no more wondering about how much food I need to ingest. No more pining for guys and being down on myself. RRAAHH...I am so close to bursting out of these clothes too.” The young man turns back around to face his hunky buddy and now has grown a thick blackish beard. The hair on his head has fallen off and his shirt is now practically painted onto his thick frame. His obliques and stabilizers are fully visible beneath the tight fabric and his huge pecs are beginning to pull the shirt apart. He can hear some of the seams making loud noises. His moans are getting louder as his quads stretch his shorts to their limits. The denseness of both quads mesmerizes Ramon so much that he reaches in to rub on each of them with his hands and fingers. There are veins cascading all over both of his giant thighs as his Brazilian partner slowly squeezes them and marvels at their diamond shaped beauty. He can hear Murph sighing in pleasure as he does this. He has also started flexing both of his engorged forearms, making each of them swell as the veins and muscles bulge even bigger. His inflating biceps and triceps are now becoming too large for his shirt to handle as the sleeves rip open and each monstrously large upper arm becomes visible to Ramon’s eyes. He has now moved his hands up to each of them and squeezes them in awe. “You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on Murph. I just want to fucking worship every inch of you.” “You will get to do that soon enough stud. It is just about time for me to get completely naked for you.” The growing beast grunts as he feels his shorts ripping along their sides as his growing ass also frees itself out the back. His glutes have also mangled his boxers as they swell even bigger. His growing cock is destroying the zipper on his shorts as it finally rages out and hangs downward towards the ground. His ball sac is also tearing its way out to join the party. Murph yells in delight as he feels his shirt ripping in multiple places. His huge pecs flop out in seconds as his V-shaped torso follows. He shows Ramon what his huge lats and delts are doing as they tear his shirt in half. He starts flexing his neck as the muscles bulge wider, veins thick and corded, which makes him laugh with pleasure when he sees and hears his friend making grunting noises. He then does a double bicep which pretty much finishes the shirt off, as his mammoth round shoulders and traps split his top as it drapes down the front and back of his huge frame. He then tears it off with just a few of his fingers. “Am I starting to resemble Brandao now, Ramon?” “What do you think sua fera linda?” “Damn, I am really loving the fact that you are speaking Portuguese to me now.” “I want you so much Murph. You are intoxicating me with your new swagger and your vast muscularity. Estou a apaixonar-me por ti.” “You don’t need to call me by that name anymore either. That ship has now passed beautiful. I will be known as Brock from now on. I can’t wait until our friends see us together. Mm...I have waited YEARS to be with another man of your caliber. Uh...let me see if I can say something in your sexy language...Obrigado...querido.” “Ahh, I love your new name, Brock. Agora eu quero me sufocar nos seus musculos.” “OMG, come over here and fucking worship me then, you beautiful Portuguese stud.” He finishes ripping his shorts and boxers off, fulling nude now, and continues to flex for his friend. Ramon wraps his arms around Brock’s waist and starts to lick and kiss his partner’s huge guns. His mouth eventually finds its way to other areas including his huge pecs, which Ramon can’t get enough of as he spends several minutes working on both of them, licking and chewing on Brock’s hard nipples. After also meeting the huge beast’s big 10-inch companion between his quads for quite a while, the Brazilian makes eye contact with Brock again and they kiss each other on the lips. Ramon has his hands on the beast’s head as they embrace, and he attempts to try and work his cock back to his partner’s huge ass. He learns quickly that Brock is way too strong now to even try this as he finds himself being lifted by the huge hulk and is placed on the island that he once had his partner sitting on. Brock has Ramon turned around with his ass in the air and his big muscular frame leaning up against his Brazilian friend’s body. He can hear his partner breathing heavy and is incredibly excited. “Oh, uh, Brock, eu era um menino mau. Nao me castigue com esse penis grande e viril. Ele Ele...” The thick muscle monster laughs as he starts to smack Ramon’s furry ass and knows how eager he is because his hole is incredibly wet. “I don’t know everything you are saying to me beautiful, but what I am getting out of that is that you think my penis is great, or you think I am virile. Haha, well it is incredibly big now and I think that I would agree that I am quite the specimen.” He moans as he starts to push himself inside Ramon. He is loving the sounds that are coming from his partner too, as he lays on top of the hunk and starts running his hands all over his huge back and arms. They both tell each other how much they desire their muscles as they start kissing each other again with their heads turned to each other. Brock grunts and groans as he slowly moves in and out of his partner’s muscular ass, savoring every moment that he is with his dreamy boyfriend, loving the fact that Ramon is so infatuated with him. They eventually stop kissing when he notices that his balls are getting ready to push his huge load into his cock. “Beautiful Portuguese stud, do you want me to pump it in your hot ass, or do you want to feel me shower you in my love on your face?” “Mm... I want to look at you Brock as you coat me so I can remind myself of why this was the smartest decision of my life.” “OMG, this is why I am falling in love with you.” He pulls his meat out of Ramon’s ass and turns him around on the island facing his huge chest and dick. The beast slowly starts stroking as the 245-pound Brazilian hunk looks into his eyes and smiles as he leans in to kiss his partner’s sweaty abs and even gets a lick in on his big pecs and nips before moving Brock’s hands away from his hard stick so he can finish him off. “Big boy, let me do it for you. I can’t think of a better way of ending this special evening than to down a nice thick milkshake from my boyfriend before we eat some real food.” “I am all yours Ramon.” He has his mouth open and his tongue out as he grips Brock’s big tool in his hands and strokes it with conviction. The beast moans in pleasure as he feels himself getting close to the edge after a few strong rubs. Once he knows it is getting ready to fly, Ramon yells in pleasure as he starts to catch his partner’s thick river in his mouth. He moans as he gulps it down and makes the beast flex his huge arms. Ramon punches him lovingly on his chest, abs, and quads, rubbing them slowly as he continues to drain Brock’s ball sac. He then has to hold the beast up seeing that he is so spent from the buildup to this point. The Brazilian finally opens his mouth and pulls his friend’s cock from his lips. He gets up and hugs Brock in his arms. “I love you, big boy. You not only look amazing, but you taste as good as you look. That sounded better in my head.” “I don’t really care what you say anymore Ramon. I love everything about you. I am hungry, let’s eat.” They both start taking everything out of the refrigerator that Ramon fixed earlier and start dividing everything up between them. They both go sit outside on the deck, still nude, beside each other, at a table that the Brazilian had set up. They quickly start munching on their food while massaging each other’s big muscles. “You might be bigger than Brandao, Brock. Maybe...270...big and beautiful.” “Heh, I love being bigger than you stud.” “We will have to change that. I can grow bigger than this, I have done it before.” “OH, I will enjoy that if it happens then.” “Good, that is something we can both look forward to. After we get some much-needed nutrients, we need to get some quality sleep big boy. I’m sure we can take turns using the other as a body pillow.” “MMM...you are absolutely right.” After spending a few more minutes sitting out in the breezy air, they both get up and take their stuff inside and place things back on the counter by the sink. Brock finds his glasses and puts them on for Ramon to see after his transformation. He is immediately kissed by his partner. “Ah, so you approve of them being on me now?” “There is something about a nerdy hulk that I can’t resist Brock. You put more thoughts in my brain just now. Let’s get to bed and maybe we can talk about how much I love this.” “Heh, oh absolutely beautiful. I have a feeling that the talking will be short-lived.” The two muscle beasts put their arms around each other and walk down the hall into Ramon’s bedroom together. After a couple of minutes of being silly with each other and admiring each other’s voices, they end up focusing on their best body parts, which leads to lots of kissing and licking them. Brock/Murph will likely be the talk of the gym crowd the next day.

Six Months “How are you feeling today?” “My upper body is sore all over, sir.” One side of his mustached mouth curled upward in a half smile – a dimple appearing in his left cheek. The elder muscleman sitting on the edge of the bed liked it when I showed my respect. He had to remind me often not to say ‘sir’ too much when we were in public places because it tended to make him leak thick droplets of pre-cum, which produced wet stains at his crotch. That thought made me want to say it as often as I could. I glanced at his boxers and saw that they were, indeed, tented. His big palm roughly latched onto my right pec and squeezed – causing me to wince from the sore muscles underneath my skin. “Yeah, you’re getting firmer in the chest. You worked hard yesterday, pup. I’m proud of you.” “I just want to make you happy sir.” “Better be careful, there – hearing ‘sir’ too many times could easily send me over the edge. I might have to flip you on your belly and have my way with you.” “Yes sir. Please sir. Anything you say, sir.” A minute later I was moaning loudly as my body was pounded hard into the mattress below – my face plastered into the pillow. The moans were partly from being fucked and partly from the intense soreness I felt all over my upper body. Uncontrollably, I now associated the feeling of being filled to the edge of discomfort by a thick hard cock with the same intense desire that came when the older man encouraged me to finish an exhausting set of reps at the gym. It had gotten so bad that I often was fully hard by the time he brusquely counted down the twelfth lift like a high school football coach. I was like Pavlov’s dog – picking up a dumbbell made my ass immediately tighten with anticipation. I reveled in the fact that my big man was good on his word as his big body smothered me against the bed while he breathed heavily – having ejaculated what felt like a keg-full of cum into my chute. My body was on fire with desire as fur scraped across different parts of my body as the man heaved up and down – against my legs, against my back, and against my neck. I hardened even more as I thought about the salt and pepper thick hair that grew perfectly all over his body. He always left his hard cock speared in my ass – just to show me how long it took for him to go flaccid. His testosterone had to be off the charts – a huge part of it now seeping into my body after being filled by his honey-thick juice. “I warned you, pup.” “You say that like you think what just happened was a punishment for me, sir. I think you know how much I wanted it. “Your turn.” I felt his calloused palm slide between the mattress and my body. His big hand wrapped around my hard cock and with three manly tugs he had me spewing like an untapped water pipe. I let out a loud gasp as my warm juice spewed forth, quickly gluing my stomach to the bedsheet. Even if I had wanted to resist orgasming, it wouldn’t have been possible. My body reacted to this man’s wants and commands whether they were verbal or physical. He played me like some virtuoso violinist – causing me to always cum - hard and quickly. I was helpless when it came to him. “Tomorrow’s leg day. I’m going to push you so hard, boy, I’ll have to carry you home.” My cock tried desperately to spurt more cum at his words, but I was totally spent. I knew that, like the way a strong wind could precede a storm, his words were a warning that he would work me until my calves and thighs were like jelly. There had been a few leg days where he did, indeed, throw me over a shoulder and carried me the three blocks to his brownstone. The big man slid off of me, so he was lying face down beside me on the bed. We were staring at each other – his sky-blue eyes with three wrinkles spiking out from the sides – and he reached over to grab my left triceps. He squeezed his thumb and fingers tightly and I let out a yelp from how quickly he found more soreness in my body. “Yeah, you’re arms are getting tighter. The pain means you’re doing the exercises right, pup. We’re fucking growing you, boy. It’s going to take a while, but I’m going to grow you into my own little muscle monster. I’m going to create you in my own image.” My balls tightened at that thought and I sensed my cock somehow finding a dribble of semen to release . . . from somewhere deep inside. He often made me sit in his lap as he tightened his pecs or flexed his biceps and told me that one day I’d look like him. I would actually salivate when I took a gander at his enormous arm – seriously doubting there was any possible way I could ever be as big as him. I couldn’t tell if the pain I was feeling was from his strong grip or the soreness from lifting, but either way it felt awesome. I had never thought about growing big . . . getting huge muscles . . . but now I saw myself reflected in his eyes. I felt how much his enormous body turned me on. And I knew that I wanted that too . . . not just for me, but for him, as well. He released the clamped hand on my arm and moved his big palm to my ass. The way he patted my cheeks made it clear that he claimed my ass. It was his. He certainly got no objections from me. I wanted to be his. I wanted him to transform me into something that resembled him. I wanted to stretch clothes to the point of ripping. I wanted people coming towards me on the sidewalk to spread apart to give me a wide berth – both because I was big and because they were just a little scared of me. I watched it happen to my big man all the time. A thick finger roughly invaded my hole and I gasped. “Pup, your glutes are growing the fastest and we are barely doing any exercises specifically for them. It’s the fucking. One plowing from me is like a week’s worth of squats. Man, I love your ass.” It was true. I had trouble pulling jeans on now. It was hard to get them over my bubbled butt. I could almost feel how much my ass grew after every pounding from the big man. And my glutes were always so fucking sore. Being butt-plugged by his enormous cock felt almost as good as when I pushed up a loaded bar for the umpteenth time and made my elder muscleman beam with pride. Again, there was almost no difference from pumping iron or being pumped by his piece of iron – both made me horny as hell and ready for a massive ejaculation. The finger pushed deep into my chute and made me tighten my cheeks with all my might – causing the big man to chuckle in appreciation. He brought his face closer to mine. I smelled the mixture of coffee and mouthwash. There was the dimple and the half-smile. “I’m going to make you massive, pup.”