“Keegan . . . Keegan! I can’t breathe, man. Hey, Keegan!”
I could tell he was falling asleep – the rhythm of his breathing was turning even and deep. I knew I needed to have him roll off of me or I’d be trapped for the entire night. Using a good amount of strength, I pulled my hand up between our bodies and found a big hairy nipple to twist, with as much power as my fingers could muster while smashed between us. This snapped the big guy out of his almost-sleep state, causing him to make a sound that was somewhere between a moan and a whine.
“Mmmm-hmmmm, my baby’s ready for round two . . . wait, no, round three.”
“As wonderful as that sounds, no – it’s just that you’re starting to fall asleep and I can’t breathe . . . or feel my legs.”
“Oh . . . sorry, hon, I’m just too big.”
The understatement of the year. The cold, winter’s night air briefly sent a shock to my body as he rolled off of me and exposed me to the elements. I immediately wanted to be smothered by his warmth and weight, again, even if it restricted my breathing and prevented me from being able to get up until he did.
“I gotta pee, anyway,” Keegan said, sliding out of the much too small bed and waddling out the door and down the hall.
I knew his wide shoulders made the narrow passageway leading to the rest of my tiny apartment look even smaller and very claustrophobic. I had watched him make that walk thousands of times – amazed that he wouldn’t have been able to fully extend his arms out sideways unless he accidently punched through drywall, which was always a fear of mine . . . or was it a fantasy. My small place was suddenly filled with what could only be called the sound of a waterfall. Not the trickling sounds of a small stream – more like the deafening pounding of Niagara Falls. Even the guy urinating sounded butch and powerful. And it seemed to last forever. Just when you thought it was ending – at that moment when most guys would be wagging off a few more drops, there’d come another loud steady stream that somehow told you it was a virile hugely muscled man crammed in the tiny bathroom. After what seemed like the same amount of time for a semi-long movie, I’d hear the floorboards complaining about having to support so much weight and then I’d be surrounded, again, with the kind of body warmth that helped me save on my energy bills because I never had to turn on the heat. This time, only a huge arm would be draped over me, but it would still feel like a giant, heavy, folded quilt on my body.
“I really could go again,” came the deep sexy familiar voice, that caused the back of my neck to be caressed by his breath as we spooned.
“I’m not you, remember? Not all of us can rebound quicker than all of the NBA put together. I also have the early shift tomorrow.”
“You work too much.”
“Tell that to my creditors,” I replied, pulling his beefy forearm around me tighter, which caused him to squeeze my body hard. “I had fun tonight. Thanks for coming out with me.”
“Yeah, it was fun . . . but I’m not sure your friends like me.”
“Not this again. Of course, they like you . . . it’s just that they’re still getting to know you. It’s only been a few months.
“It’s just that you guys always talk about stuff I know nothing about.”
“Well, we have a long history together, so there’s a lot of shared information.”
“Yeah, like that friend all of you talked about – the one I don’t know – her name was Marianne something.”
“You mean Marianne Williamson?”
“Um . . . she’s not a friend . . . so to speak. She’s running for president.”
“You have a friend running for president?”
“No, not a friend. She’s just famous and Kyle is like her personal cheerleader or something.”
“See, that’s something I should know . . . to be able to join in the conversation. I think your friends find me boring and stupid.”
I tried to turn my body to face him, but the weight of his big arm prevented it. I tapped it twice – our little signal for him to release whatever part of his body was making movement impossible. He raised his arms so I could spin around and then it came back down, holding me closer. I looked into his innocent, but serious face. I slid my hand up between us and tapped on a gorgeous bulging mound beside his neck.
“What’s the full name of this muscle right here?”
“The trapezius muscle and it’s divided into three areas - the upper, middle, and lower fibers – called the upper, middle, and lower traps.”
“And what specific exercise, pray tell, makes these things get so huge?”
“Well, there’s a lot of debate about that…”
“What’s your favorite, honey, cause it’s obviously working?” I said, smiling.
“I like power shrugs and deadlifts.”
“None of my friends would know any of that. Your expertise is not Marianne Williamson, it’s muscle.”
“You just want me for my body,” he said, sticking out his bottom lip in a forced fake pout.
“That’s a huge part of my attraction . . . and by huge, I mean…”
“I get the point. Name something else besides my body that you find attractive.”
I faked a pained look on my face – as if I couldn’t come up with anything else and the big man squeezed my body hard, making me squeal a little. I suddenly realized that there was some true vulnerability being shown here. My big sweetheart was feeling ‘less than’ and needed some support. I snuggled closer and turned my face up to his.
“Tonight, there was a moment when the beer pitchers were almost empty and I could sense everyone looking at their phones, going to the bathroom, or cruising the joint – anything to keep from being the person that noticed we needed more beer. You, however, poured what remained evenly in everyone’s glass without any hesitation and then took the four pitchers to the bar to get refills. You didn’t think twice. You didn’t have this scorecard in your head that was keeping track of who had already done what and who hadn’t. You just saw that more beer was needed and knew how to improve the situation. Your kindness often overwhelms me with a knowledge of how lucky I am to be with you.”
I had just answered his question honestly – truly believing he was one of the nicest guys on the planet. But my answer moved him in a way I had not expected. A tear slid from the corner of his eye and dropped to the pillow below. My heart opened even wider for this wonderful man.
“Keegan, honey, you are definitely not stupid or boring. Who cares if you know who Marianne Williamson is or not. I love your body, yes, but that is not even close to all the things I love about you. What’s bringing this on?”
I double tapped his arm to be released and sat up, crossing my legs to look down at him. I had my hand on his big biceps, stroking him softly. He turned his head to look up at me and another tear slid down the top part of his cheek.
“This is usually the beginning of the end. I’ve reached this point in too many relationships to even count – room being made for my toothbrush, being introduced to friends, and even being sent out with the guy’s ATM card and code to get money for him before going to a club. It’s just that nothing’s ever lasted more than a few weeks after this point. The guy’s all end up telling me that the conversations are too limited, I spend too much time at the gym, or – as one guy put it – they don’t want to look like they’re out with a hustler every time we went to dinner. I worry that I don’t know how to make it beyond this point. I worry every day that you’ll get tired of me.”
“Hey, Mister Muscles,” I lovingly said the nickname I had given him the first night we met, which, at least, made him briefly smile, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. You never bore me and as for stupidity – remember the first time you took me to a gym. What did I do? Come on, tell me.”
“You thought you could bench what I bench.”
“And what else?”
“You went to pick up the dumbbells I was curling and threw your back out because you couldn’t even lift them a little.”
“You had to carry me to the walk-in clinic down the street. If anyone’s making a fool of themselves in this relationship – it’s definitely me. Who’s to say that you won’t get bored with me soon, eh?”
“That’ll never happen?”
“And why not?”
“Cause you give the best head I’ve ever had,” he said, turning slightly red and smiling.
“Oh, so you like me only because of my mouth.”
I took a pillow and swung it quickly into his face, leaving it there, so all I could see of him was his humongous arm, massive chest, and cobblestone abs. The view still bowled me over – even after all of these months. I heard him saying something under the pillow. I removed it.
“And sex with you is better than chocolate cake,” he said, mentioning the only food that would ever tempt him from leaving his strict eating regime.
“Now, you’re making ME sound like the hustler.”
“You’d be a good one. I remember.”
“Thank you . . . I think. What’s brought all of this on, Mister Muscles? Why the sudden fear of this fabulous thing between us not lasting? You’re not one for losing confidence.”
“I was in the bathroom tonight, around the corner out of sight at the urinals, and I overheard Kyle and Demetrius talking.”
“What did they say?” I asked, knowing already it was going to be something bitchy and unkind.
“Kyle wondered how long you were going to continue to slum it with a Neanderthal and then he said he could see in my eyes that I had no idea who Marianne Williamson was.”
“Fucking Marianne Williamson! When did she become the barometer for all things concerning relationships. First of all, Mister Muscles, Kyle has wanted me since junior high and doesn’t take quickly to any guy I date. Secondly, you intimidate the hell out of him because of your size and big muscles, and, thirdly, I’m going to kick his ass the next time I see him for saying all of this.”
“God, you’re sexy when you defend my honor and talk that way.”
“I’m serious, Keegan. He can’t treat you that way and I will tell him.”
“Um, no you won’t. I don’t want there to be even more of a strain than there already is between your friends and me. I’ll just have to win them over with my princely charm.”
As usual, the big man found a way to help me instantly release anger and tension. I looked down into his eyes and smiled. I lowered my face to give him a long, passionate kiss. I pulled back after a while and we looked at each other – silently.
“So, we good. All this is good, now?” I asked, showing him how important it was to me.
“Better than good,” he said and then lifted the quilt and sheet to reveal a fully hard ‘Tennessee’ – the nickname I had given his dick because I said it was as long and big as that entire southern state. “Show me again why I like you so much.”
My mouth watered a little as ‘Tennessee’ was uncovered even more and two extremely muscled thighs begged to be the support for my small hands as I did what I was truly good at – servicing my big man.
“Five hundred dollars.”
“Okay. A thousand, but that’s my final offer.”
“It’s still no. I have a boyfriend…”
“…and we’re in a monogamous relationship.”
“But there’s enough of you to keep four guys happy!”
“And I’m only interested in keeping one man happy.”
“Then why be a personal trainer? These days, isn’t that just a code word for ‘hustler’?”
“Um . . . no, I truly enjoy helping other people get into shape. By the way, are you going to come on to me every time we work out. I might need to start charging you more if I’m going to have to continue fighting off all your advances.”
I grabbed the man’s hand, which was suddenly placed on my thigh, and squeezed a little too tightly before pushing it away. He let out a slight yelp and shook out his arm wildly. This was my fifth session with Mr. Groping Hands (names withdrawn to protect the guilty) and he was, again, in rare form. Saying the word ‘boyfriend’ had taken me back to earlier that morning when Chef Marco (okay, chef in training) had literally blown me away – no pun intended – with his unbelievable oral skills. I had never met such a talented mouth. The sensation of what his tongue, throat, lips, and teeth could do was still making my groin area buzz with excitement. Mr. Groping Hands clearly thought my bulging crotch was in response to his non-inspiring advances. This guy was definitely a ‘catch’ – rich, well-built, nicely endowed, and smooth in the way expensive liquor went down, but he wasn’t my Marco. He wasn’t the beautiful man that was able to suck my balls in some miraculous way that could make me not able to prevent myself from exploding in less than a minute. I swear, Marco’s mouth should be listed as one of the . . . what was it . . . five wonders of the world? Six wonders of the world? Neither of those sounded right.
“How many wonders of the world are there?” I asked, as I carefully led the man through some sit-ups.
“You mean besides you, Keegan.”
“Yes, not including me,” I answered, signaling him to take a short rest.
“Most scholars say there were seven wonders of the ancient world.”
“Seven. I was close,” I said, tapping his stomach to begin again.
“How about just letting me blow you in my car, Keegan? I can tell your cock is interested – it keeps bobbing up and down when you touch me.”
We were out in the open area of Palisades Park – a hot spot for trainers who didn’t want to see clients in their homes or at the gym. Mr. Groping Hands was a pretty famous director and preferred the anonymity that came with green grass, lots of trees, and a gaze-stealing view of the Pacific Ocean to prevent gawkers. I appreciated his boldness – it was kind of refreshing after all the guys (and gals) that did head games to try and get me into bed. I looked over at his Bentley Flying Spur and then back at his red-from-training-hard face.
“What’s the difference between your car and, let’s say, a Honda Civic.”
“You’re kidding, right? First of all, kid, it’s the comfort. The Flying Spur is like first class on the world’s biggest airplane while the Civic is like where the dog crates are stored. Secondly, it’s the power and pleasure that comes from sitting behind the wheel of that beauty. And, among many other things, it’s knowing that what you’ve got is a classic – something everybody else wants.”
“Well, let’s just say you’re the Civic and my man, Marco, is the Bentley. And you, my friend, are done.”
“Ouch, you sure are a buzz kill. What a way to put me in my place.”
“You worked hard, today. You know, you really don’t need me. You’ve got a clear understanding of exercise, great form, and a great body. I know it’s not good business, but you are paying for something you don’t really need.”
“Are you kidding? You think I’m paying you for your expertise about working out? Buddy, I choose to have you as my trainer so for an hour and a half two days a week I get to look at the kind of perfection that probably inspired Michelangelo. I get to cop a feel or two of the hottest body in the city. I get more fodder from you for private spank time than anything on the great big web could ever offer. I’ll be yanking my chain in my office before you even make it home, Keegan. I hope this Marco fellow knows how lucky he is.”
“I’m the lucky one,” I said, winking at the man.
“Hey, the two of you wouldn’t be interested in a shared bed, sometime, would you?”
“How often do you lend out your Bentley?”
“I’m the same about my man.”
“When the hell did monogamy become so popular again?” he said, collecting his wallet, phone, and other personal items.
“Ever since I met Marco.”
“I’d like to meet your man, sometime, Keegan. Just for dinner, don’t give me that look. I really mean just a meal and conversation. I’d like to meet the guy that has slayed such a huge and handsome dragon. My offer on helping him get a chef position somewhere still stands.”
“Dinner sounds good, I’ll check with Marco and get back to you. Marco always says thank you for the offer of a job, but he wants to make it or break it on his own.”
“You two inspire me,” Mr. Groping Hands said as he reached up to latch a hand on my massive pec and squeeze, before walking off. “One more handful to fuel my afternoon release. See you Tuesday, Mr. Universe.”
I watched the handsome guy walk to his car. He really was a good catch. He was successful. He was a fully ‘out’ director and producer in Hollywood and that was almost unheard of. His movies had won numerous awards and his sole Oscar was for directing an incredible heart-wrenching independent film about two older gay lovers. He was even liked by other people in the business. All of that, however, didn’t come close to Marco. I pulled out my phone and hit the only ‘favorite’ I had.
“Hello, Mister Muscles,” answered the silky voice of my lover.
“Never a bad time for you. I’m just ironing some shirts. How was Mr. Grabby Fingers?”
“Mr. Groping Hands was fine. He offered a thousand dollars today and wanted give me a blow job in his Bentley.”
“You have such the glamorous life. You know, of course, I have figured out who this man is, even though you are the consummate professional and have never revealed his name.”
“I’ll always be able to say I did not tell you. He’d like the three of us to go to dinner sometime. He’d like to behold the stud who has stolen my heart.”
“I think he’d be sadly disappointed and baffled as to why you weren’t already fully ensconced in his Malibu mansion.”
“Or he’d fall in love with you and steal you away,” I said, only half-joking.
“Would his flexed arm surpass the size of yours,” Marco asked, sexily.
“Not even close,” I replied.
“Then you, my friend, have nothing to worry about.”
“Oh, so the first guy you meet that is larger than me is who you’ll dump me for?”
“Well, since I’m never going to meet anyone larger than you – and even if that crazy idea could come true – you have nothing to be worried about. Besides, there’s another huge muscle of yours that I’m pretty sure will never be topped by any other mere mortal.”
“Speaking of ‘Tennessee,’ he’s definitely screaming for some attention from little Marco.”
“Well, since you now have a session with the nameless Mrs. Famous Actress who stars in one of my favorite shows and is married to a world-famous divorce lawyer (no way I could figure that one out), you better calm down before she offers to blow you in whatever fancy car she drives.”
“She always rides her bike to sessions. She’s very concerned about the environment.”
“Of course, she is. Well, tell ‘Tennessee’ that I will see him in the shower this afternoon before I leave for work. One more thing, Mr. Muscles.”
“What’s that, Boo?”
“Don’t be mad when you get a call later on.”
“What does that mean?”
“Just don’t be mad. I’ll see you later. Love you.”
And the phone went dead. I stared at it for a few seconds, wondering what Marco meant. I did not have to wait long to find out, however. The phone rang with a number I did not recognize and had not keyed in.
“Hello,” I said, cautiously.
“Hey, Keegan, it’s Kyle.”
My knight in shining armor had not done what I requested. Kyle had been reprimanded and forced to give me a call. I would have to act angry with Marco for a little while this afternoon, but I knew ‘Tennessee’ would be begging for the beautiful man’s mouth - or even more - and would prevent me from sulking for too long. I returned to the upcoming awkward conversation.
“Hey Kyle, what’s up?”
“Listen, I’ve been thinking that I haven’t started off our relationship on the right foot. I’m pretty protective of Marco and always want what’s best for him. I just wanted to say I’m sorry if I haven’t always been cordial and I was hoping we could, you know, kind of start over and let me make it up to you. If that’s okay . . . with you.”
I knew I wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer or the brightest bulb on the tree, but I did know a thing or two about men and how to act around them. This was a huge deal for Kyle – to be making this call – and it showed what a good friend he was to Marco. Dating a guy is not a private affair – if you wanted it to last, which I definitely did, you had to accept that you were dating his family and friends, too. You also needed to make sure your boyfriend’s best friend never felt too excluded or shamed. I understood Kyle. I also felt for him, since I had figured out, way before Marco told me, that Kyle had a longtime crush on his best friend. I was an unwanted interruption in their unrequited love affair. I knew how to make things right – or as right as they ever would be, because Kyle would continue to be jealous of me. I would just have to accept that.
“Man, Kyle, I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve always been cool. I know it’s hard to add a new person to a set group of friends, but you always seemed to go out of your way to include me. There’s no need for you to apologize, but consider it a clean slate if you need to.”
I could feel the guy’s smile across the phone waves. He knew I was playing along with the game that he was playing. We both knew each other knew it. We both knew Marco knew we were playing it. But that didn’t take away from the fact that we were doing it. I was giving Kyle the gift of being able to call Marco and tell him everything was good. I empowered Kyle with a secure best friend status and the ability to embrace me just a tad more into the group. He was freeing me to completely be Marco’s boyfriend – holding hands when we were out, talking about intimate stuff around everyone, and even kissing, on occasion. We both were freeing Marco of worry and tension our unnamed battle might have caused. The universe shifted to welcome this new reality.
“Okay, then,” Kyle said. “I’m glad. That’s great. I’m really happy you found Marco (we weren’t quite ready to be happy that Marco found me). I’ll see you for drinks tomorrow night, right.”
“Yes, you will. And Kyle, thank you,” I replied and it was the most honest thing in the entire conversation – we both knew that, too.
“Of course, man. Thank you. See you tomorrow.”
The phone went quiet and dark. I immediately texted my sole ‘favorite’ saved in the phone as I watched Mrs. Famous Actress biking up the path. The text was short and sweet.
“Thanks for defending my honor. ‘Tennessee’ will be expecting extra attention to make up for it.”
The text made me long to have ‘Tennessee’ in my mouth right at that moment – or some other orifice of pleasure. My entire being missed the hugeness of Keegan – all of his hugeness – every second he wasn’t touching me. I knew that this feeling was part of the honeymoon period of a relationship, but I also knew it was mostly and specifically to do with how much the big man turned me on. My face only came up to his nipples – a convenient spot for my mouth – and I had a feeling the most accurate ratio would have been three and a half of my bodies equaled his one. I loved muscles – all of my friends knew this – but no one, especially me, would have anticipated the giant mountain of sinew that now shared a bed with me three, four, or – sometimes – seven days a week. We made sure we split our time between both of our places – just to be fair. I was also still amazed he didn’t go crazy in my small place – his enormous frame almost completely filling up any room he was in. His place was bigger, more expensive, and nicer – but Keegan always seemed happy to be at my place, too. He said he just wanted to be wherever I was.
“This moment calls for Ms. Ross, the boss,” I said – to no one - as I found the song ‘I Want Muscles’ and blared it in my apartment.
I had one more shirt to iron, but dancing around my living room took precedence. I thought about calling Kyle to tell him thank you, but that wasn’t how this worked. He needed to think I was still a little unhappy with how he had been treating my new gorgeous, wonderful, mammoth boyfriend. Kyle had heard in my voice the unspoken ultimatum that if I was forced to choose, I’d go with Keegan. It had been the first time ever I had insinuated this, we both felt that big elephant in the room. It scared each of us – a lot – and for the first time in our lives the conversation on the phone had faltered, even stopped for a few seconds. Kyle had been my best friend ever since he had scared the crap out of a bully on the playground in seventh grade by screaming louder than a police siren to alert teachers of a potential incident. The bully never bothered me again and Kyle and I became lifelong friends. We came out to each other in high school and he confessed his love for me in college. Our friendship was cemented even more when we worked through that, me finally letting him know I was drawn to big men. He first thought I meant I was a chub chaser, but then I had told him I liked muscles. We watched each other botch up a few serious relationships and more than a few one-night stands. Then we became locked into the scene in Los Angeles – he, as a new financial planner at his dad’s firm, and me, as one of only twenty-five people chosen to attend a posh three-year culinary school. He was presently working his way up the corporate ladder and I had graduated top of my class and was working hard as a sous chef at a prestigious restaurant. To help make ends meet I had taken a second job delivering nutritious homemade meals to the great people of Los Angeles who had extra money to burn.
“Get that last shirt done,” I said to myself when Ms. Ross had finished singing about men’s bodies.
A big mistake – one that cost me the delivery job – had changed my life forever, just a little over eleven months ago. I had been sent to one of those nice downtown high rises with a meal which could have been a late lunch or an early dinner depending on whomever had ordered it. I wasn’t paying attention – what was new – and got off on the wrong floor because someone had pushed the call button for the elevator but went back into their place to probably retrieve a forgotten item. I assumed it was the floor I needed when the doors opened and no one was there. I went down the hall and mistook 4-K for apartment 5-K. Meanwhile – only to find out later – a broken-hearted bodybuilder/personal trainer named Keegan Robinson was going through a fully acceptable slutty stage after a very hard break up and had made an afternoon booty call to help him relieve some sexual tension before he went to the gym to workout. Keegan lived in apartment 4-K. When he opened the door to find this cute guy standing there with earphones on jamming to some tunes, he was pleasantly surprised by how lucky he was to get such a wholesome looking hookup. He had pulled me into the apartment so quickly that I didn’t really have time to say anything.
“Hey bud, sorry to be so direct, but I just really need to get off before I go and do this intense two-hour workout. You don’t mind if I pay you full price to just suck me off right here, do you? I’d really appreciate it.”
I was still reeling from the fact that this smooth-faced Hercules had answered the door. I had never been this close to someone that size. I had a muscle fetish, for sure, but all of my big body encounters didn’t come close to matching the mountain range of bulges standing there in a tank-top and basketball shorts. My music was blaring, so I hadn’t heard what the giant had said, but when he pulled down his shorts to reveal the longest and thickest and most juicy-looking sausage of my entire life – making it clear he wanted a blowjob – I didn’t miss a beat. I dropped the bag of gourmet food, dropped to my knees, and then dropped that mammoth thing down my throat so quickly you would have thought I was a professional. Every guy I had ever slept with – and it was quite a few – had always said I was the best cocksucker he had ever met. Even if the guy ended up dumping me he always ended with, “I’m going to so miss that mouth of yours.” I have no idea why I was so good. Maybe it was because I just imagined what I would like when I did it. Or maybe it was just because I loved sucking so much. Either way, the stars were aligned that afternoon because my skills and the desire to be really good because of the hulking body I was getting to blow enabled me to give the bodybuilder the kind of pleasure he had never known before. I made him cum so hard he threw his body into a terrifying, but astounding most muscular pose as he spewed – causing me to swallow even harder, which – in turn – made him shoot a quick second round. The big man fell to his knees, his cock pulling from my mouth and his big arms engulfing me.
“Fuuuuuuckkkk, what in the hell was that?” he said loudly between heavy breaths and trying to steady his still-swaying huge body.
I pulled out my earphones and was about to ask what he said, when there was a knock on the door. The giant rose to his feet, still a little unsteady, and pulled up his shorts as he opened the door. A definite slutty player stood there, kind of fake-smiling – which turned into a real smile when he saw the behemoth that had called. I’m sure the hustler was super thankful it was some huge Adonis instead of a balding middle-aged married man.
“Sup, Thor,” the hustler said, “I’m here to rock your world.”
The bodybuilder turned to look at me, catching sight of the food bag at the same time. There was a stack of bills on a table by the door. The big man grabbed these and the bag at the same time. He looked at the address on the slip stapled to the carrier. He turned to slutty hustler and handed him the bag and money.
“Changed my mind, dude. Something better unexpectedly came along. Here’s your money, though, and do you mind delivering this one floor up to 5-K. Thanks a lot,” said the muscled perfection and then he quickly closed the door. Turning to me he added, “Can you do that again?”
Needless to say, Keegan never made it to the gym that evening. The hustler didn’t deliver the food, so I was fired by text when I wouldn’t answer my phone. I had been too busy, however, swallowing four big loads of the bodybuilder’s swimmers within a three-hour period. I had never known a guy that could produce so much semen so quickly. He was some kind of sexual superman. He kept saying each orgasm was more powerful than the last and claimed that I had some kind of oral magical powers. He screamed louder with each ejaculation and I was sure his neighbors thought he was being murdered. After blowing him in the kitchen, living room and bedroom his body was so jacked he said it equaled the two-hour workout he had missed. He ordered Chinese food and we ate it totally nude on his living room floor. After exploding the fourth time, he pulled me onto his humongous body and we kissed for the first time. Basically, my mouth had been filled with his cock for three hours straight and the guy was finally slightly spent, and ready to get to know me.
“Fucking tell me your single . . . um, oh fuck, what’s your name?”
“I’m Marco,” I said, holding out my hand to him as I rested my chin on his massive chest.
“Nice to meet you, Keegan. You have the hottest body I’ve ever seen.”
“And you, my friend, have the hottest mouth I’ve ever known. Please fucking tell me you are single, Marco . . . cause I’m in love.”
“If only it were that simple,” I laughed, and pulled away, but his strong hands grabbed the sides of my head and turned my gaze back to his.
“It is that simple, Marco.”
I could tell he was serious. My instincts told me this was one of the purest moments of my adult life – so far. I knew I could let the cynical side of me take control and ruin the moment, but feeling the man’s hard body beneath mine and his stronger than strong grip on my head made me join him in his joyous world for a little while – even if it was just a fantasy.
“I’m very single, Keegan. I’m also into muscle,” I added, internally saying ‘what the hell’ and choosing to be brutally honest.
“That’s very cool, because I have a lot of that,” he said, smiling.
“I noticed,” I replied.
“Want me to pose for you?”
“That would be awesome. I’ll repay you by sucking you off, again.”
The big man easily tossed me off his body and was standing beside the bed before I even finished my sentence. He then threw his body into the kind of routine that usually made me spew uncontrollably when I watched bodybuilding competitions online. This time, however, I could reach out and touch the real thing as I watched – which seemed to make him happy, too. Soon, Keegan was covered in sweat and insanely pumped.
“Keep posing,” I ordered, as I took his big cock in my mouth.
When I started to have strong feelings for a guy – authentic feelings – my blowjobs actually increased in their power to turn the guy on. I guess it had to do with the fact that I knew this was something real and not just a quickie. I had already started to fall for this big man. I could feel it. Yes, we didn’t know each other and, yes, our meeting had been a big mistake, but something magical was happening between us. His love of my mouth and my love of his muscles were leading to something much more important – something much deeper. He hit a double biceps power pose and I swallowed his tool hard, causing him to buck back and forth with the strongest blast of the evening. He held the flex through the entire orgasm and then collapsed on me when his cock was completely empty. I laughed a little when the huge man was sound asleep in seconds. I guess even superman had a limit when it came to ejaculations. I somehow freed my body from his and started exploring the apartment as Keegan got some much-needed post-sex sleep. The trip around his apartment told me a lot about him – he wasn’t a reader (there were no books, only bodybuilding magazines), he was clearly out to his family (pictures of him kissing past boyfriends while with parents), he had one sister and one brother, he won lots of bodybuilding contests (a lot of first place trophies and medals), he must have been a pretty well-known personal trainer (pictures of him training lots of famous people), and he was well-liked (lots of cards and notes from people telling him how great he was). I also learned about Greg – some guy that had clearly broken up with him recently (note apologizing and saying goodbye and torn pictures of a trip together in the trash can). When I returned to the bedroom I took advantage of his passed-out state and ran my hands over every part of his hard, muscled body. I figured I might never get the chance again, so I should take the opportunity now. As my hands rubbed his perfect pecs, his hands came up and grabbed my head again. He led my face to his nipple and I used my expert sucking skills there, too. Soon I had him moaning like a wild beast. He pulled my head away, so we could, again, gaze at each other.
“Stay the night,” he said.
“On one condition, Mr. Muscles,” I said, using the future nickname for the first time.
“Name it and it’s yours.”
“Fuck me. My ass is getting jealous of all the attention you’ve given my mouth.”
He flexed his right arm hard as his response. I climbed on top of him
Working out in the park – the sun, the breeze, the sound of the ocean – only seemed to make me hornier than a squadron of frat boys. The park and the thought of Marco’s mouth, ass, face, lips, earlobes, balls, kneecaps, toenails – just all of him, really, just did something to me. We’d been together for more than eleven months and I never stopped thinking about him. I kept expecting to stop craving him so much – eventually – but my desire only seemed to increase. I still couldn’t believe he didn’t hate me for thinking he was my rent boy showing up for a little afternoon delight. He had dropped to his knees so quickly that day and given me the kind of mind-altering orgasm you only heard about in fairy tales or sex stories. My legs, which are insanely big and quite powerful had become like liquid as I fell to the floor – a wiped out mess of a man. When I asked if he could do that again, I had truly expected we’d have another round and then I’d be off to the gym and he’d go try to get his delivery job back. I didn’t anticipate my mind would be altered over and over again every time he blew me that night. I finally had just fallen asleep, even my big body had its limits. I felt a little bad when I woke up, but then I found him caressing my entire body and my tool had become fully erect, again. He then asked me to fuck him and I quickly learned his ass gave his mouth some serious competition. Almost a year later I am still trying to decide which part of him gave me more pleasure.
“See you next week,” I called out to the waving Mrs. Famous Actress as she rode away on her bike.
I started gathering all the equipment I used for working out into the big bag that Marco could never budge when I left it in the path we had to travel from one room to another in my apartment. He had figured out that I did it on purpose so I could watch him unsuccessfully try and move it and then finally have to call me to do it. I’d pound on my chest and say ‘you weak, me strong’ before moving it with one hand. Sometimes, I then throw him over my shoulder and take him to the bedroom to show him just how strong a certain part of me was. That first night, before I plowed him, it suddenly dawned on me that he had blown me four times, but I had never gotten him off. I was such a self-absorbed asshole, but it was his fault for being so awesome at blowjobs. I quickly apologized for overlooking his sexual needs. He looked confused, then laughed, and explained he had gotten off every time I had cum. My baffled look amused him and he said making a big guy like me explode gave him much pleasure and he rocked out a load in unison with my orgasms. I had just been too wrecked each time to notice. I found this one of the most erotic things I had ever heard, which only fueled the plowing I gave to his ass even more. When I saw that gorgeous man throw his head back, moaning in ecstasy that first time I fucked him you would have thought I had been given the biggest and best gift in the world, for that’s how I felt. I suddenly understood how blowing me thrilled him so much. Making him scream with pleasure made me explode, as well. We were joined by some kind of inexplicable force that I knew – even that first night together – would never be broken. My phone buzzed and I saw a text which read, ‘I need my Tennessee.’
When Marco greeted me at the door totally nude, which happened a lot, I would so quickly shoot hard that I’d actually feel dizzy and like I might pass out. Today, to be greeted that way, and to immediately smell the wonderful aroma of his famous chicken parmigiana was almost too much to handle – even for a big man like me. Before the click of the door shutting echoed through his small apartment, the guy was on his knees, had ‘Tennessee’ fully unclothed, and was making my love for him blossom even more deeply than it already was. I was worn out from a day of clients, but that man’s lips, that man’s warm mouth, that guy’s deep throat could revive me like one of those electric shock thingies they sometimes put on your chest and yell ‘clear.’ He was some kind of magical Hoover made specifically for my penis. His oral skills made me turn into some kind of wild superman. He made me feel powerful, manly, and able to do anything in the world. My entire body would shoot tense and hard, as if I was showing off on stage or in the bedroom for hundreds of admirers. Sucking me off when I came in was equal to a kiss on the lips to Marco and that was more than okay with me. I knew it was pleasing him as much as it was me, so that made it even better. A couple of minutes later, I’d be leaning against the wall, my chest heaving up and down – unable to move for a few minutes – while he retrieved paper towels to clean up the mess he made on the hardwood floor.
“God . . . I . . . wish . . . I . . . knew . . . how . . . you . . . do . . . that,” I stammered between breaths.
“It’s all because of the magnificent temple I’m kneeling before. It’s all because of ‘Tennessee’,” he said, smiling and finally kissing me hello.
“What’s that I smell?” I asked, as my heartrate returned to normal.
“But I thought you had to work?”
“Susan called yesterday to see if we could change shifts. I thought I’d surprise you.”
“You little gorgeous sneak! Does this mean I get to have numerous orgasms tonight?”
“It does indeed, Mr. Muscles.”
“Hey, wait a minute. I just remembered I’m mad at you. Give me my cum back. I wasn’t going to give into my urges so quickly. I wanted to punish you for calling Kyle.”
“It’s fine for you to be mad, but no one makes my big man feel small,” he said and my heart suddenly thumped harder. “Go sit down in the living room, Mr. Angry Pants, and I’ll bring you a glass of wine.”
I gave him a mean face and walked down the hall. The fragrance hit me before I even got to the back room. When I stepped around the corner I beheld a sight that instantly brought tears to my eyes and made my shoulder convulse as I started to blubber. Every possible empty spot in the room was covered in red roses. The floor, the sofa, the chairs, the tables – everywhere. There were vases with roses, boxes with roses, and rose petals strewn everywhere. Through the water filling my eyes I saw a card sitting on a small table in the center of the room. In bold letters it said ‘open me’ on the front. I knelt down and tore open the envelope. It was a handmade card in the shape of a heart. I opened it and written inside it said ‘turn around.’ In my overwhelmed, confused state I simply did what the card told me to do. There, kneeling behind me, was a now clothed boyfriend holding open a small box with a beautiful man-sized band inside of it. I convulsed and blubbered more – like a baby.
“As I said last night, Mr. Muscles. I’m not going anywhere. There won’t be a point where I say you bore me or that I want something else. I only want you. Forever. And ever. Amen. Keegan Andrew Robinson, will you please do me the great honor of becoming my husband so I can blow you every day for the rest of my life.”
I had to fall back and sit on the floor I was sobbing so hard. I was a mighty oak of a man, someone who won bodybuilding contests and powerlifting competitions. I could make women and men cream in their pants with just a smile or a flex. I lifted more weight than ninety-nine percent of the men in my gym. I intimidated the hell out of powerful businessmen and bullies, alike. But at that moment, at that exact specific second, I became a baby – crying with the kind of joy that can burst a heart. I started nodding my head up and down even as the tears fell on the rose petals around me.
“Yes. Yes. A lifetime of yesses,” I forced my mouth to say as I welcomed Marco into my open arms and squeezed him with way too much strength.
“Whoa, Mr. Muscles, careful, there, don’t break me before you own me!”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You’ve just made me the happiest man in the world. I love you, Marco. I love you so much.”
“I love you, Keegan. Let’s put this ring on that big finger.”
I sat there, with my other hand up to my mouth like some Victorian heroine beholding the love of her life naked for the first time. I watched as the man I loved – the man I would always love – slid a perfect ring on my finger. I held up my hand and started to cry again. Marco, put his palm against my cheek and just smiled at me.
“I’m the luckiest guy I know,” he said, softly, and I cried more. “Sorry to ruin the moment, but you have to call your parents. I promised we would right after I – hopefully – got a yes. Your father actually said he’d give me all of his money if you said no – he was that sure of your answer. Maybe we should tell him you said no, just to get the money.”
“You talked to my parents about this?” I said, shocked.
“I flew up to see them a month ago – remember when you were in Vegas for that photo shoot. Well, I went up there to ask them if I could ask you for your hand in marriage. Your mother cried and your father opened a bottle of champagne that I think probably cost more than I’ve ever made in a year. I had to get their blessing, first. Your sister asked when we would have children – she said she hoped us having kids would get your parents off her back. Your brother started rambling on that it was time for me to start thinking about my portfolio, but then he simply said he’d be honored to have me as a brother-in-law. It actually made me weepy. Not like you, of course, but I still got a little emotional.”
“You are such a hopeless romantic,” I said, hugging him tightly again, but not too tightly.
“By the way, we also have another reason to celebrate – although it pales in comparison to this.”
“What’s that,” I asked.
“Well, it’s not definite yet, because you have to weigh in on the decision. But, if you say yes and I say yes, you’re looking at the new head chef at Grigio.”
“What? Are you fucking with me right now?”
“Nope, it’s true. I could be a real chef by the time we’re husband and husband.”
“That is the best news ever . . . well, second to this,” I said pointing at the ring. “Of course, you should say yes. It’s what you’ve always wanted. You’ll be amazing.”
“It’ll be a lot of hours as I learn the ropes, though. I just want us to be sure.”
“Stop it, we’re sure. We're more than sure. We’ll make it work. We’ll figure out how to sneak in enough blowjobs to keep us both happy. Now, this is definitely the happiest day of my life. I am going to be married to a chef. Chef Marco. Wow, that sounds hot.”
“Call your parents and I’ll finish getting dinner ready,” Marco said, turning his head up so we could kiss deeply.
“Um . . . ‘Tennessee’ is ready to go again if both of those things can wait.”