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About Gman

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  • Birthday 09/01/1983


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    Newcastle Upon Tyne
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  1. Gman

    Charlie's Secret

    Great story. Sad it’s over. Love your other stuff too.
  2. Gman

    Wee Jock

    Sorry for such a delay in between chapters. Hope the next instalment is worth the wait. Just a reminder: Wee Jock and Sir are heading back from the gym, where they bumped in to Red, who knows Sir. Chapter 6 We got back in to Sir’s car, his massive, pumped up frame filling the space even more than on the drive here. I could feel heat radiating from his left arm. Sir pulled out the carpark and started driving back in to town. “Well that was a good warm up, Wee Jock. Tell me, how long has it been since you’ve been on a gym floor.” “A couple of years. I was a member at uni, but I didn’t go often except to swim.” “You did well. You continue to impress me. I hope you didn’t mind when Red joined us at the end.” “… actually… that was fucking hot.” Sir turned his head briefly and cocked an eyebrow at me before returning his gaze to the road. “Being flanked by two giant muscle men showing off for each other? And then the pair of you looking at my tiny wee pumped up arms? You’re damn right that was fucking hot!” “Your arms aren’t as wee as you think. And those were some nice veins when you got your pump going!” I had to shift myself in the seat to adjust my growing cock. Hearing Sir’s praise was such a turn on. “I can’t compete with the two of you! Look at you. You’ve got veins all the time!” Sir extended his left arm across me, in front of my face, then flexed it. The bulging muscle only about a centimetre in front of my nose. “You mean these veins?” I reached up and ran my finger tips along the veins on his biceps. The vascular structure providing the only leniency on offer on the granite limb. I barely had a few moments before Sir moved his arm to the gear stick. The bunching of his muscles as he shifted gear was mesmerising. I reached out to feel his left thigh when my lustful thoughts were interrupted. “Not whilst I’m driving, Wee Jock.” It was only another few minutes before we pulled up in front of his house. These houses were old, built decades before people owned cars. So on street parking was a premium. I assumed there must be some strict permit system in place. The driver door thumped closed. What was I doing thinking about parking spaces? I was getting nervous again. I fumbled with my seat belt so I could catch up with him. I was so busy with the mechanism I didn’t realise the passenger door had opened until I felt his arm reach over me to unfasten me. Sir then reached his right arm around my back, hooking under my armpit, and with the left arm grabbed my backpack and my legs, and lifted me out the car. I may be wrong, but I’m fairly sure I felt his back bump against the roof of the car when he lifted me up. I clung on to his shoulders as he stood up straight, kicked the car door shut, and started walking up the couple of steps to his door. As we reached his front door he used his left hand to unlock it, and remotely locked his car which beeped at us approvingly. He dropped my backpack and pushed the door shut behind us, and walked through to the bedroom without bothering to turn on the hall lights. In his bedroom, he placed me on the bed, as he turned on the various lamps around the room. He then stood in front of me. I was now lying on my back, propped up on my elbows, eager to see what was going to happen. The giant stood before me, looking directly in to my eyes as he started rolling his shoulders forwards. I couldn’t hold his gaze long as I was too distracted by watching the various heads of his deltoids writhe under his skin. He brought up his right arm and flexed his bicep, and with his left he ran his left index finger slowly down from his wrist, to his elbow, and then along the ridge of the cannonball, tracing the cephalic vein back up to his shoulder. “I guess you’re right, my veins do stand out.” “Yes, Sir, they do.” “Do you like that?” “Oh yes. You’re arms are amazing, and the veins just emphasis how powerful they are.” “What about my chest?” Sir motioned his hands towards himself. “I may have forgotten how impressive your bare chest is…” I said with a smirk. “Let me remind you. And then you can tell me what you think.” Sir reached for the bottom hem of his vest and with one movement pulled it up and over his head, tossing it to the foot of the bed. Then, with a slight turn, he dropped forwards on to his hands and started pushing out press ups. After a few minutes he leapt up, his chest flushed and pumped, before hitting several variants of most muscular pose. “You’re chest is huge. I can’t believe the definition. I could fit my forearm in the gap between them, and you’d still be able to crush it. I love seeing the mass of muscle clinging to your chest jump to solid attention at your command.” I was enjoying being a bit more verbal with Sir, and he was clearly enjoying it too. His pecs weren’t the only thing jumping to attention as I praised him. Sir grinned as he brought his hands up behind his head and crunched his abs. I took the invitation to start discussing them. “Your whole torso looks like it’s been sculpted from my wet dreams. Your abs remind me of the climbing wall, I bet I could hang from them. And your obliques, well they are like a runway guiding me down to the monster in your pants.” And boy was that monster awake and hungry! The bulge in his shorts was ridiculous. And his wasn’t the only painfully hard erection in the room. With a bit of a grunt Sir stood straight again. He was panting heavily, like a bull about to charge. I could see in his eyes he was fighting control. He took the two steps over the the bed and picked me up by the tshirt, both fists clenching the neck. “Time to undress.” He said, and pulled his hands apart. The collar of my t-shirt gave way and my t-shirt tore right down the middle. Sir gave a last last tug at the bottom hem. He turned me around and ferociously pulled the destroyed shirt off my back whilst pushing me face first in to the bed. His hands were immediately on the waistband of my shorts as he started pulling them off me, almost taking me off the bed at the same time. In a few seconds my socks and shoes were thrown over Sir’s shoulders, along with my shorts. I was now wearing nothing but the white jock strap, half hanging off his bed, arse on full display. Almost as soon as my feet hit the floor, I felt Sir lunge in to me, his hands grasping on to my thighs, his face pressing up against my crack with such force that my own face was pressed in to the mattress. He started kissing and licking all around my hole, his teeth grazing along my cheeks. I was rock hard, leaking precum again, as I spread my legs, allowing for better access. Sir gave a playful bite on the inside of my right cheek before abruptly stopping and standing back. “Stand up” he commanded. It took me a second to catch my breath, and convince my legs to bear my weight again. When I stood and turned around, Sir was standing in a double biceps pose, legs open and slightly bent. At some point he had removed his shorts and was also naked apart from a neon green designer jock. This guy clearly had a fetish for them, and I wondered how many I’d get to see on his statuesque frame. His hole body was flexed. Each head of his quads clearly defined from the next. His biceps showing short valley between the two muscles before one overlapped the other. His pecs overhanging the deep grooves of his abdominals. “You said you could climb me… go for it.” Sir smirked and winked at me. My eyes widened as I took it all in - this sexual climbing frame. I started in front of him on my knees, reached up and tucked my fingers between his first and second row of abs. Sir relaxed a little and once my fingers were in place he tensed again. Although it wasn’t a deep hand hold for climbing purposes, I knew my fingers weren’t coming out until he relaxed again. I pulled myself up, my feet tucked behind me, and I was amazed I could hang off him like this. I let my chest slide up over his engorged package, and I could feel dampness of his precum as well. Sir moaned as I rubbed my body along his confined erection, he was clearly enjoying this as much as I was. Now with my two arms flexed, I rested some weight on my left elbow digging it in to his obliques. I would have found this uncomfortable, but Sir coped with it easily with his superior size and strength, I would have to jump on his tensed stomach before it bothered him. I started trying to ease the fingers of my right hand out from between his abs. As I thought, they were in there pretty tight. Sir shifted slightly, leaning himself to his right, and loosening his grip on my hand, without relaxing his whole stomach. I freed my hand, shook my fingers out a bit and reach a little higher to the mighty overhang of his pecs. I placed my finger tips above his nipples, my knuckles folded over them to get the best grip, and pulled myself up. As I ascended his body, Sir relaxed his abs enough for me to move my left hand up to his traps. I scaled this mountain of a man, pulling myself up to be face to face with him. “Wow,” Sir said cooly. “I thought you’d have stood on my thighs. You do continue to impress me, Wee Jock.” I grinned “I’m not done yet.” I pulled myself up over is left shoulder and then down his back. I gripped his thighs as I brought my legs around over the side of his neck, before tucking them under his arms. I tried to grip him with my thighs, but he was just too broad, and I couldn’t get purchase. Sir chuckled “Am I too big for you?” He lowered his arms and flexed his lats, trapping my lower legs, holding them firm. “Too big to conquer, but nothing’s too big to try.” I replied. With that I lowered myself down and pushed my hands between his thighs. Sir, yet again, obliged and shifted his stance, opening his legs wide enough for me to pass through. As I lowered myself under him, I could feel Sir begin to lessen his grip on my calves, allowing me to tug them free. But at that point I was face to face with his perfect, muscular arse, exposed by his neon green jock strap. I gently bit his right cheek. Sir gave a gasp, and immediately tightened his grip on my lower legs. I continued my traverse around his body, reaching my hands under and around his thighs. I kept kissing and nibbling his perfectly formed gluteals. As I reached my arms through his legs, hooking on to his thighs, Sir squatted slightly in order to open his legs up for my passage. I started moving myself between his legs, like ships passing under the great Colossus of Rhodes, but as I passed, my face came across his hole. I couldn’t help myself. I ran my tongue along the sensitive tissue adjacent to it. Sir gave a sharp intake of breath and he jolted upright, inadvertently trapping my head between his thighs; his grip on my ankles simultaneously tightened. “Woah!” Sir exclaimed. I couldn’t help myself, I darted my tongue out again, running it three hundred and sixty degrees around his tight hole. “Nnnng… that’s not something I…” my tongue ran directly over his hole, tasting the sweat from the work out. Sir’s grip on my skull tightened slightly; I started massaging his right thigh with my left hand whilst I kept my tongue working on his hole. I squirmed my right arm through a bit more so that I could reach up and start massaging his turgid cock. I could feel a damp patch of precum seeping up at the head of his shaft. Sir’s breathing got heavier. After a few deep breaths, I could feel Sir grabbing hold of my left ankle. With a swift shift of weight, he was holding my ankles in his armpit and hand, and his right arm was now reaching between his legs, and grabbing my right upper arm. He then released my ankles and pulled me up by my right arm, pulling me between his legs, stabilising me with his now free left hand. It was all very quick, causing a head rush. One second I was upside down, hanging on to Sir’s amazing body, rimming his arsehole; and the next I was being held like a doll in front of Sir’s face, dizzy and disorientated. “I don’t remember instructing you to do that.” Sir said with stern expression. “I couldn’t help myself…” “That’s not something I allow.” “You didn’t seem to find it to objectionable?” Sir grinned, tumbled me upside down and brought my knees over the back of his head, my own exposed hole close to his mouth he said in his low, deep voice: “I am in control. Your hole is mine. And you will suck what I tell you to suck.” Sir crunched his abs, bringing my head down on his over packed crotch, the neon green fabric damp and stretched. “Now suck it!” Sir shouted before driving his mouth in to my arse, my erect cock, trapped within the white jock pouch, rubbing in the grooves between his pecs. I obeyed Sir’s command, opening my mouth and started to mouth and kiss the engorged cock within the jock. I added my saliva to the precum soaking in to the fabric around his mushroom head and worked down his shaft to his large balls. All the while Sir’s tongue was lapping at my hole. “I said suck it! Not kiss it!” Rather than pulling the jock down, I pulled the fabric aside, exposing only his head. I licked at his frenulum and around the corona, spreading his juices, before pushing my puckered lips against his tip. I applied pressure and Sir flexed harder, slowly thrusting his hips forwards and up, pushing his cock against my mouth. As the pressure increased, my lips parted and slowly he entered my mouth, his flared head popping over my tight lips. I pulled the jock further to the side and started bobbing my head back and forth along his shaft, getting about half way along with each descent. Sir held me right up to his mouth, slurping at my hole as if it were an ice cream on a hot day. His tongue running around, and across my now eager hole. His throbbing member filled my mouth, as I grabbed hold of the shaft, desperately trying to fit more and more in to my throat. But due to our height difference, I couldn’t get any more in whilst my hole was against his lips. My own cock forced between his pecs, leaving my sticky juices against his sternum. When I reached down and gave Sir’s balls a tug, he came up for air and growled. He allowed my body to drop on to his shaft, my nose touching the sift skin of his ballsack, and he stood up straight. “Suck.” He commanded. I was enjoying the more verbally domineering side of him. “Yes, Sir!” I shouted as I caught a breath before diving back on to his rigid cock. Sir raised and lowered my body, once again using me as if I were an animate sex toy. I could feel my throat descend on to his head over and over again, causing me to produce copious amounts of saliva. His own fluids mixed with mine, as they coated his shaft, and dripped down his balls. I could feel the blood pulling in my head, and the pressure building the longer I was being pumped upside down. After a few minutes I made a very loud gasp as I disengaged from his cock. Sir kept up the rhythm for two more pumps, his rock hard, slippery dick poking me in the face, until he seemed to come out of his trance. Sir turned and threw me down on to the bed, arse over tit. It was forceful, but controlled. I was lying on my back, head towards him, overhanging to bed. Sir stepped back for a second, took off his now soaking neon jock and stood up, stroking his huge erection as he took a few swagger steps towards me. He stood over me, both hands stroking his cock at once, flexing his pecs. He had to lean over so that I could see his face. “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” I obeyed. Sir took one more step forwards and lay his large, lime sized balls on my tongue. He didn’t have to ask, I started lapping at them, whilst he stroked himself. Sir started moaning and giving me encouragement. “Oh yeah. Lick them. Suck on my balls.” I opened and and took one of them in to my mouth, giving a gentle suck as he pulled away. “Uh!” He grunted encouragingly as it popped out my mouth. Sir grabbed his stiff cock again, tapping the side of my face with it. “Open wide.” I obeyed. Sir’s large, wet head touched my lips briefly before withdrawing again, leaving a trailing strand of precum between my mouth and his tip. He broke the strand with his right index finger and then placed that finger on my tongue. I started sucking on his finger. “I said open wide.” I could barely open my mouth before Sir thrust his cock deep in to my throat. He placed a hand on either side of my head and pulled me back slightly so that my head was hanging off the bed a little more. My throat and mouth now formed a straight line and whilst holding my head, Sir thrust harder and harder in to my throat, without withdrawing enough for me to breathe. He was grunting so hard I didn’t think he’d notice that I was struggling to catch my breath. I started gagging, I started grabbing at Sir’s wrists whilst trying to shake my head out of his grasp. It felt like minutes, but I know it was only took a few seconds for Sir to let go of my head, grab my wrists, and withdraw his long shaft from my mouth. I gasped for a few deep breathes. Whilst I was recovering, Sir pulled me off the bed, flipped me over and threw me back on the bed, chest down. I felt his broad, hard, body press against my back. Sir leant in and whispered in my ear. “I am in complete control. I know just how far to push you, Wee Jock. And judging by how hard you’re straining that jock, I know you’re enjoying it. Aren’t you, Wee Jock?” I nodded my head. “Answer me!” Sir commanded before grasping my left earlobe in his teeth and tugging so that my head twisted. “Yes, Sir!” I exclaimed in between pants. “I’m yours to use.” Sir let go of my ear. “Please, use me.” “Oh, I’m going to use you alright.” Suddenly I was being pulled back to the edge of the bed, my painfully hard dick dragging underneath me. Sir gripped me by the upper thighs, pulling me to the edge, and lifting my arse up at the same time. “On your knees. No, chest on the bed.” He pushed my back down, putting some of his weight in to. I pushed my arse up, presenting myself to him. “Spread your legs, show me that hole. Yeah, that’s it. That hole is mine.” “It’s yours Sir,” my voice slightly muffled by the mouth full of sheets. “Take it.” Sir let go of my back, I could feel him rubbing his cock against my cheeks. He must have been dripping with pre, as the next thing I felt was one wet finger circling my hole. An involuntary moan escaped my lips as I arched my back more, presenting my eager hole to my commander. I could hear rustling behind me whilst Sir started probing me with one finger. After around a minute Sir withdrew his finger and I felt a dollop of cold lube being dropped down my crack. I could feel his head running up and down my cleft before being pushed against my hole. Sir started applying pressure. When about half of his head was in, he grabbed the waistband of my jock with both hands, pulling it tight. “You better hold on.” I didn’t have to see his face to know that he would have a cocky grin on his face. With one steady movement, Sir sank his monster cock in side me until I could feel his thighs against mine. After a brief pause, as if to emphasis the fact that he was balls deep in me, he then started pulling back and thrusting back in to me. He wasn’t kidding when he told me to hold on. I had to brace my arms against the bed, and Sir was using my waist band to pull me back almost as much as he was thrusting in. The sound of our flesh slapping against each other was punctured by Sir’s grunts and my panting. Each trust was filling me, almost forcing the wind out my lungs, causing my to struggle with my breath almost as much as when he had been skull fucking me. I kept sliding up the bed with the power of Sir’s thrusts. And Sir kept having top pull me back on to his cock. A few minutes in, he let go of my waist band, hooked his hands under my armpits and with his enormous erection still inside me, picked me up. He walked me across the room and almost threw me against the wall. My face and chest were pressed hard against the wall and I braced my arms against it. Sir started thrusting in to me again, and as I pushed my arms back to get a bit of room, he grabbed my left arm, brought it round my back and held it there, putting his weight in to me, so that once again I was caught between the solid wall and the pounding of his body. He held my forearm just below the point of pain, but he still had complete control. His right hand gathered up the waist band of my jock again, using it to control my hips like the reigns of a horse. Sir’s rhythm got faster and harder. I could feel the pressure in my prostate building, the precum now dripping down my confined shaft and balls. I knew it wouldn’t be long until I came. I kept trying to vocalise it, but I was panting so hard I couldn’t form the words. I made ungodly noise between a moan, a grunt and a yelp as I shot load after load in to my now stretched out jock. After about the fifth spasm of climax, Sir pulled out and almost dropped me to the floor. I don’t know if it was intentional, but my legs couldn’t bear my weight. Once I was on my knees, he spun me round with one hand, the other I saw quickly pulling off the condom and throwing it to the other side of the room. His fists became a blur as he furiously wanked himself off. During those few short seconds I could see his pecs and abs clenching as he pumped his mighty shaft. Sir started making gasping noises himself, his abdominals seemed to spasm of their own accord twice before the hot white liquid started spurting out of his flared head. Although I was a few feet away from him by this point, it still landed on my upturned face. I instinctively opened my mouth and extended my tongue. Ropes of cum were now landing on my face and body. After Sir’s ecstasy had subsided he seemed to regain control of his body again and smiled as he looked at me: on my knees, still with my mouth open and tongue out. I must have been covered in his jizz. He extended a hand towards my face and rubbed thumb over my cheek, gathering up a huge dollop of cum. He then placed his thumb in my mouth and on to my tongue. Remembering my instructions from earlier, I fought the urge to suck his thumb clean. “Good lad, you take direction well.” He wiped his thumb on my tongue, and withdrew his hand. “Now hit the shower.” Sir waved in the direction of the en suite before walking to the bed and slumping down on it softening erection slapping against his abdomen, still extending past his belly button. I stumbled in to the bathroom. I braced myself on the sink and took a few deep breathes to gather myself before standing up straight and looking at myself in the mirror. I was covered in cum. I grinned at myself, before peeling off the stretched white jock strap. I showered off, half expecting Sir to join me, but he didn’t. I grabbed one of the enormous white towels to dry myself off and wrap around my waist before going back in to the bedroom. Sir was still lying on the bed, looking half asleep as I went to collect my backpack from the hall. “Where do you think you’re going?” Sir asked. “I was going to get my bag. I’ve got a change of clothes in it.” Wait, were we about to do round two? Was I going to be allowed to sleep over and we could go at it again in the morning? “I don’t think so.” Sir started to stand up. He picked up the neon green jock he had been wearing, his vest and shorts. “You think I don’t know you took my underwear?” I felt the blood drain from my face. I opened my mouth to try to speak, but couldn’t think what to say to make it sound any better. “Since you like wearing you like wearing my clothes so much, you should wear these home.” Sir handed me the clothes he had been wearing. “Um… ok. I’m sorry?” I took the bundle and pulled out the green jock. I wriggled it on under the towel before letting the towel drop. It fit pretty well - Sir may be massive, but his waist was small and trim. Next I put on his shorts and vest. They were a different story. I turned and looked at myself in the full length mirror. I looked like a child wearing hand me down clothes. The shorts hung to my knees. Sir’s thighs had stretched them tight, I could have had three or four of my legs in there and still had room. The vest hung from me, the neckline dropping past my chest, exposing my nipples. The sides that had gripped sirs lats swung like wing flaps on me. My reflection was both ridiculous and somehow arousing. It once again emphasised the difference between us. Sir came to stand behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders. “You can lick out my arse when you can fill those clothes. Until then I hope you settle for being the best fuck in Glasgow.” Sir said as he patted me on the shoulder and gestured towards the door. I was getting hard again. That was mighty praise indeed. I fumbled for my socks and shoes before heading out the house. “So will you text me again?” I dared ask before I left. “There’s not many out there that can take me, let alone let me pound them the way you do. That hole is mine. You’ll be hearing from me.” And with that he closed the door on me. But I still walked home with a spring in me step - after all I was the best fuck in Glasgow!
  3. Gman

    The Day I Became A Muscle Freak (Part 4)

    Great story. I love your writing.
  4. Gman

    Have You Seen These Posing Trunks?

    I’m loving this story!
  5. Gman

    Wee Jock

    Well it's been a longer delay than I'd like, but here's the next chapter. Apologies in advance, there's not actual sex in it, just a lot of flirtation, but it's really important for setting up a lot of fun things for future chapters. Any feedback welcome. Chapter 5 It had been an exciting week. Not only did I have new memories… fucking hot memories… to think about as I wanked off, but I had a promise that there would be more to come. I wasn’t checking my phone as obsessively as last time. He had told me that we’d be meeting again after a week, and I had no reason not to trust him. Instead I kept replaying our last two encounters over in my head, and when possible, in front of the mirror. It started when I came out of the shower. Normally I would get changed in the bathroom, for fear of my flatmate seeing me half naked. But I guess I hadn’t thought about it the morning after my last meeting with Sir. I walked through to my room, towel wrapped around my waist, my hair still damp. As I gathered some clean clothes I caught sight of myself in the full length mirror hanging on the back of my bedroom door. It was a better sight than I thought. It had been a long time since I’d seen myself like this. I was short, yes. I was thin, yes. But what I hadn’t really considered before was how toned I was. I had a six pack, and there was definition in my streamlined muscles. I guess running and climbing had produced a better shape than I had realised. I held up my right arm and flexed my bicep. That was when it hit me: I was standing in a towel, flexing, just like Sir the first time I met him. I liked the thought. I reached up my left hand to feel my flexed bicep. It was small, but it was tight and hard. It wasn’t a ball of muscle by any stretch of the imagination, but there was a definite cut where the muscle ended. And it was firm. I liked it! I started flexing, just like Sir did. I watched myself posing in the mirror, imagining I had the massive proportions of the behemoth I had been worshiping the night before. I got hard quickly, and not long in to the posing session I had dispensed with the towel and was furiously beating off, my eyes roaming over my own reflection until I came all over the mirror. What a great way to start the day. The next time I put on my one and only shirt and tie, with dress trousers. I stood in front of the mirror. “You know Wee Jock, well dressed men are to be shown respect in this house.” I said to myself as I started rubbing the outline of my dick as it grew down my trouser leg. I imagined being large and muscular, with a small man like myself on his knees sucking me off. I remembered being the small man on his knees worshiping the god in front of me. My imagination flicked back and forth. I fished my cock out of my fly and slowly stroked myself off, precum dripping from my head, and once more ejaculating over my own reflection. Half way through the week I decided to take it a little further. I dug out an old action figure from a box under my bed. I stood in front of the mirror, naked and erect, holding the small, plastic, muscular man in my hands in front of me. “Do you trust me, Wee Jock?” I said in a whisper. I would wrap my hands around my cock and the doll at the same time, wanking myself with my miniature stand in for myself. “Do you like watching these muscles fuck you, Wee Jock?” I said as I thrust my hips forwards, my abs flexing over and over again until I shot my load. My mirror had never been cleaned so often! Twice that week I went to work wearing Sir’s underwear. They were slightly too big for me, but I loved the feel of the slick material against my balls. The other times I wore the jocks he had supplied me with. I realised I was really earning the name Sir had given me. On Thursday evening I got a message from Sir: “6pm tomorrow. Corner of Great Western and Park Road. Work out gear.” Well this was different. The location wasn’t too far from his flat. I’d have to leave early from work, but I was owed some overtime. But the work out gear? Why would he want me to wear work out gear? Maybe he wanted to go for a run with me? I told him I went running in our online chats before we met up. Maybe he wanted to see me work up a sweat before we worked one up together? The thought of watching his pecs bounce as he ran got me hard. His thighs suddenly tensing as they took his weight. I bet he wore those tiny, shiny running shorts highlighting his glutes. Fuck! His cock! It would be bouncing about. Oh this was going to be good! I couldn’t get through Friday fast enough. I had changed in to my work out gear before leaving work. I was wearing the white jock Sir had provided me with, shorts and a sweat wicking tshirt under my jacket. I arrived at the designated corner at 5:50pm and waited, it was a busy corner, lots of students walking past. Loads of buses and cars using the main road out of town. Just seconds after 6 o’clock, a stylish, sporty looking car stopped in the slow traffic. I recognised it as a BMW, but I don’t know enough about cars to know the model, I just know that for someone who doesn’t find cars that interesting, this was a sexy car. The horn went twice and the window came down. “Wee Jock, get in!” A few people had stopped to look at this car and they all turned to look at me as I trotted between the parked cars and in to the passenger seat. Jesus the seat is low. It felt like I was being hugged. As soon as I was in Sir pulled off again. “Glad to see you again, Wee Jock. I’ve got a wee treat for you planned.” He put his hand on my thigh and gave it a little squeeze before returning his hand to the wheel. I looked over to see his giant frame bulging out over the seat. His left shoulder was pretty much in the middle of the car. “It’s not often I meet someone for a second time, let alone a third.” “I’m honoured, Sir.” I couldn’t think what else to say. “Well it’s not many guys can handle me the way you do. For a wee guy, you can certainly… accommodate a big man like me.” He glanced at me and grinned. I had to shift in my seat to adjust my swelling dick. “What can I say? A man of your size makes me want to put in the extra effort.” I was going red. I haven’t had to make conversation with Sir before. It didn’t take us too long to get a little out the city and up to a golf club. “We’re here.” Sir stated as he pulled up. He got out the car, grabbed a water bottle from the boot, and started walking in to the building. We entered the ‘fitness suite’ portion of the building. Sir pressed a fingerprint recognition button, letting us in. “I thought you might like to work out with me this evening.” The thought of watching Sir use those big muscles made me blush. This is much better than a run. “Yes, Sir, I would.” Just as we passed through the door, Sir paused and turned to me. “As you can see, this is an upmarket place. I expect you to behave… at least until we leave.” He winked. “Yes, Sir!” I followed him in to the empty changing room. Sir was right, this was upmarket! The lockers weren’t even lockers, they were open, full length compartments. People’s clothes and towels were just hanging there on full display. There were upholstered chairs in the corners, benches in the centre, and along one wall there was a row of mirrors with hairdryers and straighteners lying on the bench before it. There was even carpet! I looked around, making sure there wasn’t anyone else here before I spoke out of turn. “Wow, this is much posher than the gym at uni!” Sir laughed. “Aye, no students around here.” He continued through the changing rooms, past the showers to the left and a sauna and steamroll to the right, before entering the gym floor. It wasn’t a big place, but it was clean and the equipment was new. There weren’t many people in it, and most of them were using the cardio machines. There was a couple of men and one woman using the weight machines, and the small free weight area was empty. Sir sat down on the second rowing machine and told me to warm up. Sir flicked the resistance to it’s highest setting and started pulling away. I too put it too the highest setting, and went for it. I was managing to keep up with him stroke for stroke… for the first two minutes, but I soon fell behind. There was no competition for distance anyway. My much shorter limbs meant that if we were in real boats, he would have been half way to Dublin before I even left the Clyde estuary. After five minutes, Sir re-hooked his handles. “Best stop there Wee Jock, this is just the warm up.” I was already sweating and breathing heavily. “I thought I’d be… better at the cardio… I run a lot.” My chest heaved whilst I tried not to look too out of breath. “And when was the last time you were on a rower?” “Never.” “Well, you’ve done no bad today then. It’s all about what your body is use to.” He gestured towards the free weights area. “Lets get to why we’re here.” The free weights area was set off from the rest of the gym. Still open plan, but there was a definite demarkation due to shock absorbent flooring. I trailed behind Sir, not wanting to enter. I knew it was stupid, but I really didn’t feel like I belonged there. If someone saw me in there, they’d know I didn’t lift weights. Skinny guys like me run, we don’t lift weights. I had no idea what to do with them, and I didn’t want to embarrass myself. Sir strode in to the middle of the floor and turned around, starting to talk, but stopped when he saw I wasn’t behind him. “You coming, Wee Jock?” He beckoned me over with a gesture of his hand. “You look terrified.” “I’m just not use to this.” I said, waving my hands at the dumbbells. “Use to the gym?” “No, the rest of the gym I’m ok with. I just don’t know what to do here.” Sir grinned and bent over, putting his mouth close to my ear. He quietly said “I assumed a wee lad like yourself, who loves muscle so much, would be more comfortable with where that muscle was built. After all, you didn’t seem to mind rubbing your hands all over the products this factory makes.” He stood up and brought his right hand up to run his fingers through his hair. When his arm was at it’s zenith, he paused, flexed his bicep and winked at me. I immediately blushed, and got hard. It was going to be difficult to behave myself like Sir had instructed. “Now, since this is your first time, I’ll let you pick what you want me to work on. Top half, or bottom half?” Wow, I hadn’t considered being asked for an opinion. Top half would let me see those arms in action, and his chest! But that arse doing squats would be… “Wee Jock!” Sir snapped his fingers in front of my face. I must have glazed over. I looked at him, his arms now folded in front of his large chest, highlighting the size of his pecs and biceps. “Top half!” “Good choice. I’ll not be going heavy today, since I have the feeling you won’t be too keen to spot me.” Sir smiled, and I was relaxed by his little joke. It was an odd work out. I spent most of my time watching Sir, and adding weights. Lifting the various weights was certainly a good work out for me. I wouldn’t say I was particularly weak, it’s just that he was lifting so much! And this wasn’t even heavy for him! He started with supersets explaining about working opposing muscles at the same time. He started with bent over rows, using one of the two barbells in the gym, and dumbbell flies. Watching him pull the barbell up to his chest, the ‘Y’ of his vest allowing me a great view of all those back muscles contracting in unison, his biceps balling up, and then controls the decent over and over again. It was hypnotising. When he lay on the bench I enjoyed watching his arms under tension as he brought the dumbbells around in their slow, controlled arc. The second time he did this set, he told me to stand at his head, and suddenly I saw why. At this angle, I got a very good view of his chest cleavage, of the pecs contracting and tensing. I could see the scalloped edge where they attached to his sternum, and I imagined running my hands through through the ravine… no my face! I longed to feel his strong muscles compressing my face as I tried to lick the sweat from him. “Might want to adjust yourself, Wee Jock.” I was bulging in a very obvious way. I turned and adjusted myself. When I turned back, I noticed that Sir was also hard, and making no attempt to hide it himself. He caught me looking, grinned and shrugged. Sir suggested I have a go. I started stumbling my words before Sir placed some seven kilo dumbbells in my hands and told me to just do it. “You’ve been watching me. Take the stance and do the bent over rows.” I lent over and lifted the weights. Sir put one hand on the small of my back and the other on my shoulder, adjusting my form. “Keep that back straight” he said. “Squeeze your shoulder blades together at the top. That’s it.” I could only manage about eight reps before having the put the weights down. “Now on to the flies” he gestured towards the bench. I sat down and he handed me the weights again. I lifted them towards my chest and lay down. I tried to lift them above me and struggled. “Slow down there.” Sir took hold of my wrists and brought the weights up in to position above me. Then helped guide them down down to either side. I was glad of his assistance to get them up again. The weights pulled at my chest in a way I had never experienced before. After a few reps, Sir gently took his hands away, but followed my movements closely. I managed a few more reps before starting to wobble. Sir took control again for another two reps then took the weights out of my hands. “There you go. Now catch your breath whilst you watch me. Pay attention to my form. You’ll do better next time.” I nodded. I watched Sir with a critical eye, rather than my normal lustful gaze. I walked round him to get views from different angles. When it was my turn again, I picked up the weights with a determination not to have to be corrected this time. I assumed the stance and started performing the reps. I noticed Sir walking around me, evaluating me the way I had just done him. I tried not to look directly at him, but straight down. “Head up, watch yourself in the mirror,” Sir instructed. I did, and it instantly made it easier for me to keep both arms at the same height, my elbows tucked in, my back straight. I had always assumed that bodybuilders were just admiring themselves whilst they worked out in front of the mirror, but now I saw why they did it. “Much better, Wee Jock, stop there.” I had reached eight reps again, struggling a little with the last one. We moved to the flies. I couldn’t watch myself this time, but as I started flies I tried not to allow my elbows to flex. It was really difficult. “Stop there.” Sir said as he took the weights out of my hands. I had only done two, really bad reps. Sir quickly replaced them with five kilo dumbbells. I could do the exercise much better this time, realising that previously I had been pushing the weights up, instead of raising them in an arc. I got another five reps with Sir guiding my hands to keep them in the right plain. “Much better form this time. Don’t ever be worried about reducing the weight. The most important thing is form. Get that right, and the weight will follow.” We carried on like this for about twenty minutes, moving on to Lateral pull downs, and lateral raises. When we started with the lateral pull downs, it took a few turns of Sir stopping and increasing the weight. He looked more and more impressed each time. “You’ve got a pretty strong back there, Wee Jock” he said whilst having a feel at my lats. “I climb sometimes.” I blushed. His praise whilst touching me had me tenting my shorts again. “For such a small guy, you’re packed full of surprises.” I waited the few seconds until he was finished running his fingers up and down my back, before standing, and making it fairly obvious I was adjusting myself. Sir grinned again and gave me a wink. The lateral raises were a different matter all together. I had to drop down to two kilo weights. They felt so light initially, but my shoulders quickly tired. Sir could see my embarrassment at dropping to the two’s. “Your only focus is form today.” He said before lifting thirty kilo dumbbells for a ridiculous number of reps. I looked around and realised that they were the heaviest ones here. I knew he’d be able to do more if he had the option. Watching his delts get pumped up reminded me of when he was holding me, sliding me up and down his huge cock. Oh shit, he was doing it again, that was pretty much my weight he was lifting. Now I knew he could keep going with this for long time if he wanted to. No wonder he looked so relaxed. I had chubbed up again, and I could feel precum soaking in to my white jock. “Wow, that thing just doesn’t relax, does it?” Sir grinned, whilst I blushed. He pushed his palms together, pointing down and flexed. His pecs bounced in to relief, the cults in his delts deepened, his triceps sprung up and my now painfully erect cock started leaking until a wet patch was visible in my, thankfully dark, shorts. Sir grinned even more “glad to know I’m having the desired effect.” He walked off to the cable machine which he started to set up for the next exercise. I yet again had to adjust myself before I followed him. Whilst Sir was adjusting the cables, a tall, young man entered the gym, walking directly towards the free weights area. He was even taller than Sir, but not as broad, like a swimmer that had discovered weight lifting in his early twenties. He was ginger, with a young face, I suspect he was only slightly older than I am, but much, much more built! I instantly became nervous. This guy was going to see I didn’t belong here. He’s going to figure out that I’m just a muscle pervert. He’s gorgeous, of course I’m going to look, and he’s not going to like that. Oh my god, I’ve got a wet patch on my groin, he’s going to know I’m checking him out and then he’s going to beat me up. Fuck, fuck, fuck! The tall ginger man was checking his phone, he looked up at me and after a second his face broke in to a beaming smile. What was going on? “Long time no see!” The giant ginger said in a deep Irish accent. What was he talking about? I’ve never seen him before in my… oh, his gaze is clearly a lot higher than my face. “Red! How you doing? Looking good!” Sir said as he stepped around me, hand out to take this other-giant’s hand. “I’m grand, thanks! You must be keeping yoursel’ busy; I’ve not seen you in ages. Clearly takin’ care o’ business I see.” He gestured a hand up and down Sir’s large frame. “Aye, I’ve got a lot going on just now, but I’m not giving up on all this.” Sir swept his arms round and struck a pose with his left arm slightly bent, high in the air, his right arm flexing his bicep. It was clearly a practiced body building pose. The ginger giant gave a little laugh and a gentle shove on the shoulder. “Knock it off. What you working on today?” “I’m showing my mate around the gym, we’re doing some upper body work today.” Sir looked around and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Red, this is Wee Jock; Wee Jock, this is Red.” “Oh, hey there bud.” Red stepped towards me, holding his hand out. I took it, having to hold my hand about shoulder height for him to take it. I looked up at him. He was taller than Sir! His frame was a bit narrower, but it was packed with cut muscle. His shoulders budged hugely. He was careful when he shook my hand, as if he’d been told off too many times for his crushing grip. He smiled warmly at me. He didn’t have the rugged, handsomeness that Sir had, but he was cute. “Hello. Well, I’m going to step over here. I’m afraid standing between you too giants might be a bit dangerous.” Both men laughed. “Right, come on, Wee Jock, we best get back to work.” Sir said. Red gave a small salute and went off to the squat rack. We set about doing cable flies, as Sir wanted to ‘hit our chests one more time.’ We moved back to the free weights area and Sir handed me the five kilo dumbbells again, and he loaded up the remaining bar bell with what looked like forty kilos on each side. He picked it up and stood next to me, and then started doing bicep curls with it! His arms immediately blew up. The veins started engorging as he pumped his arms over and over again. “Lift, Wee Jock” he said between reps. I shook my self out of my stupor and started curling the dumbbells he had given me. “Flex at the top of the rep” he instructed, and as I did I felt the burn. I managed ten reps comfortably and put the weights down for a break. Sir put the hundred kilo barbell down, and after a little huff of breath asked “Why’d you stop, you were managing fine?” “I did ten reps. Shouldn’t I stop?” “We’re going to go to failure on the next set.” We both took a drink of water and waited a bit. Red was grunting close by as he squatted low. His tracksuit pants slipping down around his arse, showing the logo’d band of a designer jock strap. Once I saw it, I turned to look at Sir, who was watching the squat himself. He realised I had clocked him eyeing up Red’s arse and gave me a wink. “You ready for the next one. Try to keep pace with me. Slow up, squeeze at the top, and slowly control the decent. Straight in to the next rep, don’t pause at the bottom. Keep your form, don’t swing with your back. Keep your elbows in. Ready? Lets go.” We each picked up our weights and started curling. We got to ten fairly quickly, and I was still reasonably comfortable. I enjoyed watching myself and Sir working out together in the mirror. By copying his movements, I could almost pretend the behemoth’s reflection was my own, as I felt my muscles do what he was doing. As we got over fifteen reps, I started making a bit of noise exhaling on each lift. Red had paused his squats and was now blatantly watching the pair of us. Well… watching Sir at least. I got to eighteen reps before I started to struggle, and started swaying with my back. Sir was obviously watching me, he saw straight away and told me to stop. He carried on for another couple of reps, saying “Back steady, squeeze at the top, control down, back up, squeeze at the top…” putting great emphasis on the form for me. “That’s a good number of reps you’re lad’s gettin’ out there.” Red commented. “Aye, he’s got a surprising amount of strength for pull work. He climbs.” Red seemed impressed. Sir continued “He’s got great stamina as well.” Red cocked an eyebrow at this and turned to look at me. “Is that so?” Although he was looking at me, I wasn’t sure who the question was directed at. He seemed to be looking me over. “Mind if I join the pair of you? This looks like a fun game.” Before I could say anything, Sir gestured to my opposite side “be our guest.” Red unloaded some of the weight off the barbell he was squatting with, and moved it so that I was flanked by the two muscled mountains. We stood in a line, facing the mirror. The giants with their hundred kilo barbells, and me with a tenth of that between two dumbbells. We each picked up our weight and started lifting in unison. Looking in the mirror I couldn’t help but get turned on at being sandwiched between these two powerful men. Sir’s arms were already enjoying a good pump, and as I watched, Red’s arms started swelling as well, the already prominent vein defending down his long arms was beginning to widen. With each pump, Red’s pale face got a little redder as he screwed up his face with the effort of keeping up with Sir. I lost count of the reps whilst I took in the sites around me, but I started swaying a bit as Red’s grunts got a little louder. Sir again called a halt. Red put down his barbell and started breathing heavily, checking out his arms in the mirror. Sir gave a gentle laugh. “Well, Wee Jock, now you can see where Red got his name from.” I had just assumed it was due to his ginger hair, but during the set his face had flushed bright red. Red gave a mock-angry growl towards Sir, and then to me when I gave a short laugh. “I can’t help it man! I’m so pale, I turn red with exercise and blue with cold. If I walk infant of a bright light you can see my heart beating.” I laughed a bit more after that. “Were you watchin’ your lad at the end of that last set?” Red asked Sir. “Aye.” “Did you see what I saw?” “Clearly not.” Sir sounded intrigued. “Go another round, will ye, Wee Jock?” Red asked. I wasn’t sure how Sir would react to me taking instructions from another man. What a weird thought. He didn’t own me. But he had brought me here, and I didn’t know the etiquette. I looked at him and he nodded his approval. I picked up the weights and started lifting again. Red moved around to my right again, and with the two of them focusing all their attention on me, I tried to focus as hard as I could on good form. After about five or six reps Red piped up “there it is.” I turned my head to look at each of them who were staring at my arms and not catching my eye. I kept going. “Oh yeah. That’s amazing. Keep going, Wee Jock.” Sir said giving me an encouraging pat on the back. I had no idea what they were on about, neither of them were catching my eye, but when I looked in the mirror, both these giant muscle men were leaning over, their faces getting closer and closer to my upper arms. The attention was getting to me, I was getting both aroused and flustered. “Hold right there!” Sir commanded when I was lowering the weights. I held them about ninety degrees. Red gently ran a finger down the centre of my right bicep, the feeling gave my goose bumps and hardened my erection. “Nice vein you’ve got there, Wee Jock! That’s quite a pump you’ve got on you.” Red exclaimed. “Packed with surprises.” Sir said slowly as he too had a feel of my bicep. I was reeling in the attention. This was more than a fantasy. To have these two men admire my body, even with these mild compliments, was amazing. But the weight was too heavy and my arms too tired. I started to shake and made an embarrassing noise as I lowered the weight and put them on the floor. Sir picked them up and back on the stand. “Time for us to head now.” Sir said to Red. “You guys hitting the sauna?” “Not this time. See you around.” Sir gave Red a little wave and placed his hand on the back of my neck as he guided me back out the gym. “Good job today, Wee Jock. You’ve impressed me. Lets see if you can keep this momentum going back at mine?”
  6. Gman

    Wee Jock

    Great to know it’s doing the trick 😁
  7. Gman

    Wee Jock

    Chapter 4 I stood in his bedroom, wearing nothing but the red jockstrap that Sir had supplied. My chest was heaving as I tried to catch my breath. Sir entered the room completely naked, his massive erection pointing the way. He dominated the doorway, his shoulders almost touching both sides at once. I noticed he had to duck his head slightly as he passed through the threshold. He too was catching his breath. He walked over to me, lent far down to my right and placed both hands on my hips. Before I knew what was going on he had stood back up again, taking me with him; turning me around so that he was holding me in the air, upside down. “Open your legs.” Sir instructed. As the blood rushed to my head and I caught my bearings I did as I was told. No sooner had I opened my legs did I feel Sir’s face push through them. He started licking the exposed part of my taint, biting on the inner surface of my cheeks, teasing my roughly. I opened my legs further, bringing my knees down over each of his shoulders, using the purchase to push my hole closer to his exploring mouth. I was greeted by his expert tongue running rings around my anus. My erection pushing in to the cleavage of his pecs. I made some kind of affirmative noise I had no control over. I couldn’t believe he was standing there, holding my entire weight as if it was nothing, and giving me the best rim of my life. All the while I was hanging there burrowing my face in to his abs. It was then that I realised his warm cock was pushed up against my ear. I put both hands on his hips to steady and position myself, before sucking and slurping on his cock head for all I was worth. Sir gripped me firmer, burrowing himself into my hole with a ravishing greed. I had never even known a vertical sixty-nine was possible, let alone sustainable for so long. He must have heald me there for over five minutes. My hole ached to be filled, but I didn’t want my mouth to become empty again. I could feel my pulse in my eyes and ears. The world was beginning to go fuzzy at the edges of my vision. But I didn’t care, as long as I still could see him; as long as I could still feel his hard muscles beneath his taught skin; as long as I could taste him in my mouth. Sir pulled himself away from my eager hole and raised his hands above his head slowly. The sadness from feeling his cock pop out of my mouth was replaced by the awe of the slowly moving landscape before my eyes. The foothills of his abs passing by to become dwarfed by the mountains of his pecs. The journey’s joyful conclusion was his smiling, inverted face, but it suddenly started looking a bit concerned. “Looking a wee bit red there, Wee Jock. Time to get you right side up again.” He continued to lift me a bit higher, but mostly backwards and to my right. He adjusted my weight so that I was placed over his right shoulder. He adjusted the grip of his right hand, dropped his left and moved towards the chest of drawers as if he had just slung a towel over his shoulder rather than a grown man. I may not be tall or muscular, but I was still about nine stone! He opened the top drawer and pulled out a condom, a bottle of lube, and a small towel. “I’ve been wanting to try this since last time we met.” So he’s been thinking about me in between bootie calls. He rolled the condom down his long shaft. “When I picked you up so easily last time, I knew this would be fun.” A few pumps of lube on his covered cock, and then wiping his hands on the towel. “And holding you upside down has just proved I’ve got the strength and stamina for this.” I was excited and nervous, not only did what was about to come sound thrilling, but my whole body was being balanced on one of Sir’s enormous shoulders. “What are you planning?” I asked. He turned his face to look at me and grinned. “Do you trust me?” “Yes, Sir.” He placed a hand under each of my arms and lifted me again. I tucked my legs to clear his shoulders I was dangling in front of him, my back to him. He Adjusted his stance, and started to position me. I could feel his cock rubbing against my crack, so I opened my legs, hooking my feet around either side of his thighs. Sir thrust his hips, causing his head to rut up against my hole. I arched my lower back, positioning myself better for entry. I felt his massive dick find the sweet spot and he gently started lowering me down. There was a bit of pressure and suddenly he popped in. I inhaled sharply. The sudden expansion and filling was a bit of a shock. Sir paused for a second, holding me like a doll, his head inside me. I could feel his heavy breath against the back of my neck. I was grateful he could control himself so well. I silently nodded my head as I gritted my teeth, ready for the next stretch. With awesome control, he slowly lowered me down the thick shaft of his huge member. I moaned a loud exhale as I descended. I allowed my legs to slip further back, until the back of my thighs were resting on the front of his. I felt my cheeks press up against him and sighed. He hunched himself over and I felt him breath heavily in my ear “this is going to be fun.” He then caught my earlobe in his teeth and gave it a gentle tug. Fucking hell that was hot. He stretched his fingers, adjusting his grip on my rib cage and slowly raised me up his long glans. As I felt his cock head flare up against my hole, he allowed me to descend again. He repeated this over and over, gently increasing the rhythm. I was gliding up and down his shaft as if I were piston on his steel rod. He wasn’t thrusting in to me at all! It was as if he were using me to wank himself off. I was a human fleshlight, a sex toy. But the feeling of being in the hands of someone so strong that could use me that way was so hot. My cock was straining against my jock strap. I was leaking precum so fast I was amazed it wasn’t dripping on to the floor. I had no control. He was impaling me on his cock over and over again, and it was fantastic. My hands moved to cover his, my fingers gripping in between his. I wanted to hold them whilst they held me. With every downbeat and upbeat he was pushing against my prostate, I was groaning uncontrollably now, my head was thrown back and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. Sir’s rhythm paused for a second. I took a few deep breaths. But he shifted position, rotating his stance ninety degrees and resumed hammering me in to his pelvis. “Eyes front,” he said in between heavy breaths of his own. I had forgotten about the mirror. What a sight. My head was bobbing up and down, between the level of his chest and shoulders. His nipples coming in to view each time he filled me. His delts, bis and tris were pumped ridiculously. I had thought they were big before, but this was verging on obscene. They had been working flat out for what must be fifteen minutes by now. The muscles had swollen well beyond the proportions I had seen last time. The already large veins were dilated and had brought friends to the party. My tight little body was being thrown up and down this god’s enormous cock, his huge balls visible between my legs. The sight was too much for me to cope with. I could already feel my orgasm rising and this sent me over the top. I let out a groaning scream as thick globs of white cum started soaking through the red jockstrap and landing on the floor. “I’m not done with you yet.” Sir grinned at me. “Don’t let me stop you,” I panted. Sir slid his left forearm around my front, placing his open palm on the centre of my chest, he lowered my body forward and with his right hand gripped the back elastic of my jockstrap. I was being held at about forty-five degrees, impaled on his cock. The extra pressure around the straps of my underwear and the added tightness on my cock and balls left a pleasant tingling sensation in my tummy. I felt Sir shifting his weight beneath me, planting his feet firmly on the floor. He drew his pelvis back slowly and then thrust forwards. I flew away from him, gliding up his shaft before he caught me. The tightness on my jock increasing as he slammed me back down. He paused before repeating the action. Each time I returned to base camp I had to exhale as I felt the wind being knocked out of me, a grunt escaped me each time. After a few trial thrusts he developed a vigorous rhythm. The stimulation brought my erection back before it had a chance to fully deflate. Sir started grunting with each thrust as well. This was wild. He was wild. This was the most animalistic fucking I had ever received. And I wasn’t even touching the ground! I looked up at the mirror again, engrossed by the images I saw there. Sir’s powerful body was flexing and thrusting in to mine. His face was screwed up as he watched his cock spread me open time and time again. He looked up and our eyes met in the mirror. His mouth split in to a cocky smile and I knew he was enjoying himself just as much as I was. He maintained eye contact, watching my face as waves of pleasure crossed it with each thrust. Sir stopped. He slid his left arm further around my body, let go of my jock strap and grabbed my left armpit with his right hand. “Unhook your legs.” I obliged as he lifted me once more, twisting as he raised me. He brought me up to his face height, bringing me very close to him. He leaned forwards and I shut my eyes for a kiss. But I was left waiting a heartbeat too long until I felt his teeth against my neck. Not enough to leave a mark, but enough to distract me as he once again pushed his engorged cock inside me. As I slide down his shaft and body, I felt his strong fingers gripping around my small lats. I wrapped my legs around his torso and ran my hands as far up the enormous arms that had been holding me all evening. I moved my gaze towards Sir’s face and saw he was watching mine. When our eyes met he grinned once more before starting to lift me once again. This time I was being penetrated by his thrusting, as well as being raised up and down by his arms. Having such a close view of the muscles working to fuck me so hard was as erotic as the feeling of his massive cock filling me, brushing against my prostate over and over again. I wish I had longer arms so I could feel his flexing pecs and delts, but I happily settled for his swollen biceps. Sir’s granite body had developed a fine sheen of sweat, and his face was becoming a little red. The veins on his neck and temple were swelling to match those on his arms and shoulders. His grunts were getting heavier and I knew it wouldn’t be long until he came. “You have the muscles of a god, Sir!” His screwed up face flickered a little as if he were snapping back in to the room. His pupils dilated and he grinned his cocky smile again. He trust harder. “You like watching these muscles work?” He grunted between thrusts. “Yes, Sir. I love wat-ching you use your - muscles to fuck - me.” He trust harder, faster. “I’ve never - been fucked - so hard - in my life! Give me - everything you’-ve got!” With that he started slamming himself in to me. After three of these monster thrusts I started coming again. I swear even as a teenager I have never been able to recover so quickly. My body juddered, my head thrust backwards and I let out a loud roar. As the third wave of climax rolled over me, I heard Sir’s low, growl develop in to his own manly roar. I snapped my head forwards to look at him once more. His face read, his mouth open as he vocalised his own orgasm. His grip on my rib cage tightened to an almost uncomfortable level and even more veins started popping out along his arms, shoulders and chest. He kept pounding in to me and I could feel his cock swelling with each thrust, knowing that he was pulsing shot after shot of semen in to the already strained condom. After about seven powerful thrusts he started to relax and his rhythm became gentler. His breathing became heavier now that he could breath naturally rather than along with his thrusts. My own breathing was fast and shallow, I was slightly dizzy. Once I had become rested at the base of his cock for about half a minute, Sir stood straight and took a deep breath, his chest and shoulders swelling to their full capacity. A satisfied smile took over Sir’s face as he lifted me off of his still hard cock and placed me on the ground once more. He still held under my arms as he looked at me “well that was better than I imagined.” “It was beyond anything I have ever imagined before, Sir.” Sir went to let me go, but as soon as his hands moved, my legs gave way beneath me. Sir quickly caught me again putting me back on my feet. “Steady there. You alright, Wee Jock?” “I’ll be fine, Sir. I’m always a little light headed after a good fuck… and that was an excellent fuck.” “Hold on, I’ll get you a drink of water.” Sir perched me on the side of the bed and left the room. I took a second to gather myself. That was mind blowing. I didn’t touch the ground for over half an hour. I wish I was as strong as that. Sir returned with two glasses of water, his long, soft dick now slapping against each enormous thigh as he strode across the large room. “Thank you.” I took the glass and took a few big gulps. “You’re more than welcome. Why don’t you freshen up a bit and I’ll order a taxi?” “Good idea.” I wobbled over to the en suite. I splashed some cold water on my face and started feeling a bit more alert. When I returned to the bedroom Sir was wearing a pair of sexy designer briefs in flashy colours. His soft bulge was obscene in the confined space. “You feel any better?” “I’ve got my land legs back.” Sir chuckled softly. He held up his mobile. “Taxi will be here in a few minutes. If you think you’re ready, you best get dressed.” I agreed. He saw me to the door this time. As I started to gather my clothes from the porch cupboard, I noticed a pair of underwear that wasn’t there before. They were a pair of bright blue and purple boxer briefs, size - medium. I didn’t recognise the designer, but knew they must be expensive. I guessed he had ditched them before entering the house. I grinned. I slipped off the sodden red jockstrap, and slipped on Sir’s underwear. It was slightly too big for me. They gapped at the thighs that he had obviously stretched out, but I was doing a decent job of filling the pouch. I put the rest of my clothes back on, wrapping the jock strap inside the underwear I had worm on the way here, and stuffing them in my jacket pocket, just as I heard a car horn outside. Perfect timing. On the way home I received a text: “I’ll see you next week. That should be plenty of time for you to recover ;)” I got hard again.
  8. Gman

    Wee Jock

    Chapter 3: I spent several days checking my phone every fifteen minutes. Every time I received a text my pulse raced, sure it was Sir… it never was. I was willing contact so much that I occasionally felt phantom vibrations in my thigh. I was determined not to contact him. I knew he must get hit up all the time, and I didn’t want to appear too eager. I got the impression that if I came on too strong, he would vanish. I’d give him time. It was ten days before he contacted me. Ten days of replaying our muscle worship scene over and over again whenever I had the chance for my mind to wander. If I was lucky and at home, I would masturbate furiously. If I were at work, or on the bus, I’d have to snap out of the memory and try to hind my erection. The long awaited text said “Wee Jock! Same place, same rules, 8pm.” It was a little earlier this time, I wondered what that might mean. It was only 12:30pm, I had hours to wait and an afternoon of work to get through. I made myself busy to stop myself thinking about it. I knew I couldn’t work well with all my blood in my groin. I left work, got home to shower, shave and prepare myself. I knew not to worry much about what I wore this time. I booked a taxi for 7:30. When it arrived I was waiting outside, impatient to get to his house. After the taxi dropped me off, I approached the victorian front door once again, this time, although I was still nervous, the over-riding emotion was excitement. Once again there was a shoebox in the cupboard. Another jockstrap, red this time, and another note with a key: “Let yourself in and wait for me.” Sir obviously didn’t feel the need to instruct me on removing my clothing and putting on the jockstrap. Once suitably dressed, I let myself in to his home once again. The lights were off, and after some groping around I found the switch. I closed the door behind me, and took up my position in the middle of the square hallway. The clock on the left wall let me know I was around ten minutes early. There was no sign that Sir was at home. I wanted to have a look around but knew that at any moment he could emerge and I doubted I would be invited back if I wasn’t waiting in the hall as instructed. As I stood there the slight chill caused my nipples to become erect and my skin formed goose pimples. I heard movement behind me outside the front door. The storm door opened and closed. There was a delay of a few minutes. I could hear some shuffling, and the little cupboard in the porch opening and closing. After what felt like an hour, but must only have been two minutes, I heard the door unlock again and someone enter the hall. I remained frozen in place: facing away from the door, feet shoulder width apart, hands clasped behind me at my lower back, my bear cheeks displayed to whoever had entered. I hoped it was Sir, but the thought of it being another crossed my mind. “Well that is a nice sight to be welcomed home to.” Sir’s deep voice stirred something deep within my core. My heart started beating faster. I didn’t turn around. I didn’t speak. But my cheeks involuntarily flexed for a second. I heard footsteps behind me and then Sir’s hand ran down my back, over my right cheek and he groped it. A satisfied moan originated from high above me. I blushed at the thought that this adonis was pleased with my body. The reason I was hear was to worship him, it hadn’t occurred to me that he might enjoy looking or feeling my much smaller body. The footsteps retreated back to the door. “Turn around” Sir instructed. As I slowly flowed his command I was met with the sight of this giant, muscle bound man, adorned in a fitted suit. Each cut highlighted his athletic frame. There was no straining of the fabric, no puckering of the lapels and no tightness of the single button that was holding the jacket closed. This was not a suit that he was obscenely filling: this was a work of art, wrapped around the living artwork of his body. There was no way this was simply bought of the rack. This must have been a bespoke suit, the quality of which expressed the expense it must have cost. “Wow.” Was all I could say. “When we chatted online you mentioned you liked seeing a well build man in a well fitted suit. I thought you’d appreciate me changing back in to my work clothes after the gym this evening.” “Yes I do, Sir.” My eyes were wide, darting across his body, seeing his upper arms fill the sleeves, the cut of the jacket tapering to his narrow waist, and his trousers emphasising the size of his quads, which all set my cock throbbing. “That’s the best fitting suit I’ve ever seen.” “It’s my favourite,” he said as he straightened his tie with both hands. The motion caused his biceps to swell within the cloth. There was no restriction of movement. This was perfection in fashion form. “May I feel it?” He grinned then nodded. “Certainly, Wee Jock.” I stepped towards him, hands outstretched, ready to grope as soon as they landed on his body. My right hand went for his left bicep, my left hand on his pec. He held his forearm across his torso and flexed both for me. The feeling of his hard muscle underneath the shifting layers of clothing was a new experience for me. I couldn’t help but vocalise my pleasure. He shifted, preforming a most muscular pose. My hands moved to feel his swollen pecs under the rich cotton shirt. He put both hands on my shoulders and waited until I looked at his face. I loved how much I had to strain my neck back to look up at him from this close. “Now, Wee Jock. When a man enters this house dressed as finely as this, there are rules. I expect you to show a well dressed man your respect and admiration in this house.” His grin was bordering on a smirk… as was mine. I lowered myself to my knees and started running my hands up and down Sir’s expansive thighs. He unbuttoned his jacket and his bulge was obviously swelling down his right trouser leg. I let my thumb flick across his hardening head. I started paying closer attention to his crotch and enjoyed watching as his cock lengthened and thickened, pushing the trouser fabric aside, as if it were a burrowing animal just below the soil. As I ran my hands across it, I could feel it harden. As I continued I marvelled at watching his ample appendage as it ticked round from the seven to ten o’clock position. I put my mouth around his bulbous head, mouthing and gently bitting it. He rewarded me with a hand on the back of my head, gently rubbing his fingers through my close cropped hair. I sealed my lips around the tip and exhaled, pushing warm air through the fabric and causing a dampness to register in my mouth. Sir’s groans let me know he enjoyed my ministrations. I reached for his fly, pulling the zipper down slowly, carefully. He wasn’t wearing any underwear. Was this normal for his every day work life? As I slipped my hand inside his trousers I thought about him free balling all day in his expensive suits. He must have excellent control, for a man of his dimensions wouldn’t be able to hide any excitement. With some effort, and a little shifting from Sir, I was able to free his cock from it’s fabric confinement. At once I started on its already wet head. My tongue quickly spreading the mixture of saliva and precum up and down his shaft. I made my tongue wide and flat, rubbing it against the frenulum, then slurping his head as if I were preventing an ice cream cone from dripping on a hot day. After enough teasing I started slipping my mouth over his head and back, sticking my tongue out as he went in. A second hand joined the back of my head. I put my hands on his shaft. There would be room enough for both of his hands, but my small hands left several inches for my mouth to play with. I started milking him whilst my mouth massaged him. He gripped my head in encouragement and started swaying his hips in time with my head movements. His groans of approval making the firmness in my own turgid member pleasurably unbearable. After a few moments, he removed his hands to loosen his tie. He undid it, leaving the ends hanging around his neck. He brought his left hand down to my head, rubbed his thumb affectionately down my cheek, and then cupped his hand around the back of my head again. With his right hand, he started unbuttoning his shirt, from top to bottom. I looked up and watched as the two curtains fell away, revealing the performance on centre stage. Despite reliving this view repeatedly in my memory multiple times a day, it didn’t compare with the real thing. His chiselled six pack flexing as he thrust his hips forward, his overhanging pecs, the clear central channel up to his handsome face; I could feel the precum seeping in to my jockstrap. I dove down his shaft, moving my hands away as I went. His cock head hitting the back of my mouth and pushing itself down in to my throat. I bobbed over the last inch a few times as I swallowed again and again, milking his engorged penis. The saliva build up in my mouth as I fought against the gagging sensation, adding lubrication to my deep throating. Sir stayed still and growled a low, long, “y-e-s!” I withdrew, strings of precum and saliva connecting my mouth to his dick. As I took a few deep breaths, he shrugged off his jacked, shirt and tie. I grabbed his cock again, focussing my attention on his flared head. As I sucked and licked, he undid his belt, allowing him to open his trousers properly. Whilst he rummaged within his trousers to get out his balls, I moaned in delight at the sight of his pecs squeezing themselves together. I brought a hand up to reach, but could only get my fingertips around them. I had been climbing years previously and this felt similar to searching for finger holds around a rocky outcrop, his flesh was so firm. When he freed his balls I turned my attention to them, slowly rubbing my right hand up and down his wet shaft as I licked his smooth testicles whilst I massaged his taint with my left hand. My head was being firmly held by Sir now as he ground in to me. Within a few minutes he told me to stop. I dutifully obeyed, already missing his taste in my mouth. “In to the bedroom, NOW!” The look on his face was intense. His whole face was red, and the veins along his temples and neck were throbbing. If it weren’t for his massive erection I’d have thought he was angry, but I knew he was trying desperately to hold back. I turned and ran ahead of him, assuming my “at ease” stance facing this doorway. I wouldn’t have to wait long this time.
  9. Gman

    Wee Jock

    Thanks so much for the feedback. I do have some plot coming up, but want to get a few things established first. It's just taking my much, much longer to write than I thought it would! Hope you're in for slow release.
  10. Gman

    Wee Jock

    Get out of my head!
  11. Gman

    Wee Jock

    Don’t worry. I’ve got a bit of a plan. It’s just going to be slow going getting it written.
  12. Gman

    Wee Jock

    Chapter 2: I took a deep breath and followed Sir in to his bedroom. I didn’t take in too much of my surroundings at first, as I was too focused on watching the many muscles on Sir’s broad back undulate as he moved. He was straightening up and adjusting something under his towel. As he allowed it to hang once more from his hips, he slowly turned around to face me, picking up a bottle of baby oil from on top of drawers as he moved. I stood wide eyed, my mouth slightly hanging open, amazed by the sight before me. Sir grinned, obviously enjoying the effect he had on me. He poured some of the oil in to his left palm, put the bottle down and raised his right arm, flexing his bicep. He rubbed his left hand over the mighty peak of his upper arm, up over the next mountain of his shoulder, across the rolling hills of his chest and into the valley of his sternum. As soon as the oil touched his skin the contrast between light and dark snapped in to sharp relief, making him seem even larger than before. That was when I noticed the tall lamp in the corner, angled towards my host, displaying him like a sculpture in a gallery. Once again I was reminded that this was not the first time Sir had received guests like myself. “Can you see how important it is to keep my skin hydrated?” “Yes, Sir.” I nodded whilst agreeing. “Would you like to help?” “Yes, Sir.” I started shaking again as my heart rate elevated. I was a runner, sometimes my body would start doing this just before a race. I could almost taste the adrenaline. Every part of my body was preparing me to start running, yet I found it hard to move. My legs didn’t seem to respond to the signals my brain was sending them. I must have looked ungainly as I took the three or four steps to be close enough to him. He laughed again, holding the bottle of oil up before me. I held both my hands up to receive the tool of my fantasy. After dispensing the warm liquid into my palms he set the bottle down and raised his left arm out straight. Even unflexed he had more of a bicep mound than I did when flexing in front of the mirror. I waited for him to flex it in front of me, but he held it there. After a few moments I looked at his face to find him looking directly at my eyes. He nodded silently and I placed my hand on his unflexed upper arm. I started to rub in the oil but paused as he slowly flexed his elbow; his bicep transforming in to a solid ball of power. “Oh my fucking God.” I moaned as I felt precum rapidly leaking out of my painfully erect cock. The fabric of the jock absorbing as much of it as it could. “I told you I prefer you to call me Sir,” he said with a massive grin on his face. Obviously proud of himself and the influence he could induce over me. I smiled back at him. “You’ll forgive my confusion.” His smile widened as he exhaled deeply in a quite laugh, before bringing both arms down in a most muscular pose. “I suppose I can.” I made some form of groaning noise as I thrust both my hands towards his shoulders. Rubbing in as much of the oil into his delts, traps and arms as I could before drying up. Without asking I reached for the bottle as Sir stood straight. I flipped the cap, holding the bottle upside down, and raised it higher than my own head so that I could dribble the contents on to his chest. I enjoyed seeing the clear liquid dripping off his pecs as he leaned back slightly. Some drops landing on his abs, some soaking in to the white towel. He brought his hands towards himself, palms flat, as if to rub the oil in himself. “Stop!” I yelped. He halted. He was obviously taken aback that I would dare instruct him. “I mean, please, Sir. You wouldn’t deny me my job?” He grinned again, standing up straight. “By all means, carry on then, Wee Jock.” I raised my hands to his chest, rubbing the baby oil in to the most manly chest I’d ever seen. As I rubbed, he would flex and relax his pecs under my wandering hands. I moved lower, over his abdomen and round the side of his torso. The sheen my palms left made his intercostals and transverse muscles pop with definition. His abdominals resembled a pack of morning rolls and I tested my earlier theory: yes, I could grab fingers around each one. I ran my slippery fingers in through all the ridges of his abs before placing a finger on each hip, and running down his adonis belt. As soon as my fingers touched the towel Sir took a half step back and turned away from me, preventing me from exploring the yet unseen areas of his body. He rolled his shoulders and arms a few times before bringing his fists to his hips, rotating his elbows forward slightly and suddenly snapping in to a lat spread. The change was instantaneous. It was as if a parachute had deployed, suddenly inflating. I was surprised I wasn’t knocked backwards with air displacement. I reached out to grab hold of each lat and squeezed so hard I pulled myself towards him until I was kissing the middle of Sir’s back. “The oil, Wee Jock.” Sir instructed. I brought myself out of my muscle lust long enough to pick up the bottle, reaching up to drizzle the oil from one shoulder, up across his trapezia and back down towards the other shoulder. The slick fluid ran down Sir’s broad back, converging as his impossibly wide back tapered down to his narrow waist. I scooped the oil up from the base of his spine, and started spreading it all over the expanse of his back. The striations of each muscle becoming more pronounced. The various muscles running at opposing angles, looking like a celtic knot, weaving in and out of themselves. Sir shifted his pose, bringing his arms up, striking a rear double biceps pose, just for my own private viewing. My hands traversed up to grope his massive arms, his delts, lats, rhomboids... it was all too much, I needed more hands. My cock strained against the now wet jock strap. Sir dropped his arms to turn around as I moved my hands to adjust my throbbing erection that had been begging for attention. “Keep your hands away from that.” He said calmly. His deep voice making the hairs on my neck stand on end. “You’ll have no need to touch yourself tonight.” He said confidently, his hands moving to take hold of the towel. “Get the oil ready for my legs.” He instructed as held one edge of the towel in his left hand and untucked the other with his right. He slowly unveiled the biggest quads I have ever seen. He was tensing them, making each muscular body stand out. The cuts between them were deep and already impressive. Between those mammoth legs, his cock and balls sat concealed behind a red, metallic body builders posing pouch. The sight tipped me over the edge. My abdominals contracted as I shot load after load of thick cum inside the jock. My head had been pressing up against the fabric so tightly that much of it had been forced through by the strength of my orgasm. The viscous liquid dripping down the already wet triangle of material. Sir cocked one black eyebrow and said “I told you you wouldn’t need to touch yourself. I hope you’re not going to disappoint me and end the night here. You’ve not finished what you came here to do.” He dropped the towel and folded his arms, emphasising the mass of within them and his pecs. I suddenly had a mild panic. I didn’t want to stop. This was the most erotic thing ever to happen to me. I’ve never experienced a wet dream before, let alone cum hands free whilst I’m awake! “No. I don’t want to disappoint... you, Sir. Please let me... continue?” I was still receiving shudders throughout my body following such a forceful orgasm, causing me to pause during my response. “Well then, Wee Jock,” he said as he reached two fingers out towards my groin, scooping up a glob of my cum. “You better get back to work.” With that he raised those two cum covered fingers up to my face. I automatically opened my mouth and he slipped them in right up to the knuckles. I started sucking his fingers clean, swirling my tongue around him; giving him a preview of what I could do. My cock, which had softened slightly after ejaculating, quickly regained it’s turgidity. Sir pulled his fingers out of my mouth, which suddenly felt empty. I lowered myself to my knees and started applying oil to the gargantuan legs in front of me. I was sure that his thighs were thicker than my waist. I hoped one day to be allowed to measure them. Sir held out his left thigh towards my, the light catching on the oily highlights I had just supplied. He relaxed his quads, medial muscle drooping slightly over his knee with gravity. He swayed his knee left to right, left to right, the mass of his thighs swinging and shifting with its own momentum transfixing me. Suddenly he tensed and every muscle and cut snapped into sharp definition. The medial muscle returning to an oversized chicken fillet. I moaned and bit my bottom lip as I started massaging in more oil, my fingertips getting closer and closer to the posing pouch with each pass. Sir shifted his legs and pivoted on the balls of his feet to face away from me. His large, angular calves splitting just off centre, resembling a relief of the ace of spades. This confirms my long standing belief that my fellow scotsmen have the best calves. I dispensed more of the oil into my hands and slowly applied it from the ankles up over the sudden bulk of Sir’s calves, and continued up to his hamstrings. Sir groaned in pleasure as I got close to his solid gluteals. He hooked his thumbs into the narrow waistband of his posing briefs, and bend forward, almost doubling over. I was amazed at his flexibility for such a muscular man. His upturned face caught my eye: he grinned, winked, and in a sudden movement slipped the posing pouch off of his buttocks and down his shapely legs, to be deposited at his feet. I wasted no time massaging and groping the muscular orbs before me. My face getting closer and closer with each passing moment. Just as I was about to go in to take a mouthful of his flesh, Sir spun around again, slapping me in the face with his huge, erect cock. I’ve got a high standard when it comes to length and girth, and I would never expect a man as built as Sir to be able to compete in that department as well. But he proved me wrong. Sir reached out to touch my face where his meat stick had just struck me. “Careful there there, Wee Jock. I didn’t realise you were so close or I would have given you warning... I’ve got a wide turning circle here.” “I can see that, Sir.” I looked up at him. His cobbled abs overshadowed by the overhang of his pecs. His strikingly handsome face looking down at me. He continued to cup the left side of my jaw with his fingertips, gently rubbing my cheek with his thumb. I reached both hands behind him, taking hold of his firm buttocks, pulling myself towards him. My head tilted slightly as I positioned my mouth to start kissing, sucking and tonguing the sweet spot where his cock and balls met. Sir gasped and moved his hand around the back of my head, running his hands through my short hair, confirming his pleasure. I continued licking and sucking on his large, clean shaven balls whilst his throbbing cock rubbed against my face. I looked up Sir’s body to see that past the shelf of his pecs, his head was tilted skywards as he gave a deep moan in ecstasy. I started licking the base of his wide shaft, wrapping my tongue around as much of it as possible, working my way up his shaft, lubricating it for what I knew was to come. I took the tip of my tongue, making it wide and flat, and ran it from the base of the underside of cock all the way up his impressive length. Once I reached his flaring head, I tensed my tongue, making it firm and pointy, flicking it up and down his frenulum. Sir’s knee’s buckled slightly at that and his fingers gripped my head a little firmer. I finally ran my tongue over the bulbous head of cock, moved my hands to rest on his thighs, and placed my puckered lips against he very tip of his penis. I paused. Sir was breathing heavily now. He brought his hands up behind his head, thrusting his hips towards me, but I was prepared for that and moved my body with him. For these few moments I would be in control. I opened my mouth ever so slightly, allowing my tongue to dart horizontally across his slit. Sir grunted and clenched down on his abs, the multiple mounds of muscle attracting my left hand up to rub and grope them as he tensed to distract himself from his need to thrust forward. I opened my mouth slowly wider, my tongue now grinding back and fourth along the underside of his head. As I continued my glacial advance, my lips remained tight around his head as the flare of his cock expanded and suddenly popped in to my mouth. All at once I started diving down his shaft, taking as much of Sir in as I could. “Fuck yes!” he shouted as he grabbed my head in both hands, still allowing me to control my movements. Every four or fifth journey back up his length I would let his head pop out of my mouth and I would dive down on him again keeping my lips tight around, but at a much faster speed than before. Once I was confident I would be able to achieve it, I decided to go for the full thing. I opened my jaw further and slid my head right down until my nose was burrowing in to the closely cropped nest of hair at his pubis: the only hair he had below his neck. He fills my mouth, he pushed my throat wide as I swallowed him, milking his glands as I did. I disengaged to get a breath. Trails of saliva and precum connecting my mouth to Sir’s impressive manhood. I looked up at Sir, who was watching me agog. I suspect he hadn’t had many guests able to accommodate him in such a way. I grinned and dove on to him again, taking him all in, bobbing on the last two inches of his oversized meat. I withdrew again, focusing more on his head, and brought one hand up to massage his shaft in time with my head ministrations. Sir’s breathing got heavier and suddenly the playful running of his hands through my hair became a hold on my skull. I looked up at him and his eyes were wide. I nodded as much as I could whilst in his grip and he slowly started filling my mouth with his cock, whilst holding my head in place. I moaned and squirmed my hips trying to adjust y own erection within the sodden jock strap. He took this as encouragement and his almost gentle intrusions became more forceful. Soon he was thrusting himself in to me. Not the whole way, but enough to hit the back of my throat over and over again. This night just kept getting more and more erotic. Each time I thought I had met the highlight, something else happened. This was the most turned on I had ever been. I was on my knees in front of a muscle god, whilst he held my head in his powerful hands, thrusting his enormous cock into my throat. If he didn’t want me to move, I wouldn’t have been able to. But for some reason I trusted him. I could tell he got off on the willing worship and submission, not the forceful overpowering of me. I moaned again, my fingertips wandering up and down his flexing thighs and abdominals, enjoying the feeling of the muscles in action. Sir moved his hands further round the back of my head, interlocking his fingers and he trust deep in to my eager mouth. His large cock head slipping in to my throat as he ground himself in to my face. My hands grabbed on to his arse, feeling the huge muscles tensing as he was using them to get deeper in side me. The feeling was ecstasy. He let go of my head and pulled his wet cock out of my mouth, again leaving me with an empty feeling. I stared at it and saw that his pendulous balls had pulled themselves so close to his body that they were sitting alongside the base of his cock. Sir grunted several times as he started tensing all his muscles trying to delay orgasm. His face grimacing as he brought his arms round and down in to a most muscular pose and roared. I stood up to view him properly and he continued to roar in to my face. His skin turned red the effort of flexing so hard. His veins popping out all over his shoulders and arms. The definition of each and every muscle in his body was highlighted by the combination of oil and sweat. He stood up, taking several deep breaths. He took a step towards me, grabbed my shoulders, spinning me around and trowing me towards the bed in one fluid motion. Before I knew it he had pulled and pushed me so I was on my knees and elbows, arse in the air and he was behind me, a hand on each of my firm arse cheeks. He started groping them, one of his thumbs getting closer and closer to my hole. I started getting a little worried where this was going. I had only bottomed a few times before, and never with someone as large as Sir. I wanted to though. Oh dear God I wanted to feel the full weight and power of that man thrusting in to me. I hurried my face in to the sheets I was clutching in both fists and I presented myself for him. He started rubbing his thumb up and down my crack against my puckered hole. And then he did something I would not imagine such dominant man doing: he brought his face down and started grazing his teeth against my cheeks and running his tongue across my taint. I had never experienced this. I wasn’t expecting to have this kind of attention directed towards me. I had… prepared the area in case this dominant muscle man would want to fuck me, but I hadn’t expected such a close inspection. His tongue started cycling my anus and suddenly I couldn’t wait for him to reach the destination. I was groaning and arching my back, thrusting my arse further in to the air, all the easier for Sir to rim me. As his tongue was lapping against me, I could feel my arse craving him to enter me. Again I realised that this couldn’t be the first time he had done this - a man of his size must have to participate in a lot of foreplay to get his partners ready for action. I felt a finger run down the centre of my back, I arched further as it got to my lumbar spine, and over in to my crack. As his tongue pulled away it was replaced by the finger tracing circles around my now twitching ring. I felt a glob of cold lube land in my crack and it was massaged in. His finger tip was placed gently against my hole and slipped in slowly. The warm digit massaged itself back and forth, slowly opening me up. A second digit joined it. Once his fingers hit my prostate I started dripping premium through my jock again. He pulled out his fingers. I pushed my arse backwards as if trying to catch them again. But I knew what was coming. I turned my face out of the sheets, my heart skipping as I was worried I was about to break the mood. “Condom.” I stated. “Already taken care of.” I heard the sound of lube being dispensed and then applied on to his shaft, followed by the warm, round feeling of his head pushing up against my hole. He paused for a few seconds. I didn’t wait. I moved my body towards him and he took the signal to start pushing in to me. He slowly filled me. I suppose it was as gentle as he could make it. A man like him would be use to starting slow or not at all. He rocked back and forth, each time getting further and further in, until I could feel his thighs up against my arse. He held my hips and the thrusting became faster and faster until we found a rhythm. This was amazing. With each thrust I could feel his power crashing in to me, his cock flex inside me, his hands groping my hips. I was moaning with every breath. “Look up” Sir instructed. I did. I hadn’t realised the full length mirror opposite us. This room really was laid out for exhibitionism. The view was erotic as fuck… literally. HIs powerful body thrusting in to me, sweat dripping down his pecs, running through his crunching abs. His face grinning at me, his black hair, swept away from his face, except one lock, falling to his eyebrows with a slight curl. My small, toned frame just highlighting his enormous, muscular one. He smirked at me as he let go of my hips, bringing his arms up in to a double bicep and thrusting hard and deep. “Oh fuck!” My shout elongated as I could feel my orgasm build. Quickly he pulled out, grabbed my legs and flipped me on to my back. The shock halting my orgasm in it’s tracks. He held on to my right ankle, aligned himself, and thrust in to me again, with none of the slow grace he had before. It wasn’t until that moment I realised how empty I had felt when he withdrew. Suddenly my other ankle was being held as well, and he was writhing away. My ankles were being held at his shoulder height, my arse off the bed, only my shoulders and arms in contact with the bed. With each thrust I was was being thrown about and he would have to pull me back on to himself. I was transfixed by the rhythmic flexing of his arms, pecs and abs as this new position caused his enormous cock to run back and forth across my prostate with each pass. It wasn’t long until I was moaning again. I recached back and clutched the sheets in to my fists as I yelled through my climax. Sir pulled out, removed the condom and stroked himself furiously with both hands. His pecs flexing, his abs flexed, his fists pumping. With a roar he came! Ropes of thick white cum landed on my abs and chest, mingling with the cum soaking through my jock. I lay on the bed basking in the aftermath of the scene. Sir stood, his chest heaving, grinning down at me with a satisfied look on his face. “Looks like I’ll need another shower.” He said. “Take your time, and when you’re ready, let yourself out.” I had been so nervous before arriving, I hadn’t really thought about what would happen afterwards. I wasn’t expecting cuddles, but at the same time I wasn’t expecting to be dismissed so bluntly. “Sure.” I said, as I rolled off the bed, my legs wobbling a little whilst they regained their balance. “Wee Jock?” “Aye?” “That was fuckin’ hot. You’ve got a really talent there. I expect you to answer when I text you.” With that he walked back to the en suite. I watched the globes of his arse as he walked away. Once I heard the shower, I left the bedroom, and exited the flat, retrieving my clothes from the cupboard between the storm doors. I replaced my jeans and shirt, leaving his cum drying on my skin. I walked out in to the fresh air, my head spinning, as I walked to the nearest taxi rank, knowing that over the next few days I would be checking my phone every few minutes. I took out my phone as I walked, changing the name of my last text from “Muscle Guy” to “Sir.”
  13. Gman

    Wee Jock

    Wow, I didn't realise how long it took to write these things. I apologise to every writer that I've ever wanted to hurry up and post!
  14. Gman

    Wee Jock

    This is my first go at writing a story. If anyone has any feedback (good or bad), please feel free to comment. This chapter is more scene setting than sex. But I promise, there will be plenty of it. I've got a few ideas stored up. CHAPTER 1 I was nervous when I first went to his door. I was nervous every time I went to his door. I had met internet hookups before, but this was different. This guy seemed to have something more than a simple fuck in mind. Something I said had sparked his interested. His one pic was hot. Really hot. It didn’t even have his face, it was just his left pec, shoulder and arm reaching across his body. The way the muscles were flexed and defined emphasised their size. I wouldn’t normally message a guy with only one picture available, but that picture had me hard as soon as I saw it. When I messaged him he didn’t ask to meet for a fuck straight away (unlike 95% of the other guys on that site). We’ve been messaging for weeks now and it’s finally happening. I got a taxi to the address he sent me. It dropped me off outside a large, victorian, terraced house in Glasgow’s Westend. I didn’t even know houses like this existed here. I was use to the ageing student flats close by. These were much better cared for. He had given me instructions. I was to arrived at 10pm. I was a little early, so I waited outside. The storm door was unlocked, so I let myself in to the small porch, closing the door behind me. To the left of the main front door, was a narrow door flush with the wood paneling. As instructed, I opened it to find a small cupboard. I assumed most houses would keep their wellies, and umbrellas in here. But this cupboard was empty, save for a shoebox on the floor with the word “Open” written on top of it. Inside the box was a white jockstrap, size small, a key and a note saying: “Take off your clothes and shoes. Put on your jock strap. Come stand in the hall and don’t speak until instructed.” My heart was beating so hard I could hear my pulse. I felt my stomach constricting and was pleased I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. I took a few deep breaths and took off my shirt. I was doing this. I could best be described as skinny. I thought I might have filled out a bit more when I entered my twenties, but it never happened. I had a visible six pack due to my low body fat, you couldn’t see my upper ribs, but there wasn’t much muscle there. I guess that’s one of the reason I find muscle so attractive. I removed my shoes, socks, jeans and briefs, placing them all in the cupboard and retrieving the plain white jockstrap. I’d never worn one before, and I was so nervous I put my leg in the wrong bit first time round. But once on, and the straps adjusted, I looked at myself as I ran my hands down from my chest to my balls, and then round to my exposed arse cheeks. It felt good and despite the lack of a mirror, I was pretty sure I looked good too. I used the key to unlock the front door and let myself in. It was strange letting myself in to someone else’s house, let alone doing it near naked. The hall was almost square, with tall ceilings and four rooms coming off of it: two doors on the right, two on the left. There was a large mahogany sideboard up against the back wall holding a vase of flowers, and above it hung a large, grand mirror. I could here muffled music coming from the ajar doorway at the far right corner of the hall. I daren’t venture in so I took up position in the centre of the room. I adopted a military ‘at ease’ pose, with my legs spread, and hands clasped behind my back, my heart still thumping against my chest. The room was pleasantly warm, so the slight tremble I had was through nerves rather than cold. After only a few minutes the music shut off, and I heard movement in the next room. The door opened and out stepped a god. A large white towel was wrapped around his waist, covering his legs down to his thick calves. His torso was the most erotic thing I have ever seen in real life. His skin was tanned and still glistening with moisture from the shower. The grooves between each abdominal mound - deep enough for me to get my fingers in and grab hold of each one - channeled little water droplets as they formed, running down past his navel to be absorbed by the towel. His powerful chest overhung this perfect abdomen. And it was flanked on either side by a pair of thick lats, impressive even though they were stretched as he dried his hair with a second towel. I could feel my cock thickening and pushing against the material of the jock. I must have taken a loud breath, or said something, because the god stopped in the doorway, dropped one arm and shifted the towel away from his face. He caught my eye and smirked. He walked in to the hall and leant against the sideboard, his right hand continuing to rub his dark hair. “On time and following instructions. We might get along.” His voice was deep, and although his accent wasn’t Glaswegian, it was certainly Scottish. I didn’t know if this counted as an invite to speak. I stayed silent, partly out of fear of upsetting him and having the encounter cut short; partly from not trusting my mouth to form words correctly. He continued to look at me straight in the eyes, as if sizing me up. A dozen, rapid, thumping, heartbeats passed and he stood up, leaving the secondary towel on the sideboard. He took a few steps towards me and stopped so that he was just out of arms reach, brought his hands together at hip level and flexed his chest. He could have crushed an apple in between those massive pecs. His shoulders ballooned out and the light catching on the still damp skin highlighted every groove of his deltoids. I had never experienced someone flex for me before... no one with anything decent to flex anyway. Not only did he have the size, but he knew what hew as doing as well. This was obviously not the first time he had shown off like this. I knew I wanted to step forward and start touching him, but I was hypnotised into motionlessness; only my eyes roving over his hard, gargantuan body. He brought both arms up into a double bicep pose. My gaze traveling from one peak to the other. His frame looked enormous as he held that pose, his lats spreading like a cobra’s neck, tapering down to his tight waist. All angles directing me to the bulge underneath the towel. I looked back to his face. His ice blue eyes were staring directly at my own. His grin revealed that he was enjoying how much I was enthralled by his display. He took another couple of steps forward, and that’s when I realised just how tall he was. I am a mere 5’5”, below average by any standard. My eyes were in line with this man’s chest. He must have been about 6’4”! He continued to make his slow advance until my nose was between those two mounds of powerful muscle. “Do you like what you see so far?” I looked up at him, towering over me. His face looking down at me, his left eyebrow raised, waiting for my answer. “I...I...” I stammered, “YES!” In my panic to say something my answer came out far too loudly. The god’s smile grew and he gave a single “ha,” as his chest heaved, almost touching me. I exhaled loudly, causing goosebumps on his sternum. “I hadn’t realised you’d be quite so short.” I couldn’t think what to say. I hadn’t realised how big this guy was going to be, or how dominant. Despite being mocked about my height all my life, and having witty retorts for almost any insult, I couldn’t think of anything for this situation. After all it had only been a statement. I started trying to form a response but just mumbled as my cheeks flushed red. The Goliath thrust both hands into my armpits and picked me up as if I were a doll. My hands at that point were still clasped behind my back. I immediately brought them round and grabbed hold of his arms to steady myself before I could register what was happening. “I shouldn’t have to pick you up to hear you. A lad so short should be use to making himself heard.” He held me in the air, almost a foot off the ground: his elbows at the same height as his shoulders, his arms bent at ninety degrees. His massive deltoids were flexed, but not struggling. His biceps... holy fuck my hands were on his biceps. I looked at my right hand, then back to those blue eyes. He winked. My breath shuddered as I took in this moment and squeezed my hands around his thick, bulging upper arms. My fingers gripped on to one of the tricep heads, whilst my thumbs tried to make an impression on his biceps. I couldn’t. I grew confident of his hold on me and started to run my hands slowly over his arms and shoulders, exploring them with my fingertips and palms. This was it. This was the reason I had come here tonight. He had promised I would get to feel power and strength like never before, and here it was. My heart rate increased, and I could feel the jock strap straining against my erection. “Fucking hell, this is unreal.” The first clear sentence I had made since entering his home. “My skin is drying out. How would you like to help rub in some oil?” He asked whilst placing me back on the ground. “I’d like that very much... Sir.” He cocked his head slightly to one side, giving my an approving look. He reached down, and pulled at one leg strap on my jock. “You’re a natural at this, Wee Jock.” He let the elastic go, slapping against my arse. “I like my guests to call me Sir.” With that he turn and walked back in to the room he had come from. I stood still, marvelling at the breadth and taper of his back as he walked away. “Follow me, Wee Jock.” “Yes, Sir!”
  15. Gman

    Mikey The Human Muscle Morph

    Continuing to love this story. Eagerly awaiting the next instalment.