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Catch up: Precis: Valhalla Labs is a remote mountaintop Northern California military facility, overseen by genius muscle growth scientist Dr. Ira Zaftig and CO Staff Sergeant Rod Moster, a 7'-0" ripped and hung 395-pound black muscle giant. There, 18 extraordinary bodybuilder-soldiers live, train, and play together, overseen by Moster's strict rules and brutal regimen for muscular perfection. Known as Project Herculaneum, the men serve as Dr. Zaftig's lab rats, receiving regular injections of P-21, a specially developed enzyme that facilitates muscle and strength growth in the very few bodybuilders whose systems can withstand it. The goal: to create an army of supermen, whose strength, size, and combat skills are unparalleled in the modern military. Unfortunately for the Project, the soldiers' enhanced strength and dramatically increased muscular size is accompanied by a corresponding increase in penis size as well, along with a rapidly diminishing sense of social restraint and inhibitions. And along the way, the men's extraordinary physiques prompt their own extreme muscle fantasies into a daily acting-out sexual reality. Into the mix comes young Casey Rockland, a lonely, handsome, innocent, super-hung 18-year old bodybuilding giant. Inducted by Dr. Zaftig into the top-secret government muscle strength and growth project, Casey comes to learn the ropes amongst the muscle giants, whose hunger for hardcore training is matched only by their sexual appetites and growing fantasies, including their insatiable appetite to receive muscle worship. Casey's simplicity, and his ever-growing need to receive equal doses of both love and muscle worship threaten the very core of the decade-long Project, itself only now approaching its full potential. Links to previous chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match THE TWENTY A Government Issue Adult Cartoon -XXX- Muscle Fantasy By Joey Silverado This book is dedicated to Tiny Yokum – and to all his fans, past, present, and future. Chapter 13: After the Match Casey lay on the wrestling mat, completely spent. His eye was swollen – he’d have a nice shiner tomorrow. His huge, tired muscles gleamed oily red with sweat and scratch and pressure marks from the match. Casey dripped with splotches of oil mixed with muscle cum. Lakes of cum oozed into the oil, painting his raw, vascular physique a creamy, drippy, white, gathering in little lakes in the deep cobblestones of his abs, rolling in thick tides down his lats and onto the mat. “What the fuck?” he asked plaintively. “What kinda place IS this?” He sniffed the air. Cum. Everything smelled of cum. Around and above him the men were zipping up, putting their cocks away, retrieving sweaty, torn clothing. Karim Abdul, the vanquished muscle monster, lay to his left. Enraged, cum-coated, growling. “I’ll get you, kid,” he threatened. He stood, rivulets of cum flowing down from his face onto his massive traps. He started off. He stopped when he got to Blankenship. Blankenship grinned toothily. It didn’t last long. POW!!! Blankenship flew about 20 feet into the air from the force of Abdul’s uppercut punch, his feet never touching the ground. A tooth, suddenly without a home, landed beside him. Out cold. “Where you going, Corporal?” Moster demanded, stuffing his massive, dripping cock back into his pants and zipping up with some difficulty over the bulge. Abdul ignored him, stalking out the room. "Come on, Pedro," he barked to the pretty little kitchen boy, who scampered eagerly after him. “Someone get Blankenship and put him to bed.” Moster sighed, knowing that the muscleman would demand a match of his own the next day. And on it would go, until he was forced once again into public bare-butt spankings to keep them in line. Funny how they’d deck one another but submit meekly to hard paddling on their razor sharp glutes. The men stared a little – though all had seen Moster’s cock before – in fact, all the men had at various points sucked it dry, and had their own faces coated with the steady, unrelenting stream of ropey gism that shot from his deep piss slit. But no one could remember a group scene quite like what had just occurred. Abdul stalked off to the showers, Schumacher and Obatu bent to pick up a groggy, moaning Blankenship. Moster took his clipboard to a desk in the corner of the wrestling room and lowered his rockhard muscle butt into the swivel chair, which sagged and groaned under his mass. Corporal Alvarez and Private Lang, who had called Casey a motherfucker, but somehow managed to make it sound good, turned to check out the new muscle kid last time as they passed through the door back to their quarters, where they planned to fuck butt all night. They knew Moster wouldn’t be paying attention. Not tonight. Casey caught their look, and they nodded briefly at him. Lang gave him a half smile. Then he winked. And then they were both gone. Schumacher didn’t leave right away, though. He handed Blankenship over to LeFevre and stood back, watching like a hawk as the others filed out. Then he walked boldly right up to Casey. He looked up at him. “Sergeant Moster has another little honorary initiation ritual on that I think you may find both interesting and rewarding.” He smiled. “We’d like the opportunity to take you through it tomorrow.” “I - I’ll be honored to be a part of it.” “Yes, you will.” “Get out of here, Schumacher,” said Moster with good-natured gruffness. Schumacher looked blankly at Moster, who hadn’t even looked up from his notes. “And it won’t be tomorrow. It won’t be any time soon.” He looked up. “For Casey, that is. However, I’d be happy to accommodate you at any time.” His hand twitched and Schumacher instinctively shot a hand down to protect his glutes. “Yes, sir.” Schumacher left the lab. “Sorry about that, Casey,” said Moster, as soon as he was gone. “Corporal Schumacher gets a bit riled over anything having to do with Private Tiffany. They all have their quirks. You’ll adjust. Those last two men? They were Private Robert Lang and Corporal Julio Alvarez. Those two specimens were brought into the facility only a year ago. Others have come, but not everyone makes it through, and if they fail, then Zaftig releases them back into the general population. In fact, only 1 in 50 make it as far as you have. Now, drop your posers. It’s time I inspected your penis more closely.” Casey slightly rolled his eyes. “Again, sir?” “I’m not going to say it twice.” Casey nodded, resigned. He understood. It was about his penis, after all. Not his muscles. His dong. His wang. His rod. His cock. His huge motherfucking penis. It was always about his huge motherfucking penis. Moster was watching him steadily, his eyes narrowing. “Is there a problem, cadet?” he asked quietly, after a moment. “No problem, at all, sir.” He slipped his fingers into the elastic band of his torn, micro posing trunks and pulled it out from his body, and slid it down over his quads. Pop….. Smack! His giant penis poured out and slapped down onto his quads just above his knees. Immediately it stiffened slightly. The bell-like cock head bobbed forward once or twice, and the pulsing veins in the shaft began to throb a little more rapidly. Casey was breathing hard now. He was beet red with embarrassment. Moster never stopped looking him in the eye. He strode forward and grabbed hold of his thick penis in his left hand, squeezing the shaft lightly. Casey’s eyes widened in profound surprise. It grew hard in the palm of his hand. His palm glided up and down the warm steely rod 2, 3 times, very slowly. It grew under his hand. “Impressive. How big is this machine of yours?” He stroked it with his fingers. “I see you didn’t cum during the match." He began to rub his heavy hands with practiced movements up and down the boy’s thick shaft. “I – I don’t know, sir.” Casey had begun to sweat. Moster remained cool. “No, I didn’t shoot.” He shuffled from side to side, and his penis slipped out of Moster’s palm. Moster looked up. He took hold of the cock firmly once again. “You seem agitated. You badly need some additional training. Part of what marks this troop is their ability to restrain their emotional responses. And it seems to me your cock is responding emotionally.” Moster continued to stroke Casey’s machine vigorously. “So since we’re going in that general direction, let’s take a few additional measurements. Private Tiffany!” he suddenly called out towards the open corridor door. No response, but Casey made out a figure in the darkened shadows of the corridor. “Private Joe Tiffany. I know you’re out there. Step in here now, Private.” Tiffany appeared in the doorway. The young bodybuilder had removed his t-shirt and stood stripped to the waist. His ripped muscles gleamed in the fluorescent light. He entered the lab and walked bow-legged, a coiled cobra, towards the two musclemen in the center of the room. “Take some additional measurements, Tiffany. You know what I am referring to.” Tiffany smiled. “Yes, sir, I know.” He approached Casey. Looking him squarely in the eyes, he knelt with business-like efficiency before him. When his eyes were level with Casey’s member, he looked squarely at it. “What is the diameter, Private Tiffany?” Moster reached again for the clipboard, all business. Tiffany opened his smiling mouth wide and moved towards Casey’s cock. Casey nearly jumped out of his skin. “What’s he doing?!” “Private Tiffany has an unusual talent. It’s like having perfect pitch. He can take exact measurements with his mouth. He’s never off by more than 1/64th of an inch. Go for it, Private. Enjoy yourself, Casey.” “Flex for me, dude,” cajoled Tiffany sweetly, his mouth hovering just above the head of Casey’s enormous penis. “Come on, man, let’s see those big rocky peaks.” He flicked his tongue out and lightly touched the corona. “Sir…” Casey started to say. “Cadet Rockland, Project Herculaneum soldiers do as they’re told. Private Tiffany will now suck your cock. If you have a problem with this, speak up now. We administer regular oral-stimulation sessions here at Valhalla Labs.” “But ….it’s so gay, sir.” Tiffany snickered. “You’re standing there covered with oil and cum and you’re complaining about this being gay?” Moster stepped forward and spoke evenly. “That’s enough, Tiffany,” Tiffany immediately shut up. Moster turned to Casey. “Muscle is its own sex. Some have posited over the years that sex is bad for bodybuilders. We know better here. Cocksucking is not only pleasurable, it stimulates the psyche. It clears out problems with the prostate. Done regularly and properly it enhances semen production. It sharpens the animal instincts, to say nothing of increasing testosterone production. It also serves to further bond the men.” “You mean everyone sucks dick here.” “Everyone who wants to remain in The Project get their cocks sucked. Not only that, they are expected to suck cocks themselves. Regularly. Is there an issue? Are you frightened?” “No….I…..what if he bites me?” Tiffany gave him a lopsided smile, which he meant to be charming. “I never bite too hard,” he said. “I assure you Private Tiffany knows what he is doing. Proceed, Private.” “Okay…..” said Casey, bewildered. “Let’s see those guns, cadet,” said Tiffany. Slowly, as if hypnotized, Casey raised his arms up into front double biceps. Joe Tiffany smiled like a little boy in a candy store. He flicked a little river of cum that followed a thick vein from the cannonball right biceps to the tri’s. Then he squatted on his handsome haunches. He glanced at the mammoth machine that hung before him, and spoke out of the side of his mouth. “This looks like a real jaw-breaker, sir.” “You’ve worked with mine. It’s far bigger. Get to work,” Sergeant Moster commanded, clipboard ready. “Yes, sir. Anything for the good old USA, sir.” Tiffany fingered his Adam’s apple. “Gotta limber up.” He opened his mouth as wide as he could, yawning it four or five times, retracting his teeth behind his lips. He pressed his palm to his jaw and tilted his head, then raised his hands and gently pried his own mouth open to its fullest expanse. He licked his lips until they dripped with spit. Casey watched him intently, still flexing his biceps. His brain was burning. Tiffany approached Casey’s fully erect manhood, gently guided it up to his mouth, parted his lips slightly, and tenderly extended his tongue to lightly flick the big cock head. Flick. Flick. Flick. Casey blinked. Tiffany ran his tongue along the piss slit and probed a little inside. He looked up again. “What’s your preliminary estimate, Private?” “I’d say it looks to be between 14 and 14 -1/2 inches in length, sir.” “Very good. Girth? “9 inches at least.” “Confirm it, please.” “Yes, sir.” Tiffany leaned in and oh so softly glided his lips smoothly over the head of Casey’s penis. He closed his mouth and gently held firm. He closed his eyes, as if concentrating. Inside his mouth, his tongue methodically caressed the cock head. Casey was blown away. He stared down at the cocky short muscleman whose mouth was now enveloping the head of his penis. No one had ever sucked his cock before, let alone a man, let alone a muscleman. He gulped. Shit, Casey thought. Shit. I’m gonna cum. “Sir, I’m gonna cum, sir!” he blurted out. “Not yet you’re not. No man in my outfit cums in 5 seconds. Control yourself, cadet. Tiffany, what’s your first assessment? How big is this cadet’s cock?” Tiffany, his mouth full of cockhead, tried to respond. He couldn’t. Even he was surprised at the girth of Casey’s member. “MMgghblrb,” he said. “Gaaggg…mmmmhyrpphhhglub……aaaaackk…” “I can’t understand you when you mumble, damn it. Speak plainly, Private.” Tiffany pulled back for a moment, giving the head a final appreciative lick as it popped out of his mouth. “Yes, sir!” He reported, “The corona, I’d say, has a circumference of 10 and 3/8s inches. That sound about right to you, boy?” he asked wickedly. “I…I dunno…” Casey was baffled. What's a corona? Did he mean his cock head? One thing was sure: he was gonna get this guy. He wants to suck my cock, does he? Okay, then. “Now for the shaft.” He smiled again and whispered up to Casey. “This is the fun part,” he said. “Go for it, faggot.” Casey muttered. Tiffany raised an amused eyebrow, then winked at him and plunged forward, his mouth taking in all of Casey’s massive organ. His lips slid easily over the thick shaft, and somehow – by an instinctive rearrangement of tonsils? and a replacement of his soft palate? his mouth glided smoothly down the full length of the erect penis. When he reached the base, once again he stopped. Inside his mouth his tongue stroked the thick, pulsing cock veins. The penis grew stiffer and began to throb insistently inside Tiffany’s mouth. Tiffany sucked Casey’s cock. Back and forth, up and down, tip to base, his lips glided smoothly over the engorged shaft. Threads of thick glistening saliva appeared along the pulsing veins with each plunge. After 10 deep sucks, 5 very appreciative full-length licks, and a little tongue-and-balls-dancing, he pulled back again a moment, and, his eyes dancing merrily up at Casey, he coated the heavy, hairy testicles three or four final times. “Very nice,” he whispered. “Too bad you’ll have to shave these babies.” Okay, thought Casey. Maybe this guy was an asshole, but he was beginning to enjoy this. Something came alive inside him for the first time in his life. Hey, he thought, I really like this. This feels really good. “How do you like it, cadet?” asked Moster, clearly amused. “I like it fine, sir.” Casey managed to get out. “Private Tiffany, resume sucking.” “Yes, sir.” Tiffany went back to work. He sucked deeply five more times, and then pulled back for what he thought was a final time. As Casey’s penis rolled out of his mouth, he wiped his lips with the back of his hand. He turned to Moster, ready to report. “The shaft circumference is unusually thick. I’d put at just over 9 inches. Length of the erect penis, 14 -1/4 inches from base to tip. Weight, maybe 7 pounds, a few ounces? Give or take.” “Your overall assessment?” Casey was staring, excited beyond words, and getting mad as hell. Why had he stopped? This was just getting good. His erect member lobbed back and forth in the air, protesting, next to Tiffany’s left ear, who had turned to face Moster. Tiffany felt the wind of it as it passed, and studied ignored the whooshing sounds. “Definitely a superior organ. I sense he has not used it much in sport yet, aside from masturbating, but I’d also guess he has to masturbate 4 or 5 times a day. Maybe more. There’s a lot of blood pumping here, and it throbs steadily throughout the sucking process. I’d guess this cock hasn’t been sucked very often before, if ever.” “That’s all you know,” said Casey. “Seems unlikely that such a big muscleboy hasn’t found suitable candidates eager to give him regular blowjobs. There’s lots of men out there who like to suck bodybuilder cock. I suppose women, too. Still, Zaftig said this boy is different. All right, then. You’re done for now. Dismissed. Back to your quarters.” “Yes, sir.” Tiffany got up and winked at Casey, wiping his mouth. “See you later,” he said smugly, and sauntered out of the room. Casey stood trembling. “Do you need to shoot, Cadet?” asked Moster, all business. “Yes, sir, I’m afraid I do, sir.” “Get to it, then.” Moster walked casually over to the main table of the lab, put down the clipboard, and surreptitiously picked up a 2-quart beaker. He approached Casey. Casey grabbed his engorged cock with both hands. His body shuddered. He was about to let loose with a mighty blast of gism. Moster was prepared. He strode forward and grabbed Casey’s cock, and in the moment he exploded, he had the beaker ready. He calmly forced the beaker over the cockhead. Casey was stunned, but couldn’t stop his semen from bursting into the jar. “UUUUNNNNGHHH!” he shouted, and his cum flowed heavily out of his shooting dick and began to fill the container with its milky white thick fluid. “UUUUUUUUNNNNNGGGGHHHHHHHHH!! uuunnnggHHHGGHH!!! YEAH! OH GOD YEAH MAN!” As Casey’s huge body shuddered with spurt after spurt, the cum level climbed, half filling the jar. “AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhUNHHH ARRRRGGGGGG hhhhhhhhhhhh hhhhh……” Three minutes later, with a last huge shrug, he was done. As he shuddered to a finish, Moster corked the beaker and held it aloft. He swirled the thick liquid in each and smiled. “Not bad, cadet,” he said calmly. “Close to a pint. Pretty good for a first shot. You’ll do better later.” Casey was meek and baffled and embarrassed. “Thank you, sir,” he said. “Dismissed. We’ll see you at the gym tomorrow at 0700 hours. Get some sleep, Casey. Good night.” He turned and marched out of the room. Casey wiped his dripping dick with the back of his hand. He picked up his clothes and dressed quickly, forcing his still-hard cock into his shorts. But he wasn’t done yet. Not by a long shot. “Shit,” he said. He stood alone in the center of the room, his ripped posing trunks stretched around his ankles, the pole of his mammoth cock weaving out of control in the air. He closed his eyes and scrunched up his face. He was going to shoot again. He grabbed his cock with both hands, and fired towards the ceiling. “UUUUNNNNNGGGGHHHH!” he shouted, and, as ropes of semen began once again to fly into the air, hitting the ceiling, painting the walls, and splashing onto the ground. As his cum shot out of his enormous cock head, he was thinking feverishly. He remembered the cum on Abdul’s handsome Arab face. And he had been accepted into The Nineteen. Would they now be known as The Twenty? Casey knew it to be true. He could now be considered one of the world’s finest bodybuilders, if Project Herculaneum wasn’t so top-secret, and he wasn’t even 20 years old yet. He was powerful. He had a future. He had promised. He was in the elite. The last of his cum geyser shot into the air, arced, and splashed heavily on the sopping marley floor beneath him. His shoulders slumped and he dropped his hands to his sides. So why was he still bothered by something he couldn’t quite figure out? And how come that evil little muscle boy Joe Tiffany looked so familiar to him. Who was he? And why couldn’t he put his finger on it? Casey bent to put what was left of his ripped and shredded posing trunks back on. They barely covered his cock, but he didn’t notice. He waddled to the door of the wrestling room to head back to his quarters for the night. Tomorrow he would move into his new room. He had a lot to think about. He’d have to think about it all.

Hey Guys, been a while since i last posted a story on here, so heres my newest entry. enjoy!! This is a story about Jack, Jack is no ordinary 19yr old……………. “COME ON ONE MORE!!!!” shouted Dean, Dean was jacks training partner. “ARRRGGGHHHHHH” grunted Jack as he lifted the last of his 12 reps on bench press on to the rack, jack stood up and looked in the mirror, staring back at him was a sight that drew gasps from both dean and others in the gym. Jack was a 6ft brick shit house. His chest was rippling with thick dense rock hard muscle, the vest he had on could not contain the sheer size of his pecs, they were so thick every time he breathed in the vest would ride up his torso And begin to tear under the sheer mass of his chest. “add another 25kg on each side mate” he asked dean Dean placed the weights onto the bar which was already loaded with 300kg, bringing it upto 350kg. Jack repped out another 12 reps like it was nothing, re racked the bar and got up again. “This is to easy, I need a real challenge! Whack another 100 on!” Dean added the required weight so that the bar had 450kg loaded on it. “ Man this is crazy shit jack, can’t believe what you’re doing, your pressing over 4x my body weight!!” “Well when you’re as big n strong as me there’s no room for light weights, its heavy as fuck or nothing at all, you don’t get pecs like these by lifting sissy weights!!” Jack bounced his enormous pecs, each bounce shifted his perilously frail vest close to breaking point. Jack laid down on the bench, got his tree trunk arms into position and with a mighty grunt lifted the bar from the rack, each rep was greeted with an almighty grunt, his pecs were bulging with blood pumping round his massive chest. Jack managed 8 reps before re racking. He stood up. “Arrrghhhhhh, im fucking pumped man, look at me? This is what u call pure beastly muscle!!” Jack was pumped, like nothing anyone had ever seen , he moved closer to the mirror, ripped off his vest to reveal the rest of his enormous body, his pecs still filled with blood and rippling from his bench press, sweat was dripping down to his stomach which resembled a block of marble which had had eight large chunks carved into it, his triceps were also rippling from the routine, his tri’s n bi’s were huge at least 35” round, veins snaking down to his beefed up forearms, his giant boulder shoulders looked strong enough to barge through brick walls, his meaty traps stretched up his thick bull neck and his lats were two thick slabs of rock jutting out of his sides. It truly was a sight to behold for everyone not at least dean who was trying so hard to hide his erection going on in his pants. “Jesus jack you look incredible, I’d hate to see a guy cross you!!” dean said with a hint of jealousy. “if they did, they would end up like this!” Jack picked up an olympic sized barbell with no weights on and began to bend it in half like it was made out of rubber, then tossed it aside. “anyway dean im 400lb of freaking huge muscle, I’d be surprised if anyone would cross me!!” Dean gave a laugh of a guy who was like ‘yeah I suppose so but really wanna see it’. “true enough, ok now its my go!!” Dean was inferior to Jack in height, weight and strength so before he could even start his lifting he had to take 400kg worth of weight of the bar. Dean was only 17 and had the physique of a track n field athlete, so he was fairly toned with a bit of size but that size looked skinny compared to Jacks mammoth size. So with 50kg left on the bar dean started his routine. Even though Jack and Dean were good friends jack always took the piss out of dean for his inferior showings, mostly to try and spur him on but also to show his superiority and dominance over him, dean could not help but feel intimidated by jack, he daren’t tell him to shut up or go away in slight trepidation of what jack might do. “ Come on you skinny git, call that heavy lifting I can’t even see your pecs there that small and feeble, if you don’t start tryin harder im gonna crush you, now LIFT!!!” jack’s booming shout reverberated around the gym. Dean finished his first set and sat up, “ Jesus jack im tryin alright!!” Dean bit back a little. “that’s not trying that’s playing safe, you wanna grow ? You want to lift heavy!!! That isn’t heavy look!” Jack then proceeded to lift the loaded bar of the rack with one hand and start repping some shoulder presses, after 20 reps he re racked the bar. “see!!” “alright jack stop showing off ya big headed freak!!” dean sarcastically replied. “Jealous you skinny fuck? Well you better be coz unlike you I wanna grow! I wanna get bigger and stronger than ever before.” “ well maybe you do mate but im an athlete, my sport does not require me to get big n bulky, so i maintain what I have!” Dean tried to hide the fact he actually likes jack being all dominant etc coz it makes him hard, and whether jack will like the fact that dean loves being with this muscle mammoth. After dean had finished his chest routine he and jack decided to hit some biceps. As Jack was so big and strong the dumbells the gym had were to light for him so jack had to curl using an Olympic bar and plates, he started of light by curling 100kg for 15 reps, “easy!! Whack another 250kg on dean.” Dean added the weight. Jack composed himself, lifted the bar off the ground and slowly started to curl the 350kg bar, with each curl his massive biceps ballooned to unprecedented sizes, thick veins popped and stretched with every move, after hitting 10 reps he placed the bar back on the floor, looked in the mirror and hit a double bi pose, his biceps bulged and formed a gargantuan mound of granite muscle that looked bigger than his head, he relaxed then hit it again this time managing to squeeze an extra inch on top of his already impressive bi’s. Dean had never seen jack hit a bi pose before, his cock was now so hard it was making an impression in his shorts. “ WOW jack they are awesome man fucking huge!! Im gobsmacked!” “I can see your impressed, I only have to look at your shorts to notice that, ya big gay, come over here?” Dean walked over to where jack was, the size comparison was breathtaking, next to jack dean looked like a twig. “take your top off” jack asked Dean didn’t dare disagree so he took his shirt off, his tight body glistened with sweat. “now stand infront of me and flex!” Dean flexed his biceps, moderate sized peaks appeared from his arms, they looked pretty cut but looked no bigger than 15”. To rub the salt in more jack then flexed his bi’s behind him, his bi’s clearly 3x the size of deans. Then without warning Jack picked dean up and started curling him, every curl took deans face to within cms of jacks biceps, jack curled dean 20 times before putting him down. “you like that gay boy, your cock sure did!!” Dean looked down and saw a dark grey wet patch were he had cummed, he looked up and said, “ that was awesome!!” Jack and Dean made their way to the changing room.

He muscle-strutted across the stage one more time. A huge golden trophy in one hand. Punching the air with the other, to the rhythm of the audience chanting “Shadow... Shadow... Shadow...” He’d earned his moniker by just appearing on the scene - in a huge freaky condition, and then disappearing again, only resurfacing for the annual Olympia competition. This was his fourth year winning the title - easily beating off the other competitors. Huge as they were, some of them looking like teen amateurs in his presence. The audience beneath the stage were going wild. Shadow had something of a cult status. As he strutted around, in his wet-look black posers, barely able to cover his huge glutes, they took as many photos and videos of the 370 lb muscle beast as fast as their cameras could flash. These photos would fill tweets and tumblrs, be the stuff of dream jerk-off material for the following year. Theories about where he lived, how he grew, and how big he could get, would populate blogs and discussion forums, fiercely debated by people “in the know”. Theories about his age ranged from 20, because of his face, to 40, because of his size. Shadow’s size this year was at least 50 lbs bigger than last... and coming in at less than 5% bodyfat, every muscle ripped and swollen glistened brightly under the stage lights. His tightly cropped black hair matched his posers as it glistened, shining. His model-handsome face, square jawed with groomed short black beard gave him a look of supreme confidence, matching the golden tanned shiny body he carried with such swagger and poise. Shadow was a God. Just in case anyone forgot, the fans in the audience regularly shouted it out. As the music died down in the final moments of his victory strut, Shadow returned to the centre of the stage. The audience roars grew in volume, knowing what was coming next. A Shadow-down. He placed the huge golden muscle statue trophy between his legs and stood up straight slowly. Encouraging the roaring and shouts with his palms, he looked out in to the audience and grinned at his fans - devotees to his presence. Slowly, matching the rise in pitch of the audience cries, he raised his huge arms and twisted them so that the biceps started to swell even more. Pulling and locking into a full bicep pose - each ‘cep bigger than his head and vascular beyond belief - he rotated at the hips slightly so that everyone got a full view. The flashes from the camera were so constant that his both was bathed in a bright light, making it glisten even more. Then he moved into a crab position, flexing arms traps and delts, spreading his lats and shaking out his enormous thighs. Every one of his fibres were flexed to the max. The audience noise actually dimmed - Shadow had grown so much for this year’s competition, that he was resembling a living morph. He stood straight again, grinning at the noise reduction. All of a sudden, he grabbed his trophy and strutted off stage, each huge quad walking awkwardly around the other. As Shadow stepped behind the curtain, he stepped onto a small square platform, barely able to take his stance, his legs were spread so wide due to his enormous quads. He was breathing heavily with the effort of moving and flexing his huge frame, and his chest heaved up and down with each breath. As well as the oil, a film of sweat covered him, so even here, out of the glare of the lights, his body glistened. Shadow waited a moment on the platform, as if just focussing on being there. While he did, two men - both hugely muscular themselves, but looked like track athletes next to the mass of Shadow - approached him. As one reached down to the platform, the other stood behind Shadow. He reached around and fixed a mouthpiece with a funnel into Shadow’s mouth, pulling it tightly. The muscular beast didn’t resist, seemingly not noticing, and just stood there breathing. The guy laughed. "Fuckin huge bull trained so well at this stage, eh?" He then pulled a collar with silver studs “MUSCLE” around and clamped it on Shadow's thick, muscular neck. It was tight enough to press against his arteries, making them bulge visibly with each pump of the heart. Meanwhile his colleague was busy at Shadow's ankles. He pulled up out of the platform a kind of oily black material, pulling it up over his ankles and legs. It was a bodysuit, made of latex, with the interior slick wet. After it passed the ankles, the second man attached ankle collars and chained them to the bottom of the platform. He pulled the suit up, with some difficulty as it was so tight, around Shadow's calves, and then working slowly and methodically, over the huge quads. The material was so tight and shiny it looked like oil poured on the huge muscle. The man was clearly enjoying his work; slapping the muscle and massaging the huge latex bound beast as he worked to encase him. As the bodysuit finally came up towards Shadow's posers, which were the same colour and texture, the first man reached into a bag and lifted out several small silicon balls. He held them in one hand while pulling Shadow's tight black posers out with the other. He cupped the balls and placed them into Shadow's crotch. They were buzzing as he did. Releasing the poser strap with a snap, the balls resonated together to create a gentle, persistent buzzing in Shadow's crotch. He looked at Shadow, expecting a reaction, but nothing more than a gulp was perceptible. A small bit of drool appeared on the edge of his mouth, which the man wiped away. "Need the Bull in perfect fucking condition for your show later", he said, wiping it away. As his colleague worked the body suit up Shadow's torso, the shiny material revealing every cut and shred and vein of the magnificent physique, the first sprayed some oil on the torso just before it was covered. "Want him nice'n'shiny", he laughed. Finally, after 30 minutes preparation, Shadow was completely covered, including a hood over his hair with the synthetic material. Only his handsome rugged, perfect face was visible, and that was partially hidden by the mouthpiece. Shadow looked like a monstrous shiny plastic muscle beast. The first man assembled a cart trolley to the back of the platform and after strapping Shadows hands and neck to it with more straps and chains, he nodded to his colleague with satisfaction. A clear container with blue liquid was attached to the upright, and the second man took a pipe from this and attached it to the mouthpiece. The liquid level began to drop slowly. A tiny groan from Shadow was just about audible. After walking around their encased beast a few times, checking the bodysuit was perfectly smooth, the returned to the final task. Working together to tilt the platform back slightly, the weight of Shadow requiring serious effort, and slowly wheeled him away. Only the sound of slight buzzing filled the air. ___________________________ Like it? Ideas for what's next?

Four Chris was preparing his bag for his upcoming trip: he would be out of town for two weeks to compete in a level 1-event and the San Francisco-masters. He gazed up and turned his head around as he thought he heard a deep, beastly roar coming from the house next door. He gulped as it reminded him of his cousin's deep voice from his nightmare. "Must be imagining things", he said to himself and went into the bathroom to fetch some stuff. He had to grab the washbasin for support when a feeling of weakness fell over him. His vision went dark for a split second and his knees buckled while goose bumps appeared all over his body. He blinked a few times and looked at his reflection in the mirror. His tank top still clung to his well-trained, 215 pound frame but he could swear something was off: his wide, rounded shoulders that normally formed a strong line seemed to hunch forward slightly and his protruding pecs seemed to hang down a bit lower against his tank top as if his big muscles were pulled down by gravity. "Lack of sleep is getting to me", he said and discarded the thought. He grabbed his razor and toothbrush and put them in his bag. He tossed his bag over his shoulder and went downstairs. Next to his car keys on the kitchen table he found a note. "Some inspiration to bring back the gold" He turned the note around and discovered a picture of his girlfriend in her tiny, black bikini. He put the picture in his wallet and left, feeling a bit uneasy having to leave his girl behind. Ted had finished cleaning the cum-stained bathroom, pulled on a fresh tank top and his baggy hoodie and went out for a workout. He felt the energy flowing through his veins and his balls pulsing as they released amounts of testosterone in his body. He saw his cousin putting a bag in his car and headed over. "YO, Chrissy". Chris nearly jumped up as he heard the deep voice. He turned around and instinctively took a step back as he saw his big cousin strutting toward him. He looked up into 6 feet tall teen's eyes. Ted couldn't suppress a faint grin as he noticed his muscular cousin stepping back from him. "Recovered from our arm wrestling, Chrissy? Just say when ya want a rematch. I'ld love to wipe yar ass again", Ted said and intently stopped very close to his cousin. Chris gulped and tried not to look intimidated but his big cousin standing just inches in front of him, made him feel uncomfortably. His feeling of physical supremacy, regained during his shower-fuck, evaporated as he was reminded of his defeat. The musky smell surrounding the big guy added to his unease. "Just kiddin', Chrissy", Ted said and laughingly patted his cousin's muscular shoulder, "Ya going on a trip?". Chris relaxed a bit at the teen's smile but suppressed a grunt from the surprisingly hard pat. "Off two weeks to compete. Defending my titles.", he said while scanning his cousin's big frame hidden under the baggy hoodie. Ted followed his cousin's gaze and grabbed his right arm, playfully closing his big paw around the 20 inch bicep he destroyed last night. "How's yar arm feeling? Hurting after I crushed it?", he asked and clenched his paw some more around the hard muscle. "I'm fine", Chris said, his voice cracking slightly as his aching bicep was dented by the paw. He cleared his throat while the surprisingly hard grip released the strong orb of meat atop his right arm. "Could you do me a favor, Ted", he asked as he looked back up into his cousin's eyes. "Ya name it", Ted replied with a smug grin on his face. "Would you mind keeping an eye on Trisha? First time she can't come with me cause of her work. You're family and live next door, so…", Chris asked. "No worries, Chrissy. I'll take care of her", Ted answered. "Thanks a lot, Ted", Chris stated and extended his hand to his cousin. Ted grabbed his cousin's hand, his big paw engulfing it and shook it powerfully. Chris winced a little, a faint painful grunt escaping his mouth and pulled his hand from the strong grip. Or tried to. Ted grinned as he felt his cousin trying to break free. "See ya in two weeks, Chrissy", he said and opened his paw. Chris got in his car and drove off, seeing his cousin's smiling reflection in his side mirror. Jeremy put the voodoo doll at the bottom of his bag and left his uncle's gym in a hurry. He jumped into his car and raced off to the airport, happy he hadn't run into the teen beast and wouldn't have to see him for two weeks. He felt energy flowing through him and strutted proudly across the crowd. He noticed his rival Chris standing at the check-in and thought the guy already looked less intimidating. He followed him from a distance, feeling stronger and more confident by his rival diminished aura. He got in line for the flight a bit behind his rival and installed himself at the rear of the plane. Arriving in San Francisco, he took a cab to his hotel. He strutted through the hallway, checked in and got to his room on the second floor. As soon as he entered his room, Jeremy tossed his bag on the floor and fished out the voodoo doll. He went into the bathroom and stripped in front of the mirror. Strength flowed through his 209 pound body as he went through some poses, highlighting his excellent shape. He grabbed the doll and clenched his fist around it. Instantly, he felt more energy coursing through him. A few blocks away, Chris felt a sudden surge of weakness come over him in his hotel room. The room danced before his eyes, his knees buckled and he crashed down atop his bed. "Must be some kind of jetlag", he muttered to himself before passing out in a deep, dark sleep. "Yeah", Jeremy grunted to his reflection. He could swear his muscles were getting more defined in the mirror. He flexed his chest a final time, striations and veins pushed up against his skin and went to sleep as he gave the voodoo doll another squeeze. Back at home, Ted was having the workout of a lifetime. The double dose of his new steroid atop his usual dose of old steroids pumped energy and testosterone through his huge body. He had set new personal records on every lift, pushing more weight and pumping out more reps than ever. He'd been in the deserted gym, filling it with his grunts and roars, for three hours and moved into the final part of his grueling workout: smashing his arm muscles. His arms, together with his shoulders, had always responded best to his training. The 25 inch orbs of power atop his arms dwarfed his other huge muscles. "Let's see what my babies can with their new fuel", he groaned to himself as he grabbed the heaviest dumbbells. He raised the 130 pound dumbbells slowly and lowered them back down with perfect control. "Feels like a feather", he said and began cranking out perfect rep after perfect rep. Blood began flowing into the meaty masses, a web of veins branching off the thick vein that snaked from his delts over the biceps onto his thick forearms. "More", he gritted between his teeth as he kept moving the weight up and down, pumping more blood into his swelling biceps. In his sweatpants, his plump dick followed this lead and blood began inflating the thick shaft. "Bigger", he grunted in between fastening breaths. His pumped biceps began burning painfully, stretching his skin as he forced the muscles to grow bigger. The burning sensation turned into a stabbing pump, his arms shaking from the effort but Ted kept cranking out reps. His dick had hardened fully, its 10 inches tenting the front of his sweatpants and a small dark patch forming where his precum flowed from the dark red head. "50", he grunted as he lifted the dumbbells a final time and tossed them on the floor. He ripped off his sweat drenched tank top and moved in front of the big mirror. He extended his arms, marveling at the size of the stretched, shiny red biceps. He brought in his forearms, his arms shaking with cramps as the pumped muscles protested against the command of flexing. His biceps balled outward into perfectly rounded orbs that swelled atop his arms; their peaks rose up and up and up, a web of curly veins pushed up against his stretching skin. "FU…UGH…UGH…UGH…CK", he roared as his biceps swelled beyond their familiar 25 inches and stopped just over 26. His dick jolted, its dark red head popping up over his waistband and exploded: cum geysered upward in the air, splattering against his face, pecs and abs. Ted lowered his left hand and stroked his spasming shaft, coating the mirror and the weights with his thick cum while he kept flexing his beastly right arm. After ten blasts, his orgasm wore down and Ted grinned at his cum-drenched reflection in the cum-stained mirror. He lowered his right arm and strutted toward the shower, jerking off once more as the hot water cascading down on his pumped muscles pulled his cock back to hardness. A few days went by and the level 1-event leading up to the San Francisco masters began. Even though he weighted exactly the same as he did during his previous competition, Chris' body seemed somehow less intimidating. But as usual the champ cruised through the opening rounds, his 215 pound physique still besting his opponents, and proceeded to the final. Jeremy came in radiating confidence as he felt the energy from the curse flowing through his 209 pound body. His flexing was more graceful than ever and he too cruised into the semis. There, his road into the finals was surprisingly blocked by Tom, a local athlete that had been handed a wildcard into the event. Jeremy outsized Tom by a good 10 pounds, but was less ripped: the thin layer of fat covering his muscles from his winter bulk, made him look softer than the 199 pound Tom. The guy's vacuum ab-pose handed him the ticket into the final, leaving Jeremy frustrated on stage. Chris didn't really care about his opponent: he'd always focused on his own physique and continued this approach. In the final, the 16 pound difference he held, secured his win. He outsized the local guy in every pose and his own ripped yet seemingly lessened body dominated in every pose. Tom tried putting up a good show but whatever he tried, the champ did better. When Chris threw his signature pose, the back double bicep, Tom just stared in awe as the muscles on the champ's wide back mounded against each other and his intimidating arms rose into their 21 inched orbs of hard meat. Tom shook the champ's hand and gladly accepted second place with a smile as broad as Chris' one. Jeremy was in a foul mood back in his hotel room. He could accept his loss to Tom: he had been neglecting his own training because of the voodoo curse and his own physique was a bit off. But the news off Chris's victory made him roar in anger. He grabbed the voodoo doll and squeezed it with all his might. Instantly, a wave of energy flowed through him. "I'll get back to him next week at the master-event", he said and went to bed. The week went by and soon enough the San Francisco masters were up. Jeremy felt more energized with every passing day and felt atop his game going into the competition. He easily won his opening line up and the next round. In the quarter finals however, he bumped into Tom again. Just like a week earlier, the guy's rippedness sealed Jeremy's faith: the judges unanimously declared Tom the winner of the line up and made him advance to the semis. Jeremy's frustration nearly exploded as he heard that his big rival Chris was cruising through the competition and was to meet Tom in the final on Sunday. The night before the big final the full moon illuminated the San Francisco sky. In his bed Jeremy felt an enormous wave of energy hitting his body. He awoke from his deep sleep and stumbled into the bathroom, gasping at his reflection as he turned on the light: most of his body fat seemed to have evaporated from his body. He looked a good 20 pounds lighter but striations and veins decorated his relaxed muscles. " All my fat must have gone to Chris", he said and returned to bed. The final got underway but from the beginning it was clear that Chris would win. The 20 pounds of fat that had somehow beefed him up, had softened his intimidating muscles but handed him an 36 pound advantage on his opponent. Tom came in at his prime: ripped and vascular but his 199 pound physique was simply overshadowed by the champ. Chris' huge muscles looked a bit saggy and his flexes lacked their usual explosion of masculinity, but his size simply couldn't be denied. Tom did beat him in the vacuum ab-pose but lacked the real size in the other flexes. Chris took the win, his sixth consecutive master-event and prepared himself to get home. Back at home Ted's two weeks had gone by like a breeze: he'd had the most fantastic workouts ever and was horny all day. His gains had been fairly slow, only 5 pounds, but his housemate had told him to be patient with the experimental stuff. He got home from the gym and stepped out of his car and stepped over to the house next door. He took the spare key Trisha had given him and went in. He looked around the house to check if everything was ok. "What took you?". Ted turned around to find Trisha standing naked atop the stairs. He rushed up, pulled down his sweatpants as he reached her to free his hardening cock, pushed Trisha back against the wall and eagerly pushed his rock-hard 10 incher inside her. "Oh God", she grunted as the thick shaft invaded her. Ted kept pushing more and more of his dick into her tight pussy. "Yeah. So much bigger than Chris. God", Trisha groaned as the thick snake pushed deeper inside her. When half of Ted's cock was inside her, spasms shot through her frail 120 pound body and her juices flowed along the hot pole. Ted felt the wetness along his rock-hard shaft and drove two more inches of his meat into her. He positioned his hands against the wall and began driving his cock back and forth into her, gently. Incoherent sounds escaped Trisha's mouth, her hands clawed into the hoodie covering Ted's torso as the teen beast began fucking her. She was being shoved up against the wall by the force of his trusts, her eyes widening in disbelief and sheer lust as her feet left the floor. Ted's big balls drew tight and began to churn as he completely dominated his cousin's girlfriend, supporting her with just his 10 incher. "YEAUGHN!", he bellowed deeply as his orgasm exploded into her, filling her with his sticky juice. Black dots of pleasure danced in Trisha's sight and she fell limp against the teen beast, her head resting atop his protruding, heaving pecs. Ted felt the pressure build around his cock as more loads blasted from his balls into Trisha. Cum was already sliding from her, flowing along the exposed three inches of his cock onto his balls before sliding along the crevices of his thick thighs. After ten blasts his orgasm cooled down and he slowly withdrew from Trisha. He wrapped his right arm around her, easily lifting her up against his big frame, pulled up his pants with his left hand and carried her to bed. He gently put her atop the bed and went home.

* FINALLY FINISHED * This Chapter is the very first one with NONE of the JP story in it at all, but I will fill a gap in Chapter 21: between JP and Matt's workout at JP's house and heading to the park to meet Andrew and his friends. Once JP and Matt were done playing football with Andrew, Mike and Carrie, they decided to get changed before having supper at JP's house with his parents and Matt's mom. "Matt and I brought a change of clothes with us," JP said, as he and Matt held up their backpacks. "But I'm guessing that you three left your good clothes back at your hotel." "Yes we did JP," Andrew said, "But I brought a Washington Area map with me so that we could find our way here from our hotel." He unfolded the map on his truck hood and pointed to the pink line that went along the roads from the Comfort Inn Pentagon City to Burke Lake Park. He handed JP a pink highlighter and added, "All you have to do now JP is trace the route from here to your house on the map." "Why did you choose a pink highlighter to mark the map with Andrew?" JP asked him with a slight frown. "It's the only colour that wasn't already on the map, so it will stand out," Andrew replied. "I didn't pick that colour to make a crack at you and Matt, if that's what you're thinking." "Actually I was for an instant Andrew," JP conceded, lowering his eyes to the map to hide his embarrassment at being wrong. Then he looked back up at Andrew and added, "I'm sorry about that man." "Don't you know me better than that JP?" Andrew asked him with a hurt look on his face. "I'd never make fun of someone else's choice of partners! I'm not your brother Ryan you know!" "Yeah I do know that Andrew, but I'm just really nervous about anyone else finding out about me and Matt," JP revealed in a very soft voice. Andrew leaned closer to make sure he could hear everything JP was about to say. As he continued tracing the route to his house and filled in the address, he added, "With all the people who have found out today: Matt's mom, you and Carrie, I don't know how much longer we can keep the secret from getting out." "Well don't worry JP, I won't tell anyone: certainly not your parents at dinner tonight," Andrew promised him. "You can trust me like a brother; I hope you know that." "I do Andrew," JP assured him, breathing a big sigh of relief. He set down the highlighter after he finished tracing the route to his house: which was in the subdivision north of the park. "Now, onto a different subject Andrew." His big friend nodded in agreement and stood up to his full height. "As you can see from the map Andrew, my house is in the triangle formed by Burke Lake Road, the Fairfax County Parkway and Ox Road." "I have eyes JP!" Andrew teased him. JP looked up from the map and grinned as he saw Andrew smiling at him. "You know Andrew, even with the map highlighted, you might have a hard time finding my house without my help. Why don't Matt and I follow you guys back to your hotel in his car. Then all you'll have to do is follow me back to my house." "Good idea man," Andrew agreed, looking at his watch. "It's 3 pm now; what time are your parents expecting us for supper?" "5:30," JP replied. "Let's go back to your hotel where we can all get changed. Then Matt and I can show you three around the Springfield Mall and our other favourite hangouts before we head back to my house for supper." "Good ideas JP," Andrew said. "Let's go," he added, folding up the map and opening the driver's door of his truck. Carrie got into the passenger seat and Mike got into the back seat. Everyone closed their doors and wound down their windows. JP stood beside Andrew's window and said, "You lead the way to your hotel Andrew; I'll be right behind you." Andrew smirked at his choice of words. "I didn't mean it that way Andrew!" JP chuckled, feeling his face turn red with embarrassment. "But I'll expect you to be right behind me when we leave your hotel!" "Funny man JP, but I'm a giver, not a taker!" Andrew laughed, hoping to ease JP's embarrassment. His ploy worked as he saw the redness fade from JP's face. "Let's see if you can keep up with me," Andrew bragged, proving that JP wasn't the only one who could use double meanings. JP laughed as he headed to his car and Andrew started his engine. Once JP and Matt got into his car, Andrew pulled out of the parking lot and onto Ox Road. He turned right onto Burke Lake Road and headed northeast towards the intersection with Braddock Road. JP stayed right behind him as they headed northeast, passing a few houses on their left side. "I just thought of something Andrew," Carrie said suddenly. Andrew looked over at her briefly and saw her looking very thoughtful. He waited for a few seconds for her to speak and then prompted her, "Well don't keep it to yourself Carrie, unless it's something I shouldn't know." "It is something you should know, but JP forgot to tell us," Carrie said. "What's that?" Andrew asked her. "JP never told us if his parents know we're coming for supper or how much they know about us," Carrie replied. "I'm sure he asked them if we could come over for supper, but you're right: we don't know what he told them about us," Andrew realized. "I wonder if JP let them know that he thinks of me as his honorary big brother." "I don't know Andrew, but we should ask him when we get back to our hotel," Carrie decided. After about ten minutes, Andrew turned right onto Braddock Road and headed east towards the Capitol Beltway: specifically Interstate 495. "Hey JP, Andrew's taking Braddock Road towards the Beltway: a route we know very well," Matt said. "Yeah and he seems to know where he's going, probably because he highlighted the route from his hotel to the park," JP informed him. "He's probably back-tracking." He noticed Matt looking confused, so he elaborated, "He's retracing his route back to his hotel." Matt nodded in understanding as JP mentally kicked himself for forgetting that his boyfriend wasn't a genius like him. After another couple of minutes, the ramps of the Capitol Beltway came into view and Andrew took the southbound ramp of Exit 54B onto I-495. "Now we head south to Exit 57, which we will take onto Interstate 395 northbound," Carrie informed him, looking down at the map in her lap. "Thanks Carrie," Andrew said, keeping his eyes on the interstate traffic as he carefully merged with it. "This traffic is really heavy; it's worse than driving on the 401 in Toronto!" "Don't tell me that you're nervous Andrew!" Carrie teased him, trying to put him at ease. "You can flatten linebackers effortlessly in football games! Is my huge muscular man scared of a few little cars that he could probably overturn with no effort at all?" "Ok Carrie, I know what you're doing, and it's working," Andrew laughed. "Thank you for helping me relax; I'll have to reward you for that later." "How about we shower together back at the hotel and you can show me how grateful you are," Carrie suggested with a sexy smile. "Okay Carrie, but don't distract me too much with sex talk on this busy highway," Andrew ordered her. He smirked as he noticed her staring at his crotch and then swiftly caught her hand as she reached for the waistband of his gym shorts. "Don't even think about giving me Road Head Carrie; it would be too dangerous in this traffic!" Mike burst out laughing from the backseat and Andrew glared at him in the rear view mirror. "Shut up man; you're not helping!" "It's your fault for speaking your thoughts Andrew, when you should have kept them inside your head!" Mike chuckled. Carrie burst out laughing at his choice of words and Andrew finally cracked a smile: realizing that they had teamed up to make him relax. "Okay guys, it worked: I'm relaxed now," Andrew assured them. "Are you happy now?" "I'll only be happy when I can feel the soft touch of my big man in the shower," Carrie informed him. "You won't have long to wait for that Carrie, as long as you keep your eyes on the road so that we don't miss our exit," Andrew reminded her. Carrie smiled as she looked back at the road and imagined all the fun she and Andrew would have in their hotel shower later. Once JP's car and Andrew's truck got to the intersection of I-495 and I-395, they turned onto I-395 and took it northeast towards Alexandria, passing the Landmark Mall and skirting the northern Edge of the city. They finally reached Andrew's hotel at the Glebe Road exit and pulled into the parking lot. "There now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Andrew asked as he got out of his truck. "Whatever you say 'Mr Scott,'" JP laughed, recognizing Andrew's quote from Relics: a Star Trek Next Generation Episode. "So, now that we're here which rooms should Matt and I shower and get changed in?" "Mike's room," Andrew replied. "Carrie and I are going to have fun together alone in our hotel room." He glanced over at Carrie with a suggestive smirk, and she returned it with one of her own. Then Andrew turned back to JP and said, "Let's go upstairs now and we'll meet in the lobby in half an hour." JP nodded in agreement as he and Matt followed Andrew into the lobby and up the stairs to his room. "Were you afraid that our combined weight would be too much for the elevator Andrew?" JP asked him with a joking grin. "No JP!" Andrew laughed. "I just figured that star athletes like us don't take the elevator. That's something lazy people would do!" JP laughed as Mike opened the door and waved to Andrew as he and Matt followed Mike inside. "Alone at last Carrie," Andrew said, picking Carrie up effortlessly and taking her into his room. He closed the door with his free hand and began kissing Carrie softly as they headed into the bathroom. "I hope you're going to do more than kiss me Big Man," Carrie teased him with a sexy smile. "I'll hug you as well Carrie," Andrew promised her. "I want you to fondle me," Carrie ordered him. "Maybe later Carrie; I don't want to risk hurting you and the shower is going to be awfully slippery once it's all wet," Andrew reminded her, turning it on. "And so will you Andrew; I'll make sure of that!" Carrie chuckled. "Well then, you'd better start right now Carrie," Andrew decided, making sure the bathroom door was closed. He smirked as Carrie struggled to take off his skintight t-shirt. "What's the matter Carrie: is my t-shirt too tight for you to get off?" "Yes it is Andrew, so I'll let you do it," Carrie chuckled, as Andrew peeled off his t-shirt. "I'll have to figure out some other way to make you happy." "I certainly will be if you keep doing what you're doing Carrie," Andrew assured her, as she began fondling his massive pecs and eight-pack abs. "You mean if I keep doing you," Carrie suggested with a sexy smirk as her soft hands continued to explore his massive muscles. "I don't think that would be a good idea Carrie, at least not until we're both legally consenting adults," Andrew said seriously. Carrie nodded in agreement, not knowing the real reason Andrew was reluctant to have sex with her: he was afraid he would hurt her with his great size and strength. "I'll just keep massaging your massive muscles Big Man." "Yeah Carrie, you've waited since this morning to worship my massive muscles, haven't you?" Andrew asked her with a cocky smirk. "Yeah I have Big Man," Carrie replied, closing her eyes in pleasure as Andrew gently massaged her face and neck. She quivered in anticipation as Andrew bent down and gently kissed her. As his massive arms came gently around her slender frame, Carrie felt tears running down her face. "I love you so much Andrew, and it only grows deeper the more intimate we become!" "Well don't worry Carrie, I'll make sure it gets better each time," Andrew promised her, gently wiping her tears of happiness off her face. "I look forward to it Andrew, and it will be great when we go all the way: hopefully before Christmas," Carrie hoped. Andrew smiled and nodded: feeling nervous about having sex with Carrie for the first time, but only because he was afraid that he would accidentally hurt her with his great strength. Knowing how irresistible his massive muscles were for her, Andrew no longer had any doubts about performing up to and beyond Carrie's expectations. For the next 20 minutes, Andrew and Carrie fondled, hugged and kissed as they had their shower. Then they got changed into their clothes for dinner. They made sure they had their ID and US money and then stepped out into the hallway, locking the door behind them. "Oh, no one to meet us," Andrew said, as he noticed that the other three were not out of their hotel room yet. "Good, that means they aren't ready yet, so we were still able to beat them even though we had fun with each other in the shower," Carrie said. "Yeah, but they had to take their showers one at a time," Andrew realized. "That means it took twice as long." "Don't you mean three times as long Andrew?" Carrie corrected him. Andrew shook his head with a slight smile and Carrie nodded in sudden understanding, realizing that JP and Matt had probably taken their shower together. "Sorry about my mistake Andrew." "No problem Carrie," Andrew assured her. "Now I'm going to see if they're ready." But he didn't get the chance; as soon as he stepped up to the room next door, the door opened and JP stepped out. "Hey Andrew, I see you and Carrie are all ready for dinner," he said. "Yes we are JP; are you and Matt ready to lead us to the Springfield Mall?" Andrew asked him. "Yes Andrew, but I was hoping I could ride alone with you," JP requested. "I'd like to prepare you for the reception you'll face at my parents house. Matt can follow us with Carrie and Mike in my car." "That's fine with me JP," Andrew agreed, after Carrie nodded in approval. "Let's go." As they walked down the hall to the elevator, Carrie smiled at Andrew, very happy that she had such a great boyfriend. JP led them to the elevator, and the doors opened as they approached. A crowd of people got off the elevator and then the five teenagers stepped inside. Andrew pressed the lobby button and the elevator doors closed. After the doors closed and the elevator began to descend, Mike said to JP, "My older brother's name is Matt." "That's good Mike; what does he do?" JP asked him. "He's in the Infantry in the Canadian Army," Mike replied proudly. "He's one of Andrew's instructors during his reserve weekends." JP nodded as the elevator stopped and the doors opened to reveal the hotel lobby. As he led the way across the lobby to the front doors, he said, "We'll make the Springfield Mall our first stop," he added, looking down at Andrew's map. "Will we see any of your friends there JP?" Andrew asked. "No I don't think so Andrew," JP replied. "I never see much of them during the summer." He pushed open the front door and led everyone outside. "See you at my house Matt and be careful driving my car." "I will JP," Matt promised him, waving goodbye. "Since you commented on my car when I arrived at the park earlier, you won't have any trouble finding it in the parking lot JP," Andrew said. JP nodded and tried to figure out how to tell Andrew what he had noticed without making his huge friend mad. Once they got to Andrew's truck, JP took a deep breath and said, "I have something to tell you Andrew, but I don't know how you'll react." "Then you'd better tell me now, before we get in the truck JP," Andrew warned him. "That way, you won't be trapped in a confined space with me if you make me mad." "OK Andrew: here goes," JP said, screwing up his courage. "Basically, when you were bragging about the fun you were going to have with Carrie in your hotel room, you were acting just like Ryan does." "Again with your brother JP," Andrew sighed in exasperation. He opened his truck door and added, "I really hope I get to meet him, considering how obsessed with him you are. From what you've told me, he sounds a lot like some teammates of mine who are arrogant jocks." "Ryan used to be on the wrestling team with me before he focused only on football," JP said as Andrew started the truck. "Now he has a full ride to Virginia Tech." "Are you proud of him for that?" Andrew asked him as they pulled out of the parking lot. "I would be if he wasn't such an arrogant prick about it!" JP snapped. "He took off a summer road trip without even telling our parents where he was going! They just hope that he makes it to Tech in time for the first football practice." "You know, since he's an incoming Freshman, he'll probably be Red-shirted," Andrew informed him. He noticed JP grinning and added, "That should knock his ego down a notch or two." JP's grin widened as he realized that Andrew had once again found a way to make him feel better. Then he suddenly realized something else. "Hey Andrew, does that mean that you won't get any playing time in your freshman college season either?" "I will get some playing time if we win the Provincial Championship this fall JP," Andrew predicted with a cocky smirk. "However, we'll have to wait to see how much playing time the football coaches at Ohio State offer me." He noticed JP's grin turn into an excited smile at the mention of the school he wanted to go to for college wrestling. "Consider my recruiting visits this summer practice for yours next summer JP," Andrew advised him. "By bringing you along with me, you'll be on the radar of the college wrestling coaches and maybe they'll come see some of your matches this fall. Make sure you wear your varsity wrestling jacket on my recruiting visits and bring your District Finalist medal as well." "I will Andrew," JP promised his big friend, really happy that Andrew was preparing him early for his college career. "After supper, I'll get my jacket and medal out of my room for the road trip that starts tomorrow. Did you bring your football jacket with you Andrew?" "Yeah man, it's in the back of the truck in my gym bag," Andrew replied with a smug grin. "I'll probably wear it at the mall; it should be cool enough in there." "Good, then we can see how close in colour scheme they are," JP said, suddenly remembering that Andrew's school colours were blue and white just like his. As they approached the Capitol Beltway, Andrew said, "There's a question I've been meaning to ask you JP." "You want to know how much my parents know about you," JP guessed. When Andrew nodded, JP added, "You also want to know if I got their permission to go on your recruiting visits with you." "And what is the answer to those two questions JP?" Andrew asked him with a big grin. "I'll tell you right now Andrew," JP replied. "We should be at the Springfield Mall by the time I'm done." Andrew nodded at him to go ahead and JP began speaking. ================================================================================================================================================= A few hours before, JP and Matt had gone over to JP's house for their daily morning workout in JP's basement gym. Then they went upstairs to shower and change for lunch with JP's parents. They came downstairs to find JP's parents finishing the lunch preparations in the kitchen. "Good morning JP," his mom Maureen greeted him. "Did you and Matt have fun last night at the National Mall?" "Yes we did Mom, though there was one unpleasant incident that had a positive outcome." "What happened son?" his dad Paul asked him, as his wife ushered them into the dining room for lunch. "A big college guy and his friend were sexual harassing Chrissy so I intervened," JP replied as he sat down at the dining room table. He noticed his dad's face clouding with rage so he hurried on with the story. "One of the big guys wanted to fight me, so when he went to punch me I twisted his arm behind his back, put him in a choke hold and threw him to the ground. Chrissy thanked me after they ran away and then we suddenly noticed two huge guys approaching us. I was about to fight them too, but Chrissy told me that they had been approaching to help her out before I got there. I thanked the huge guys for being ready to help Chrissy out and then Matt and I introduced ourselves to them. We got to know them better throughout the evening and they watched the fireworks with us later, after introducing us to their friend Carrie of course." "And what are the names of these two huge heroes?" JP's dad asked him with a big grin. "Andrew Pearson and Mike Stevenson," JP replied with a proud grin. "Andrew Pearson: the YouTube High School Football Star from Orillia, Ontario, Canada?" JP's mom asked in astonishment. "That's what I asked and Andrew confirmed it," JP replied. He turned to his dad and added, "He's a really great guy Dad and I got to know him quite well in the half hour before the fireworks started." After telling his parents everything he and Andrew had talked about, he showed them the pictures and videos he had taken of Andrew the night before. Then he concluded the story by saying, "I told Andrew that I'd ask you two if he could come over for dinner tonight with his friends to meet you and Matt's mom." "Well considering all that you've told us about him, that sounds like a great idea son," Maureen said, as they continued eating lunch. She looked over at Paul, who nodded in agreement, and added, "He sounds like a great role model for you and I'm glad that his success hasn't gone to his head." "It sounds to me like Andrew could teach your brother Ryan a thing or two about what being a big brother is all about," Paul said with pride in his eyes. "We'd be honored to have a famous Canadian high school football star eat dinner with us tonight." JP grinned, knowing that those words were high praise indeed coming from his dad. "Did you say that Andrew and his friends are going on recruiting visits throughout the Mid-West this week?" "Yeah Dad, but I guess I forgot to tell you what Andrew offered to do for me and Matt," JP realized. "Did Andrew offer to take you two on his recruiting visits with him?" Paul guessed with a glowing grin of pride. JP nodded and Paul shouted, "I knew it! Andrew is indeed the role model you need right now and he's thought of everything to help you secure your college wrestling career!" "You sound more excited about it than I am Dad!" JP teased him. "I am excited JP; Andrew's going to help your college wrestling dreams come true," Paul predicted. "He's really filling the role of the big brother very well so far. We'll have to talk to him over supper of course, but I can't think of anyone I'd rather have looking after you than Andrew Pearson." "I don't need anyone to look after me Dad, not after I took down that punk who was bugging Chrissy last night!" JP informed his dad with a glare. He flexed his biceps and snarled, "I can take care of myself and anyone who cares to test that theory is going to regret it!" "I should have chosen my words more carefully son, but so should you," Paul warned him with a frown. "I hope you don't try to start anything with Andrew; judging by his size, he could crush you like a paper cup!" "And Ryan too!" JP predicted with a cocky smirk. "Stop it son!" Maureen shouted angrily. "Ryan may have been acting like a jerk for the last few years but he's still your brother. He might need you one day, so don't turn your back on him now." Mrs. Maloney had no idea how prophetic those words were, but in a couple of years they would all find out. "Okay Mom, I understand," JP said, mostly to placate her because he couldn't imagine a future where he and Ryan would ever be close again. "I'll think about what you said and try to think of Ryan as my brother and not my rival." "Good for you son," Paul commended him. "But speaking of rivals, both you and Andrew lost your respective championships last season, didn't you?" "Yeah Dad, but why are you bringing that up now?" JP asked. "Maybe during your road trip this week, you and Andrew can mentor each other on how to win your respective championships this season," Paul replied. "I could also give you two some tips during supper tonight." "Good idea Dad," JP said sheepishly, looking down at his plate as he finished his lunch. "I'll tell your ideas to Andrew when I see him at Burke Lake Park this afternoon." "Good for you son: you're including him in your workouts," Paul said approvingly. "After supper you should show Andrew your basement weight room and the wrestling room at school." "More good ideas Dad," JP agreed, as he and Matt stood up from the table. "Can Matt and I head over to the park now to meet Andrew and his friends?" "As soon as you call your mother Matt," Maureen replied, standing up to collect the lunch dishes. "Invite her over for supper and you can tell her all about meeting Andrew and his friends last night." Matt nodded and went into the living room to make the call. His mom agreed to come over to JP's house for supper that night and told him, rather hesitantly, to have fun with JP and his new friends in the park that afternoon. Then Matt and JP said goodbye to JP's parents and headed over to Burke Lake Park to go running with Andrew and his friends. ============================================================================================================================================= "Good story JP," Andrew commended him, as they pulled into the Springfield Mall parking lot. "Well, here we are at the Springfield Mall." The 2006 sign below is only one year after my story takes place: July 2005. "I have eyes Andrew!" JP teased him, throwing Andrew's earlier line back in his face and pointing to the mall sign. Andrew grinned at him and then noticed JP's car pull up beside them with Matt, Carrie and Mike inside. "Hey Matt, I see you made it okay." "Yes I did JP; so what will we do in the mall for the next hour or so?" Matt asked him. "We'll just walk around and stretch from our workout this morning and our jogging this afternoon," JP replied. Then he got out of Andrew's truck and turned around to see Andrew putting on his blue and white ODCVI Varsity football jacket. "And now I know what Andrew's going to do: show off his jock status to all the people on the mall." "Yeah JP, I have to give into the jock image sometime so it might as well be right now," Andrew informed him with a cocky smirk. He locked his truck and added, "I'm ready if you are JP." "Yeah I am Andrew," JP said, following Andrew to the nearest mall entrance. Andrew led the way into the mall and headed for the food court, once he checked the directory to find out where it was. "Supper's not for a couple of hours Andrew." "Yeah I know, but I haven't eaten since lunch so I'm starving man," Andrew informed him. "These huge muscles need constant fuel to stay well maintained." "I can understand that man, but no one could miss how well maintained your huge muscles are. There should be a Five Guys in the food court." Once they got to the food court they realized that there was no Five Guys there. "It looks like you made a mistake JP: there's no Five Guys here," Mike said. "Thank you Captain Obvious," JP snapped. "I don't suppose you can tell me where the nearest Five Guys is?" "You're the one who lives in this area JP; you tell us," Mike dared him, not letting JP know that he knew the answer. "Right across the Interstate on Old Keene Mill Road," JP suddenly remembered. "Let's go: I'll show you guys my favourite restaurant." "And then I can return the favour if you ever come up to Orillia," Andrew offered. Everyone nodded in agreement and then retraced their steps back to their cars. As they walked, JP realized that there was something different about Andrew, but he couldn't put his finger on it. His huge friend seemed taller than he had been before their visit to he hotel, and there was a nagging sound that JP had constantly heard since they had entered the mall. JP slowed, lost in thought, and then looked ahead at Andrew. He finally noticed the source of the nagging sound he had heard. "You're wearing cowboy boots Andrew: that's why you're suddenly taller," JP realized. "Am I?" Andrew asked, looking down. "Oh yeah I am. But then I've always worn cowboy boots since Grade Five, so I didn't even notice. I only wear shoes when I have to dress up, work out or play sports. And the reason that I'm noticeably taller is because the heels on my boots are three inches, not the normal inch and a half. So I stand 6 foot 10 with my boots on: making me the same height as the Undertaker. So I may have to duck my head to get into your house." "Don't worry about it Andrew; you look really cool and tough," JP commended him. "It's no wonder everyone we've passed has stared at you in awe and fear!" "Don't forget about yourself JP; you attract a lot of attention as well," Andrew reminded him. "Yeah I noticed that yesterday at the National Mall and on the train," JP said, suddenly looking embarrassed. "Don't feel embarrassed JP; it comes with the territory of being a top athlete," Andrew informed him. "Just wait until the interviews start!" "You've had interviews Andrew?" JP asked him in astonishment. "Yeah man, I was Athlete of the Week on VR News at the end of the last football season," Andrew replied with a smug grin. "Then the college recruiting visits started a few months ago." "Which schools did you visit this spring Andrew?" JP asked him, as they reached Andrew's truck. "Penn State, West Virginia, Clemson, Georgia Tech, Alabama, Florida and Miami," Andrew replied, his smug grin morphing into a cocky smile. "But those were Junior Day visits, held during March Break. I was one of only 50 high school junior athletes at those events." They got into Andrew's truck and he started it. "The first visits to the schools just for me start tomorrow when we visit Ohio State." "You mean The Ohio State," JP corrected him as they pulled out of the parking lot. Andrew smiled and nodded; realizing that of course JP would know the proper name of the school he wanted to wrestle at during his college years. "What other schools are we visiting this week Andrew?" "Notre Dame and the University of Michigan," Andrew replied, pleased that he would be able to visit three US Football schools that week. "I would have visited Michigan State as well, but they don't offer tours of their football stadium. An Unofficial Visit isn't much good without being able to tour the stadium where I might play college football one day." As they drove across the bridge over the Interstate, JP asked, "Will we spend one night at each school Andrew?" "That's the plan JP, but I'll have to check Mapquest to be sure," Andrew replied. "From what I remember though, the first leg of the trip takes us to Ohio State in six and a half hours. We'll pass halfway between Pittsburgh and Morgantown on Interstate 70 westbound." "And I'm guessing that the schedule is more flexible since we're driving," JP guessed, as they stopped at the red light at the west end of the bridge. Andrew nodded in agreement as the light turned green and they were able to turn left before the oncoming traffic started moving. Andrew parked his truck in front of the Five Guys restaurant and waited for Matt to pull up beside him in JP's dark green Geo Prism. Then everyone went into the restaurant and lined up behind an older couple until it was time to order their food. The guys at the counter soon took their order, staring at JP in awe and Andrew in fear. Andrew felt exasperated that he got the same reaction everywhere he went but he was also relieved that JP was diverting some of the attention off of him. As they waited to pick up their order, Andrew sent Mike to pick a table for them with Matt and Carrie. Then he turned back to JP and noticed him glancing warily around the restaurant. "What is it JP; what has you so nervous?" Andrew asked, though he could guess. "I'm making sure no one from school is in here," JP replied. "I'm really popular there, even more so now than my brother, and since we have a supper timing to meet, I don't want there to be any more delays." He smirked as Andrew grinned at his use of a military phrase. "Just a phrase I picked up from my dad Andrew." Andrew nodded with a smile and hen turned back to the counter to pick up their order. JP breathed a sigh of relief: pleased that Andrew hadn't figured out that JP didn't want anyone from school telling Ryan about his new friend Andrew. But his hopes were dashed as he turned towards their table and noticed a huge familiar figure coming through the front door. "Oh no," JP groaned in dismay; not pleased at all to see his brother's former teammate on the football team. "Let's get to our table Andrew, before he sees us." "Who are you talking about JP?" Anew asked, as they reached their table. "It's Tyler Backton: Ryan's teammate on the football team," JP replied, putting a hand to his forehead in dismay as they sat down. "Of all the people I didn't want to see today, he's the one who could tell Ryan all about you!" "Maybe if he tells Ryan that I took over his role as your big brother, it will shame Ryan into reclaiming it," Andrew suggested hopefully. "Don't worry JP; I'll stand up and hopefully my size will scare Ryan once he hears about it." He stood up, revealing himself and drawing Tyler's attention. Tyler's eyes widened in astonishment at Andrew's size and he carefully approached JP's table. "Hey JP, who's your big friend?" Tyler asked hesitantly once he has stopped beside JP's table. "It's huge friend actually, and his name is Andrew Pearson," JP replied, standing up from the table. Andrew stepped forward to shake Tyler's hand, towering over him even though Tyler stood 6 foot 3 and weighed 275 pounds. Tyler had to conceal a wince at the strength in Andrew's grip, guessing that JP's huge friend could bench a lot more than 400 pounds. "Good to meet you Tyler," Andrew said. "You used to play high school football with JP's older brother Ryan, didn't you?" "Yeah this is my senior year coming up so it's my last chance to impress Penn State enough to get a full football scholarship." "Then we have something in common: we both want to earn a full ride from the NCAA," Anew informed him. "I hope to get into Miami but depending on how the recruiting visits go, I could be persuaded to stay closer to home: like Ohio State perhaps." Andrew glanced significantly at JP as he finished speaking, who took it as a cue to say goodbye to Tyler. "It was good seeing you Tyler but we have a dinner timing to meet. I'll say hi to Ryan for you when I see him again and I'll see you at the wrestling camp in six weeks." "Sure JP; see you later," Tyler said agreeably. He nodded at Andrew and added, "Nice meeting you man." "You too Tyler," Andrew said, giving him a big grin. "See you later." Tyler nodded and headed out of the restaurant with his take-out order. Once he was gone, Andrew turned to JP and said, "There now, that wasn't much of a delay, was it JP?" JP shook his head and grinned: pleased that Andrew had once again found a way to make him feel better. Half an hour later, as they were driving to JP's house, JP said, "I have a very important question to ask you Andrew." "What is it Big Guy?" Andrew asked him, glancing over at him with a small grin. "What's it like to be you?" JP asked, looking over at Andrew with great respect in his eyes. "What do you mean JP?" Andrew asked, even though he had an idea. "You're admired and respected by everyone, even my friends, you're a god on the football field and lots of NCAA schools want you to join their football teams. How have you stayed so humble even though you've been a super jock for years?" "Super jock: that's a good one JP," Andrew said with a smirk. He noticed his smaller friend looking at him seriously, waiting earnestly for an answer. "It hasn't been easy not to let all the attention go to my head for the past seven years. But once I took care of the bully in Grade Five, everyone admired and respected me for being their hero. I couldn't bear to disappoint them, so I had to play the role of the humble big guy." "So you're just pretending to be humble Andrew?" JP asked, looking disappointed. "At first I was, but then it became my natural state," Andrew informed him. "I had a rough time when my Grandpa died almost a year ago and I gave into the cocky jock role to cover it up. But when I got suspended from the team and then we lost the Provincial Championship, it put things in perspective and I returned to my humble and gentle nature. Also, everyone wanted to learn how I got so big and strong so I gradually became a mentor for the small guys: training them to become football players like me in high school." JP grinned: pleased that his image of Andrew as a gentle giant had not been tarnished. "It sounds like you've made nothing but good decisions in your life man." "I know it seems that way now, but 2004 was quite frankly a 'Year of Hell' for me," Andrew informed him with a frown. "That was the title of a two-part Voyager episode in November 1997," JP suddenly realized. "Yeah, but unlike the crew of Voyager, the events were not erased by a magic reset button so I have to live with those memories for the rest of my life," Andrew said seriously. "I was allowed to play the final two games of last season and I didn't let my emotions get the better of me even when we lost the Provincial Championship. Coach Everson noticed my newfound maturity and helped me get invites to Junior Days here in the States a few months ago. And now I'm going on my first Unofficial Visits to schools in the Midwest." "Are you bringing Mike along, just like me, to help him get exposure to the college coaches?" JP asked him, astonished at Andrew's story of maturity discovery. "Yeah man, he was my first protege: I taught him everything he knows," Andrew replied proudly. "I want to help him realize his college football dreams. Unless the college coaches ban me from bringing anyone else along on my recruiting visits, I'll make sure the limelight shines on all my proteges." JP nodded, pleased with Andrew's explanation, and then just glanced occasionally at his huge friend in awe during the rest of the drive to his house. Andrew noticed and smiled quietly to himself: pleased that he inspired such admiration from a famous athlete like JP Maloney. Once they arrived at JP's house, Andrew got out of his truck and took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. "It's okay Andrew, I told my parents nothing but good things about you," JP assured him, as Matt pulled up in JP's car. "You lead the way into your house with Matt JP," Andrew ordered him. "I'll follow with Carrie and Mike." JP nodded and led the way to the front porch. As he climbed the front steps, the front door opened and JP's parents stepped out. "Hello son, how are you?" JP's dad asked him. "I'm fine Dad: I had a great day with my friends," JP replied. He motioned behind him and added, "I'd like you to meet my new friend Andrew Pearson." Mr. Maloney, who rarely had an emotional reaction to anything, widened his eyes in astonishment at how huge and muscular Andrew was. JP, on the other hand, grinned at how much bigger and more muscular Andrew was than his big brother Ryan. "I'm very pleased to meet you Andrew," Mr. Maloney said, revealing his admiration for Andrew by using his first name right away. He stepped forward and shook Andrew's hand eagerly, who remembered to be gentle so that he wouldn't crush Mr. Maloney's hand. "JP has told me and my wife all about you." "All good things I hope, but I guess we'll find out once you invite me inside," Andrew said. "Yes you will, come on in Andrew," JP's mom said, ushering everyone into the house. She shook his hand once they were inside and added, "Welcome to the Maloney house Andrew." "Thank you Mrs. Maloney," Andrew said, taking off his boots. "You're welcome Andrew, but please call me Maureen," Mrs. Maloney ordered him. "And call me Paul," Mr. Maloney added. As everyone took off their shoes, Matt's mom stepped out from the living room. "This is Mrs. Anderson: Matt's mom," Maureen said, as Andrew and his friends stepped forward to shake her hand. "I'm very pleased to meet all of you," Mrs. Anderson said as they all stepped into the living room across from the kitchen. "So Andrew, JP tells me that you can bench-press more than 500 pounds," Paul said once they were all sitting down. "More like 700 pounds actually, but who's counting?" Andrew asked with a smug grin. His grin faded as he noticed everyone staring at him with a mix of awe and fear. "If you have enough weight plates in your basement gym, I'd be glad to demonstrate," he offered. "We should have enough plates downstairs," Paul assured him. "After all, JP here benches over 300 pounds," he added, smiling proudly at his son. "Let's go downstairs and find out." Andrew and his friends followed the Maloney's downstairs to the basement weight room: where Ryan and then JP had turned themselves into the gods of Central High School. While Mike and Carrie stared at all the machines and weights with astonishment, Andrew didn't seem surprised. "You don't seem surprised like your two friends to see an entire gym down here Andrew," Paul said. "I have one in my basement at home Sir and it looks a lot like this," Andrew informed him. "Call me Paul Andrew," Mr. Maloney advised him. "Because it's time for a rhyme Paul?" Andrew asked him with a smug grin. "Very funny Andrew!" Paul laughed, as JP added extra weight plates to the bench-press to bring it up to 700 pounds. "Twice as much as I bench but I'll get there one day," JP predicted. "First you have to win the State Championship JP," Paul reminded him with a frown. "Yes Dad, I will," JP assured him, putting the locking pins in place. "But before any of that happens, we have to see if Andrew can truly bench 700 pounds or if he was exaggerating." "Hey JP, don't talk about me like I'm not in the gym!" Andrew ordered him. He flexed his massive biceps with a cocky smirk and added, "Last time I checked, I was in the gym!" "There's no way anyone could miss you, considering how big and muscular you are!" JP assured him. "Let's see how effective these huge muscles are in the gym!" Andrew shouted in excitement, laying down on the bench. "Get your cameras ready everyone!" Andrew grabbed the loaded bar as JP lowered it into his hands. Then he lowered it to his chest and pushed it up fairly easily, causing his friends to look amazed at his awesome strength. Since JP was serving as his spotter, though he really didn't need one, Mike was free to capture Andrew's massive strength using the video mode on his digital camera. Mike, like everyone else, watched with amazement as Andrew benched 700 pounds easily, making it look almost effortless. Andrew raised the bar for the tenth and final rep, letting JP put it back on the brackets. "Good job Andrew," JP congratulated him. "How do you feel?" "It felt easier than it did last week," Andrew replied with a big grin. "I didn't even break a sweat this time. Do you have any more weight plates so that I can try again for my maximum of 800 pounds?" "No I don't Andrew," JP replied, his eyes wide with fear and amazement at Andrew's awesome strength. "Too bad JP," Andrew said, sitting up from the weight bench. "I guess I'll have to see if the gym at Ohio State has enough weight plates to challenge me." "Yes, when you take JP and Matt there," Paul said. He looked at his watch and added, "It's time we got dinner started, so we'll go upstairs now. Mike, you come upstairs with us so that you can email that video to the colleges you and Andrew will visit this week." "I'd like to stay down here with Andrew until dinner's ready," JP said. "I have something to show him that I think he'd like to see." Matt glanced over at JP as he headed upstairs and JP nodded, confirming that he was going to show Andrew The Wall. "See you upstairs later for dinner Andrew," Carrie said, standing on her toes to give him a kiss. Andrew bent down to meet her soft lips, kissing her softly. He folded his massive arms around her gently as he breathed in the fruity aroma of her perfume. "See you soon Carrie," he said, stroking her face softly as he drew back from her soft lips. JP grinned as he saw the gentle smile on Andrew's face as Carrie walked upstairs. "You really love her, don't you Andrew?" JP asked his huge friend. "Yeah man, in fact, I hope we get married before we go to college," Andrew replied. He turned to JP, saw him smiling, and realized that he was probably thinking of Matt. "Now JP, enough about me; what did you want to show me?" "What I call 'The Wall' Andrew," JP replied, leading him to a door in the far left corner of the basement. "I've only shown this to Matt, so I hope you realize how much I trust you that I'm letting you see it too." "I understand JP," Andrew assured him. "Let's see what this 'Wall' looks like," he added, as they stopped in front of the door. JP grinned and opened the door, turning on the light so that Andrew could see the contents of the room for himself. As Andrew looked around the back room, his eyes widened as he saw the pictures of JP's progress from a skinny kid to a muscular jock. "You look surprised Andrew," JP said with a smug grin. "Don't you have pictures of your progress at home?" "Just in a photo album, not all over two walls JP," Andrew said with a slight frown of disapproval. JP seemed to twitch at the words 'Photo Album' and Andrew noticed. "What is it Big Guy?" he asked softly. "I have something else to show you Andrew," JP replied. "Again, this is something I've shown only one other person: Matt." Andrew watched as JP walked over to a cabinet in the far corner of the back room. He opened a drawer and pulled out a photo album: the same one he had shown Matt after their visit with Matt's dad. "Are those more pictures of you JP?" Andrew asked with a big grin. "No Andrew, these are pictures of my brother," JP replied seriously. He opened the album and showed Andrew the pictures of his big brother Ryan: from when he was a fat kid in Grade Five to when he became a high school jock. "When Ryan was a fat kid he was always nice to me and I idolized him: following him around everywhere. He was the perfect big brother back then." "So what happened JP?" Andrew asked him gently, as they looked through more pages of the album. "As he got leaner and more muscular, he began to pull away from me, especially once high school started and he made the football team," JP replied. "Once he became a jock, he no longer had time for me." "Then who taught you how to work out when you got to high school?" Andrew asked with a confused look on his face. "Actually Ryan did, but only because I begged him to," JP replied sadly. "He didn't offer to do it; I had to bug him until he gave in. Then he told me that if I worked out a bit, perhaps even joined the wrestling team he was on, I wouldn't get picked on at school. You might not believe this Andrew, but I was barely 100 pounds two years ago." "I know, I can see the pictures JP," Andrew reminded him, pointing to the left side of the first wall. "Yeah that's true," JP realized. "Anyway, Ryan became my personal trainer and workout partner almost two years ago and he helped me become what I am today." "So what happened JP?" Andrew asked, figuring that they would soon get to the heart of the matter. "What happened between the two of you that turned you from workout partners into rivals?" "I really don't know Andrew," JP replied, looking down at his feet. "Are you sure JP?" Andrew asked him seriously, handing back the photo album. "You never gloated when you began to catch up to his size and strength? You never made fun of him when he got stuck on a weight-lifting plateau or put on a few pounds of fat?" JP's jaw dropped in astonishment at Andrew's insight but then his face fell as the full impact of his big friend's words hit him. "Oh no," he whispered, sitting down on the bench with his chin in his hands. "It's all my fault Andrew: I pushed Ryan away by doing everything you described during my last workout with him three months ago! Instead of encouraging him when he got stuck at 325 on the bench-press for three months, I gloated that I was only a few dozen pounds behind him. I rubbed my success in his face instead of thanking him for helping me get to where I am today!" "I'm afraid so JP, but you're not the only one to make those mistakes," Andrew assured him. "I did the same thing with Steve almost seven years ago, even though he never trained me. I certainly didn't think about our friendship when I gloated about suddenly being bigger and stronger than he was when we started Grade Five!" "You were only ten years old Andrew; you probably didn't know any better," JP assured him. "But I on the other hand was already 16 years old three months ago and I still made fun of Ryan!" "Don't feel too bad JP; at least you still spent time with him all these years," Andrew reminded him. JP's face brightened with a small smile as he realized that Andrew was right. "I, on the other hand, completely neglected Steve the summer before Grade Five, even though we had been best friends since Nursery School! And then to make matters worse, once I got bigger than he was, I just gloated about it instead of helping him get as big and strong as I was! I also spent more time with my new protege Mike instead of Steve and then our friendship ended in a big shouting match that Christmas." "And how did you regain your friendship with Steve?" JP asked, hoping that he could get an idea on how to repair his relationship with Ryan. But his hopes were dashed when Andrew replied, "I never did repair my friendship with Steve JP or he would be here with us right now. Instead, I've spent the last seven years being his rival on the football field, even though we're on the Offensive Line together!" He noticed the look of defeat in JP's eyes and suddenly thought of something that could cheer him up. "But you have a couple things going for you that I never had JP." "What's that Andrew?" JP asked, a glimmer of hope returning to his eyes. "You and Ryan are brothers," Andrew replied, as JP put the album back in the cabinet drawer and closed it. "And as you said, you last worked out together only three months ago, which means that you continued spending time with Ryan even when he didn't want to." "That's three things Andrew," JP teased him, ushering him out of the back room. As he closed the door, he gave Andrew a cocky smirk and added, "I thought a smart guy like you would know how to count!" "Very funny JP!" Andrew laughed, as he followed his smaller friend across the gym to the bench-press. "The point I'm trying to make is: you didn't give up on your relationship with Ryan like I did with Steve. I know Ryan's away right now on his pre-college road trip, but when he gets back, you should try to fix your relationship with him before it's too late." "It's already too late Andrew!" JP snapped in exasperation. "Ryan ran off on his road trip without saying goodbye to me or our dad! We don't even know if he'll be back for Thanksgiving, which is four and a half months away here in America! He'll probably have forgotten about me by then! And if you haven't fixed your friendship with Steve, what makes you think I can fix my relationship with Ryan?" "It's only been there months since you last spent time together, not seven years like it has been with me and Steve," Andrew reminded him, trying to keep his smaller friend calm. "Also, don't forget that he's your brother JP. Family ties don't usually get broken; they just get frayed. I have confidence in you JP; you're not the quitting type. You know, the next time Ryan is home for a while, perhaps during Christmas Break, I should come down here so that I can see both of you. Maybe if Ryan sees our brotherly relationship, it will inspire him to regain what he's lost by turning away from you." "Or he'll figure that he's been replaced and resent me even more," JP huffed, feeling worse not better. "I guess I'm not the best example on this matter JP; I can't even follow my own advice!" Andrew finally realized. JP nodded in agreement, wondering when his big friend would stop talking about Ryan. "After all, I've never had a brother and I haven't shown any willingness over the past seven years to patch things up with Steve. I just replaced him with my first protege Mike Stevenson: the guy for whom I originally neglected him! I think when I get home this summer, I'll try, somehow, to make up with Steve. After all, we'll only have one last year of high school together and then we may never see each other again! I can only hope that you try to repair your relationship with Ryan when you see him again. I would hate for you to have to live with the regret of a failed relationship for seven years like I've had to do." "Sure Andrew, whatever you say," JP said dismissively, getting really tired of being lectured by his huge friend. "And maybe Hell will freeze over while I wait for Ryan to become my Big Brother again!" "You'll have to make it happen JP; you can't wait for it," Andrew advised him, trying not to get mad at JP's impatience. "Once you're as big as he is, he won't be able to ignore you anymore! He'll have to talk to you then and maybe he'll be proud of you for a change instead of jealous!" "You're right Andrew," JP realized, relieved that his huge muscular friend wasn't mad at him. "I'll try to fix our relationship the next time I see him, if he gives me the chance that is!" "That's all I can ask JP, but remember: you don't have to do all the work," Andrew suddenly realized. "Ryan has to want to be your Big Brother again or you'll never regain your relationship with him. I only hope it doesn't take something happening to one of you for the other to realize just how important you are to each other." Andrew had no idea how prophetic that statement was, but he did realize that he was scaring JP when he saw a glimmer of tears in his eyes. "Sorry for scaring you like that JP; I guess I'm not doing a very good job of cheering you up, am I?" "No you're not Andrew," JP replied: both truthfully and bravely considering how huge and muscular his big friend truly was. Andrew glared at him and JP hastily added, "But I guess you can't be good at everything, can you Big Guy?" Before Andrew could reply, the basement door opened and JP's dad started down the basement steps. "Dinner's ready you two," he said. "Come upstairs and get washed up." As Andrew and JP followed him up the basement steps, he asked, "What were you two talking about down here? It sounded rather heated." "We were talking about Ryan," JP replied through gritted teeth as he clenched his fists in fury. "I can't believe that he didn't even say goodbye to us before he left!" "Neither can your mother and I," Paul agreed. Then he added, "But I guess we shouldn't be surprised; he's barely acknowledged us during the last four years!" "I'm here Mr. Maloney," Andrew said quickly, hoping to head off another rant about Ryan. "I'd be glad to fill the 'big brother' role for JP." "Thank you Andrew," Paul said gratefully. "That's exactly why we're trusting you to take good care of JP during your upcoming Mid-West Recruiting Visits." He noticed JP glaring at him and hastily added, "Not that JP needs to be taken care of; he proved that last night when he took care of that jerk who was bugging Chrissy!" JP grinned proudly and then his father's previous sentence penetrated his consciousness. He turned from the sink, where he was washing his hands, and asked his dad excitedly, "Did you say that Andrew will be taking care of me during the recruiting visits?" His dad nodded with a small grin. "You mean I can go with my new friend Andrew on his road trip?" "Yes JP, but first clean up the water you splashed on the floor in your excitement," Paul ordered him with a chuckle. JP's face turned red with embarrassment as he grinned sheepishly and grabbed some paper towels. Paul turned back to Andrew and said, "I'm placing a lot of trust in you Andrew: to keep JP safe during this road trip. Can you do that for me?" "For us Paul," Maureen corrected him with a frown. "JP's our son, not just yours." "Of course dear," Paul said hastily. "I didn't mean to forget about you: I just misspoke." "Okay Paul," Maureen said. She handed him some plates and added, "You can make it up to me by setting the table." "I'll help him Mom," JP offered, anxious to spend some time with Matt. "Good idea son, that will give me a chance to talk privately with Andrew for a couple of minutes," Maureen decided. Andrew looked surprised, but he stayed quiet while JP and his dad left the kitchen with the plates and cutlery. Then he turned to JP's mom and asked her, "What did you want to talk about Mrs Maloney?" "Call me Maureen Andrew," Mrs Maloney said. Andrew nodded and Mrs Maloney continued by saying, "I just want you to know how much Paul and I appreciate you being there for JP." "Especially since Ryan hasn't been," Andrew interjected. "JP told me all about that downstairs while you guys were cooking dinner." "Yes Andrew, Ryan hasn't been there for his brother like you have, both last night and today. JP told me at lunch all that you talked about last night and how similar you two are, considering all that you've both gone through over the last few years." "Yes I was surprised myself at how similar we are," Andrew agreed. "But I'm glad to help JP get a head start on his college wrestling hopes by taking him with me to Ohio State." "I have complete confidence in your ability to look after JP on these upcoming Unofficial Recruiting Visits of yours," Maureen informed him proudly. "Thank you very much Mrs Maloney," Andrew said gratefully. "I'll make sure to justify your faith in me by keeping JP safe. But from what I saw last night, JP doesn't need protection from anyone!" "Yes, being a District Finalist in wrestling does have its advantages when dealing with college guys on the prowl," Maureen agreed. "Have you ever had to use force to scare people away from Carrie?" "Only the force of my voice," Andrew replied with a smug grin. "One of the advantages of being huge and insanely strong is that anyone who wants to start trouble is scared away with just a look!" "Good for you Andrew; now that you are in the middle of college football recruiting, any fighting you're involved in could derail that entire train ride!" "Thanks for that insight Mrs Maloney," Andrew said, as the oven timer went off. As she took the food out of the oven, he added, "I find it very gratifying to be a big brother for JP, just like I did in previous years for my football proteges, who are now my teammates." "That's good to hear Andrew," Maureen said, setting the food on the large breadboard. "I'm glad you've had a lot of practice being a mentor. Now let's go into the dining room for dinner; everyone's waiting for us." Andrew nodded and helped her bring the food into the dining room. Then they sat down at the table, where everyone else was already seated. They said grace and began eating. "So Andrew, have you and your friends mapped out a travel plan for your NCAA Road Trip?" Mr Maloney asked. "Yes Sir," Andrew replied. "I have the map book in my truck; I can show it to you after supper." "Good idea Andrew, because if you're taking the route I'm thinking of, I have another idea." "I can remember the route Sir," Andrew said. "It will take us to Ohio State, Notre Dame, and Michigan." "That confirms that my idea will work, but I'll tell you what it is after supper when we look at your map book," Mr Maloney decided. Andrew nodded in agreement and Paul added, "So Andrew, do you realize what an amazing coincidence it was that you and JP were in the National Mall at the same time last night?" "Yes Sir I do," Andrew agreed. "But I also realize that this was the only summer I could do it. Last summer I was Basic Reserves Training and next summer I will be preparing for my freshman season of college football. But I must say, when I saw JP on the train, I knew that I recognized him from somewhere. Then once my friends and I got back from our tour of the National Mall, we used his bright blue tank top as a reference point to find our spot on the lawn again. Then I remembered where I had seen him before: on the front page of the sports section of the Washington Post." He noticed JP's friends and family smiling with pride at the memory of the day JP had been interviewed. "I was trying to figure out how to introduce myself to your son when those two big college guys started bugging Chrissy. I was about to intervene to protect her, but JP got there first and helped her out. Then I was able to introduce myself to him, once he noticed me of course." "You're impossible to miss Andrew," Paul said proudly, referencing Andrew's huge muscles. Andrew smiled quietly as Paul added, "JP told me all about how you were ready to help Chrissy before he got there." He thought for a moment and then said, "I might as well tell you my idea now, while you get yourself a second helping." "What do you mean Sir?" Andrew asked innocently, after he swallowed his last mouthful of food. "You cleaned your plate Andrew and so did Mike," Paul replied with a big grin. "Raise your hand if you want seconds." "How about I flex my arm instead," Andrew decided. He flexed his massive arm with a cocky smirk and added, "Both my huge arms need lots of fuel to get even bigger!" Everyone around the table laughed at Andrew's cocky attitude, which reminded them that he was a jock, not just an athlete. "I think your ego is just as big as your arms Andrew," JP teased his huge friend. Andrew grinned at his smaller friend and then realized he'd better get the conversation back on track. "What was your idea Mr Maloney?" he asked, as he got himself a second helping. "Call me Paul Andrew; I told you that when you first got here," Paul said. He waited for Andrew to nod in agreement and then added, "Ann Arbor is a lot closer to Orillia than it is to Washington DC." "Yes it is Paul," Andrew agreed, grinning as he guessed where JP's dad was going with this. "Good, then since we've hosted you tonight, how about you and your family return the favour once your Unofficial Visits are complete?" "Are you serious Dad?" JP shouted in excitement before Andrew could reply. "I get to meet Andrew's family and friends and perhaps see where he has achieved glory on the gridiron?" "If Andrew and his parents agree," Paul reminded him. He looked over at Andrew, who nodded in agreement. "Good, then all we need to do is get your parents on Skype after dinner and ask them." He looked over at Andrew and asked, "Are they home?" "Yes Paul; they're making plans for me to visit some Canadian football schools," Andrew replied. "Good, then it's all settled," Paul decided. "Let's finish our dinner and then we can Skype your parents and see if they're on board with my idea." Everyone nodded in agreement and followed his suggestion. Then, after dinner, Andrew used his laptop to get his dad on Skype so that he could introduce his parents to his new friend JP Maloney and his family. "Hey Dad," Andrew said once Chad's face appeared on the screen. "Hello son," Chad said, grinning at his son. "How is your Washington trip going?" "It's going quite well Dad," Andrew replied. "In fact, I met some new friends and their parents." He took a few minutes to tell his dad about the events of the previous evening and that afternoon. "What do you think Dad?" "I think you've made a great new friend," Chad said with a proud smile on his face. "But you forgot to tell me his name." "I didn't forget, I held back his name deliberately," Andrew informed him with a smug grin. He motioned JP to step into view of the laptop screen and added, "I think you'll recognize him." JP stepped in front of the laptop screen as Andrew stepped back. Chad's smile widened as he said, "You're JP Maloney!" "Yes I am Sir," JP said, surprised that Andrew's dad recognized him. "How did you recognize me?" "I took a business trip down there last week and I noticed your article in the sports section of the Washington Post," Chad replied. "It was the part about you starting a middle school wrestling camp that caught my eye actually." "Why was that Sir?" JP asked, not noticing Andrew stepping into the living room to speak with JP's parents. "Andrew has been a mentor himself: his first mentor was Mike actually," Chad informed him. "Then he mentored Mike's older brother Mark. The next year, he mentored the current Starting Quarterback and Wide Receiver on the OD Varsity Football Team. You stick with Andrew and he'll show you how to be a good mentor for your future protege Nick." "I will Sir," JP promised him. "You don't have to call me Sir, JP," Chad informed him. "Okay Mr Pearson," JP said agreeably. "That will do for now," Chad said. "Now, did Andrew call me on Skype just to introduce you to me or did he have another reason?" "There is another reason, but I should let Andrew tell you what it is, after you meet my parents of course." JP motioned his mom and dad over to Andrew's laptop and they introduced themselves to Andrew's dad and mom. "My parents had an idea Mr Pearson," JP said. "I'll just get Andrew so that he can hear it too." JP went into the living room to get Andrew while Paul and Maureen talked for a bit with Chad. "Your son is a really great young man Chad," Maureen said. "He has really taken JP under his wing in the absence of JP's older brother Ryan." "Yes I know that very well and he has been a great young man for many years," Chad agreed proudly. "Did Andrew tell you how he has mentored a few of his friends over the years and helped them become football players?" "Yes I believe he mentioned that," Paul said. He looked up and noticed Andrew and JP coming back into the den. "Explain your idea to your dad Andrew." "Actually it was your idea Sir," Andrew reminded him with a smug grin. "You're right, it was Andrew," Paul realized. "Okay Mr Pearson, here's my idea: since Andrew's last recruiting visit is near Detroit, he could go right to Orillia from there with JP." "So that we can host you and your family in return for you hosting our son right now," Chad realized. He turned to his wife Susan and asked, "What do you think dear?" "That sounds like a good idea," Susan agreed. "We have lots of room if you count the guest room and the pullout couches." "Good then it's all settled," Paul decided. "We'll keep in touch so that you can let us know when Andrew leaves Ann Arbor. Then my wife and I will start the journey to Orillia, which we will be able to reach in one day from here. Then we can all meet at your house." "That sounds good to me," Chad said. "See you all in a few days. Be sure to call me once you've crossed the border Andrew." "I will Dad," Andrew promised, waving goodbye to Chad. "See you later." "Goodbye son: enjoy your recruiting visits," Chad said. Once the Skype connection had been broken, Paul turned to Andrew and said, "There now, it's all settled Andrew: once you and JP cross the border into Canada, he can call us so that we can start our journey to meet you in Orillia the next day." "Would a text message be more convenient Sir?" Andrew asked. "That way, JP won't get any international calling charges on his phone bill and neither will you." "That's a very good idea Andrew," Paul commended him. "Thank you for suggesting it." He turned to JP and said, "Now how about you and Matt take Andrew and his friends over to the high school so that he can see the football field and the wrestling room." "Good idea Dad," JP agreed. "But how will we get into the wrestling room? I don't have a key." "But Coach Graves does and he'll be expecting you," Paul informed him. "Once you told us about Andrew during lunch, I knew that it would be a good idea to show him where you have achieved glory on the wrestling mat. So I called Coach Graves and told him my idea. Since he had some work to do for August's Wrestling Camp, he said that he would bring it to his office in the high school after supper. I told him you would meet him there at 7:30." "Okay Dad, I'll go get ready now," JP said, heading for the stairs. "Good idea JP," Paul agreed. "Your mom and I will stay down here to entertain your guests." "Thanks Dad, since I can't do that all the time!" JP joked, heading upstairs. "Don't forget your wrestling jacket JP!" Andrew shouted. JP grinned and nodded, pleased that Andrew had thought of everything. As JP turned the corner out of sight, Maureen turned to Andrew and asked, "Why did you tell JP to bring his jacket? It's really hot outside." "It was my idea to help raise his profile for the recruiting visits," Andrew replied. "It makes sense for him to make sure it still fits. He's pretty muscular you know." "That's an understatement Andrew, especially when referring to you," Mrs Anderson said with raised eyebrows. "Thank you Mrs Anderson," Andrew said. "But I think I should get my jacket out of my truck to make sure it fits. I'll be right back." Andrew headed outside to his car and JP's parents took that opportunity to get their digital camera. Once Andrew came back inside with his football jacket on, he found his friends and their parents waiting for him in the living room. "What's going on here?" Andrew asked with a smile. "Just a group shot before you go, now that both you and JP have your jackets on," Paul replied, holding up his digital camera. "You mean all three of us," Andrew said with a cocky grin, as he held up Mike's football jacket. Paul grinned at Andrew's cocky attitude as Mike put on his football jacket. Then Paul set the timer on the camera, placed it on the mantle, and stepped back so that he would be in the picture with everyone else. Everyone grinned as the camera flashed and then stepped up to the mantle to see what the photo looked like on the screen. Once everyone had voiced their approval of the group picture, JP said, "We'd better get going Dad, so Matt and I can show Andrew and his friends the high school wrestling room." "Actually JP, you and Andrew go ahead," Matt said. JP turned to look at him in surprise and Matt added, "I want to stay here with Mike and Carrie." Andrew turned around to see Mike and Carrie nodding in agreement. Mike saw his look of astonishment and said, "Don't look so shocked Andrew: you must realize that the dynamics of this friendship were set last night when you spent half an hour alone with JP." Andrew nodded in sudden understanding and Paul said, "Besides Andrew, while you and JP are talking with Coach Graves, I can show your friends JP's wrestling videos." JP looked suddenly embarrassed, hoping that his dad wouldn't show the footage of the District Final match that JP had lost four months before. Paul noticed his son's sad look and decided to cheer him up. "If you lend me your digital camera son, I can upload the video you took last night of Andrew to YouTube." JP handed over his camera and grinned at the thought of helping raise Andrew's profile for the NCAA. He watched as Andrew slapped Mike on the back and hugged Carrie goodbye. "I'm ready to go now JP," Andrew said as JP opened the front door. "Good, so am I Andrew, so let's go," JP said, heading outside. Andrew waved goodbye to JP's parents and Matt's mom, before following his friend outside to the driveway. "Should we take your car or my truck?" Andrew asked once he reached the driveway where JP was waiting. "We should take your truck Andrew, it looks cooler," JP replied. "Especially when I turn on the under lights," Andrew said with a cocky smirk. "You must be a fan of the Fast and Furious movies," JP realized. "Especially 2Fast 2Furious," Andrew said with a big grin as they got into his truck. "Because it takes place in Miami right?" JP guessed. "Gee, someone's a genius, as far as stating the obvious!" Andrew laughed as they backed out of the driveway. "Shut up man!" JP laughed as they drove down the street. "Just try and make me JP, if you've got the guts that is!" Andrew dared him with a cocky smirk. Andrew and JP continued laughing and joking as they drove to Central High School, enjoying the freedom to act like jocks without worrying what their friends thought. Meanwhile, back at JP's house, Andrew's friends and JP's parents said goodbye to Matt's mom, who was heading home. Matt promised her that he would stop by to say goodbye the next morning, since JP's parents had granted permission for him to stay over. "After all Matt, Andrew only knows the way to this house, not your house," JP's mom reminded him. "That's why your mom brought an overnight bag for you when she came over for dinner." Matt's mom didn't reveal the real reason she was letting Matt stay over at JP's house that night: she needed some space from her son after the bombshell he had dropped on her that morning. Andrew and JP soon reached the high school and parked by the gate in the fence surrounding the football field. The school below in Fairfax County is probably what the author of the JP stories based Central High School on. And of course the team name in the JP Story is the Spartans, not the Wildcats. "Are you ready to go inside Andrew?"JP asked as he got out of the truck. "As soon as I get something," Andrew replied. He got out and opened up his truck's tailgate. Then he reached into his gym bag and pulled out his old Miami Hurricanes football. Then he closed the tailgate. "See JP, just a little accessory to complete my jock image." "You mean your Super Jock image Andrew," JP corrected him with a smug grin. "Your words JP and I agree with them," Andrew said with a big grin. "Let's go into the school and meet your wrestling coach. Then you can show me the wrestling room where you have achieved athletic glory on the wrestling mat." JP grinned back at his huge friend and led the way into the school for the chat with Coach Graves. As Andrew followed him down the hall to the wrestling room, JP smiled to himself as he realized that he would be mentoring a dozen kids there in wrestling in about six weeks time. "What do you think Andrew?" JP asked as they stepped into the wrestling room. "Most impressive JP," Andrew replied, looking around at all the pictures and newspaper articles on the wall. His eyes widened as he realized that most of the pictures and articles were of JP. "Someone's certainly popular in this school," he remarked, making the understatement of the year. "He should be, he's the first District Finalist we've had in over a decade," a deep voice said from behind them. Andrew and JP turned around to see a burly man in his 40s walking towards them. "I'm Coach Graves: the Head Coach of the District Finalist Central High Spartans Varsity Wrestling Team." "Pleased to meet you Coach," Andrew said, holding out his right hand. Coach Graves shook it firmly, only wincing a little bit from the strength of Andrew's iron grip. "I'm Andrew Pearson: Starting Center for the District Champion ODCVI Blues Varsity Football Team." "District Champion sounds a lot more impressive than District Finalist," Coach Graves realized, causing JP to look down at his feet in shame. Graves noticed and quickly apologized to his Star Wrestler. "Sorry about that JP, but it's true. You're good, but obviously not as good as Andrew here." "I'll do better this season Coach," JP promised with a scary look of determination on his face. "This time I won't just win the District Title but I'll be the State Champion as well!" "I'm sure you will JP," Graves agreed, pleased at how determined his Star Wrestler was to succeed. His cell phone suddenly rang from his shirt pocket. "Sorry guys, but I have to take this call: I've been expecting it." He took out his flip phone opened it up, pressed the green phone button to accept the call and listened intently. "Okay, I'll send him right out." He ended the call and turned to Andrew. "There's someone important waiting for you on the 50 yard line of the football field Andrew." "Okay Coach, I'll head out there now and then I'll meet you and JP back in here," Andrew decided. "We'll meet you out there Andrew," Graves said. "JP and I have a few things to work on for the Lincoln Middle School Wrestling Camp in six weeks." Andrew nodded in agreement and waved to JP as he headed out of the wrestling room. As he walked down the hall towards the stairs, he wondered who could be waiting for him in the middle of the football field: which he could see from the second floor window. Once Andrew exited the building and skirted the stands, he saw a big man in his 40s standing in the middle of the field. As he got closer, he noticed that the big guy was wearing a Central High Spartans Football t-shirt. "Hello Andrew, I'm Coach Palmer: the Head Coach of the Central High Spartans Varsity Football Team." "Pleased to meet you Coach," Andrew said excitedly, shaking his hand firmly. He noticed Coach Palmer massaging his sore hand and smirked as he added, "As you already know, I'm Andrew Pearson: Starting Center for the Orillia District Varsity Football Team." "I'm very pleased to meet you Andrew and there's someone else who would like to meet you: over the phone anyway." He picked up his cell phone and sent a quick text message that consisted of only two words: 'He's here.' "Who did you just send that text message to Coach?" Andrew asked curiously. "You'll find out in about 30 seconds Andrew," Coach Palmer promised him. Sure enough, within 30 seconds, his cell phone rang. "Hello, is that you?" he asked. He listened closely to the answer and nodded his head in satisfaction. "Good, thanks for calling back so quickly." He listened a bit more and added, "Sure I'll let you speak to him, since that is the reason I wanted you to call me in the first place. Just a second." He handed his cell phone to Andrew and said, "It's for you." "Thanks Coach," Andrew said, taking the cell phone and holding it up to his ear. "Hello?" "Are you Andrew Pearson?" a deep and confident voice asked from the other end of the line. "Yes I am," Andrew replied, feeling a little uneasy that the mystery caller knew his name. "Who is this?" "This is Ryan Maloney," the caller replied. ********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************* And that, after two months, is the end of Andrew's Recruiting Summer Chapter 4. Please let me know what you thought of my first attempt at a cliffhanger ending. ********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************* Coming soon: - Andrew finds out why JP's older brother called him - Andrew takes JP and Matt on his Ohio State Recruiting Visit.

Comments on characters, plot, and style are greatly appreciated. Please advise on muscle and sex descriptions --do they work or not? Hope you enjoy. The Call - Part I The Call -Part II The Call –Part III Sun streamed into the clubhouse’s committee room. A glass wall created a visible meeting space, even in closed sessions. Frank sat at the room’s roundtable, his back to the glass. On Frank’s immediate left sat Jerry, and Dwayne on his right. Their one hundred percent American Corvette muscle framed Frank. Next to Jerry sat Lucy, a bubbly woman with curves that warranted slow-down signs, not that she did. Filling the circle was Roz, the committee chairperson. Roz’s preferred expanding grey cells over contracting muscle fiber; The Doc’s formula restored her brain acumen, and Roz never complained about her youthful good looks, restored vigor; and she had never refused a big man. Lenny’s fate at More to Life Living Facility depended on these five people deciding he had met the entrance criteria. The “senior” criterion seemed easy for Lenny to pass, but age didn’t make a senior. Degree of infirmity, amount of aging, and psychological outlook were factors. The average recruited “senior” was sixty-three for men and sixty-seven for women. A vital seventy-two-year-old man had been rejected as not a senior. Another criterion rated Lenny’s adaptability: could he accept the More to Life philosophy? How would Lenny react to a second youth and a body better than in his actual youth? Would he become an egotistical SOB? Or would he embrace a second chance to explore life’s pleasures for himself and others? The committee considered Frank’s commitment to apply his accumulated wisdom to help others, both at More to Life and outside. Altruism as a criterion always caused debate: sainthood wasn’t for everyone and difficult to measure: What constituted help and how often? In the early years, committees had struggled with this criterion until a pattern emerged. Even with super fit bodies and restored good looks, people retained their inherent personality, with exceptions. A jerk early in life remained a jerk. But dramatic events could change an asshole into a nice person and vice-versa. To determine the last criterion, Lenny’s nomination came via Frank –a portrait of Lenny’s inherent personality in high school. Dwayne, the independent investigator, uncovered Lenny’s latter life development with thorough background checks. This meeting reviewed Lenny’s adaptability, data obtained by the ostensibly friendly chitchats, inexplicable plowing of muscle into his face, and a gym power tour. This elaborate staging provided a sense of Lenny’s reactions to morphed bodies with wrinkle-free faces. **** Frank sat upright, fingering Lenny’s dossier folder. Without glancing at his notes, he said: “I know he’s a little odd, but Lenny was a good guy, is a good guy.” Frank looked to Roz. “He’s very smart… and he always helped others, and never hurt anyone. Frank played no role in hazing freshman, a tradition in our fucked-up high school.” Jerry interrupted Frank, turning in his chair like a bull with a hard-on for a matador, the feeling Frank had when Jerry’s hard cock had poked into him during their private meeting the previous Friday to explore Lenny’s personality. Jerry’s aggressive tone startled Frank. “I’m not sure what to make of the fact that Lenny never married. He says he straight, but is he ashamed of being gay? We don’t discriminate. Is Lenny an intolerant gay man? It happens, you know. For his generation –yours-- gays could act like straights.” Before answering, Frank sat back, Jerry’s barrel chest sucked oxygen, they way he had sucked Frank’s penis a few days before. “Well Jerry, he didn’t marry because Lenny was wedded to his job. And you may not have the imagination to understand that working on spacecraft, sending men and women to the moon, is a thrill. Maybe Lenny chose work over a woman. In high school, he studied more than mingled. But everyone liked him. Lenny would do anything for anyone. He confused the bullies because he never complained at their teasing, gave them his lunch money with a smile saying they probably need it more than him. Lenny was never prejudiced against any group. Maybe he’s a hermaphrodite –you’d find a way to enjoy that, wouldn’t you Jerry?” Roz tapped her fingers on the table, mumbling about Frank’s discourteous response. Frank scowled an apology. Roz waited for Frank’s breathing to settle before pointing to Dwayne for a comment. Dwayne, a six-three former detective, and Lenny’s official investigator, said with his deep-water cavern voice, “His former NASA colleagues confirm what Frank said.” Dwayne rested his chin on his fist, his forearm the size of a Roman plinth, his massive head motionless as his lips grappled with his tongue. Dwayne retained his New Jersey detective skills, and used former connections for favors rather than More to Life hackers accessing government computers; he preferred the old-fashion inside approach to illegally acquire private data. Uncovering latent homophobia was Dwayne’s trademark; he’d have known if Lenny hated gays. Dwayne had a particular disdain for closet gays because it reminded him of himself. He had grown up in the eighties, an unkind era, but worse for him as a gay African-American police officer. He still berated himself for being a coward, keeping his homosexuality a secret. Frank’s eyes focused on Dwayne’s twitching pecs poking through his fishnet shirt, the same one he had worn during their Saturday review of Lenny. Frank’s ass had saddled Dwayne’s balcony chest, his legs had dangled behind Dwayne’s ridged deltoids. Frank had commandeered Dwayne’s 747-size latissimi dorsi into an intense horizontal landing. They made notes between ejaculations. Lucy’s two cents came with her hand adjusting her breasts: “He’s cute too, and he’ll be even better once he’s in shape and loses the wrinkles.” Lucy liked gorgeous buff men, not bulkheads that suffocated her. She only required her men be hard in one place; her exact words while rating Frank’s cock for tensile hardness during their Sunday review of Lenny. Dwayne raised his hand like a traffic cop to Lucy. With a scowl, Lucy reacted: “He’s not yours yet, so pack those oversized muscles in a suitcase as you leave, Dwayne.” Dwayne stuck out his tongue, Lucy gave him the finger, and Roz groaned, a sound familiar to Frank. During their Monday discussion about committee procedures, Frank had taken the opportunity to review Lenny’s intelligence as a rocket scientist. Frank had launched past Roz’s clitoris, hearing her familiar moan with each full-blast thrust. The Saturday to Monday private encounters had given Frank confidence in a favorable decision. He had promised all three follow-up private sessions, should the committee give preliminary approval to Lenny. **** Frank cleared the table dishes, Lenny’s half-eaten meal evidence of his old man appetite. “Like it?” Frank held Lenny’s empty frappe glass. Frank spread a photo album on the table. The early pictures were of them in high school. Their youth made them laugh, although Frank didn’t look that much older. Viewing their toothpick legs in gym shorts nearly knocked them to the floor. A few pages later were wedding photos of Frank and Helen. She was beautiful, her wedding dress elegant. Frank asked Lenny why he missed the wedding. Lenny taped the date scrawled under the photo. “It was my first launch. I was so excited, and I’m sorry I never met Helen. What was she like?” Using the back of his hand, Frank rubbed his nose. Lenny apologized for asking. “No, that’s okay. Its just that I didn’t treat her well.” Frank revealed he’d neglected Helen, but had never cheated. “I was worse, I’d become indifferent.” There was no doubt after years Frank was more interested in the bottle than Helen. “I realized what I had lost when she died, and that I’d become an asshole.” The next photo showed him and Helen at the Grand Canyon. Frank looked like a cheese wheel, the top of his shorts hidden by a layered stomach overflowing like melted cheddar. Helen remained gorgeous, but her eyes had become sad. “I’m so sorry, Frank.” “Yeah, me too. It was a trip to celebrate our fifteenth anniversary. Helen died later that year of an embolism.” With Helen gone, Frank had become morose, leading to job loss, and depression. In four years, he had squandered Helen’s insurance policy, and he had stuffed two hundred ninety pounds on his five foot nine inch frame. Lenny thought Frank’s description disingenuous until he saw the next photo. A mummified face stared out topping an atmospheric balloon like those Lenny had sent up at NASA to gather meteorological data. He read the words scrawled under the photo: Mancuso Blimp. “That was taken the day I entered More to Life. Every new member has their photo taken the day they arrive. My doctor had given me a year to live, two max.” Fat Frank seemed to ooze onto the paper, a grease stain showing around the edges of the picture. “Keep this picture in front of you. I want to show you something, and…uh, this may seem …uh, maybe kinky, but believe me it is not, trust me.” The lines creased on Lenny’s forehead as Frank stood to unbutton his shirt. “Stay with me, Lenny. Its fine.” Lenny’s eyebrows reached his hairline watching Frank’s pectorals billow into the room, his areolae giant graffiti. His oversized chest pushed down his nipples so they pointed to his feet. “Jesus, I had no idea. I mean your arms are big but those are… incredible,” said Lenny who inhaled his words “Thanks.” Frank placed his shirt over the chair and turned around. Lenny imagined a V-shaped Yield Sign, Frank bent, his spine ridges visible. His pants flung upward. Lenny gripped the chair’s side arms. “Ready?” Frank walked to the room’s center, rolling on log legs. He wore a tiny bodybuilder’s posing suit. Lenny choked, and reached for his water. “Take it easy, Lenny. Its just a show.” “Frank, what have you done to yourself? Look at those legs…and…. Lenny nodded to Frank’s crotch. “I’m sorry, but that bulge...” Frank shook his right leg, the muscle flopped like a dishrag. As he tensed his leg, dewdrops formed, veins crisscrossed rice paper skin. Frank relaxed his thigh, to lift his left calf that evolved into a small surfboard. Lenny held the water to his lips, taking small sips between intakes of air. With a swift turn, Frank’s back flared. He pulled up the sides of his bikini poser, sinking it into his ass crack. Lenny choked, and Frank turned. Lenny waived okay. Tightening his glutes, vertical striations draped Frank’s ass. Lenny blurted out, “What the hell, that can’t be real?” Laughing as he turned to face Lenny, Frank adjusted his front pouch. “This too is real, but like I said, nothing kinky, so don’t worry I won’t be taking it out…not tonight.” Before Lenny could respond, Frank did a double bicep pose, and knelt in front of Lenny. “Feel them. Go ahead, crush them.” Lenny’s hands rested on each mound, then moved to Frank’s pectorals. Frank pointed to his Mancuso blimp picture. “Lenny, let’s take one of you. The committee has agreed to grant you a trial residency, and I’m sure you’ll be accepted. I meeting with everyone in the next few days.” “So, I was voted in this afternoon?” “Moe a consensus.” Frank’s eyes drifted to the ceiling. “So one meeting and the committee knew enough.” “No. I had separate meetings first to allay individual concerns.” Frank chuckled. “I can be persuasive.” Frank suggested they work on Lenny’s interview, but Lenny thought it a waste of time. There had to be others more deserving then him, and he wasn’t even sure he wanted to join. The top of Frank’s lips rose. “I told the committee you always put others before yourself, and you still do.” The subject changed to Lenny’s health, which Lenny waved off. He lowered his head, and he saw Frank’s posers silhouetted with a mushroom headed rocket. Lenny gasped “Sorry, sometimes flexing makes me hard. And, it is bigger and harder than ever.” With flushed cheeks, Lenny circled his water glass on the table. “Don’t be embarrassed. More to Life means restored youth and strength, and more chance to live a complete life. To find new pleasures from a better body.” Frank paused. Lenny’s eyelids had closed. “You know, I had limited sexual experience before I married and after thirty-five sex ended for me. I’m not gay but—Frank’s hand swung around his upper torso— this has made me experiment. I want men to explore me… and women. I am constantly amazed at what I can do with such strength.” Frank’s face split by a wide grin. “You can’t imagine what it feels like to have the strength, the stamina, and the physique of Hercules. You’ll see.” From his vantage, all Lenny saw was Frank’s massive hard on. “I feel myself up. Do you know I masturbate twice a day, three if there’s time?” Frank’s pouch had lowered. Lenny blinked rapidly several times. “Sorry, too much, right?” Lenny nodded. “Why not explore alternative pleasures? Don’t rule it out.” A big, full-on tooth grin seeped across Franks’ face. With a short pause, Lenny wanted to known if there was anything besides sex and flexing muscles at More to Life. The response was ambiguous: plenty of intellectual activity but enough sinew to feed a pride of lions. “How can you really ignore this?” Frank’s bicep rocketed upward. Lenny’s glass stopped moving. He reached for Frank’s arm and said, “I don’t know what’s come over me. All day I’ve felt an increasing urge to massage your muscles. I’ve never felt like this and I haven’t even had the special meds.” Frank’s eye movement was nearly imperceptible. “What? You didn’t? Medication can’t act that fast.” “It doesn’t, not normally. Maybe because you had a double dose.” “What?” “A mistake. I gave you a pill in the morning. Todd phoned to say he fortified you too, not knowing about me. The frappe’s are enhancers, but pills are full doses—remember Todd and the Kidd? Todd and I worried about your quadruple bypass and —“ “Wait. How do you know about my bypass? What’s going on, Frank?” With the heel of his hand, Frank banged his forehead and groaned, Frank’s head rested on the table. “I’ve screwed this up. You were my first choice, too. Shit, I am so stupid.” Lenny stood to massage Frank’s shoulders, and felt he was kneading golf balls. “Don’t worry, please. You did what you thought right. And you’ve honored me with the invitation.” Hearing a grunt, Frank raised his head to see Lenny flexing. “I haven’t felt like this in years. Feel this.” Lenny moved his arm to Frank. Although he strained, there was no bulge in Lenny’s arm, just his same old loose-change bicep. “Oh, Lenny, you’re such a muscle hunk,” said Frank with a whispering laugh. The two men were still laughing as Frank’s poser stretched, his penis outline again visible. Lenny moved back and stopped laughing. “Frank stood and hugged Lenny. “Hey, this happens.” Wiping his lips, Lenny explained his last sex with a woman had been in his thirties, after that he had remained faithful to himself. Frank grinned like he’d eaten cheesecake, and Lenny remembered Frank did it three times daily. “Frank, its different for me. I have no desire for sex. I don’t need it, so I doubt I’d be of interest to anyone here.” Tapping Lenny’s head with his two fingers, then he pulled Lenny’s hand to his bulging posing suit. “Don’t be so sure, Lenny, we still have tomorrow.” **** The Call -Part I

* Now Complete * This chapter will start with a brief excerpt from JP EPISODE 21: THE SMILE: the last part of that chapter that takes place in July 2005. Then I will extrapolate events from there for this chapter. As always, any parts of the JP story are reproduced with permission from the author, as I mentioned in Chapters 1 and 2. Also, as always: the illustrated version of the Chapter can be found here: http://seanspictures.webs.com/andrewmeetsjppart3.htm It took the rest of the morning, but JP and I soon returned to our normal routine. I went over to his house for our daily workout and then we went running in a nearby park. The whole world felt different now that I had come out to my mom. She may only have been one person, but somehow, the weight on my shoulders was far easier to carry. Not only that, but it gave me another person to talk to. Although it would be awkward at first, eventually I knew that she would always be there for me. ================================================================================ Once Matt and JP arrived at Burke Lake Park near JP's house, they found their new friends Andrew, Mike and Carrie waiting for them in the parking lot. "Nice truck Andrew," JP said, admiring the sleek lines of Andrew's blue Dodge Ram Quad Cab. "Where did you get it?" he asked, as he stepped forward to shake Andrew's hand. "Thanks man," Andrew said, shaking his hand. "My dad bought it for me on my 17th birthday almost a year ago. That was right around the time he got promoted to Executive Vice-President, or Chief Operating Officer, of Harrington's Sports Suppliers." "Wow Andrew, your dad is the second-in-command of a big sports company?" JP asked in astonishment. "Yeah man, he's rich," Andrew bragged, revealing a slight hint of snobbishness that his friends had never seen before. "But then, after looking at the Fairfax County website, I realized that being rich is normal around here." "Yeah, but did you see the car I drove here?" JP asked his big friend, pointing to the green GTO behind him. He narrowed his eyes at Andrew: disapproving of his snobby attitude and added, "I was given my brother's old car as a hand-me-down! My parents didn't buy a brand new truck for me like your dad did for you!" "Actually, my truck is four years old; my dad bought it used, and I pay him monthly for it," Andrew corrected him with a smug grin. When he saw JP's look of disapproval fade into an approving grin, he laughed and added, "Did you really think I was that snobby and elitist JP? I guess I fooled you after all, didn't I?" "Yeah you did man," JP admitted with a sheepish grin. "See, you're not the only genius around here," Andrew reminded him, crossing his huge muscular arms over his massive chest. "My parents raised me to work for everything I have, including this impressive body of mine." He noticed JP smirking and added, "Now, we came here to work out our bodies, not just our minds JP. Are you ready?" "Yeah Andrew; how good are you at running laps?" "I do alright," Andrew replied modestly, realizing that JP hadn't seen much of his running since he usually played Centre. "Why do you ask? I thought we came here to throw my football around." "We'll do that later, and we'll also throw around my Navy Frisbee after we go swimming in the lake," JP promised him. "But first, there are a few miles of trails that go around the lake and through the woods. Matt and I tried them a week ago and we got quite a good aerobic workout that day." "You got more than I did JP, since you kept running for two more hours after I ran out of breath," Matt reminded him with an irritated look. "Yeah, but now I've found someone who can keep up with me," JP said with a smirk, revealing a hint of his old cocky attitude. "Yeah, I should be able to keep up with you, thanks these long massive legs of mine," Andrew predicted with a cocky smirk. He turned around and asked, "Are you coming with us Mike and Carrie?" Carrie was about to answer, but her jaw dropped in astonishment as Andrew peeled off his tight t-shirt. JP and Matt stared at Andrew's massively muscled torso in awe and more than a little fear. Mike, on the other hand, being just as big and muscular as Andrew, merely grinned with pride at the awesome build his mentor possessed. "Yes, we're coming with you Andrew," Mike replied. He began to peel off his skintight t-shirt and added, "I think I'll follow your lead and take off my t-shirt as well." It took a lot of effort and care for Mike to peel off his t-shirt without ripping it, but he disguised the difficulty of the task by plastering a cocky smirk on his face. This was designed to make his friends think that he was taking his t-shirt off really slowly in order to show off his massive muscles. Once Mike got his t-shirt off, he said, "There, that feels better; I was getting too hot." He grinned at the double meaning in his words, as he noticed Carrie staring at him with lust in her eyes and closed his eyes in pleasure as a cool breeze blew against his skin. "Oh yeah, that feels so good," he moaned, rubbing his massive pecs and eight-pack abs. "Stop showing off Mike!" Andrew laughed, though he was disguising his disapproval of his best friend's cockiness. "You're not the only muscle god around here you know!" Mike opened his eyes, but the first thing he saw was Matt and JP staring at him with their mouths open. "What's the matter guys: scared of my guns?" he asked, with a cocky smirk. He flexed his massive 24 inch biceps and added, "You'd better be, because they certainly don't fire blanks!" Andrew laughed at his protege's silly joke, while JP and Matt's looks of fear turned slowly into small grins. "Don't be scared guys, even though this is the first time you've seen our massive muscles in full daylight," Andrew advised them. He stepped forward to lay a massive hand on JP's shoulder, who only kept himself from recoiling in fear to look brave for Matt's sake. He couldn't keep his eyes from widening at the cords of muscle and the massive pulsing veins in Andrew's huge forearm. "We're all friends here," Andrew assured him, seeing the fear in his new friend's eyes. "You have nothing to worry about JP." "I'm not worried Andrew," JP bluffed, though he knew that Andrew could see the fear in his eyes. Andrew nodded knowingly: realizing that JP needed to keep up a brave and fearless image for the benefit of his boyfriend Matt. "I'm actually glad that you're a lot bigger than me or even my brother Ryan. If he was here and saw how big you are, he'd never make a dumb comment to me again!" "Don't tell him you're friends with me JP; I want to surprise him with that fact when I go on a recruiting visit to Virginia Tech this fall," Andrew ordered him. "What makes you think you'll see my brother Ryan on your recruiting visit?" JP asked, as he took off his t-shirt. He grinned smugly at Matt's look of lust and Carrie's look of astonishment. "Take off your t-shirt Matt; show off the body that Chrissy thought was so hot yesterday." Matt complied with JP's order and was pleased when his boyfriend gave him a wink of approval. Mike stepped up to him and said, "You're pretty ripped man, even though you're only half my size. I bet you could have taken that arrogant jerk who was bugging Chrissy if JP hadn't been there." Matt grinned at Mike's attempt to cheer him up, knowing that he wasn't even in his boyfriend's league as far as size and strength. While Matt and Mike were chatting, Andrew was informing JP that his recruiting visits that summer would be hosted by Red-Shirt Freshman. "I'm sure Ryan will fill the same role this fall, which should give me the chance to let him know that I'm good friends with you," Andrew informed him. He let a smug grin appear on his face as he rubbed his massive bicep and added, "He won't be so eager to cause you any more trouble once he realizes that you have such a huge muscular friend." "I hope you're right Andrew," JP said, secretly worried that seeing how big and strong Andrew was would motivate Ryan to become bigger and stronger himself. "It would be great if you could be the catalyst to repair my relationship with my big brother." "He's not your big brother; I am JP," Andrew teased him with a big grin. "He's just your older brother, which gives you the youth advantage." JP grinned back at Andrew, grateful as always that his huge muscular friend always knew how to cheer him up. "I don't mean to interrupt your bromance Andrew," Carrie teased him. Andrew glared at her with a twinkle in his eye and Carrie smirked back at him. "But I think that unlike you guys, I'll leave my t-shirt on. I'll certainly enjoy the view of your muscular bodies though," she added, sneaking a lustful look at JP. "The only muscles you get to enjoy seeing are mine Carrie," Andrew warned her with an angry glare. He reached out with one massive hand and gently, but firmly, turned her head back towards him. "I hate repeating myself, but in case no one got the message last night: you're my girlfriend and no one else's! Have you got that Carrie?" He loosened his grip on her chin just enough for her to give him a frightened nod. Andrew released his grip on her and turned to glare at the other three guys. "Has everyone got that message now?" he growled with clenched fists. "Yes we have Andrew," Mike replied, once he realized that Matt and JP were to scared to speak. He only felt a little nervous around Andrew's fierce temper, since he knew that Andrew had never hurt him in anger. He had an idea to ease the sudden tension and asked, "Hey Andrew, what do you call chest muscles on a rough ocean?" "I'm not going to guess Mike, just tell us," Andrew sighed with a small grin, recognizing Mike's tactic that always soothed his bad temper. "Bouncing pecs," Mike replied with a big grin, as he bounced his own pecs to demonstrate. Everyone laughed and the last traces of anger faded from Andrew's face. "Good one Mike; my turn." Mike nodded at Andrew to go ahead as JP led the group to the start of the trail around the lake. "What do you call arms that are lethal weapons?" "I have no idea Andrew; why don't you tell us?" Mike goaded him. "Loaded guns," Andrew replied with a cocky smirk, flexing his massive biceps. Everyone laughed as JP led them in a brisk jog down the first leg of the trail. "Okay one more," Mike promised them. "What do you use to wash your clothes when there's no washing machine handy?" "The lake?" JP guessed, pointing to their left where they could see Burke Lake through the breaks in the trees. "Nope, you use washboard abs," Mike replied, massaging his ripped eight-pack. Everyone laughed once again, shaking their heads at the silly, but cocky, puns of Mike and Andrew. For their part, Andrew and Mike were glad that their jokes had put everyone at ease, especially since they had seen Andrew's bad temper up close a few minutes ago. Andrew and Mike let JP and Matt lead the way down the trail, while Carrie followed behind them. As they ran, Andrew tried to think of a way he could let JP and Matt know that he knew their secret. He realized that only Mike could keep up with him, but then he also realized that Mike and Matt had spent a lot of time together with Carrie the night before. So Andrew just had to come up with an excuse to get JP alone, and Matt's earlier comment about being left alone while JP ran for two more hours popped up in his head. So, once Matt gets tired, then Mike and Carrie will wait with him back near the cars for JP and myself, Andrew realized. Then I can see just how far JP can run, since he won't be holding himself back to keep Matt from feeling bad. "So, will we take the trail all the way around the lake JP?" Andrew asked. "If you can keep up with me Andrew," JP teased him. "I wouldn't worry about Andrew keeping up with you, but we won't be able to JP," Matt reminded him. "Well, I'm not slowing down for you Matt; I have to keep in shape for wrestling next year," JP reminded him with a frown. "If Matt and Carrie get tired, I'll go back with them to the main part of the park," Mike offered, not letting on that he, like Andrew, would be able to keep up with JP with no trouble. "Thanks man, I'd appreciate that," Andrew said gratefully, pleased that he would soon be able to speak to JP alone. "You keep them company like last night and if any jerks try to start anything with Carrie, all you'll have to do is stand up to scare them away." Mike grinned at that idea and Andrew added, "I'm trusting you to keep an eye on Carrie when I'm not around Mike, as long as you don't try anything with her!" "Don't worry Andrew, I have enough internal discipline to comply with your orders to leave her alone in a social sense," Mike assured his big friend. A scary look of anger appeared on his face as he added, "But if anyone tries anything with her, we'll see how they like some external discipline thanks to my huge muscles!" Hopefully they won't like it like Matt would, JP thought suddenly with a smirk on his face. As he jogged effortlessly through the woods with Andrew and Mike beside him, he thought about how lucky he was to be spending this summer with his friends. Too bad Ryan couldn't be here, he thought to himself with a pang of regret. But perhaps Andrew's idea about revealing his friendship with me if he sees Ryan this fall will help me get back my relationship with my true big brother. "Hey JP, who is that Nick guy you were talking about just before we met last night?" Andrew asked him suddenly. "He's Chrissy's brother; you know: the girl you were about to save from those college jerks until I stepped in," JP replied. "I don't know if I thanked you for that yet." "Yeah you did JP, right after you asked me if I wanted a piece of you," Andrew reminded him with a steely glare. "That wasn't very polite of you, considering I was ready to defend Chrissy from those two jerks before you got there." "Sorry about that Andrew; I guess my mind was just clouded by rage," JP apologized. "Yeah, deflected rage at your brother," Andrew snapped, still mad at JP's rudeness when they'd first met. "If you ever feel you want to take me on, I'm right here!" "No thanks Andrew; at least not for real," JP assured him. "Your neck's so thick I don't think I could get my arm around it! And even if I could, it looks so hard and muscular I'd have no luck trying to choke you out!" "Keep that in mind Big Guy, just in case you think you're all that and then some," Andrew reminded him with a cocky smirk. "Shut up Andrew!"" JP laughed, throwing a punch at his big friend. Andrew still had his face turned towards him and JP's fist accidentally made contact with Andrew's jaw with a loud smack. "OWWW!" JP yelled, shaking out his sore hand. "I think I hurt myself!" "I didn't feel a thing," Andrew bragged. "Was that your best shot?" he asked, as they stopped at one of the path junctions. "No man," JP replied, massaging his sore hand. "But this is!" He suddenly lunged at Andrew, trying to pull his head down to get him in a choke hold. It seemed to be working at first, but then Andrew grabbed JP by the legs and hoisted him over his shoulders, breaking JP's grip on his neck in the process. Then Andrew grinned and extended his arms, holding JP up above his head with no effort. "Hold on tight JP; up and down you go!" Andrew laughed, as he began effortlessly shoulder-pressing JP. "Let me know when you've had enough!" After a couple of minutes, JP said, "Okay, that's enough Andrew. Put me down please." "Sure man, since you asked me nicely," Andrew said agreeably. He let JP down to his shoulders and then lowered him gently down to the ground. "There you go Big Guy: I put you down. Are you happy now?" "Yeah I am Andrew; thanks," JP said gratefully, feeling embarrassed that Andrew had so thoroughly dominated him. "Hey JP, how much can you bench?" Andrew asked him. "350," JP immediately replied, though it didn't seem as impressive as it had earlier in the week. "Good, then you should be able to bench-press me," Andrew realized. "I only weigh 305 so it should be easy for you." JP chuckled at Andrew's nonchalant way of saying that he 'only' weighed 305 pounds. "How do you do that Andrew?" JP asked in wonder. "Do what JP?" Andrew asked, as they jogged down a side path to look for a patch of grass to perform the human bench-press. "How do you make me feel better with just a few words?" JP asked him seriously. "Ryan would have tossed me to the ground and then kicked me in the gut for good measure if he had me above his shoulders!" "I've had lots of practice JP, mentoring little guys like you," Andrew replied, missing JP's look of anger at being called little. "As for your brother, are you sure he'd fight dirty like that?" "You don't know him like I do Andrew; in fact, you've never even met him!" JP snapped. "So believe me when I tell you: if I ever get him in a chokehold, I won't let up until I choke him out!" "I believe you JP," Andrew said seriously, as they entered a small grassy clearing in the woods. As their friends followed them onto the grass, Andrew added, "Get the digital camera ready Mike: I think we're about to witness history!" "Are you sure about this Andrew; won't you find it embarrassing being bench-pressed by someone who you outweigh by over 100 pounds of solid muscle?" JP asked him seriously. "I'm trying to make you feel better by showing you how strong you really are, and how you have nothing to fear from me," Andrew assured him. He motioned JP to lie down and added, "As you don't tag me in the balls by accident, everything will be fine." Carrie burst out laughing and Andrew shot a quick glare at her to keep her quiet, so that JP wouldn't figure out that they knew about him and Matt. JP lay down on the grass and extended his arms. Andrew carefully positioned himself lengthwise so JP's hands were on his chest and thighs. "Okay JP: let's go," Andrew said. "How many do you think you can do?" "I'll go for five reps," JP replied, slowly lowering Andrew down to his chest. He raised his arms with some effort, slowly lifting Andrew up until his arms locked at full extension. "So far so good Andrew: let's go for two!" JP yelled in excitement. He bench-pressed Andrew four more times before he had to signal Andrew to stand up. "Whew! That was a great chest workout Andrew!" JP panted, accepting Andrew's outstretched hand which pulled him to his feet effortlessly. "I knew you could do it JP," Andrew congratulated him, slapping him gently on the shoulder. "Good job Big Guy." "Thanks Andrew," JP said, smiling gratefully up at his mentor. "Can we start running again?" "After you shoulder-press me JP, just to be sure that you can handle a big guy like me," Andrew replied. "You do know how to pick someone up in a Fireman's Carry, don't you?" "Yeah, my dad taught me," JP replied, screwing up his face in determination. He was nervous about shoulder-pressing over 300 pounds, but then he remembered that he had just bench-pressed that same amount: five times! And I have my whole body to help me this time, so it should be easy! he suddenly realized. "Bring it on Andrew: I'm ready!" "That's it Big Guy," Andrew said, stepping closer and bending down so that JP could grab his legs and free arm. "Let's see what you've got! Go for ten reps!" JP grabbed Andrew around the legs and slowly straightened up, getting Andrew squarely across his shoulders. Then he adjusted his grip and began shoulder-pressing Andrew up and down. He grinned as he performed the first five reps easily, noticing Mike and Matt taking his picture. The next five reps were more difficult, but JP just gritted his teeth in determination and forced himself through them. Then he carefully let Andrew back down to the ground again; panting and massaging his sore chest and shoulders. "Great job JP," Andrew congratulated him, shaking his hand instead of slapping his sore shoulders. "I knew you could do it!" JP grinned as he tried to catch his breath. Andrew motioned the others back to the trail and stepped closer to JP until he was looming over him. He bent down so that only JP could hear him and whispered, "Now you know that you can take on Ryan with no problem, so don't worry about him anymore JP." "Thanks Andrew, I owe you Big Guy," JP said gratefully, now that he had his breath back. As they jogged back onto the path, he added, "You're a really great mentor." "I've had lots of practice JP and I'd be glad to pass on some tips so that you'll be ready to mentor Nick in about six weeks," Andrew offered. "That would be great Andrew, because Nick won't be the only wrestling hopeful I'll be mentoring at wrestling camp next month," JP said gratefully. "Well, I do know how to mentor two guys at once: I did it with my teammates Ralph and Connor two years ago," Andrew said modestly. He smiled as he remembered developing his two proteges into star football players by Grade 11. "Since they will be the starting quarterback and wide receiver respectively this season, it seems I did alright training them for high school football. We won the District Championship last season and this season we're going to win the Provincial Title!" "Wow Andrew, that's really impressive," JP congratulated his huge friend. "What about Mike here? Did you train him as well?" "Yeah man," Andrew replied with a smug grin. "Tell him how small you were when I first started training you almost seven years ago Mike." "5 foot even and 80 pounds," Mike replied sheepishly, feeling embarrassed that he had ever been that small. "You were about the same size as Nick is now," JP realized, glad that Chrissy had told him her brother's stats. "And look at you now: 305 pounds of solid muscle!" "And I stand 6 foot 6, so I loom over you just like Andrew does," Mike chuckled. He lifted JP up by his waist, even as they were still jogging down the path. "I'm the big man in this group, and don't you forget it!" JP's eyes narrowed in anger and he was about to punch Mike in the face when Andrew said, "Put him down Mike; I let him shoulder-press me to make him feel better and you're ruining it by lifting him up like a rag doll!" Mike stopped jogging, set JP down and went to ruffle his hair, but JP knocked his arm away swiftly. "Don't you even think of trying to touch me without my permission man, or I'll rip your arm off!" he growled in fury. "Whoa JP, calm down!" Andrew urged him, clamping a massive hand on JP's sore shoulder to hold him back as he lunged at Mike. JP winced and Andrew switched his iron grip to his arm instead. "Sorry about that man, but don't start anything with Mike: he's just as strong as I am and he could wipe the floor with you!" JP glared at Andrew over his shoulder, realizing that all of Andrew's efforts to make him feel better had just been ruined. "I think it's time our two group separated now," Matt suddenly suggested. "Why don't I take Carrie and Mike back to the cars while you and JP run some more until he calms down Andrew." "Good idea Matt; see you soon I hope," Andrew said, smiling at him. Matt grinned back and led Mike and Carrie back down the trail, but not before Mike gave JP one last smirk over his shoulder. Andrew frowned and shook his head until Mike's smirk vanished and then turned around to see JP glaring at him with clenched fists. "Go ahead JP, punch me in the face again," Andrew sighed. "I deserve it for being too late to stop Mike from lifting you up." JP hesitated suddenly; no longer wanting to punch Andrew now that he had his permission and slightly afraid of making his huge friend angry. "No it's okay Andrew," JP assured him, letting out a huge sigh and un-clenching his fists. "It's kind of my fault too, not just Mike's. To me, he was acting just like Ryan and I projected my anger at Ryan onto him." "Yeah you did JP and it would not have been amusing if you had tried to rip his arm off," Andrew warned him. "Even if you got a grip on his arm, he would have just lifted you off the ground effortlessly and given you an F-Five or something." "Just like Brock Lesnar would," JP realized with sudden understanding. "You never told me that you were a wrestling fan Andrew." "You never asked, but I know some wrestling moves too," Andrew said soberly. He looked at his watch and added, "But we've gotten way off topic and while we're alone now, it didn't happen the way quite the way I wanted it to." "Why did you want to be alone with me Andrew?" JP asked, feeling slightly nervous now that he was suddenly alone in the woods with such a huge muscular guy. "Not for anything sinister JP, so don't worry," Andrew assured him with a gentle smile. JP let out a sigh of relief and the fear slowly left his face. "You don't have to act so tough all the time JP; I know you're scared of how huge and strong I am," Andrew said, letting the smile fade from his face. "Yes I am Andrew; you told me yesterday that you could bench 800 pounds!" JP shouted in astonishment. "Is that a one rep max or a working weight?" "It was a one rep max and that's the literal truth because I haven't been able to do it again," Andrew replied. As they began jogging down the path again, he added, "My working weight is about 700 pounds for five reps." "That's over twice your weight Andrew and four times mine!" JP shouted in astonishment. "That's why your arms are so big and muscular!" "Yeah I was really happy the day my pythons got bigger than the Hulkster's," Andrew laughed. He flexed a massive bicep and kissed it softly before saying, "These puppies are sick but they don't need a vet!" "But anyone who gets in their way is going to need a hospital!" JP predicted, laughing at the cocky smirk on Andrew's face. "Thanks JP, I wasn't sure how to finish that bicep pun," Andrew said gratefully. "No problem Big Guy," JP said, patting Andrew on the shoulder. "That's 'Huge Guy' to you, Little Man," Andrew growled in mock fury. When he saw JP's eyes narrow in anger, he laughed and assured him, "I was just kidding man: you've got to learn how to take a joke!" "I know that Andrew, but I was just reminded of Ryan once again," JP sighed in frustration. "You're obsessed with your brother JP, but there's someone else you should be thinking about instead of him," Andrew advised him, recognizing his opening. When JP looked at him questioningly, Andrew added, "I'm talking about Matt; it's obvious that you love him man." "Yeah, like a big brother, which Ryan should have been," JP stated, hoping that Andrew hadn't seen Matt staring at him longingly during the fireworks the night before. "He's really filled a void in my life." "Just like Carrie did for me when we fell in love," Andrew said, finally deciding to state the obvious. JP's jaw dropped and a look of panic suddenly appeared in his eyes. "Don't worry man, I'm not grossed out or anything; don't forget: my country legalized same-sex marriage two years ago," Andrew assured him. "It's not that Andrew, but thanks for not being weirded-out," JP said gratefully. "It's just that Matt came out to his mom this morning about him and me dating and though she had already figured it out, it was still really uncomfortable when Matt told her. She's the only one who knows; I haven't even come out to my parents yet." "And I can't imagine that you'll ever come out to Ryan," Andrew realized, unable to even imagine how violent Ryan's reaction would be if he found out that his little brother was gay. "My lips are sealed man; I won't tell anyone, because Carrie already figured it out." "Do you think now that Matt's come out to his mom, he's going to tell Mike?" JP asked with a worried look on his face. "I don't think so and Carrie won't either, since she waited until she was alone with me to tell me that she knew about you and Matt," Andrew assured him. "But you might want to take Matt aside later and let him know that Carrie and I know about you two," he added. "It's only fair to him." "That's a good idea Andrew; thanks for thinking of that," JP said gratefully. As they got close to the parking lot with their cars in it, he reached up to Andrew's massive shoulder and squeezed it gently. "You're a really great guy Andrew and I'm glad that you've agreed to be my Honorary Big Brother." "I'll always be here for you JP and even for your protégé Nick, once I get to meet him of course," Andrew promised him. "Once I get to meet him in mid-August, I'll introduce you to him when we meet again," JP promised him. As they jogged within view of their friends, he asked Andrew, "Have we talked enough for one afternoon Big Guy? Are you ready for some football and Frisbee now?" "Yeah man; I have my Miami football in my backpack and I think I see Matt holding your Navy Frisbee," Andrew replied. "But before we begin, I think you and Mike should apologize to each other, so that there won't be any more trouble between you two." "Good idea man," JP said, switching back into the cocky jock he pretended to be when he was in a crowd. He stepped right up to Mike, no longer intimidated by his huge size, and held out his hand. "I'm sorry I got so mad at you earlier Mike: I was just projecting angry thoughts about my brother Ryan onto you." "Apology accepted JP," Mike assured him, gripping JP's hand gently in his huge meaty paw. "I owe you an apology as well, for acting just like Ryan probably does." "He hasn't put his hands on me for years, but he does act superior to me, just like you did earlier," JP realized. "But I accept your apology Mike and I can tell that you're not embarrassed to apologize to someone you outweigh by over 100 pounds of solid muscle!" "130 pounds to be exact, but what's a few dozen pounds between friends?" Mike asked him with a cocky smirk. "Funny man!" JP laughed, taking his Navy Frisbee out of his bag and throwing it at Mike's head. His eyes widened as Mike caught it quickly, with just one hand, and then fired it quickly back at JP. JP had to do a cartwheel to catch it, but the force of the throw knocked him off his feet. Mike started laughing but then his eyes widened as JP quickly rolled through the fall and back to his feet. "Most impressive Big Guy," Mike commended him. "I can see why you're such a threat on the wrestling mat." "Yeah man," JP said with a cocky smirk. "You may have caught me off guard before, but just try to lift me off the ground again! Next time I'll be ready for you!" "I'm sure you will JP," Mike assured him with an encouraging grin. "I can see why you're a District Finalist and next season you'll win Districts and then the State Championship in high school wrestling!" JP grinned with gratitude as he threw the Navy Frisbee back to Mike and their friends smiled in relief: pleased that JP's obsession with his brother Ryan was slowly fading into the background, at least for the time being. * THIS CHAPTER IS NOW CONCLUDED * Hope you enjoyed, I mean LIKED, it. LOL (Seriously though, thank you for the three likes so far). Coming soon: - Andrew and his friends meet JP's parents and Matt's mom for supper. - Their parents discuss what kind of influence Andrew and his friends will be on their sons.

Hello, all. This is my first story. It started out as kind of a silly idea, but it kept growing (no pun intended). If I manage to write more parts, they will probably be shorter than this. Thoughts and comments are always appreciated. And with that, enjoy! Part I -- It Bit Hard I yawned, running my hands through my short, stark ginger hair. The cool mountain air filled my lungs, tinged with the scent of pine and thin from the altitude. The clouds between the trees were pasted flat against the sky, wandering across like a moving painting. I touched my toes, stretched my legs. My path was obscured by morning fog that was quickly lifting, but I knew the way. The quiet energy of the morning spurred me forward, and I began my run. The trees kept me company until the paved path wound back into our tiny Oregonian town. Rising higher, the sun strained to find its way through the morning cloud cover as people began their day, shuffling out of their houses to collect newspapers or drive to work. Beads of sweat started to form on my skin. The cool air was a welcome relief, my lungs straining after the first few miles. By the time I had reached Charlie’s house at the end of the neighborhood, I saw him standing in his doorway. It doesn’t really take much imagination to get the idea of Charlie. A typical muscular jock, tall, handsome, clean features. Short brown hair topped deep green eyes and a slightly overconfident smile. Like Adam Levine had gotten drunk one night and knocked up Marco Dapper in our local pub. His tan skin exaggerated the features of his body, his thick arms and broad shoulders jutting out through the white wife-beater that fit nicely against the rest of torso. Clearly, the unoriginal nature of his attractiveness didn’t keep me from noticing him every time we met, which was pretty often in a town as small as this one. And he knew it too, ever since high school. He lifted his hand behind his head, his arm flexing slightly. “’Sup, little man?” he said, flashing a borderline arrogant smile. I waved, averting my gaze. It was always like this. From the expression on his face, I could tell that he enjoyed how uncomfortable he made me. My discomfort had waned since my confusing teenage years, but he still relished in my awkward furtive glances. A mixture of slight distain and familiar arousal ultimately ended as a small jolt of excitement down below before I continued on. I was drenched in sweat by the time I finally made it back home. Feeling good about my run, I stripped off my clothes and took a minute to evaluate myself in the mirror. I was handsome, if nothing else. My eyes were that startling sort of blue that you would expect with my ginger complexion. I liked to think they were kind, unassuming. Piercing, is what the last guy I was with had said. Otherwise, I had a strong jawline accompanied by smooth, relatively tan skin peppered with light freckles. After I turned on the shower, I made the same pose Charlie made to me earlier and giggled at my reflection. I was lithe, definitely, some definition here and there but nothing to write home about. Overall, I was more or less happy with my body as it was. Finding a guy on my occasional trips to the city had never been too much effort, and I had had my share of adventures enough to maintain my self-confidence. Post-shower, I threw on a T-shirt and shorts and headed to work. I was a hairdresser at the only salon we had. Yes, I was a gay hairdresser. Prior to that no one had ventured to guess that I liked men, but now I had put up with more than a few raised eyebrows. My excuse, on the rare occasion that I needed it, was that jobs were scarce around these parts, and my mom had taught me how to cut hair. Neither of these were false, and most people let it go easy enough. The job was temporary, anyhow. I was headed back to university after several years off. Aspiring mechanical engineer, had life not gotten in the way. My run had taken less time than I thought, and I set out on the long way through the woods. The best part about our rural town is that there is a trail to almost anywhere you want to go. It’s practically a postcard there. Little coffee shops and gas stations rise up almost naturally out of the woods along the one major road. Behind the lay what is practically wilderness: verdant, alpine, springs gushing forth from mysterious locations. I was keen on escaping into it as much as possible. The sun was starting to pierce the clouds and peer through the canopy. It was summer, after all, even in Oregon. Suddenly, there was an unfamiliar pain in my leg. It reminded me of a bug bite, but the feeling was immediate and intense, as though I had been stabbed by a needle. I looked down, but I couldn’t find any mark or bruise except for a small puncture that was already clotting up. The pain subsided as soon as it had started. I began to search for the culprit, but I was interrupted by a jarring shrieking sound, as if someone were rubbing two pieces of rusty metal together. My head turned directly to the source. And there it was, sitting innocently between the pine needles. Although, what it was took a second to comprehend. An insect, most likely, its body resembled something akin to a mosquito crossed with a beetle (I am a mechanical engineer, not an entomologist). It shone with a dark metallic sheen, as if it were actually made of metal. Sinister, black compound eyes stared back at me above a menacing set of mouthparts, all sharp. It was currently rubbing its needle-like proboscis as it sang its metallurgic cacophony by rubbing its spindly hind legs together. The moment I moved closer to take a look, it flew away with a buzz akin to a tiny chainsaw, its tiny wings beating furiously to support its strange body. I stood there for a second, perplexed. I wouldn’t be taking this path again tomorrow. Despite this odd interlude, I still managed to make it on time. Work was dreary. I was restless the entire day, doing ten different things at once. The customers could tell, too. Shop talk was at a minimum, replaced with uncomfortable looks and quick and simple cuts. I just wanted to get the job done and go for a run, and I was grateful by the time my shift had ended. Contemplating my uneasiness on the way home, I stopped in front of the gym. Something told me that I should go inside. I entered warily. This was not a regular activity for me. Normally by then I would have already been running, but my newfound jitters seemed to require a different kind of relief. The inside was spacious, if not a little run down. Carpet floors, old wooden paneling, decorations from the previous century that had faded away. All the facilities in our town were a little bit tainted with Americana like this. Without a friend to mooch off of, I was forced to sign up for a gym membership. My body urged me forward impatiently, and so I ignored the moderate fee and the overbearingly cheerful attitude of the guy handling the paperwork. Finally, I was granted access. Being almost entirely unfamiliar with what I was doing, I lifted a 15 pound dumbbell off the rack. The next time I looked up at the clock, three hours had passed. Three hours. My body was, as far as I was concerned, dead. Once I had started, I wasn’t able stop until my body wouldn’t move anymore. The entire experience was kind of hazy in my memory. I took a minute just to lay on the floor and breathe, hoping that death was not actually imminent. My sanity returned to me slowly, but I was confused nonetheless. I had only been in a gym three or four times in my life, and none were exactly stellar performances. Three hours of intense weightlifting seemed excessive, if not impossible. Finally, after an immeasurable amount of time (which my watch later informed me was only five minutes), I was able to lift my body and head outside. The person who had signed me up enthusiastically saluted me on the way out. His disposition was frustrating when I considered the condition I was in. I grunted something at him and left without looking in his direction. My entire body was wracked with pain, and I was ravenously hungry. My sole concern was moving my heavy body forward, one step at a time, back to my apartment. By the time I made it, I couldn’t decide whether to collapse from exhaustion or feed my starving stomach. Passing the refrigerator and pantry, I opted for the latter. It was heaven, every item that touched my lips and passed down my throat. I ate until I couldn’t anymore, preferentially grabbing any protein-heavy item I could find. After I felt I could barely move, I somehow forged a path to my bed and collapsed. Immediately I found myself in a sleep without dreams. The next morning I awoke anticipating the pain, but I found none. I felt limber, refreshed. My body was not sore at all. Maybe I hadn’t worked out as hard as I had thought? I didn’t ponder it for very long, however, as my morning wood stole my attention. My whole body felt aroused, and as my hand touched my dick I thought I was going to cum right there all over my sheets. Somehow I resisted, threw off my covers, and pulled out the lube that I kept in my nightstand drawer for such emergencies. It throbbed as I applied each spurt. I moved slowly, cautiously up and down my dick, careful not to squeeze too hard or move to fast to fend off the impending ejaculation. Every time I flexed a muscle, the feelings intensified. I made a point to flex every part of my body that I could think of, while still masturbating with the same care and attention to avoid a premature orgasm. Each stroke felt like minutes of pleasure, my whole body wracked with orgasmic sensations. My clock, however, disagreed. I came after only a minute, feeling somewhat disappointed between spasms that it hadn’t lasted longer. I used my towel (also conveniently located in my night stand) to wipe the voluminous jizz off my stomach, feeling how hard it was from yesterday. I got up and headed to the bathroom. I was still sweaty from last night. Deciding that I wasn’t going to run today, I slipped off my shirt after I started the shower. I paused. Despite the fact that I had just came, my dick hardened a little bit at my own image in the mirror. I wasn’t that much bigger than before, but the difference was notable. Grinning, I made a muscle. Not formidable, not large, but that was definitely a bicep. My pecs rose a little bit more off my chest, my abs were just a little more defined. I turned my body to find a back that was just a tad more cut, a butt just a little more firm. Oddly, my legs had not changed all that much, but I could feel that they were much stronger. I felt lighter, more powerful. Resisting the urge to touch my dick at my own visage, I hopped in the shower and headed to work, this time making sure to take the normal route. On the way over, I remembered the bug bite from yesterday and decided there wasn’t really any other explanation. Not very many exciting events tended to happen around there, so the odd ones stand out. Still, that was not much of an explanation. The parallels to Peter Parker immediately flashed into my head. Was I just going to get bigger? Or would I have all the powers of a mosquito-beetle…thing? I wasn’t really excited to become Terminator Gregor Samsa. But then I felt my body tight against my shirt, my shoulders extending out to a proud posture, my legs strong, my abs tight. It was hard to worry, or to think about how or why this was happening. It was even harder not to get an erection. All day I received compliments about how I looked. I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy it. “Did you get taller?” one of them said, and I just flashed them a smile and continued working. They would probably figure it out soon enough, if it continued like this. Luckily, I was not going to be here for very much longer. The sun continued to pass overhead. The day was long, but not nearly unbearable. I felt good, light. But the urge to go to the gym was there too, pushing me forward. I was almost giddy with anticipation as we flipped the sign to “Closed”. I rushed straight to the gym. On the way I passed Delilah, that lovely lady. She had a way of smiling that made you feel like you were at home. As far as I knew, she was the only black person in our entire town. On loan, so to speak, from a big university on the East Coast I couldn’t quite remember, Delilah was helping out at our local museum during the summer. The museum was our town’s only tourist attraction, specializing in American Folklore and Mythology of the area and of Oregon in general. Her title was technically “Folklorist”, but as she told it she was basically an anthropologist with a background in mythology. And I, having done a hairdressing stint in my college town days, was the only one who knew how to do her hair. Needless to say, we bonded. “Hi Delilah,” I said, waving curtly. “Evening, Kenny,” she said, smiling warmly. She didn’t have to say much else. Most of our interactions were unspoken. Delilah was the only person in our town that I had come out to, but she seemed to have known before I told her. We would talk about boys and our adventures in the city in private, but in public we had a kind of secret code. We walked on past each other, both apparently in a hurry to get somewhere. I finally reached the gym, feeling good from a day of compliments but tense from the anticipation. I entered and instantly I felt an unconscious reaction to the metal. It needed to be in the air, and I was just the guy to do it. I know I started with bicep curls, but after that things got a little hazy despite all my mental preparation. I remember that between the pain was an odd sort of euphoria, a mixture of physical pleasure and a sense of pride and accomplishment at what I had just achieved. Whenever I lifted something that I thought my body would never be able to, the feeling of power and strength was intense, almost erotic. It pushed me to try heavier weights, more reps. I was improving as I was lifting. After two and a half hours of pushing myself, I knew that I was done. Despite the shorter time, I had worked much harder than yesterday. When I finally fell to the floor, I stayed there for a good ten minutes before I could walk out of the gym. Almost as soon as I left the building (at this point completely ignoring the peppy gatekeeper), the hunger started again. In all of my rushing around, I had completely forgotten to restock my empty apartment. I detoured to our only fast food restaurant (luckily open at the late hour of 8 p.m.), and ordered enough chicken for five people. “I am having a get-together,” I told the cashier, looking down as I said it. She didn’t really seem to care. She called my order, and I paid my hefty sum for my five person meal. I barely managed to get outside before I wolfed it all down. It was probably the best fried chicken between two slices of bread I had ever tasted. Nothing was safe from my bottomless stomach. I ate thoughtlessly, unquenchably until it was gone. Small pangs of hunger still plagued me, but I threw away the paper remains of my meal and headed home. As I looked up, the stars were pale against the summer sky. The best thing about living in a small town is the calm darkness of the night. Looking up, the entire universe opens up to you, and anything seems possible. The dark shapes of trees surrounding familiar buildings and places give the perfect balance of comfort and wilderness. You get a sense of belonging to something bigger than yourself. But all these thoughts were interrupted by the sensations that were happening in my own body. I could feel myself growing very slowly. I first noticed in my legs, my shorts tightening around my thighs. Every step was lighter than the last, and as I ran my hands down my quads I could feel them pulsing and enlarging. My upper body grew simultaneously, and I wished I had worn a tighter shirt so I could feel it expanding in the same way. My hands instinctively reached for my biceps, harder and larger every second. I could feel my chest lifting up my shirt, and my abs growing tighter and thicker at the same time. My stomach emptied as my muscles continued to throb and expand. My dick also responded with a pump of its own. I knew that I couldn’t touch it without orgasming, I was already almost there. As my shorts continued to grow tighter from my ass expanding, it became more and more difficult to ignore the fabric pulling tighter against my already throbbing cock. Luckily, by the time I had finished most of my growth I was already home, having avoided cumming in my shorts. By now, most of my fatigue had lifted. I headed up the stairs to my apartment, noticing how easy it was to push myself up despite my new size. Once inside, I checked the refrigerator and pantry and ate whatever I had left, which turned out to be Jello and stale tortilla chips. They tasted wonderful, and I wolfed them down eagerly. My body was still pulsing and growing, but very slowly. I kept touching myself all over, constantly surprised by the new shapes and how hard my body was. I headed to the bathroom, anticipating the changes in the mirror. I was not disappointed. Full, rounded biceps met with thick forearms as I made a double bicep pose, my abs and pecs taut as they stretched out from the position. Even if my arms were only about 15 inches around, they were full and solid, powerful looking. After I let my arms fall, I took a second just to admire my new body. I found that I could now make my pecs bounce, and I relished in it. First both, then the left one, then the right one, then to some imaginary rhythm. I tightened my abs and saw the new crevices between them, and as my hands ran across them I could feel each one distinctly. Unlike yesterday, my legs had also swollen in size, and I flexed my calves to find a heavy ridge. I also got a glance at my back, my rounded shoulders meeting nicely muscled traps above a widened set of lats. If I continued like this, soon I would be bigger than Charlie. I barely even touched my dick before it exploded all over the mirror, the silky feel of my hands rubbing against my hard body. I continued to flex and admire my new form through the cum-drenched mirror, wondering how big I would become. Part II

Sorry it's been so long between chapters. I'm blown away by the response. THANK YOU! Here are Part 9 & 10. These chapters set-up some upcoming plot twists. I hope you enjoy. Part 1 HERE Part 2 HERE Part 3 HERE Part 4 HERE Part 5 HERE Part 6 HERE Part 7 HERE Part 8 HERE 9 Matt didn’t know whether to run or to sit and wait for Clint to come back. His whole body was shaking. He couldn’t believe how huge and powerful that beast was. Eventually Matt was able to get to his feet and he started to wander around the gym admiring the incredible selection of machines and weights. A minute later he heard the locker room door open. He gulped as Clint sauntered towards him. He wore tight shorts. His massive quads swung and slapped against each other as he moved. His insanely developed calves were so outrageously massive they almost touched as he walked; even though his quads forced his legs apart. Clint had put on a tank top that covered his torso like a second skin. His enormous lats expanded at an exaggerated angle from his back and he twisted his thick neck as he walked; causing his traps to rise and flex with each step. His massive pecs cast a shadow over his thick, rock hard abs. His bloated forearms, arms and shoulders looked freakishly strong as the swung back and forth. As Clint reached Matt he smiled and extended his hand. “We never really introduced ourselves.” As Matt felt the strength in Clint’s hand his legs almost gave out again. Clint noticed his reaction and applied a little more power. “Feels good doesn’t? This is barely a fraction of the strength this hand possesses.” “Sorry” Matt said and tried to release his hand but Clint held on. “What’s the matter?” “I just keep acting like a fucking pussy. I can’t control myself and I look like a stupid little bitch.” Matt started stammering. Clint pulled Matt closer and looked him in the eyes. “You do not have to apologize. I see people staring at me all the time but it’s rare to meet someone into mass as much as me. That makes me want to explode.” “But LOOK AT ME! I’m so small. I’ve been working out for years and haven’t gotten anywhere. A guy like you would never even look at me twice.” “So what? I’ve know a lot of bodybuilders that started a lot smaller then you. Besides, I saw your reaction watching me lift; you have something very few people have. You have a desire for muscle and I’d bet you are willing to anything it takes to get it.” “You’re right. I’d do anything to be as big as you.” Clint smiled and patted Matt on the shoulder; almost knocking him over. “Great! From this day forward my only goal is growing you massive.” “REALLY Y? WHY!?” Matt said with wide eyes. “Because I think you have the potential and I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you…” Clint said, grabbed Matt around the waist and lifted him off the floor. He kissed him long and hard. “As good as I imagined. I can’t wait to to that when your are big as me.” Clint said and walked to the front counter and started the paperwork for Matt’s gym membership. They continued to talk and Matt told Clint about the incident at his father’s gym. Clint chuckled. “Those two guys are going to shit their pants the next time they see you. Now lets get something to eat before we hit the weights.” Instantly Matt was comfortable around Clint. They talked for hours that first day. Matt shared his desire to get ridiculously huge and Clint not only approved but encouraged Matt to raise his expectations even higher. Clint told Matt stories about his journey to freakdom. About the reactions people had when he reached 300lbs, about the feeling he got fucking two heavyweight bodybuilders at the same time, about his own desires to hit 400lbs of ripped, hardcore muscle. "The day I walk into the gym that massive is going to be the best day of my life. I'll have the whole place begging to suck my monster cock" he mused as Matt hung on every word. Clint outlined his workout, nutrition and steroid plan for Matt. It was intense but would guarantee impressive results. Matt got hard just thinking about it. "Matt; if you have even the slightest amount of apprehension about this, you have to tell me now." "Clint; the only problem I have right now is not being able to start today. I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe I met you." It was settled. Clint told Matt to meet him at the gym at 7am the following day. Matts journey was about to begin. 10 I tried to get comfortable in my seat but I was having trouble. I surpassed the 350lb last week. The seat creaked under my incredible bulk. The people around me shot quick glances in my direction. I was loving every minute of it. The stage lights came on and the bodybuilding contestants started to walk on stage. The super heavyweight category had finally started. Tyler was the second to last contestant. As soon as the lights hit his massive body the crowd went wild. The people around me gasped and screamed. Weighing in at a staggering 287lbs; Tyler was without a doubt the largest amateur competitor ever. He had reached 310lbs before dieting for only four weeks. He shed what little fat he had in no time. Even from the fourth row his tanned, vascular body caused my cock to harden. Tyler waddled to his position on stage. He had a smug look on his face as he flexed his body and stood “relaxed”. He completely dwarfed the other competitors. His shear mass and extreme conditioning was staggering. The final bodybuilder was announced and walked on stage. He had been hyped as the one to beat - Jason Lewis. He stood 5’10” and weighed 267lbs. Any confidence he had prior to the competition was erased as he approached Tyler. There was a look of fear in his eyes as he surveyed Tyler’s massive body. Tyler just smiled and flexed a little harder causing his body to inflate even more. The judges called out the comparison poses but it was clear who the winner was. By the end the crowd was only watching Tyler. Each pose he hit caused him to grow larger and larger before the audiences eyes. I went backstage before the individual posing routines. Tyler was alone in the corner of the pumproom. He was curling a 225lb barbell as I approached. “You got this thing all tied up big man” I said. Tyler smiled. “You got that right.” Across the room his “competition” stared intently. “Looks like you have some admirers.” “Hell yeah. All these guys want a piece of me” Tyler said and set the weight down. “I can see why. You look freaky as hell. I’ve been hard since you walked on stage.” Tyler smiled and licked his lips. He stepped closer, placed a hand on my thick bull neck and, pulled me closer and kissed me. He placed his huge arms around my ass and hoisted my 355lb body off the ground. I glanced around the room and saw every set of eyes on us. In the far corner I made eye contact with Jason. His hands were covering his crotch. Tyler set me down. “Looks like we have more than just an admirer.” Tyler walked towards Jason. The poor guy looked embarrassed as hell but was too nervous to move. As Tyler approached, he rolled his traps and bounced his pecs; giving Jason a little show. “You looked good up there on stage man” Tyler said. “Th-thanks” he stuttered. “b-but you you look incredible. You’re so huge…” “Thanks man. It’s too bad I had to diet for this show though; I’d be 320lb by now if I hadn’t.” “320lb!” “At least. Can you imagine what that will look like?” Tyler asked and raised his 23” biceps. He held the pose as Jason started to visibly shake. “Go ahead, feel these massive arms.” Jason didn’t hesitate. He reached up and started to grope the massive man. He squeezed the massive peaks, traced the thick veins with his fingers and felt the deep striations that covered every inch of their surface. “Feels good man. After the show you should come back to our place. Dave and I would have fun showing you what real muscle looks like.” Jason looked over towards my hulking frame and back to Tyler. He swallowed hard. “Good. It will be a fun time.” Tyler said and walked away. The individual posing routines went just as expected; Tyler blew the competition away. Each bodybuilder was allowed a four minute routine but Tyler stayed on stage for close to 10 minutes. After his music stopped you could just hear him grunt between the screams from the crowd. I was leaking pre-cum the whole time. The judges went through the formalities of awarding the different weight class awards until crowning Tyler as the overall champ. I meet him backstage and help gather his things. After a few interviews (and more posing for the cameras” we were ready to leave. I made eye contact with Jason and he practically ran towards us as we walked out. If I could have looked away from Tyler’s incredible performance on stage I might have noticed something else happening in the crowd. Clint and Matt sat just a few rows behind me. Clint was garnering quite a bit of attention for the surrounding audience. His bloated frame was hard to miss. Sitting beside Clint was Matt. He had sat motionless the entire show; his eyes never leaving the stage. When Tyler emerged he gritted his teeth and flared his nostrils. Clint tried to keep the kid calm but it was clear he was ready to explode. “Stay cool Matt. You’ll have your chance soon enough” Clint whispered as he caressed Matt’s mammoth quad. He could feel every tense muscle twitch; threatening to split the seams of his sweat pants.

“I’ve been waiting for a very long time to find someone like you Alexander. A young man with brute strength, excellent genetics and a raging testosterone factory between his legs. Most importantly though, you have inside yourself an overwhelming desire to be huge, and you will be, with my help. I’m going to fund you in every way you could possibly need to become the biggest, freakiest bodybuilder on the planet. You’ll have muscle growing out of muscle and you’ll have the body of your dreams. I truly can’t wait to make that happen for you. Are you on board?” Alexander was unsure how to feel and what to say. Mr. Richards had invited him down to his beachfront mansion after being spotted taking a dip in a small pond a few miles inland. After a brief chat with Alexander, Mr. Richards knew that he had found what he had always been looking for. Alexander had never had an outlet to talk about his goals and fantasies before, so he was extremely open with Mr. Richards, explaining that in the past few months he had been training hard using an assortment of rudimentary gym apparatus that he had largely designed himself. Mr. Richards eyed the young man’s bulging upper arms, that he could not believe were the result of just a few months of lifting weights at home. The quads were mighty oaks too, with a big meaty ass at their north end that for practically any other bodybuilder would have been unachievable without significant pain, hard years squatting and probably even steroids. He was the whole package. Having waited to fully comprehend all that had happened, he finally responded, in a way that shocked and thrilled Mr. Richards. “You’ve been very welcoming to me today Mr. Richards, and I’m grateful. I’m going to accept your offer, but first I need to make somethings clear.” He stood up and walking to the other side of the table where Mr. Richards sat. He placed his large hands on Mr. Richards shoulders, squeezing the average sized man’s delts. “In just three months of training I’ve achieved all this, turn round and get a proper look.” Alexander removed his shirt, and then his boxer shorts, the only clothes he had had on prior. He proceeded to hit several of the standard bodybuilding poses. A classic front double biceps opened the show; he pumped each arm up repeatedly with several big gulps of air entering his enormous chest. The arms were remarkable. They were even well defined, considering that rest of his form still showed signs of high body fat. His chest and stomach drooped slightly under the weight of fat that was rapidly disappearing. The shape of well-formed pecs and abdominals lurked beneath this layer of fat, and that opportunity for development excited Mr. Richards. A fat cock and a big ball sack hung beneath the stomach, and from the second he felt eyes watching him the cock began to grow harder. He moved into a lat spread that saw developing muscle wings fly out from either side. They weren’t large, but they were impressive for an amateur after so little time working out. This pose made Alexanders pecs ascend slightly, giving his overall physique a more solid look. Finally came a stunning abdominals and thigh pose that began with him lifting his left leg three feet into the air and pounding it down to the ground with a thud that struck fear and admiration into Mr. Richards. The beginnings of quad striations were beginning to show, and an oversized calf jutted out halfway down form the knee. Alexander’s cock had risen to full mast by this point. He strutted over to Mr. Richards, arms not touching the sides of his bulky body and without forewarning rammed the huge meat into his patron’s waiting mouth. He continued talking as he thrust his cock in and out of the delighted billionaire’s jaw. “So you see, if you want me to cooperate, we’re going to have a professional relationship. And that professional relationship first and foremost means me on top, always. I’m in charge here, even though I’m doing this for your pleasure. We’re going to make both of us happy, but doing it my way. In exchange for your cooperation with this agreement I’ll never look elsewhere for support, it will all come from you. My cock is exclusively yours, and your ass is exclusively mine. I’m going to dominate you in ways you can’t even imagine yet, and we’ll both fucking love it.” Alexander decided that he wouldn’t continue this forced blowjob any longer, he was far too keen to get down to the business of growing. Besides, there would be a great many more opportunities to fuck Mr. Richards into oblivion. Mr. Richards was overcome with delight at this news. “Well, Alexander, that arrangement, as I’m sure you can imagine pleases me a great deal. So, I won’t waste any time in telling you what we have planned for you.” He stood up and marched across the room, pulling open a curtain that had split the room in half. Behind it stood a line of people looking into the distance. “These will be your coaches along the road to greatness for you Alexander. This is Franco, he will be training your lower body, look at his quads!” Sure enough, Franco was one of the IFBB’s most celebrated bodybuilding veterans, famed for his ripped and massive quads. He hit a similar abdominals and thigh pose, but this one, unlike, Alexander’s before, shook the entire room. “And this is Connor, he’ll be training your upper body. You’ll notice he’s got some real melon shoulder, and those pecs, woof! Adrian will be your dietician and chef, inform him later of any requests or needs you have, although I should warn you, success in bodybuilding does not consist of culinary pleasures, and lastly this is Tony, who will be your posing instructor. We’ll start you training posing right away, so that by the time you’ve trimmed that stomach down and put on some more mass you’ll already be a dab hand at it. Tony, what did you think of that posing you saw earlier?” Tony, who had also been an IFBB mainstay for many years stepped forward and directly approached Alexander. He was two inches taller and had about 100lbs of muscle over the 23 year old. “It was really good Alex,” He got up behind the still naked Alexander and held his large waist, “Once this waist gets down to maybe 34 inches we’ll show you how to get some swing in your posing, it looks great on stage and it’ll really highlight your abs and obliques, it’s going to look amazing, I can guarantee you that. Mr. Richards said we won’t spare a penny in turning you into the ultimate muscle machine.” Mr. Richards leaned into Alexander’s boyish face, “Well done Alexander, we’re going to turn your genetic giftedness into your dreams come true soon, let’s get to work.”

Cum to the Gym by Kezzz and Virgil. Virgil sat at the Chest Press working hard for Carl - he noticed a twinge in the satin trainer shorts - the crotch at eye level. Thrusting his arms forward, he almost hit Carl in the hip and he inched forward and seeing Carl's groin is growing in size. First it grew to 3", to 4" to 6". Without thinking, Virgil opened his mouth presses against Carl's thigh, tongue working its way up into his groin to find a loose foreskin. Breathing in, his wraps his lips around the head of Carl's penis and gobbles. With Virgil's skilful mouth, peeling back the velvet foreskin on Carl's penis, the crown leaked a pearl of precum - the nectar of lust. Virgil, slowly letting the corona gliding passed the lips and brushing across the bottom teeth along the underside of Carl's knob. The feeling was intense and thrilling, it's amazing how Carl can remain calm yet driven with the lust. It's as if everybody in the gym are insignificantly far and distant. Both Virgil and Carl could care less of what others are seeing, they both are in their world - their realm - when Carl's cock made contact with Virgil's mouth, everything else were second to their lust. With their sexual drive rapidly ramping up to full lust, they have forgotten that they're still holding on to weight, and their bodies just naturally and smoothly pushing the weights without having their minds on the task. Their bodies were pumping harder, making more testosterone in both their balls, supplying them with sexual lust. Carl's balls grew from lemon size, to orange, the jock was pushed to its limit and soon a gap was showing. Virgil slipped one of his hand under the satin pant and grabbed the pumping balls and gave it a nice caress. Outside Karl looks in - small in stature, but hung. He looks through the window at two men being one - with each other and the weight machines. his mouth went dry, for a second, then raising spit from his throat, and onto his hand. He slips the hand under the elastic of his track pants, and grips what was a flaccid appendage, but is now a rod of iron, and plays. He looks through the window, eyes fixed on Carl's peachy butt, now exposed as Virgil slips his satin shorts over his brick like thighs. Karl's index finger finds moisture coming from the eye of the helmet, for a second, he moves his hand to his tongue and tastes the forbidden liqueur, before returning to the shaft. Steam now appears on the glass window, from Karl's heaving breath. Out from the corner of Virgil's right eye, he saw Karl through the steamed glass. Virgil made eye contact with good firm stare. Carl knew what's going without turning his head to direction where their admirer is looking from. Slowly and sexily, Carl removes his tank top revealing his tight but firm waist, tapered to a wide V-lats. Carl's horse shoe triceps contract as his left arm slip out from the arm hole, and his left pec was exposed. His nipple popped out from the slab of thick prime-filet like chest, defying gravity with a nub that is big enough to be pinkie. Karl connects with Virgil's eye. Knowing he skinny - even scrawny - he glanced away again. By now, Karl's aching butt cheeks were clinched as his hips thrust forward and back pushing his piston through the cylinder of his hand. Precum and spit lubricating what appeared to be a V8 engine inside a Mini. Karl then glanced again at the marblesque gods forming the heaving duo inside. By now both the adonis have laid down the weights and Virgil, with his eyes still affixed at Karl's direction, slowly standing up with his tongue gliding along Carl's thigh, then the abs and up to the demanding nipple on Carl's left steak pec. Carl, with his eyes closed and enjoying the royal treatment. Carl always love a good sucking on his nipples. Through the grill of his gritty teeth, he moaned silently. Instinctively, he lifts his guns and pose a double biceps pose while half of his body still trapped by his tank top. The body is testing the tank top which has already tightly stretch across his chest and back like a strap. Karl moves inside - hand in pants with evidence of activity bleeding onto the crotch. As his horny trance crossed the threshold, the pants drops and he steps out of them. The underwear clad lad, stalks across the gym towards Carl and Virgil and without any grace, removes his hands from his tool, slips the underwear off, his T-shirt off in a sex filled frenzy. His 9-inch tool is left bouncing and dripping with precum and his skeletal appearance becomes insignificant. Heads turn as Karl's bobbing cock launches like a missile in the direction of Carl's peachy cheeks. One boney hand grabs Carl's hip, the other on his lad, and spitting straight at the crevice between the cheeks, to provide moisture for the torpedo to fire into the caverns of Carl's loins. Carl, knowing the queue, dropped his biceps pose and moved his hands toward his cheeks and spread them apart to give Karl's cock a sight to aim for. Carl, kept his rear tidy, smooth and muscular but gentle and ready. Virgil sensed Carl's right nipple is ripened and hardened, decided to tear his tank top off to reveal his other slab of chest and ultimately to gain access to the nipple for next suckling. The tearing sound was loud, many heads turned towards the trio. Karl felt the eyes stabbing from all directions but it's too late for him to hide away as Carl has clamped on his harden rod like strong vice. At this point, everyone in the gym - guys mainly - stopped what they're doing, and the sight is slowing causing uneasiness in their groins. Luckily, the gym owner - Jack - has no problem what so ever with the scene, in fact, in his younger years, he had a few of this experiences as well. Now in his 50s, he's still have a great body. Built like a brick house, wide shoulders and easily be mistaken for a line-backer in full armour from the back in distant. Jack, is getting very aroused and decided to head to the main door and turned the sign to 'close' and locked up to make sure no one else can interrupt the scene. The rest of the guys in the gym - just a handful, ranging from slim athletes to power lifters are attracted to the hot action corner. There's a distinct lustful aroma filling the gym, and everyone are feeling the horny drive and the sexual heatwaves. As Jack turned away from the front door, he slowly peeling off his polo shirt, and revealing his furry grey daddy muscle chest, and making his way toward the trio. Karl is now thrusting his piston in and out of Carl's hole. The rhythm is getting faster and faster and a bead of sweat comes of his forehead and heads down his wee body towards the canyon of lust. Moaning and pumping, just as then two older hands grip Karl's slender waist. Karl, surprised by the strong firm hands that have been lifting heavy weights for years. Just by the touch, he could tell those thick fingers have more strength in them than his muscles on his arm can lift. Yet Jack is gentle enough to caress the slender waist and slowly brushing up the side under Karl's armpits. Standing tall at 6'3", Jack has to lean forward to nuzzle on the back of Karl's neck which sent him a shiver up his spine. Jack whispered into Karl's ear, just audible enough for both Virgil and Carl to hear, "Quite a powerful tool for someone nothing more than a bag of bones. You sure you can push that rod of yours into that firm ass?" Jack then reaffirming his seniority by pushing his rising groin at the small of Karl's back. Karl felt the heat from Jack body, and definitely felt his superior presence rubbing his back. Karl isn't sure whether he should back off from Carl, or firmly pushing deeper, either case, his cock is hard enough that Carl is enjoying its length through his ass lip. Jack moved his rough palms forward to feel young Karl's smooth chest and strategically played with his nipples. Slight gasp escaped Karl's mouth. Jack knew then Karl has a thing for older guys, and he knew he has Karl under his spell now. The temperature is rising - and the boys in the gym were breaking out sweats of joy and energy. Launching at each other firstly with lips search for lips and tongues starting to explore for tongues. Hands gripping clothing and the sound of ripping fabric could be heard above the pump of the music. Boy on boy - man on man and juices were flowing from a threesome, now a foursome to a group of groaning, groping and moist guys. Meanwhile Virgil has finished tasting the second nipple, and Carl is enjoying the sawing of Karl's cock deep inside of him. Virgil is working his magic on Carl's member which is leaking precum like there's no tomorrow. A puddle has gathered at the bench, clear nectar dripping like a long string from the piss slit continuously without break. Virgil sat on the bench and lean forward with his mouth opened, and receives the leaking precum and swirling his tongue on the underside of the crown. This is driving Carl with madness that he's stuck between two places. Carl's instinct for more mouth over his cock took over, he grabbed Virgil's head and starting to fuck his face slowly. The slight movement forward, with his muscular ass gripping tightly on Karl's cock, Karl was launched forward making him off balanced. Jack was able to catch Karl in his palms and lifted him off the floor slightly as he stood to full height. Slowly he's aligning his member to give Karl a pre-warning of the impending visit from his python. Jack, shifted Karl to one arm, while ensuring Karl's cock is still deep inside of Carl's muscled ass without interruption. He freed his pants with his free hand and peeling it off like a thin paper off his lower body. As expected, Jack was on commando - in fact, it will be blue moon to see Jack's member being confined in jockstrap, let alone a brief or underwear. Simply there isn't anything that can contain his well endowed asset. Jack has always been very proud of his tools, he never like the ideal to compete in bodybuilding competition. Those skimpy "bikini" just can't contain even his balls, let alone his shaft when they're soft. Jack once again lean forward to Karl's right ear and whispered, "you better be liking this boy, daddy's going to deliver a truck full of load, and it's going to go somewhere - whether you'll like it or not." Karl is fearing for his life but strangely enough, he found himself more aroused with the husky commanding voice from his back. Karl has never been fucked before, he has always been the one pushing the rod and today he's going get his cherry popped. Karl never wanted to admit his desire for an older man to take control of him. He never had a father figure in his life, or at least one that can be assertive enough to dominate him. Billy - Jacks vey first client - by this stage naked, apart from his training shoes, has gained pride of place standing over the foursome on the steps. He is furiously masturbating, oblivious to everything around him. Eyes closed, drip coming over his nipples mingling with the fores on his chiselled chest. His trimmed pubes reveal a thick vein running up his girthy cock, and his hand clenched tight and running up and down, the cock turgid with blood flow and the eye beginning to open. With a groan, followed by a shout of "I'm cumming, a steady cream stream of fluid shoots out over the writhing bodies below." Shot one - splashes on Karl and shot two hits Karl in the face, a tongue sweeping the drip off his nose and into his mouth, the third shot flies across the trio and then in a spasm, the last drops fall to the floor as Billy convulses and groans - not in pain, but shear pleasure. Jack, with years of experiences with young boys (or men even). He knew no one can resist his charm and certainly what he kept between his legs. Whenever his pants dropped, there will be guys fallen to his feet, fighting to service him. Jack would laugh about how many times he had to keep giving it, and still doesn't seem to drain his bull balls flat. In fact, his balls seem to churn out more load as the lust getting heavier - he's not complaining, he loves sex, especially to the virgin hole that he can pop the cherry off! John John, tall and broad, with the "w" of pecs stretch east to west across his chest, punctuated by deep brown nipples, stepped forward to be the next to take aim at the trio. John John had thighs that could crush watermelons and calves that whistled while walked. His shorts were still on, but his penis had popped through the fly and was throbbed and precum pumping every so slowly as it waved about freely as, John John walked across the gym. Gyrating his hips, no hands at all, this fountain of youth started pumping all by itself. John John's tower spurting cum like a sprinkler on the 9th hole, watered the floor with a creamy syrup. Pumping again and again, he just kept going - never ending cream, never ending groans, with the boys rushing to catch drips from the air. After Billy's loads shot across Karl, Jack barked out in laughter and taking control of the group demanding the boys around him, all pumping their hard purple cocks. Jack cheering John John to put more effort over his cock as he wants to see his plaything - Karl - getting drench with all the protein. Virgil is also feeling the pressure from Carl's cock in his mouth, he knew it won't be too long before Carl's orange size balls are ready to blow. With his own hands, Virgil is stroking the length of his cock rigorously and breathing in only enough through his nose while his mouth is occupied in full by Carl's cock. Carl's breathing hard, he's panting and clamping even tighter on Karl's cock. Jack, from far back is loving the view as he watches the action from the reflection on the mirror. Laughing out, seeing all the boys are on the verge of cumming. His most delight prize, the one "standing" in front of him in his arm, is getting drench with cum from both sides and flowing down his crack. Jack is using the cum as his lube and slowly driving his girthy cock, blunt head into super tight hole. Despite Karl's anticipation for something big, he has not expected the size Jack has and he yelped helplessly as Jack firmly holding him like a baby. There's no escape, Jack slowly but surely pushing his head in and past the pincher. Jack laughed as Karl frightened by the intruder, then Karl spasms. He has erupted his load into Carl just by having Jack's daddy cock head piercing through. Jack now holding Karl in both arms and calming him down like baby while pushing and grinding his shaft into the tight hole that has never been stretched. Jack knew it will be difficult for Karl - heck anyone would have difficult trying to let a 7" round girth sliding in, and that's just at the crown, the rest of the shaft expand to a good thick 9" girth at the base, at 10" length. Just holding Karl isn't giving him much leverage, so Jack stretch his arms to hold Carl's lats to pull them both closer to his body. Carl moaned as more of Karl now semi hard entered him. Virgil not wanting to lose the cock in his mouth, he planted forward into Carl's groin which pressing on to his big balls. Just like that, Carl shot his load, and without any resistance, he shot good 5 heavy loads straight into Virgil's throat. Virgil isn't wasting any of those high protein, as he swallows, his throat muscles is draining every bit from Carl's cock head, massaging it with each gulp. Jack surveyed the surrounding, all the boys are either exhausted from their loads or close to blow their loads and yet he hasn't even started his jackhammer pilling action with Karl yet. He knew it is going to take some effort when he's super horny, his balls demand good driving in a tight hole before they're satisfied to open the flood gate to mark his presence. With just 3 inches inside of poor Karl stretched hole, he picked up a couple of plates of 10KGs in each hand to do some curling just to make the fun more interesting. Jack is proud of his staying power; he knows he maybe old but he has a sexual drive of an 18 years old. With the weights in his hands. He holds them onto Carl's body and started thrusting forward and lifting both the young’uns in front of him a little bit. Virgil is finally fed with Carl's load fallen back and admire the view of two men, chained fucked by Jack. Nothing seem to stop Jack and his power, Virgil cannot believe his eyes that someone in his 50s have such power, it is like a tank ramming at anything it can. Everyone else in the gym are now surrounding Jack and chanting him on, they all want to see what Jack can do with these two men. Jack dropped the weight plates as he wants to have better grip on his boy-toys. He shifted his stance, and lifted both Carl and Karl and all balanced by his oak sized thighs. Carl isn’t exactly light, at 85kgs and Karl at best 60KGs, that's a decent amount of weight to hold up. With the boys at such angle that Jack can push his cock deeper into Karl, the cum from earlier fountain shots helped lube up a smooth penetration. 6" in, 7" in, soon it's all 10" planted deep into Karl, Everyone were amazed that Karl took it all, especially at a base of 9" girth, it seems impossible for anyone to sustain that stretch, it is like getting fisted! Karl is borderline fainting but his body still functioned by ecstasy. Jack now is ready to pile-drive his cock and his balls are definitely growing with loads ready for good blow out. Jack knew he can keep this going but he doesn't want the boys to wait any longer, a few rough powerful pounding which see his cock taken out 6" at most, before pushing back into tight hole. Few more rounds and he's ready. He could sense his balls have a load that will drench the area until kingdom cum. The elder statesman of the gym is now taking control of virgin man pussy as his experience finds the freckle of ecstasy Karl lets out a shout "pump me" he screams and Jack mounts the boys’ hips and pushes him further into Carl. Creating a slippery mess on the mats in the gym was Jack's crescendo in the event. Any unspent cock was ordered to "Water The Garden" as the flows lay there with mouths open and slipping around in the cum splatted floor. The danger now was the participants would start to lose hardness and Jack did his old favourite trick of tickling the boys up - finger first.

The Call -Part I: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6130-the-call-part-i/ The Call –Part II Strolling the golf course’s edge, Frank held Lenny’s elbow as he told him about the invitation to join More to Life. Lenny was surprised, even with Frank’s cold call and invitation to visit overnight. “How can there be an opening with everyone so healthy and strong.” “We’re not immortal. No vampires here, Lenny. We die. The most recent was a woman volunteering at an Ebola clinic in Africa. We have accidents, cancers, although rare, and everything else. Heart attacks remain the popular way to go. Men average ninety-two years and women ninety-eight. Our oldest resident is Ruth at one hundred and five and looks not a day over sixty. There are thirty centenarians among our six hundred residents. Plans to double the facility in five years has everyone worried; a drastic change to the recruitment process.” Lenny stopped walking. “And why me?” Frank faced Lenny. “Because besides my wife, no one was ever as good to me as you.” Lenny blinked. **** A sign identified the modern, tinted glass building with a triangular entrance as the More to Life Holistic Center –a gym. Lenny stopped, unsure he wanted to go further down the rabbit hole. Frank nudged Lenny. A man behind the glistening marble front desk waved Frank to a side office. The room’s glass wall faced the weight training area. Frank moved Lenny to the window, giving him a full view of the half-acre. Mirrors covered the four walls. Half-mirrored structures subdivided the main floor into parcels: aerobic area, belted machines, and free-weights, which had the largest footprint. Buff men and women navigated the muscle launch pads. Men swayed with the weights they hauled, the women’s thighs were shopping bags filled with stones. Lenny’s jaw ached from gapping —and the thought of May’s kiss. A noise from behind startled Lenny; seeing the mammoth in the room shocked him. ‘Lenny, meet Todd Gimble, the biggest and strongest among us. Todd, this is my friend Lenny.” A USDA stuffed canvas at six two and two hundred and fifty pounds direct from Costco stuck out a hand. Lenny looked at his own hand, then Todd’s shovel. Todd laughed, and fist bumped Lenny’s shoulder, sending a thousand volts down his arm. “Sorry, man, I keep forgetting my strength,” said Todd producing a double bicep flex that blurred Lenny’s vision. Two humps rose above Todd’s ears. Honeycomb shoulders acted as slopes to the high peaked biceps. “Go ahead Lenny, give them a feel. That’s what we do here.” Todd’s head turned to each bicep, as if he didn’t know how they appeared. Frank moved next to Lenny. “I know, the flexing and touching seems strange, but big men like Todd thrive on confirmation.” Stepping in front of Lenny, Frank placed one hand over the upper portion of Todd’s right arm while pointing to Todd’s left. Lenny’s hand landed on molecule thin skin splayed over veins layered on a bicep so big it needed a room of its own. Lenny’s fingers crisscrossed the Interstate of veins, with blood pulsing at sixty-miles per hour porting oxygen up the muscle mountain. “Twenty-two inches, Lenny. You should have seen me when I retired. A fucking plump, overripe tomato.” Todd puffed out his checks, and then burst into laughter. “That’s BS.” Frank shook his head and chuckled. “Todd looks this way because he arrived big. He played college ball and the NFL drafted him his junior year. A blown out knee is the only reason you don’t own a team jerseys with Todd’s name.” The rest of the story was predictable: drink, depression, and inactivity. At forty-five Todd had layers of fat, but never a squish tomato. Lifting his shorts, Todd’s pillar legs dwarfed his upper body. His veins compared to the Floridian canals, like those Lenny had once spent paddling before he’d become ill. Todd tensed his right leg causing a muscle eruption, the kind meant to crack tundra. Frank knelt, motioning Lenny to follow. There was enough landscape for both their hands; or to lie down and take naps. Lenny explored the outer thigh, his hand scraped along the angry central dewdrop muscle that pushed the other sinew outward. He could hear Todd, but had no sight of his head. Todd shouted Latin names as Lenny’s hand moved along the leg’s surface. Using Todd’s leg as a handrail, Lenny steadied himself to stand. Without warning, Todd took hold of Lenny under his armpits to jettison him into the air and catch him on his way down. **** Todd called out names and ages as part of Lenny’s tour of the holistic facility. Lenny thought it a joke. He saw no correspondence with the faces and bodies to the ages. Everyone wished Lenny well; a few flexed. They stopped in front of a woman identified as Shareen, sixty-nine, but appeared to be in her late-thirties. She was squatting with two hundred pounds on her shoulders. Todd’s steadied her last rep with a hand on her back. “Hey, Shareen,” Todd said with a trill, “Shall we show Lenny our squat variation?” Shareen giggled, her legs spread, stretching Lycra pants to emphasize her grapefruit rear-end. Todd placed the barbell behind her neck then knelt in front. Shareen mounted his shoulders. Once secured, Todd duck-waddled to grab another two hundred pound barbell. Shareen lifted her legs, allowing Todd to rest the barbell on his chest’s upper shelf. Todd squatted for ten repetitious. On dismount, Shareen repeated her signature giggle, and rubbed Todd’s shoulders. “See you later, Toddie?” Touching two fingers to her lips, she rubbed them across Todd’s cheek. Lenny thought Todd in his mid-thirties, but asked anyway. Todd inflated his biblical chest to sing out his coming seventieth birthday. Lenny blinked, seeing muscles draped on a young man, and a liar. The parade resumed. Lenny observed flexing; women’s bosoms pushed workout bras beyond manufacturer’s limits. Bare-chested men ignored sweat channeling down muscular ridges as they bounced their pecs. Todd opened an inlaid door that blended into the wall. The inner room was thirty feet on a side. Mirrors ran from floor-to-ceiling. The dumbbells ranged from five pounds to two hundred, and preloaded barbells went higher than Lenny thought practical. Jamal stood in the middle of the room, alone. Lenny thought Jamal the youngest of anyone so far and he was correct on two scores: Jamal’s body and face fit a twenty-year-old, and his real age at fifty-two made him the current youngest resident. His body resembled a pro bodybuilder. Jamal curled a barbell hijacked from a semi-trailer axle. Lenny tried not to focus on Jamal’s small posing suit; a suit so tight the imprint of his genitals was visible. The barbell clanged on release. Jamal adjusted his poser, shifting his penis to a new position. He greeted Todd with a punch to his shoulder. Todd feigned injury. Jamal bellowed like Tarzan while pounding his chest. As if required, Jamal started a posing routine that lasted two minutes. Muscles popped, cinema style. Lenny felt dizzy, suffocated by the reflecting muscle in the mirrors. Turning one-eighty degrees, Jamal’s back flared supertanker wide. His flared muscles busted the sound barrier. “What do you think, Todd? Am I getting there?” Frank nudged Lenny, leaving Todd alone with Jamal. Outside the room, Frank explained that Todd trained Jamal for the upcoming More to Life’s bodybuilding competition. Members were not permitted to enter outside events, so they started their own. But members were encouraged to attend contests and record them. The More to Life technical crew projected the videos onto large screens: life size and 3-D. “Don’t’ ask me how they do it?” said Frank in monotone. Frank continued his explanation. More to Life members posed next to the on-screen contestants. The judges compared members with the video contestants. So far a More to Life member won every time. Frank swore it wasn’t rigged. The members really were bigger, better proportioned, and more ripped. Lowering his voice, Frank told Lenny that Todd’s interest went further than training bodybuilders. Frank put a finger to his lips, seeing Todd come out of the posing room. Todd laughed, throwing his arm around Lenny’s neck, the gravity strength pulled Lenny‘s head to the nadir of Todd’s nipples. “Don’t worry, Lenny, I expected Frank would tell you my secret.” Todd laughed and grabbed his crotch. Frank shook his head hard. “Fine, I’ll stop. Now, go on, tell our story.” This was their story because Frank had played a roll. One day, off campus, they had purchase guest passes at a local gym. They often did this, getting a kick teasing townies by tossing around vast amounts of weights. During this visit, Todd saw a young man, late teens or early twenties, with terrible training form --wasted effort. Todd removed his shirt and started to pose near Kidd —Todd’s nickname for the man. Todd waited until Kidd noticed, which didn’t take long. In no time the two spotted each other. Todd kept his poundage lower than Kidd’s, not wanting to embarrass him. Kidd became overconfident, and challenged Todd to an arm-wrestling contest. Frank officiated and half the club observed. Todd pretended to struggle, but his rising three-scoop bicep gave the game away before it finished. As consolation, Todd whispered to Kidd while holding him in a bear hug that he’d take him to dinner as consolation. Frank stopped talking, tilting his head to Todd. “I’ll finish. So, Lenny, I hope this doesn’t embarrass you, but I have an attraction to young male muscle, if you get my drift. I have since college.” Lenny’s lips pursed, whispering Shareen’s name to Frank, but Todd heard and laughed. “Shareen, the squat lady?” Todd laughed again. “We’re just friends. Sometimes we hook up. A few other women too, but they’re not my first choice. I’m just doing my duty to share the muscle.” Frank waived at Todd. “Too much bragging? Okay, so to continue, Kidd and I had fun at his place and still do. He was buff then but you should see him now.” Todd flexed his arm while he hovered his hand over his bicep, indicating a growing mound. “Before I left Kidd that night I had emptied several packets of our special brew into the his protein shake. Two days later Kidd called to report a jump in weight and size. He thought it a result of my training advice.” Frank broke in. “The formula has a bigger impact the younger the person, but no one here is under forty-five, so how much on early twenties or younger is unknown. Jamal’s the nearest test case. The biochemists don’t want to try any younger.” Todd shook his ahead. “I would be severely reprimanded if anyone found out. But only Frank knows. Oops, I guess you do too. I broke the rule only once, I promise. So what?” Frank rubbed one index finger over another. “Come on Frank, you always follow the rules?” Frank put his right hand on his heart, raising the palm of his left hand upright. “Yeah, right. Anyway, Kidd has worked hard. I’ve been to contests with him and he’ll get a pro card in a few years, before he’s thirty. He took first place at the Junior Mister Florida at twenty-four.” Before Todd started on another story, Frank interrupted to say he had a meeting and he would meet Lenny at the clubhouse. Todd smiled. “Don’t worry, Frank, I’ll get him there, even if I have to carry him.” Lenny grimaced. “I’m kidding.” The tour continued to another room behind the big glass wall. Several men and woman were posing. Lenny eyes widened at what he thought a muscle truck stop; anywhere he looked he saw bulging sacks unloading. Todd moved Lenny to another door, but it was locked. "Occupied." Todd smiled with cheekbones pushing his flared nose. “This room is like the last but has a table, a couch, a few chairs, a trampoline, and two swings hung from the ceiling. It’s men only and that…” Todd pointed to an adjacent room, “that’s women only. Across the floor is an identical coed room. That’s were I’ll meet Shareen.” Todd gyrated two hands under his massive breasts and twirled his nipples. Lenny shrugged, so Todd continued. “These are different kind of posing rooms. When the doors locked, its a private session.” Todd winked. There was no change in Lenny’s facial expression. “Let me spell it out. In the last room people posed in contest suits. In here they don their birthday suits. And muscle exploration isn’t only with hands.” … “Do you understand, Lenny?” … “I’ll assume you do. I’ve told you this so you know everything about More to Life for your decision. There are no restrictions or judgments on people’s behavior. There’s more to life, get it?” Lenny throat seeped air. “Is it obligatory?” “Hell, no. Not every member goes in for this, but you’d be surprised how many do. Most people start off saying its not for them, until they gain massive amounts of muscle. They become curious about what big muscle can do besides pump iron.” This ended Lenny’s tour and he needed a break. Todd slugged his frappe in a gulp, and then waited as Lenny stared into his pink frappe. Lenny wanted to skip the meeting. He would have preferred to return to Frank’s house. He didn’t tell Todd he knew this wasn’t for him, and he didn’t need to see anymore. He shivered at the thought of being groped. He didn’t like people’s touching him. Lenny closed his eyes, an attempt to eradicate the tour’s muscle saturated images, and especially Jamal’s penis-imprinted posing suit. Todd’s finger with the force of a ball-peen hammer tapped Lenny’s shoulder. “We better go, or we’ll be late” A chill seeped down Lenny’s spine. He felt like a small child walking next to Todd. As two big buff young bodies stopped to talk, Lenny thought this constituted a crowd. Lenny’s mass had no impact on the sidewalk acreage. He folded his arms upon entering the clubhouse. He had made his decision. ****

Read what precedes this chapter if need be: Muscle Buddies 1.0 & 1.1: https://muscle-growt...orkout-session/ Muscle Buddies 1.2: https://muscle-growt...eping-a-secret/ Muscle Buddies 1.3: https://muscle-growt...now-who-we-are/ Muscle Buddies 2.0 & 2.1: https://muscle-growt...ng-the-admirer/ Chapter 2.2: Let's Assume That We Can Get Along Spending time with Omar over the summer before his senior year of high school has been incredibly satisfying for Jeff, especially after the recommendation from his assistant football coach Colton Goodwin. His relationship with Dustin has stayed fairly strong despite both of the teenagers urges to let off some steam with various friends of theirs. Jeff’s decision to focus solely on his rugby training is surprising considering that coach Goodwin expected him to work towards football rather than the other sport. This could have played into the decision of why Colton has started spending more time with Dustin and ending up falling for the amateur bodybuilder. Jeff’s unusual relationship with Omar has never really been a problem for Dustin since he has always known that they have fooled around with each other. What he doesn’t know however is that they are doing it far more frequently than before. The sessions they have are more about just showing off how strong each of them is with the other. Jeff’s ability to lift Omar above his head now in his senior year compared to where he started at the beginning of the summer is beyond compare. Omar has grown weak for this kind of horseplay and Jeff is fully aware of it. After nearly every practice for rugby, they train together and wait until the rest of their team leaves before they move on to more important matters. Jeff’s fellow teammate West, who has spent some very personal time with Dustin as well, has had his theories about Jeff and Omar’s relationship. He has known his fellow classmate long enough to know when he is being fairly secretive. His curiosity finally gets the better of him one night after all of the other guys leave. Acting as if he is going to go shower after a training session, he walks down the corridor to the locker rooms and stops before sneaking around a corner to watch the two thick seniors as they start to horse around with each other on the Smith machine. They both are wearing tank tops that hug their beefy chests as well as tight pants that are nice and snug on their bloated legs and asses. West himself wears similar clothing and wastes no time before he pulls his tank and pants off to stand directly in the path of the two brutes. His cock is already dribbling a pool of precum on the ground in front of him just beyond the gym floor. He never once touches it with his hands as it throbs and bounces its way up and down. Jeff and Omar laugh as they strip down to where they are wearing nothing before they pounce on each other. In the beginning of this scene, it is Omar that is the aggressive one but quickly changes to where it is Jeff who takes full advantage of him with his size and strength. Jeff’s power turns Omar on greatly as he moans in his deep voice. West has never seen this side of his good friend before, the rough and rowdy beastly man who wants to be the one in control. Both bulky teens are already soaked and glisten with sweat as their muscles strain and tense with each movement they make. West moans to himself as he runs his hands up and down his ripped muscular chest and tweaks his hard nips making his cock jump each time. He makes thrusting motions in the air like he is fucking someone. He won’t hold out long because he was already horned up from the intense workout he just finished a few minutes previously. He grunts and seconds later sprays several jets of cum all over the ground as it coats the light colored wood. His voice manages to carry its way far enough over to get the attention of both Jeff and Omar which embarrasses him immensely. Before he can turn the other way to escape to the lockers, he hears Jeff’s voice calling for him to come over and join them. He stops moving in his tracks to think about his decision before he walks toward them. Both of the beefy teens grin as they get up off the floor and grab him by the legs to pick him up to put him on their shoulders. Jeff never really thought about West much beforehand, but after seeing his teammate get turned on so much by what him and Omar are doing, he is willing to include the smaller stud in the fun. Both Jeff and Omar take turns using West as a barbell as they deadlift him over and over again. It starts off with some light teasing and quickly moves into full-blown worship as the smaller teen can’t help but to massage both of the stud’s thick chests with his mouth and tongue. It isn’t long before West moves down to find their meaty cocks and works them over slowly and methodically making the big boys grunt each time he deep throats them. Jeff and Omar take turns punching at each other’s stomachs while West gets lost in massaging their immense rods. The taste of their precum sets him on fire as he feels another load building up in his own balls. West stops sucking them occasionally to look up at them to see what they are doing to each other. Jeff will flex his massive guns every time he notices West looking and smiles down at him before telling him to go back to servicing his cock. After several minutes of gulping on both poles, the smaller teen can feel them getting closer to bursting. He stops sucking finally to stroke them both in unison. Their hips thrust in sync with each other as West moans loudly feeling his body thrusting along with them. In a remarkable turn of events, both Jeff and Omar explode at the same time and hit West in the face as giant rivers of cum go splashing down his chest and onto his cock. The instant the white flood hits West’s rod, he shoots another big load all over the gym floor. Once he finishes, he gets up and hugs both men tightly. Jeff and Omar continue to smack each other around this time moving up to their pecs and grunting a few times. West asks them to kiss each other, but they decline. Instead, Jeff picks him up and wraps his thick arms around the fit teen’s waist and pulls him in to kiss his lips. West moans deeply as he puts his hands on Jeff’s head and leans into him. Omar smiles and asks if they need to be alone which prompts Jeff to immediately stop kissing the thinner teen. He asks the strongman if he would want a kiss from his friend since he is pretty good at it. Omar resists at first but then grabs the teen to turn him around. West peers into the big man’s brown eyes and swoons a little. They smile at each other before West leans in to lock lips with the burly powerlifter. To Omar’s surprise, he actually likes the way the fit teen kisses him and holds him tightly against his barrel chest. After a few minutes of light kissing, Omar puts West back down on the floor. Both Jeff and the big strongman rub their admirer’s head to show their affection for him before they grab their stuff to go to the locker room. West sits down in the same spot for a minute or two to take in what just happened. He finally gets up and follows behind them to go wash up from the amazing encounter he just had.

My contribution to the forum however I never wrote it. It was something I found on my computer. Some FanTCMan/FanTCDude wrote it. Let's just say I never make it to the end of the story Hope you guys enjoy! Mr. Tucker Forrest had every reason to think that he was as powerful as his position. His company had remained small by ad industry standards, but by specializing in sports related accounts, and landing several of the largest, T. Forrest Inc. had become a significant player. His select staff were all sports devotees of one kind or another, and knew better than most just how to service their accounts. One area that Tucker had not yet locked up was sports nutrition and supplements, but he thought he was about to nail that one, too, with the help of one of his top account execs, Larry Littleman. Tucker had hired Larry based on the fact that he was a personal fitness trainer with serious qualifications in physical therapy, nutritional therapy and non-traditional supplements. Larry also had the outgoing personality and the looks to be successful as an AE. Tucker had, in fact, secured Larry's services not only as an AE, but also as his own personal trainer. Tucker was strikingly handsome and well built and he had every intention of maximizing those attributes professionally. After several months, Tucker discovered that Larry was not just into maintaining a fit, toned, cut physique. Larry was really more into bodybuilding. Eventually he told Tucker he didn't care at all about competing as a professional bodybuilder, but he did have a personal goal of building himself up to where he could. Tucker wasn't about to let himself be pushed in that direction, and he wasn't sure how that kind of body would be received on one of his AEs. When Tucker hired Larry, even before he saw him in workout clothes, he could tell he was built, but having a great looking staff of athletes was what he wanted. Larry was one of those guys who would drive women crazy. He had the face of a daytime soap opera star and a head of thick, dark blond hair to go with the face. Even in business clothes, he had the posture of a man proud of his body. His loose fitting slacks showed a great butt, and his dress shirts showed a pair of nicely developed pecs and arms that pretty much filled his sleeves. When, in their talks about workout goals, Forrest realized that Larry was serious about building himself up to the proportions of a bodybuilder, he felt he needed to say something. He thought that Larry's credibility as an AE might be compromised if people thought he was becoming some kind of freak. But Larry said, very respectfully, that he felt that how he developed himself was his business, and that it shouldn't get in the way of his effectiveness. In fact, he told Tucker, he was working on landing an account that could become huge. Tucker was intrigued. Larry told him that some new bodybuilding supplement had been developed, and the inventors were looking for test subjects and an agency to represent their product. T. Forrest was a natural, and they had sought out Larry to get to Tucker. Larry told Tucker that they needed to complete just a couple more tests, and they'd be ready to go to market. He also told him that he, himself, was to be a test subject. Tucker immediately thought about having his own in-house testimonial, if this supplement worked. Larry told him he was scheduled to meet with them that night and would report back the next day. These guys were anxious to get moving and get rich. The next day Larry called in to say he couldn't come in that morning. He told Tucker that he'd taken their stuff the night before, and it did work. In fact it worked so fast and so well, he had to get some new clothes to wear. He said that the prospective clients had asked to meet with him, Tucker, at lunch to discuss plans for a media launch of the product. Larry said he'd meet him there, and named one of the top restaurants in town. Larry thought about it all morning. Would he be able to see a difference on Larry? He knew, if it worked, the market for this kind of thing could be vast. When he walked into the restaurant, escorted to the table by the maitre d', his mouth dropped open. Facing him was Larry, flanked by two men he assumed to be the clients by their extraordinary physiques, obvious even in business suits. Larry was grinning with pride as he stood to greet Tucker, the source of his pride clearly manifested. Tucker openly stared at Larry. So did almost everyone else in the restaurant. He was not wearing a jacket; just dress slacks, shirt and tie. He was huge. His arms more than filled the sleeves and strained the material of the extra large shirt. His back was so wide Tucker could see from the front how his lats flared thickly, pulling the fabric tight, causing it to cling to the huge pectoral muscles that sat broad and massive on his chest. Larry apologized for not wearing a jacket, saying that when he tried to get into his this morning, he couldn't get his arms into the sleeves. But, he said to Tucker, who cares when it's obvious that the product works. He acted overjoyed, showing Tucker how dramatically it had worked on him since about five thirty the night before, flexing one of his huge arms so that the shirt looked about to split open from the strain. And, he told his boss, it's still working. It takes twenty four hours to do its complete job. And it feels absolutely wonderful. Tucker's emotions bounced around as he sat discussing ideas for a campaign, convinced by what he saw that the potential for the product was huge, but not convinced that a physique like Larry's, or even these clients', would go over with the average guy. In fact, he felt a little embarrassed by Larry's size and his uninhibited display. Larry, meanwhile, maintained an infectious level of enthusiasm about the results he was experiencing and how he felt. He said he could almost feel his clothes getting tighter. As Tucker listened, he couldn't help but imagine what that must feel like, to have such massive muscles that they could be too big to be contained by a shirt, even an extra large tent of a shirt like Larry was wearing. They all laughed about various scenarios of guys using the product and growing huge in different situations, like at the beach or during an airplane flight. Or sitting in a fancy restaurant at lunch. Imagine some guy in his business suit suddenly getting too big for his britches. Tucker laughed, but his imagination was working too effectively all of a sudden. He could imagine how strange that would feel, the trousers becoming tight on the legs, tight in the crotch. Or the jacket sleeves feeling too tight when bending the arms to lift a bite of food or a glass. His imagination was producing such vivid pictures that he could actually feel what that would be like. He could imagine his reactions, a combination of panic and exhilaration. Suddenly the restaurant felt stuffy and hot. Just thinking about that made him feel jittery. His skin was itching. Just a little, when he first noticed it, then growing stronger, like he had hives creeping up his arms and legs, then all over his groin, then spreading from his groin all up his stomach and chest. He couldn't let himself sit there and scratch or sweat in front of these new clients, and he felt embarrassed that his reaction to thinking about what this product could do was so strong. He excused himself and went to the bathroom. When Tucker got into the bathroom, the mirrors gave him evidence that those sensations of his clothes feeling tighter were not just his imagination. As soon as he was inside the door, he frantically scratched the raging itching of his chest and stomach, and he thought, strangely, that his pecs felt bigger to him. He looked at his reflection and saw that his jacket looked too small, too snug. Maybe he just hadn't noticed this morning. After all, he had been building up with Larry's training routine. The itching was feeling out of control. He scratched all down his arms to the back of his hands. He looked at them in shock. The backs of his hands were covered with short, dark hair, hair that hadn't been there before. He unbuttoned his cuff, pushed up his sleeve, and saw the same kind of dark hair growing on his forearm. This couldn't really be happening! He quickly unbuttoned the front of his shirt. All that itching was being caused by dark hair sprouting thickly all over his chest and stomach. He looked just like one of those hairy guys who shaves and lets it grow back It was short and lay flat on his skin, but already he could see the swirls and pattern it was making. It wasn't his imagination at all. And it wasn't his imagination that his clothes were getting tighter. His arm muscles were bigger, and so were his pecs. They must have slipped him some of their product. He pulled himself together, buttoned his shirt, which was now almost tight across his chest, and returned to the table. There, he asked them what was going on. Larry told him that they had all felt the best way for him to understand the product was to experience it himself. Tucker tried to hold back his panic. He asked how much they had given him, and one of the clients, Jake, told him they had given him a basic, full dose, like Larry had taken. Now Tucker stared at Larry with a new and different kind of interest. Panic subsided and curiosity set in. His mind could barely grasp the fact that he could soon be as massively built as Larry. He looked at the way Larry's arms, at rest, strained the material of his huge sleeves, filling them up tight and full, and bulging insanely when he lifted or bent his arms at all. Across his gigantic chest his pecs stood out like pillows filled with steel, straining the fabric, pulling the buttons. He noticed that, at his collar where he had loosened his tie, there was hair creeping up and out over the collar. Tucker knew that Larry had had a completely hairless torso. It looked good, he thought. What a strange thought to cross his mind, that hairon a guy's chest would look good. Or not. But it did look good to him, kind of darkly masculine and sexy. Tucker felt himself sweating as the conversation at the table continued as if nothing strange were happening. His itching had not abated, and he guessed that he was feeling hair continuing to grow. Strange, but suddenly he found the idea growing of body hair very hot. He wished he could look. He tried to act casual and continue to eat and talk and drink, but every time he lifted something to his mouth, he could feel his arm a little bigger inside his sleeve. Soon, even the arm at rest began to swell against the fabric of his shirt and jacket. His clothes were becoming uncomfortably tight. He felt his slacks becoming tighter and tighter. At first he just felt the tightness in his thighs, but soon he could feel his calves filling the fabric. At the same time, the material grew tighter around his hips, and he figured his glutes must be getting bigger, too. And he also realized, to his astonishment, that the crotch of his slacks had started to constrict him in his groin, crowding his genitals. With the hand in his lap, he felt himself, confirming his most outrageous suspicion. What was inside the crotch of his pants was also growing bigger, and with his thighs pulling his pants tight, his dick and balls had no place to fall, and suddenly, there was his meat making bulges in his slacks. His meat! How big was it getting? He could feel that there was more there, crowded, sensitive, even his balls making their own bulges with their swollen size. He began to feel extremely self conscious and, at the same time, extremely turned on by what he felt. He felt his dick starting to swell and grow hard in his pants. With his hand, he could feel the size of its head and it didn't feel real as it crawled, growing bigger and harder, along the side of his groin, over his thigh toward his hip bone. He couldn't stand up now without showing the whole restaurant the effects this transformation was having on him. He wanted to be angry. He couldn't believe they had done this without telling him first, and he told them so. Larry asked if he would have gone along with it. He said probably not, and Larry said that's why they hadn't asked. But his anger was being quickly swallowed up by his growing feeling of excitement. Strange, he thought, but even as he was sitting there, he knew that something was changing, not just in his body, but in his head, too. He had been on Larry's case about getting too big, with his bodybuilding, to keep his place as an acceptable ad man, and now, suddenly, he was looking at Larry's enormous size and finding it exciting, even desirable. In fact, he was sure he could see Larry getting even thicker and more massive as they sat there, his shirt tighter, more revealing, causing increasingly strong waves of erotic stimulation to radiate through him. His collar grew tight and he felt hot. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the collar button, and when he did, he felt hair growing at the base of his throat out of his collar. The waiter cleared their plates and brought coffee while Larry and the other two discussed the incredible potential of their product, once its ability to transform was made public. The one called Ted joked that they seemed to be making it public right now. Larry sat up tall in his chair, grinning, swelling his chest, replying that they sure were. His huge muscles strained the fabric of his shirt. He was enormous and Tucker couldn't believe his eyes. But he knew that they didn't mean just Larry when they talked about going public. He could barely move his arms, the back of his jacket pulled so snugly against his back and shoulders. It felt as though he were wearing a child's jacket and slacks. The sleeves were so tight with his arms relaxed, that he couldn't bend them without the material straining like a leather restraint belt. The top several buttons on his shirt, over his chest, were pulling, straining, about to pop. Tucker was filled with a confusion of emotions. He wished he were any place but a public restaurant. He could no more hide what was happening to his body than Larry could. He knew he must be starting to look ridiculous in his clothes. People around the restaurant were looking at them, commenting in whispers to each other. But he also felt a certain envy at how Larry seemed to be inviting the stares, how he not only didn't seem to care, but looked proud to display his transformation, his increasingly massive size. Oddly, he realized, he sort of felt that way, too. He felt like some deeply hidden desire, some drive he had never acknowledged, was being forced into his reality, and he had no choice but to accept and embrace it. There was no sense fighting what was happening, since it was happening for all to see. A growing sense of enjoyment, an intense, profound, erotic satisfaction crept through his consciousness as he began to admit to himself how hot he felt, his muscles growing big and hard, becoming like those of a real bodybuilder. Tucker reached for his coffee, and felt the seam down the side of the jacket under his arm, where his lats were swelling beyond the jacket's capacity to hold them, start to rip open. When he bent his arm to lift the cup, the seam down the back of the sleeve also began to give way with a tearing of the threads. If he didn't get out of the jacket right now, he would be treating the other diners, who were already watching, to the sight of his clothes splitting open before their eyes. He asked one of the men to help him get out of the jacket. He struggled his arms out of their confines, and when he twisted to hang the jacket on the back of the chair, the second button of his shirt gave in to the strain of his mounding pecs and popped off. He had to loosen his tie more, and since it was obvious to him that the other buttons over his pecs would soon give way as well, he unbuttoned them down to below his chest, where his lats angled in to his hard, slender abdomen, and the buttons had room to hold. The shirt spread itself open over his pecs, the tie covering only part of his exposed chest. He saw the thickness of his pecs dive into a deep crease of cleavage, dark hair covering the skin. His dick reflexed against his groin with the sudden thrill of what he saw. He could no longer deny that he was extremely turned on by what was happening to him. He felt wave after wave of intense erotic stimulation flood his body and his brain. He had never felt so horny in his life, so hot, so sexy, with a totally new, powerful sensation of maleness. This was making him feel deeply, intensely masculine in a way so overpowering that he had never imagined possible. He was beginning to understand Larry's pride. How could he have thought that being massive and freaky would be weird and embarrassing. He wondered briefly what his girlfriend would think if she could see him now, but he realized he didn't really care. He wanted to feel another person touching his muscles, but it wasn't his girlfriend. He looked across the table at Larry. His account executive was saying to the two clients that it looked like both he and his boss were about to grow out of their clothes, and that they should probably be getting out of here and going to someplace more private while they completed their transformations. Tucker stared at Larry, and he realized that the sight of his friend's massive muscles almost exploding inside his shirt was making his cock throb. He had never felt the slightest sexual attraction for another man before, but now, when Larry said they should get to someplace more private, his mind flooded with images of Larry taking off his clothes, of seeing all of his incredible body, of touching it, feeling those massive muscles. What would the hair on his body look like? How big would his cock and his balls be? And what about his own? He couldn't wait to see what he looked like, too, to see himself packed with muscle, hairy, amazingly hung. The thought of them naked, together, made him so much hornier he thought he might come, uncontrollably, right there in the restaurant. His hand reached under the table again to feel his crotch, and he realized that his cock, jerking with his erotic thoughts, rock hard and straining the material of his slacks, now extended past his hip bone and felt thicker than a giant cucumber. It was growing bigger still. How could he get up and leave? The other two said that Larry was probably right. They would pick up the check and get in touch later. They said everyone would have a clearer picture of just what they would be marketing and how to use Larry and Tucker as spokesmen for the product. If respected advertising executives could transform themselves and enjoy their new look, why not the average Joe on the street. Go home, they said, enjoy the rest, and call tomorrow when it's all finished. Tucker held his jacket in front of himself as they left the restaurant. Walking was a revelation. He could feel the size of his ass in his slacks, the mass of his legs. His slacks were tight as skin. His thighs not only rubbed together, they forced his legs to move around each other with each step, the way he had seen bodybuilders walk. He could feel the material of his shirt stretched so tight across his back that his lats felt pressed and crowded. The sleeves clung tight to the mass of his arms. He knew that the people in the restaurant must be watching them as they left. He certainly didn't look like this when he came in. But he didn't care now; he found it kind of exciting. Wait, he thought, till they went public about what those people had just witnessed. They decided, waiting for their cars, to go to Larry's place. It was close. Larry drove ahead and Tucker followed in his Jag. On the way over, to his shock and growing excitement, Tucker felt the seam in the back of his slacks and on the legs start to split open. For one brief second, he thought about his suit being ruined, but he realized he would never be able to get into it again, and his uncontrollable arousal only increased with the idea that he was growing so big so fast as to rend the fabric of his old image. His shirt sleeves had become uncomfortably tight, and he bent first one arm, then the other, flexing his biceps until the sleeves burst, ripping open and exposing the massive peaks of his hard, swelling guns. Oh, yeah, he thought. This was too hot. He flexed his lats and felt the sides and back of his shirt rip open. It was as though he was being released, his muscles unbound. His lats felt so thick and wide under his arms, and his arms felt so dense and huge resting on the swelling, hard cushions of his lats. He looked down at his chest, pulled off his tie, felt his pecs with one hand. They were becoming absolutely huge now. The front of his unbuttoned shirt had pulled apart even more to expose a broad expanse of his bare chest. The plates of his pecs were becoming so thick that the crease of cleavage between them could swallow his fingers up to the second knuckles. And they were becoming truly hairy. Just the kind of hair, if he had grown up with body hair, that he would have wanted to have. It had become much denser since his trip to the bathroom, but it still was not too long, and it lay flat on his skin, silky and dark. He ran his hand under his shirt feeling how the hair grew all the way over to the broad sides of his pecs and down to the deeply overlapping cuts beneath them. His pecs were growing, not just massively thick, but broad and square, and they were almost totally covered with hair. His dick was throbbing inside what was left of his slacks, and a dark, wet spot of precum was growing by its enormous head. He let his hand continue to feel the hair that was growing down his abs. They were dense and hard as bricks, and their ridges and valleys were growing more extreme, harder, deeper, and the hair that converged down their center felt unbearably hot. With a reflex that never passed through his conscious mind, he grabbed his shirt, which had remained buttoned and intact where his waist was still tight and small, and he yanked it open, popping the buttons off, tearing it out of the waistbandof his slacks so he could see more of his hard, increasingly sexy hairy stomach. Between the awesome growth of his muscles and body hair, he felt an unexpected sensation, a deep, intense, overwhelming explosion of masculinity, a powerful building of raw erotic animal maleness. He was about to pull open his slacks, to grab his cock and bring himself to the relief that he felt himself relentlessly building toward. He was so hot he had to come. He had to come NOW. But just then Larry pulled into a driveway and into his garage. Tucker followed. Larry jumped out of his car and came around to Tucker. His own clothes, while still intact, were straining to the point of giving way. He was unbuttoning his shirt. He opened Tucker's door, saying he had to get out of his clothes, and he laughed when he saw how far out of his Tucker already was. Tucker followed Larry inside. By the time he had reached the living room, he was out of his shirt and had undone his pants. Tucker followed suit, getting out of his own shirt and undoing his belt and zipper. He didn't even care that his cock was hard and huge and obvious for Larry to see. So was Larry's, now, and he didn't seem to give a fuck. Larry had Tucker help him pull off his pants, the thighs were so tight. His bikini underwear came off with them. He jumped to his feet, spread his arms and legs, then flexed every muscle on his body as he moved slowly and deliberately into a double biceps, enjoying the freedom of his gigantic muscles being released from the restrictions of his clothes. His cock projected straight out from the dense big bush of his pubic hair, thicker than his wrist, and longer than his forearm. His balls hung almost halfway to his knees and looked the size of large oranges. His arms, his legs, his pecs, his abs, and his groin were covered with short, silky, dense hair that swirled and plunged in patterns that emphasized the size and shape of his body, his muscles, his exaggerated male equipment. Tucker looked in awe. Was this what would happen to him? Larry was bigger that any professional bodybuilder Tucker had ever seen. Noticeably bigger. Everything about him was insanely massive. Somewhere deep in his brain a faint thought of panic, or fear, or possible regret flitted by, but it was fast submerged in an tsunami of deep, intense, profoundly erotic arousal. He had never seen anything that turned him on so much as the sight of Larry and the thought that the same thing was happening to him. With a few violent rips and tugs, and some help from Larry, Tucker released himself from what was left of his clothes. in front of a full length mirror in Larry's bathroom, he saw the mind-blowing sight of his own reflection for the first time. He was magnificent. With Larry standing beside him, he could see how much farther he had to grow before he would be done. His mind reeled. He was big like the bodybuilders that he never let himself think about becoming. It wouldn't have been the right thing for a big ad exec. The thought made him laugh. And now he was that big, and he didn't give a fuck if people thought it was strange. Not only that big, but he had body hair that looked like a porno illustration. Where the line of hair had disappeared into his pants, now he saw it continue, spread thicker, and merge with his pubes which had spread on his groin, a major thick, dark tangle of luxuriant growth. It grew up his belly to where he knew that anything low cut that he wore would show groin hair. It spread out onto his upper thighs and joined uninterrupted with the hair that covered his massive legs. And from that sexy bush hung a pair of balls the size of lemons surmounted by his rod, a stiff, jerking, throbbing rod of veiny flesh at least a foot in length and so thick he could barely get his hand around it. He grabbed it hard with one hand while he stroked his unbelievably hot bod with the other, across his full, gorgeous, hairy tits, and down the furry peaks and valleys of his abs. Next to him, he saw Larry grab his own cock with both hands. He saw how Larry had to reach around his humongous pecs to get hold of his dick, how it made his pecs mound up with insanely thick mass. He noticed the beyond-human flare of Larry's back, the wide-spread stance of his tree trunk legs. He thought how much hotter Larry looked with his even more perfect, outrageous body hair, and the size of his equipment. He was out of control with the thrill of what he saw and what was happening. He couldn't wait to get like Larry. He couldn't wait. And suddenly, without a stroke, his groin exploded with the start of an orgasm that radiated through his body, contacting him into a total body spasm that traveled back into his groin, down the length of his wonderful cock and finally rocketed him into space, a space he never even imagined possible. He thought his joints would fly apart as he shot volley after volley of hot, thick cream, jerking with ecstasy as it hit the mirror so hard it splashed all over him and Larry. And it just kept coming, and coming, pumping up from some place so deep he didn't know it existed. It hit him in the face and all over his chest and stomach. He saw it hitting Larry, matting the hair on his gargantuan chest, plastering it down as it ran down his abs. Finally, after what must have been more than a minute of full ejaculation, it slowed and stopped. Larry was laughing, rubbing the cum into his hair, massaging his tits with its slippery lubrication. Tucker did the same, taking his lead from the hunk beside him. He felt so good, his body felt so good under his hands. His cock was still hard, still, to his amazement, throbbing, wanting more sex. Then Larry reached for him, pulled him over, and began to massage the sticky fluid into his pecs and all the way down his abs. As soon as Larry touched him, he knew he had waited his whole life for this. He sucked in his breath and Larry leaned forward and placed his mouth on Tucker's. The feel of a firm mouth surrounded by stiff, scratchy whiskers made him suck his breath in again, almost to the point of fainting with passion, and he felt Larry's tongue press in to explore. He let himself lean hard into Larry's body to hold himself up, felt his pecs press against the hard, enormous mass of Larry's. He felt Larry's huge cock find his abs and start to work up them as they moved closer together. Then his own cock touched Larry's pubic hair and the base of his dick. Larry pulled him closer until both their cocks were pressed between their rock hard bellies, rubbing against each other, stimulated by the hair on their bellies. Tucker felt almost weak, swept into a tide of erotic, male passion. Larry kissed him hard, moving from his mouth and pressing his lips and tongue into the soft flesh under Tucker's jaw line, his chin, sucking on the cleft in his chin, working it with his tongue, then down his throat to his chest, where he buried his face in Tucker chest hair, licking deep into his cleavage and cuts, sucking and nipping at his nipples. He grabbed Tucker's hard, round butt and pulled him closer still, pushing their groins hard together. Then, before Tucker knew what was happening, Larry had wet his fingers with Tucker's spunk and was working it between his buns and into his asshole. Tucker realized what Larry intended to do, and there was no way he could make himself want to stop him. He was so hot and so horny that he wanted more of everything, wanted to do, to know everything that could be done with and to the male body. He worked on Larry's pecs, massaged them hard, pressed the heels of his palms into their dense mass, lifting their incredible weight. He couldn't believe his own would soon be this massive, and he couldn't wait to feel it on himself. Larry turned him around, reached under his arms, around his lats, and grabbed his pecs to pull him close from behind. Tucker felt the head of Larry's cock against his butt, pushing between his buns, separating them with its fist-sized head. He was so hot he didn't care how much it hurt; he wanted to feel Larry deep inside him. Larry was telling him how hot he was getting , how big. He told Tucker to flex for him, and Tucker felt hot and powerful as he raised his arms in a double biceps. His arms were getting huge. He looked in disbelief at the size of his biceps, how they peaked. He heard Tucker saying what great fucking arms, what great fucking tits, as he massaged his pecs harder. And then, with a slow, deliberate thrust, Larrywas inside him. He slid the entire length of his cock in, slowly, filling him, deeper, deeper, until Tucker felt himself stop against the dense hair and hard flesh of Larry's groin. He closed his eyes and a groan escaped his lips. Larry held him there for a minute, not moving, just pressing himself hard into Tucker. Tucker felt the fullness of Larry in him. Then Larry slowly moved his hands down Tucker's torso, across his swelling, growing muscles, until he had taken Tucker's cock in his hands. As he slowly began to stroke the length of Tucker's cock, he withdrew himself and pressed himself back inside Tucker in the same rhythm. He gradually increased his tempo, withdrawing himself slightly more each time, until he was pulling out past the rim of his cockhead, feeling the flaring edge pop out and back in again, slamming Tucker's hard ass each time he rammed himself in to its full length. Tucker felt the heat increase until he felt white hot. His moans became open mouthed groans, increasing in volume and intensity with Larry's pounding rhythm. He felt Larry's breath, hot against his neck. He was nearing orgasm. He could feel it building in him until he felt himself rocked by another nuclear explosion, like before but stronger, squeezing him to the center of his cells, his body alive with pulsing, shocking, jolting sexual electricity. And as he watched thick streams of white cream jet out of his cockhead he felt Larry inside him jerking hard, convulsing with his own release, filling him with hot juice. He felt himself fill up until Larry's cum was leaking out and running down his butt and dripping off his balls. When their convulsions finally subsided, they both collapsed on the floor in the pools of their cum, laughing, rubbing handsful of it onto each other, plastering down their hair, slipping and sliding their hands over each other's incredible muscles. Larry suggested a swim in the pool, and they went out to his patio. Tucker felt magnificent. He could feel himself still steadily swelling bigger, harder, denser, his body hair filling in, his dick and balls growing more and more like Larry's. Then, suddenly, he felt his muscles start to cramp. Deep in his bowels, where he had taken Larry's load, he felt heat building and radiating. It felt kind of good, kind of sexy, but it also felt strange. He felt his muscles draw into themselves in a deep, but not a painful cramp, and then relax for a second or two, and then draw up again, almost like mild convulsions. He told Larry how he felt, and he went to the side of the pool where he could stand and lean against something for support. He laughed at himself for reacting, but the feeling of convulsing grew stronger, even though he was not outwardly convulsing. He looked at Larry watching him, and he saw amazement, maybe fear in his friend's eyes. And then he knew what was happening. Somehow, taking Larry's cum must have increased the activity of whatever was causing his transformation. The rate had increased. He was growing so fast he could see it, and so could Larry. He could feel it. Suddenly he was on a rocket. He could feel his arms getting thicker and heavier, even as his lats flared and pushed them out, up. His pecs were ballooning inside his skin, broader, thicker. They were growing so big so fast he thought his skin would split. He could hardly see over them. He could feel his butt, where he was leaning, growing bigger, thicker, harder, literally pushing away from the side of the pool. His thighs pushed away from each other as they grew bigger and bigger, until he had to bend his knees to stand. His cock throbbed, reaching a spontaneous orgasm again, spraying his cream into the pool. He heard himself saying Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God! over and over again. And his orgasm didn't stop; he just kept shooting spurt after spurt, and his cock kept growing, bigger than Larry's. He could feel the weight of his balls against his thighs, almost to his knees. He had to see. It was hard to get his arms around the mass of his torso to reach them, but he lifted them and they were bigger than Larry's, too. They were the size of softballs. He wished he could get to a mirror. He knew he was bigger than Larry all over, and he was still swelling, exploding with mass. Christ! This was incredible! Would he be able to walk? Did he care? Larry was voicing his amazement. As Tucker continued to grow, his mass swelling, adding to itself, his orgasm going on and on, Larry could see that Tucker was lost in the sensations of what was taking place. No wonder. He could tell that Tucker was in a place beyond ecstasy, that he was flying on an orgasmic rocket. His traps threatened to engulf his head and his delts surpassed the size of bowling balls. Larry wanted him, wanted his muscle, his unbelievable display of manhood. Tucker seemed not to be able to stop feeling his own muscle as it grew thicker and denser. Larry stepped up to him and began to join his monster friend in feeling, massaging the gigantic boulders of hairy muscle hanging on his incredibly broad and growing chest. He grabbed the throbbing, spraying cock. There was no way he could get his hand around it and it had to be over two feet long now. He heard Tucker breathlessly crying for him to take it, take it. He held the gigantic head to his face, then licked around the spouting slit. His lust and hunger overtook him, and he drank as much of Tucker's cum as he could, and when he was full and still crazy with desire, he turned and positioned himself asshole to cockhead and began to push back onto Tucker's rod. As soon as he made contact, he felt Tucker grab his waist and thrust hard. He was sure he screamed. It felt like he was being impaled on someone's leg, but his lust was so intense that the very size of the gigantic tool inside him was driving to the heart of his insatiable need for more. Tucker was still pouring cum out of his cock, and he held Larry tight against him as he flooded his gut. Even when Larry had been filled to the point that he could feel his belly distending and cum running out of him and down his legs, Tucker held him hard against him. The more Larry felt filling inside him, the more he wanted it. There was no way he could get enough. Until he began to feel the heat in his own belly and the convulsing in his muscles begin. Tucker could barely catch a breath from the relentless orgasm he was having. It didn't seem to matter how much he came. He just felt himself getting more and more turned on, hornier, constantly more erotically charged. Even as he pumped a steady stream of his juice into Larry he could feel himself growing bigger, thicker, heavier. He was so in love with the feeling of his muscles growing so much more massive so fast that there was no way now that he could have enough of the feeling, no way he could ever get big enough. It seemed like the juice he had taken from Larry was even more concentrated in its effect than the original dose he had been given. It was incredible. If only he could get more. And then, when he saw Larry, still impaled on his churning cock, begin so show the signs of convulsing, he knew that they were each producing a more concentrated version of the formula by its very action within them. No wonder it was such an intense sexual sensation and experience. The whole thing was sexual in its most basic nature. The muscles, the body hair, the amazing growth of their genitals, all of it was the expression by the body of an unleashing of the deepest essence of physical male sexuality. Even as those thoughts were crowding in on his consciousness, he saw them confirmed. Larry began contracting, his already huge glutes squeezing Tucker's cock so hard he thought he might burst, if it didn't feel so good. Tucker saw, immediately, that Larry's lats and delts were swelling again. From his position behind him, Tucker couldn't believe how Larry's back began to flare like a cobra's hood, how his bowling ball delts began to look more like basketballs. He put his hands on Larry's butt to slide himself out, and he could feel the iron pulsing of those glutes swelling into larger boulders. When he pulled his cock out, he was shocked at how much it had grown inside his friend. He turned him around. Larry was grinning, his eyes rolling up into his head with the extreme ecstasy he was feeling. He could only keep saying how incredible he felt, how unbelievable this was. He was massaging his own pecs, feeling their hard, swelling contours, pressing the heels of his hands hard into their sides, pushing against them as he felt them pushing out, broadening, thickening. They were beyond enormous. His arms were so huge it was difficult to bent them very far before his forearms were stopped by the ham-like biceps bursting on his upper arms. His lats had pushed them above forty-five degrees. His thighs forced his legs farther apart even though his quads firmly pressed against each other almost to his knees, to where his balls rested now, two very large grapefruits churning with his sex. His cock projected straight out from his increasingly hairy groin, more than two feet of thick, veiny manhood, and as his cries of ecstasy increased, he began to shoot, just like Tucker. Now both of them were standing in the pool, Tucker bigger than the biggest bodybuilder, and Larry bigger than him by half, both of them still swelling, and both of them shooting non-stop volleys of heavy cream. They laughed and they moaned with constant, growing erotic animal pleasure. They shot all over each other. They rubbed the slippery cum into the hair that was still growing thicker on each other's torsos, enjoying the feel of their mass, their deep cuts, the mounds and boulders of harder, denser, bigger muscles. After a few more minutes, when Tucker saw how enormous Larry was becoming, still swelling, veins popping all over his body, his skin thinner and thinner as the muscle beneath stretched it like tissue, He realized that Larry's growth was even more extreme than his after he had taken a belly full of Larry's juice. So the combination of the original dose plus Larry's cum had magnified the strength of the process in him, and what he gave to Larry had been that much stronger. That meant that what Larry was shooting out of his cock now would probably be stronger still by that much more concentration. He looked at Larry's cock, which was like the thick end of a baseball bat and nearly a yard long, he guessed. Could he take it? He wanted to. He wanted it bad. He playfully forced it down below the water, feeling how it was so stiff that it felt spring-loaded, and let it go. It sprang up, to their delight, with a thwack hitting Larry in the face. Tucker reached up, took its frighteningly huge head and brought it down as he turned around to his own huge, hard bubble butt. He pushed back onto it, felt it stretch him until he thought his flesh would tear. But something about this transformation also seemed to increase his capacity to open and accommodate such a tool, because he felt Larry's hands on his waist, then the pressure of his friend pulling his back as he thrust forward, and with a blinding flash of hot, erotic pain, he felt himself fill with Larry's hot flesh. He could feel the juice pumping into him. It was so hot that he tried to stand still and just experience the sensation. His own cock was still ejaculating. He had been ejaculating for at least an hour, and he couldn't believe he wasn't exhausted, but the intensity of the orgasm kept growing stronger and energizing him. He would let Larry fill him for as long as he could stand it. If he could, he would stay on this giant cock until he felt himself growing more, growing faster. The water in the pool was becoming cloudy with their cum. Tucker had no ideas how long he had stayed on Larry's cock. He remembered that when his arms were resting almost straight out to his sides and had grown bigger than a bodybuilder's legs, Larry had been forceful about having another turn himself. He vaguely remembered that they each took several more turns. He remembered that, no matter how big their cocks had grown, they seemed to be able to stretch to take them in, even when they were much too long to take more than half their lengths. He remembered, at one point, that they were going to get out of the pool and try to pose for each other, but they found that they were so heavy that it was almost impossible to balance themselves and stand up without the help of the buoyancy of the water. So they had stayed in the pool. Their cocks grew too long to reach the throbbing, insistent cockheads themselves, but that was not problem since they couldn't get enough of doing it for each other. They didn't give a fuck about the consequences when they realized their dicks extended over their heads; it was just too fucking hot having such gigantic cocks. They completely lost any sense of time as the night wore on and they took turns impregnating each other with stronger and stronger doses of the growth factor, and getting more and more lost in the intensity of the erotic sensations of their growing mass. They never even heard Larry's phone ring, late the next morning, when they hadn't shown up at the office. About ten o'clock, Sean Gallagher came to check. The new potential clients had shown up for a nine o'clock appointment. Sean had first checked at Tucker's house and found no one home. So he came to Larry's. He found them in the pool. Sean was in shock at what he saw. He had talked to Larry about the new product, and had known more than Tucker about what these guys were up to. He had even been kind of excited to see how it worked on Larry, because, deep, secret truth be known, he had always wanted to have a body like a bodybuilder without having to do all the work to get it. But in his wildest imaginings, he had never conceived of anything like what he saw that morning. The two of them were oblivious to him when he walked onto the patio. They were facing each other, leaning against the side of the pool for support. They stood there, the two most grotesquely, monstrously muscular men ever conceived in the brain of the most obsessed muscle freak, massaging, caressing, feeling each other's bodies, lost in the sensations. Projecting from the groin of each of them, resting on the shoulder of the other like a pair of crossed swords, lay their cocks, projecting above and beyond their heads, spurting thick, heavy cream like fountains into the water. Sean didn't know what to do. He was terrified. He called their names. When they finally took notice of him, they said he would have to help them out of the pool. They obviously wouldn't be getting dressed and coming into the office. Sean noticed they weren't at all upset about the freaks they had become. He didn't know what to do about getting them out of the pool, since he was wearing his suit. Tucker told him to just take his clothes off. He'd need to take a fast shower anyway, since the pool water was a swamp of milky juice, a layer almost coagulated on the surface. Sean was mildly disgusted by the prospect, but he couldn't leave them there, so he laid his clothes neatly on a chaise. He also felt a little, dark thrill at the sight of these two hairy muscle monsters with their monster dicks. As he tried to help them move out of the water, they got him laughing at the difficulty of maneuvering such mass. He was immediately slippery, too, with the juice surrounding him. They slid around, Sean having to grab their immense muscles as he tried to help them balance. It was impossible to stay out of the way of the fountains of spunk that were still spurting into the pool. He was soon so covered, in his flailing attempts, that he had to accept getting some in his mouth. He didn't swallow much, but the concentration level had increased so much that it didn't take very much before he felt a strange heat in his belly. To be continued....

This is the original part 7 for you guys. It will still follow the path from the original parts 1-6 so dont worry, it's all still connected. The rest will be posted in the following weeks for you guy who still like the original parts. Part 1: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1556-my-dad-is-a-big-boy-re-post/ Part 2: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1560-my-dads-boy-is-a-big-boy/ Part 3: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1569-my-dads-boy-is-a-man/ Part 4: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1595-my-dad-is-a-secret-holder/ Part 5: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1596-my-dad-is-a-cum-fountain/ Part 6: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1606-my-dad-is-a-room-wrecker/ My skin burned as I was wrapped in a never ending bath of muscle and hair that sent warmth through ever body part. I could imagine it all happening from a bird's eye view as I lay pinned by my giant dad. His arms were placed on either side of me and the wide bed, his biceps and triceps bulging on either side of the mattress as he lowered his body, battling his forearms for space. Every other second I wasn't rubbing up against a muscle, he would kiss a body part, sending electricity into me. "Fuck..." I hissed as my cock smacked into what had to be a very low ceiling of man. Like a running faucet, I could feel myself leak pre when Dad leaned into my ear and whispered to me. " I can't control it anymore" he growled into my ear as he continued his barrage of kisses and rubs. I gave in the moment I heard him say those words. I moved over his body uncontrollably, licking him in random and hot places that seemed to flex themselves from my touches. The tables slowly turned as dad began to lean back on the bed, causing it to sink as his weight was transferred into one place. The wood in the bed frame chipped as dad's now enlarged body sat on the back of his feet, his knees spread wide and his bulge in clear view, jumping every so often as if it wanted to grow but was waiting for something. I guessed quickly as I followed dad's 15 foot body to the other side of the bed. With a kind of desperation, I quickly kissed his legs, feeling the hard quads flex and bulge. Each one was potentially bigger than all of my 230 pound body put together and probably 10 times denser as they bulged with their three headed perfection. Quickly enough, I made it to dad's abs and I couldn't help licking the set of steel up and down with an eager tongue. It seemed almost as if his midsection was so big that it spread for miles vertically and horizontally. The apollo's belt of his wait was perfect in every way, pulling in all the enormity of such a man to one place. This was extremely futile and a sea of muscle welcomed me. Obliques the size of bars of soap awaited my arrival, each one looking extremely tight and fastened into the giant my dad was. At this point, I was standing as I tried to continue going up my dad. He was so tall standing up that, even on his knees, his torso raised him more than 7 feet tall, making him taller than me even as he sat. His amazing height was the last thing on my mind before I felt my head bump into what felt like the ceiling. I raised my attention up to the cause and my mouth began to water as I saw two of the most hulking, meaty pecs hover above me. Clearly, they were far from dad's rib cage but that wasn't the only amazing thing about them. Each one was spread far and in opposite directions, making it truly appear as if a wall of hairy muscle was spread before me. Each pec was capped with the most succulent nipple on each side that seemed to drop and appeared ready to be sucked and tortured by someone's mouth. For a few seconds, that someone was me as my tongue touched one nipple and licked around it. I was lost in the muscle as dad flexed two boulder biceps that looked so big, they could eat me and still have room for a the main course. Each bicep peak soared high as they were flexed, angry veins appearing on each as the muscle swelled with blood. I found myself grabbing hold of one of dad's massive arms and licking it with all my might. I could feel myself fire another small stream of jizz as I rode the bicep. This was potentially the most amazing moment of my life as I licked and licked all over my dad's upper body. Suddenly, an enormous vein grew on dad's arm and the muscle began to shake. My dad's skin turned red as though he had come from the beach and had experienced a terrible skin burn. "Fuck, not now..." he groaned as dad's flexing seemed to be unstoppable. Dad stood and I held on as the floor became very far away from me. I had no time to enjoy the view as I heard dad groan as if he were experiencing pleasure and pain at the same time. " It hurts!" he roared as his eyes seemed to be glaring off in space, their blue intensity piercing into all who dared look into them. I knew almost instantly Medusa would look into those eyes and be the one to turn to stone from such a powerful and manly stare. I felt cock fire a load as I looked into those eyes. Dad caught this and smiled a pained smile. " Don't tire out just yet, Squirt. It's only just getting to the good part" Dad roared as suddenly every muscle in his body flexed harder than I imagined were possible. Muscle and veins were decorated across the giant as though they believed they could make such a body more perfect with more blood. It was truly a scene that could make you fire a dozen loads just from standing in front of such an amazing sight. At first, I didn't catch it. It only came in very small intervals as my eyes trained on the muscle fibers of the bicep I was hugging. Still, I saw it as the muscle almost seemed to swell before me. I trained my eyes on it, unblinking before I saw the muscle jump again. I felt my cock painfully harden as I knew what was coming next. My dad was growing! I watched with amazement as the bicep I held seemed to puff up and make it harder for me to get a hold of such a big muscle. The muscles beneath me only seemed to become harder as I felt the undentable muscle seemed to push against me and press more powerfully into every body part. I watched as my dad's massive shoulders only seemed to get bigger and bigger in front of me as though they were being pumped with air. His neck seemed to thicken along with him and I looked on, dumbfounded, as I watched my dad's head also grow too, keeping up with the rest of him. In the beginning, I thought that there was no way the two massive pecs I'd licked could possibly get any bigger. Now, I knew that was a foolish thing to think as the two creatures jumped and then swelled outward, puffing out like a swelling loaf of bread that had been mixed with A LOT of yeast. I found myself to be a really infatuated pec man as I watched the two plates seemed to thicken and grow, becoming farther away from me as the swelling bicep I hugged grew longer as well as thicker, elongating the arm and amplifying what made dad's body so hot. I couldn't help but drool as my attention lowered to the rest of my enormous dad. His wall of perfect abs looked like you could swing a metal bat into it and you'd only send vibrations through the bat as it reacted to hitting such a hard wall. Each one appeared to be perfectly segmented on his body and divided among the rest in a perfect 8 pack. I could almost tell that all this brawn upstairs was causing dad's skin to thin itself out from so much being stuffed into it. The enormity of the situation truly set in as I saw the most massive bulge in a pair of weakening briefs. Clearly, dad had used these undergarments because they were one of his last fitting pairs. The manhood hiding inside appeared to be outgrowing its incredible shrinking prison. Two hairy cannonballs that had to be filled to the brim with cum were bulging out of the leg holes of the garment as the shaft of the giant seemed to push the briefs forward and cause them to strain in order to contain everything at once. I watched as a tear formed in the hem of the underwear, the muscle beneath clearly becoming too much for such a pathetic man made invention. Dad's ever growing cock quickly joined the fun as it began to harden and mix its growth with a pump of blood. My lips actually became dry as I watched the massive manhood grow at an unbelievable speed, Outgrowing the width of my chest and my height, quickly running past that and refusing to slow down as it began to attempt outgrowing Jeff. The shaft began to thicken as the extra stretchy briefs continued to tear. I could tell almost instantly that you could put furniture on that enormous weapon and you'd find no need to have to balance it. Simple place a sofa on the cock and it would have more than enough room to sit firmly. As the manhood was growing and reaching god proportions, I watched as two quads came into view on both sides, growing as if they were trying to still be seen behind the massive growing ball sack sitting on top of them. Each one appeared to be covered in veins as they held such a massive body up with their brawn. With ton after ton of muscle being piled onto them, they must have known they'd have to grow bigger and stronger to keep up with everything else. Each one looked as if it could withstand the weight of a building and still ask for more! The segmented heads in each one swelled, accentuating each individual part and making them all look even better as a group. I looked down further and caught his calves just in time to see each one grow a vein and harden remarkably. Who needed a football when you could use one of dad's calves. Of course, even then, you wouldn't be able to throw something so big and heavy in the first place as it appeared to be far past the size of my torso. I gasped at the size of dad's feet way way below. Even from here, I could tell that each one could have been close to being able to hide a big screen tv underneath even from my perch above. Yet they still continued to grow bigger. Just as I was nearly hypnotized by the lengthening feet down below, I was brought back to a cock worthy of a giant god. With a loud SSSNAP and POP, the longest and biggest cock of all time was set free from the feeble confines that had been holding it down. A massive hand wrapped around my torso and I was lifted up and off the bicep I was lying on before I was introduced to the largest, still growing cock there was. "Help.... me.....John" Dad said through pained groans as his body continued to swell. I could tell that he was pain and that, somehow, his cock being hard was the cause of some of it. Of course, I still grabbed hold for much more selfish reasons. With the biggest man-bush to rest on, I got to work on the giant member before me. It's length far surpassed me as it seemed to be trying to stretch into the sky. For a moment, I could tell it had reached 8 feet in height but then it grew past that. Just eye balling, I could tell that it was beyond 9 feet in length and potentially 6 feet thick. It was like hugging a walrus! I was forced to use the bush and rod base beneath me as footing as I stood on the giant's crotch in an attempt to better wield Dad's weapon. "Fuck....." I heard someone above me say as I continued to rub the pole up and down with my body. I could feel it tighten as it swelled, clearly now at full erection and quickly reaching climax. Clear liquid was leaking from the high tip and falling like an erotic river down to the floor, creating a kind of puddle. I was too busy rubbing the god weapon to appreciate what was happening around me. The floor was creaking as it tried to contain all of the mass that was filling into its occupant. The bed had long been broken and was now too tiny to be stood upon by dad's large body. His legs were too big and too long! Now, each one stood on opposite sides of the bed like a married couple. "FUCK!!!" Dad roared as his head punched the ceiling and his growing cock began to leak like an open faucet. I was hot as I rubbed back and forth on the giant like the cock slave I knew I was. I was hypnotized by the size and power surrounding me that seemed to just get become more and more of those qualities I was growing to love. "I CANT HOLD IT ANY LONGER!!!" Dad roared with his deep and powerful voice. Like an oversized fire hose pumped by a faucet, dad's cock instantly thickened dramatically as it prepared to fire the biggest load of all time. Plaster fell from the ceiling as dad's ever expansive body just seemed to press harder and harder into it, his big head full of hair now matted against the vertical limit. "GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!" Dad roared as his cock shook with power and fired what had to be the biggest load of all time. White, thick liquid flew everywhere in a single direction like the perfect hose. The now cracked ceiling and floors now had matching walls as the room was slowly painted in white. Dad bellowed like a lion ruling his kingdom as he fired off endlessly, his growth seeming to accelerate as it all happened. " IT"S GETTING TOO STROOOOOONG!!!" he cried as he tried grab a hold of the uncontrollable weapon. For a moment, I was surrounded by so much growing muscle and cock that I took advantage of it to fire more cum without touching my cock. Just like the night before, my cock fire was nothing compared to the cock cannon I stood on. Cum filled the room at an incredible speed, quickly covering dad's feet and slowly raised past his ankles. The room was slowly sinking in a never ending cum sea that came straight from the most powerful cock on the planet. Still dad grew and grew, his big and full lats now pressing into the ceiling. I could tell he was in pain but the smile on his face was just amazingly hot, making my now spent cock sore. " SO FUCKING BIIIIG!" he roared as he let his cock go and raised his hands to the ceiling, his massive arms flexing with everyone movement. Next thing I knew, I was surrounded by pecs and biceps and a cock that were all so big I could almost see myself getting crushed between it all. Just when I thought the sex would never end, it all came to an abrupt stop. The room had been painted white just like dad's room and was now so full that, if I were to stand in it, my black body hair and skin would be bleached white from the neck down with thick, steaming cum. Dad stopped growing just as his upper back was pushed against the ceiling and his cock head was now defiantly in his face, still hard as steel and rigid as a telephone pole. I looked up at his face and he just smiled down at me with glowing eyes. " Is it alright for me to say I've gotten too big for my britches?" he asked with an even more powerful voice than before that seemed to make me leak pre just from its sound. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dad and I had trouble escaping the room as neither of us could get out without either drowning or tearing down a wall. Eventually, we decided tearing down a wall was much better than me drowning myself and getting Jeff for help. If only the NFL could have seen dad as he charged through the wall to my room like the perfect line back given super human strength and size by the gods. I had trouble finding clothes afterwards since they were all submerged in a pool of cum so I was given one of Jeff's smallest pairs of clothes. Of course, seeing as his smallest clothes were made for an 8 foot muscle giant, I had to wear them the same way one would wear covers. It was hot, against my better judgment, and I wanted it to continue but eventually, we found an old pair of clothes that belonged to Jeff before he went through his super growth spurt. It was pretty tight but it was originally made for someone who hadn't even broke the 200 pound mark. Dad said he needed some good eating so he and Jeff decided to go chow down on everything in the enormous kitchen that they could find (although a 25 foot giant is hard to feed and hard to bring around). Feeling like I needed to collect my thoughts, I asked dad if I could get a ride to a local bar but he was still stuffing himself with hundreds of pounds of meat that seemed to be endlessly piled yet still potentially not enough for someone so massive. Seeing that Dad was out of it, Jeff decided to give me the keys to his car and shooed me off. The car itself was actually really big. Coming from me, a guy who was 6'3 and a line backer, that was definitely really big. It took me only a short few minutes to find my way to the bar since I remembered where everything was but I still walked in unsurely as I parked. I stopped outside as I saw the most enormous motorcycle on its side beside the entrance. It looked bigger than the motorcycle I saw in Harry Potter. I dared to wonder whether or not it was a real bike but I kept moving anyway. When I entered the bar, I stopped in my tracks. Sitting right at the center of the many stools was the widest back and ass in the tightest leather pants I'd ever seen. Every big and burly muscle was amplified to the Holy Shit degree. I had trouble hiding a boner that had jumped up almost like lightning in my pants as I quickly ran next to him and sat in the stool beside him. I looked down and could see that his stool was struggling to hold him as it creaked from every flex his ass made on top of it. Each foot was wearing a giant boot big enough for me to put a leg into. His long legs were spread wide to the point his left leg was nearly on my chest. A muscle gut you could hide multiple bodies in was lying in front of the giant, pushing into the bar and making it also creak in protest. Pecs that pushed far and powerfully from the man's rib cage were pushed forward and look like they were just begging for someone to dare them to tear the white t shirt beneath and the leather jacket to shreds. Big arms that seemed to be far bigger than every muscle I could possibly have pushed taut against the leather jacket the man wore. High above, I could make out a shoulder so large and powerful looking, you could use it to shield yourself against bullets and be unharmed from head to toe. His hair appeared ashen gray and seemed as if it was in a hairstyle that was clearly made to stick straight up while still short and was doing a good job of staying that way. The man looked down at me through a mean looking pair of sun glasses and I could see over his massive torso that he owned a really manly and thick goatee. I could almost feel his eyes concentrating on me for only an instant before the bartender came over with a tall and wide beer mug that looked like you could eat cereal from it. He looked down at it and picked it up with a massive hand, the handle still too small for all his fingers to hold it. As if he were lifting a coffee mug, he lifted the drink and gulped it down in seconds, his massive adam's apple bouncing with each swallow. He slammed it down on the bar, making a big dent in the wood and cracking the mug, before he turned his stool to me. His long and thick legs surrounding me on both sides as he leaned down and looked into me, his upper body bulging and looking as if it would explode from the shirt and jacket. " Hey there, short stack" he said down to me in a voice that made me quiver. I came right in my pants and he could tell instantly. I went red as I tried to pretend it didn't happen. He hadn't stopped looking at me and took off his glasses. A pair of strong, electric blue eyes looked at me and seemed to be looking into my soul. I lost all attention as I looked into those eyes. " Hey.........sir" I said, trying to show respect for the big man as he looked down at me. When it seemed I would explode from the tension, the big man smiled and then laughed a big and hearty laugh that I felt in the deepest part of my being. " Don't call me sir, Shorty!" he said in the middle of his laughter. When he finally stopped cracking up, he looked back down at me with a smile. " Call me James" he said. I took this as a command as I sat in my chair feebly. A massive and heavy hand touched my shoulder and I looked up at the giant. " Is that anyway to talk to your big 'ol grandad?!" he said before laughing again. I was speechless.

I intended to add to the bullet-proof story before going on to something new, but this came together pretty quickly and was a lot of fun to execute. Hope readers find it enjoyable. ----------------- WHO IS CAPTAIN X? About six of the larger London newspapers continued to follow the controversy surrounding "the mighty Captain X" at least to some degree. But it was the little Sentinel-Observer that had broken the story, and that continued to beat the dying horse. Circulation had spiked when it first ran; it climbed for a week, then began to ebb. Letters to the editor continued to run in favor of the Captain, mostly from military men. The managing editor had a reporter looking for the Colonel and staking out the Mayfair digs of the Smith-Martyns, where it all began. Interest seemed to be slumping, but perhaps it could be renewed. Anything to keep the circulation up. "What are the newsies saying?" the editor, a usually grubby man who was looking exceptionally tidy today, asked his reporter. "It's only on a few of the boards," said the reporter, a man known as T.J. —T.J. Jones on his byline. Covering the mighty Captain X, he had shifted from society gossip to something more like a news beat. "I saw 'Captain X Scandal Drags On.' Right outside on Fleet Street." It had probably been years since the managing editor, Francis X. Nelson, had scrubbed the ink off his hands, but he had done so this morning for the most improbable of reasons: Mrs. Smith-Martyn, who started all the trouble for the mighty Captain X, had telephoned Mr. Nelson yesterday to request a meeting today. Tea at the Ritz, no less. "I appreciate the opportunity to discuss this with you, madam," Francis had told her, trying his best to keep the East End out of his mouth. "But do you really think that meeting in so public a venue is a good idea? I'm thinking only of your — " She had cut him off like a rugby player. "Mr. Nelson," she said, "you know perfectly well that wherever I go at the moment, I am being followed by journalists who hope I will betray the interests of either my husband or Captain X. Or both. But quite truthfully, I have nothing to hide. We could just as well meet on the stage of Covent Garden." And so the Ritz at 3:45 the following day was agreed upon. The whole affair, if that was the word, had started with a fund-raising evening that Mrs. Smith-Martyn had arranged to host at her home for the benefit of the boys who were off fighting the Hun in what was already being called a "world war." Most thought they would return after only a few months; some thought it would be a lark or a character-building adventure. They were confronted with unspeakable horrors that had already stretched on for over a year with no end in sight. The idea that a simple musicale with the presentation of some tableaux vivantes could cause controversy — indeed, that it could eclipse the suffering of the gallant boys in uniform — it was just too ridiculous. Still, that was what had happened. The Sentinel-Observer reported it as a society event on page eight along with two photographs of tableaux, one a Delacroix battle scene, and one captioned "The Farnese Hercules portrayed by a mighty captain in His Majesty's armed forces." Captain X appeared in both photographs, but in the Farnese Hercules he was the sole figure, shown in muscular glory but looking oddly despondent, bent over his club. He was draped in a sheet rather than a lion skin. "It was a last-minute choice that the Captain undertook as a particular favor to me," Mrs. Smith-Martyn told Mr. Nelson over their cream tea, which was handsomely arrayed, though neither was eating any pastry. "We had planned to do Delacroix's 'Liberty Leading the People,' but there was some — difficulty — and in the end…" "The figure of Liberty has her breasts exposed in that painting, does she not?" asked Mr. Nelson. "That was one of the difficulties," said Mrs. Smith-Martyn."We thought we would just drape…but in the end…I must tell you, Mr. Nelson, that the evening ended in a spirit that was entirely honorable, and with a sense of accomplishment that everyone present felt was well-earned. The Captain was draped just as the figure in the actual sculpture is draped, though we did not have an animal skin at our disposal. If anything, the Captain is more impressive a figure than the original statue. Needless to say, I had never before seen the Captain's torso exposed before. Modest as that exposure was, as you saw. Just the shoulder and arms and one side of the chest. We cut the sheet above his knees to simulate…well, as I say, I had never seen him in that way before, but it certainly did not surprise me, nor would it have surprised anyone who had seen him in uniform. Nor was I surprised when this particular tableau made something of a sensation. Would it surprise you to learn that we earned more than ten thousand pounds on the strength of that tableau alone? Funds that will buy boots and medicine for young men who are in desperate need of both. And who have neither." The original story was on the table next to Mr. Nelson's teacup, and he was peering at the news photo of the Farnese Hercules tableau. "Most impressive," he said. "But surely you don't mean that these are the sinews of his actual body, and not some kind of padding?" "Mr. Nelson, we are not a theatrical troupe. We do not have elaborate resources of that kind. Special lighting, elaborate make-up, fancy costumes — no, no, a tableau vivant is about imagination and ingenuity, and the willingness to put one's self on display for a cause." That said, the body of Captain X was not like any that Mr. Nelson had ever seen; he had simply assumed it was augmented in some clever, artful way. Sandow's and Macfadden's only began to suggest such contours — the way the shoulder was capped with a sharply defined, round mass from which the arm emerged…and the arm itself was a series of round masses that seemed taut to the point of bursting. The heroes depicted in Greek and Roman statuary were nothing compared with this man. And yet, while his arms appeared larger and more powerful than those of the Farnese Hercules, his torso tapered in a way that also projected power; 'fighting trim,' one could call it. Was it artificial, exaggerated, or wasn't it? At first it appeared grotesque, but then it seemed beautiful. How strange that he was posed to stare at the ground in so melancholy a way, with his shoulders slumped and his head bent over. Imagine him standing up straight, with his shoulders back and proud! "May I ask how Mr. Smith-Martyn felt about the Captain's participation in your event?" asked Mr. Nelson. "How nice that we can be so frank with one another," Mrs. Smith-Martyn snarled. "My husband has always been an admirer and supporter of the Captain," she said, "and he remains so. That is his chief concern now, and it is mine. My husband has complete confidence in The Captain's honor. He has always behaved honorably and has sacrificed a great deal in service to the Crown. This — this scandal — is hardly the recompense he deserves." This, Mrs. Smith-Martyn claimed, was her motivation for the extreme measure of taking tea at the Ritz: the Captain's honor, rather than her own. She might have gotten further with another editor; it was not the Sentinel-Observer that was printing items of gossip linking her with "her friend, the mighty Captain X." These had spurred a growing tide of letters from soldiers who had served under the still anonymous captain, claiming they recognized him unmistakably from the photograph and describing superhuman feats they imputed to him. All respected his anonymity, and always there were the debunkers. Reports of his carrying wounded and dead soldiers for miles, two and three bodies at a time, were met with letters from angry retired brigadiers saying that such exploits — were they possible — would have exposed him and his men to needless risk. Most of all there was the outrage over the Captain permitting himself to be displayed in an undignified manner in not one but two tableaux vivantes. Such conduct was irreducibly feminine and "an insult to the British soldier," according to a retired lieutenant-colonel. But then, according to a retired brigadier general's angry response, the real insult was that a comfortably retired career soldier would question the honor one who, after demonstrating valor on the battlefield, volunteered his services for the benefit of his men even while on leave, and cut "an undeniably heroic figure" in which the nation could take justifiable pride. Two days later it was agreed that Mr. and Mrs. Smith-Martyn would bring Captain X to the offices of the Sentinel-Observer, but still keep his identity unrevealed. Mr. Nelson had an unrevealed plan of his own to revive the story: The hapless T.J. Jones would come along and make threatening gestures as if to accost Mrs. Smith-Martyn as she, her husband and the Captain were leaving the Observer's offices, whereupon the Mighty Captain might very well make to rescue her. If it were to develop into a police matter, that would probably force the Captain to identify himself. More often such ruses unfolded in ways that could not be anticipated, but that made for good copy nonetheless. The arrival of Captain X with the Smith-Martyns certainly supported the account Mr. Nelson had sat through at the Ritz. He was magnificent-looking in uniform, tall and broad-shouldered, in a belted jacket gusseted in back at the shoulders — it was probably the only way he could be fitted. It seemed that his arms might burst their sleeves. He conducted himself with military reserve; Mr. Smith-Martyn did most of the talking. But the three visitors sensed a certain pointlessness in their discussions with Mr. Nelson, who offered them nothing more than his assurance that the Sentinel-Observer bore no animus against the Captain and would be open to favorable coverage of him so long as it met the standards of newsworthiness…and so long as they actually knew who it was they were covering. The ruse was staged by the hapless T.J. Jones as the threesome left the building: Just as instructed, he confronted Mrs. Smith-Martyn and said "Madame, I believe that is mine," clamping his hand around her small handbag. Whereupon the Captain stepped in front of him and slapped him with the back of his right hand. Time slowed as they watched: the gesture seemed modest, but oddly, T.J. Jones's head snapped violently back and his body went skidding down the street as if a locomotive had rammed it. Mrs. Smith-Martyn rushed up to the crumpled Mr. Jones and said "Heavens, his neck must be broken!" Happily, she was wrong. They all enjoyed the hospitality of the police in separate quarters — Mr. and Mrs. Smith-Martyn in one room, Mssrs. Jones and Nelson in another, and the Captain by himself with a uniformed officer. The Smith-Martyns were sent home after about thirty seconds. Down the hall, the Captain looked sullen and defeated again, as he did when posing as the Farnese Hercules. "Are you the Mighty Captain X?" a uniformed officer asked him. "Is that fellow all right?" the Captain answered. "No thanks to you," said the officer. "He accosted my friend. I was only defending her." The officer unfolded what turned out to be page 8 from the Sentinel-Observer. "Is that you?" he asked. Perhaps there was no point in denying it. But he hadn't done anything wrong, so why should he answer? The problem with this police interrogation, aside from its being groundless, was that it was being met with the military answers of a prisoner of war, and getting nowhere. Finally the Captain was asked, "are you aware that this matter was what you might call a prank gone wrong?" The Captain said nothing at first, then asked, "May I go now?" His interrogator seemed to find this question difficult to answer, and simply ignored it. "Whose prank?" "It was the newspaper," the officer said. "We cooperate with them, and they cooperate with us. One hand washes the other. It's all about information. That's the way it works, innit?" "May I go now?" the Captain asked. "If you don't mind, I'll have to ask you to remove your jacket and your shirt," said the officer. "Why should I do that?" asked the Captain. The officer laid the article on the table in front of the Captain. "Because I'd like to see if that's you," he said. After a long silence he added, "I think it is." "I don't see why that should be a police matter," said the Captain. "A lot of people are very unhappy with what went on at the home of the Smith-Martyns," said the officer. "A lot of people want to know just who you are. It's all about the information, innit?" "I'll be going now," said the Captain. "I took the precaution of locking the door to this room," said the officer. The door was painted iron, spotty, with a barred window above eye-level. "You have no reason to detain me," said the Captain. "You cannot detain me." "Is that you? Are you Captain X?" "This has gotten so far out of hand," said the Captain. "It's too absurd. What possible difference could it make if I am or am not Captain X?" "Tell me! Are you Captain X!" It was too much. The captain stood, faced his interrogator across the table, and slowly disrobed — unbuttoning his jacket, then his shirt, then the vest underneath. His shoulders, chest and arms seemed to expand before the officer's eyes as they were liberated from the clothes that had concealed them. The sinews were packed onto his massive body, the chest and arms far larger and more severe than anything the officer could have imagined, the muscles of his abdomen so much more pronounced than on an ancient shield. Those images seemed childish by comparison. But when the Captain picked grasped his clothes and turned his back on the officer, that was even more fearsome — his back, with its curving ridges. The officer had never seen anything even suggesting such contours as those. "I'll be going now," said the Captain. "Cor," said the officer, as the Captain walked up to the door. The lock had a latch handle that did not yield at first, but the Captain broke it off without much effort. "Oh, hard luck, the lock broke," he declared. He tentatively punched what remained of the lock, then decided the better of it and gripped the door's barred window. His back and shoulders swelled proudly and he smiled as he easily shook the door off its hinges, then tossed it in onto the floor. "It feels good to do that," he said. "I'm so glad to be of service. That door needed replacing, as you can see. The hinges were compromised and the lock is defective." He slipped his shirt back on and headed into the hallway as the officer looked on, gaping. "You are Captain X," said the officer. The Captain turned back to face his interrogator. With his shirt only partway buttoned, the sinews of his chest were still intimidatingly in view. "I'm Captain Morris," he said. He didn't know if His Majesty's forces would look for him. But in America, they would never find him.

Hey everyone! I thought I'd give you guys a treat today with TWO chapters. Not one, but two. I'm really thankful for the response you guys have given the story so far. AND I'll still be posting the next chapter sometime this week. I hope you guys enjoy, and as always comments are appreciated (even bad ones!) Chapter One Chapter Two Hard Mountain - Chapter Three: The next morning my mind was still reeling from what I’d heard in the night. I couldn’t believe they had been having sex. Masturbation I might believe, despite how weird both them doing it together would be, but fucking each other? I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t hear any other other noises except for their voices, no thudding or creaking furniture, so it seemed a more plausible explanation. As I went downstairs, they were both in the kitchen in sweaty gym gear looking pumped. Jack was cooking while Danny was eating a breakfast of bacon, sausage and egg whites. Danny looked up as I entered, smiling. “Morning Sam, how’d you sleep?” asked Danny. “Uh, great, thanks,” I replied. Jack turned around with a skillet from the counter in hand as I took a seat at the breakfast bar, loading food onto a plate. “Hope we didn’t wake you earlier,” said Jack, putting the plate down in front of me. “E-earlier?” I stammered, trying not to blush. “Yeah, we get a little rowdy when we’re working out,” said Jack. “Oh! No, I didn’t even hear you get up,” I said, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief. Glad that they didn’t suspect I’d heard anything last night, I spent breakfast covertly observing the two of them. They acted like any other father and son, nothing suspicious at all in terms of body language. Nothing to suggest their relationship was anything other than familial. After breakfast, I helped Jack pack up our lunches (more meat and veg) while Danny packed up some gear for our adventure to the caves. As the morning went by I began to relax a little more. Jack walked ahead as Danny discussed all the upcoming Marvel films with me. He looked great in a tank and shorts, Jack was wearing something similar, and it complemented their great bodies. Sometimes I’d glance down at the ground to watch Danny’s calves bulge with each step, though at one point I wasn’t paying attention and tripped on a root. Danny caught me, luckily, saving me from embarrassment. The caves were amazing and pretty deep, and thankfully not too tricky to traverse. Though at one point I was having trouble climbing up a high part and Jack lifted me up like I weighed nothing, making my tight briefs even tighter at the show of strength. Eventually we came to a sizeable part of the cave with a small lake, dimly lit by a few beams of sunlight that had managed to get through. The air was cool which felt pleasant after walking in the hot sun all morning. Jack pulled a big lamp out of his bag for a little more light and settled down for lunch. Jack and Danny talked about some of the other times they’d gone exploring and I listened, enraptured. They had some great memories together and they were always funny. I even shared a few vacation stories of my own, including the time my sister managed to get lost in Paris and we found her a few streets away, eating ice cream with some French drag queens who’d been fussing over her like mother hens. “I’m gonna go for a swim,” said Danny once he’d eaten. “Anyone wanna join?” “No thanks, kid,” laughed Jack. “That water is gonna be freezing and I like my junk toasty.” Danny looked at me but I made a face, I wasn’t keen. “Suit yourself,” shrugged Danny. He shucked off his clothes, even his boxer briefs and walked to the water. My cock was desperately trying to escape my briefs at the sight of Danny’s naked back, his glutes and legs coiling and flexing with every step. It was like watching one of the ancient Greek statues in motion, and I found it hard to look away. “Not a skinny dipper?” asked Jack, bringing me back to reality. “Uh-um, n-no,” I stuttered. “I’ve never done it.” “Well there’s no shame in that,” said Jack. “I prefer going in the stream not far from the cabin because it’s warmer.” “Oh, cool,” I said. “I kind of want to, it’s just…” I looked down at myself, drawing my knees a little closer my underwhelming chest. As much as I drooled over the bigger men, I felt incredibly self-conscious about my own body. I avoided gyms because I felt like everyone would laugh at me. Danny had even offered to workout with me, give me pointers, but my anxieties made me feel like everyone would look at him, then look at me and then feel pitiful at how much smaller I was. I never tried because if I did and failed, I would feel weak. “Hey, Sammy,” said Jack, soothingly. “There’s no need to feel modest. We’re all guys here, nothing we haven’t seen before. No one’s gonna judge you.” I felt Jack’s big hand rub my back comfortingly and it felt nice. “Danny and me, we’re big guys,” said Jack. “It’s just how we are. But there’s no shame in being smaller or feeling awkward.” He smiled and it was infectious because I smiled back. I stood up and undressed, walking to the water’s edge. Danny was swimming about and I dipped my toe in the water. I cursed under my breath at the wave of cold that hit me. The water was freezing and I wanted to go back. “Just get in!” shouted Danny, who could see all of me fairly easily as my hands were tucked in my armpits. Luckily the cold had shrunk my boner. I took a deep breath and practically ran into the water. “FUCK!” I exclaimed as cold took over me. I waded further in and began swimming toward Danny as my body started to adjust. We started splashing each other, which soon became a game of grab ass. Jack watched from the shore, smiling. Our games in the water got very hands-on. Sometimes my hands would brush against his body and I’d feel the hard bulge of muscle pushing against Danny’s skin. Even with those brief touches, I marvelled at how solid Danny was. The water would just fall perfectly down his smooth body, manoeuvring through the ridges of every muscle group. Even just watching him breathe, his abdominal muscles contracting with every breath, was a beautiful sight. At one point Danny came up behind me and wrapped his body around mine to pull me under the water. I could feel his soft junk pressed against my ass and I fought every urge to get hard, to moan at the touch, feeling his hard muscles pushing against me as he held me tight. After a while we were both getting a little tired and we still had to get back so we made our way over to the shore. As we got closer and the water was only up to our calves, my foot suddenly slipped and I stumbled. I managed to grab Danny to stop myself from falling but my ankle was throbbing, pain shooting up my leg. “You okay?” asked Danny, a little panicked, his hands steadying me. “Ye-yeah I think so,” I said, wincing. I took another step but as soon as I put weight on my foot there was more pain and I couldn’t help but wince again. Within seconds Danny had scooped me up and was carrying me to the shore where Jack was now standing. “I think it’s his foot,” said Danny to Jack, his voice full of worry. Jack grabbed a towel from one of the bags and put it down so Danny could lay me on the ground. Danny looked incredibly worried but Jack kept an air of calm. “I don’t see any blood or cuts, which foot is it?” asked Jack. “My left, it’s my ankle,” I hissed. Jack took my ankle in his hands and gently squeezed, sending pain back up my leg. I managed to hold back a sob. “Can you move it?” asked Jack calmly. “Just wriggle your foot for me.” I managed to move it but it hurt to do so. Jack sighed in relief. “It’s alright Sammy, you just sprained it, nothing broken,” he said. “Danny, pass me the first aid kit.” Danny did as he was told, almost never taking his eyes off me from worry, and Jack grabbed a roll of bandages and wrapped my ankle up. “There we go, should be good as new within a few days if you keep your weight off it,” said Jack. Danny handed me another towel so I could dry myself off. They both helped me get my shorts back on. I felt so pathetic and weak; only I would manage to sprain my ankle deep in some caves. I felt even more pathetic when Danny hoisted me up and carried me on his back on the way out. Jack thought it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to even try and take the way out of the caves with my ankle and Danny just picked me up without a word. I felt bad because Jack had to carry all our bags but they both kept the mood light. It felt nice to be carried by Danny, another show of incredible strength and endurance, he didn’t even stop once. At one point my hand brushed his tank top covered pec and it flexed on instinct. Thankfully my throbbing ankle kept anything else from throbbing. -- Hard Mountain - Chapter Four: It had been a couple of days since my epic fail at the caves and my ankle was definitely feeling better. When we got back, Danny played nurse and brought food to my room and even helped me into the shower in the morning. After the first day, I could get around pretty much by myself but Jack insisted I stay in bed. They even unhooked the big TV in the lounge and brought it up for a movie marathon. After three days I could walk pretty much fine and took my bandages off, joining them for breakfast. “Feeling better?” asked Jack, putting a big plate of meat and egg whites in front of me before I’d even sat down. “Loads,” I said. “Sorry for being a cripple.” “Nonsense, these things happen,” said Jack. “Danny used to get all sorts of injuries, always tripping over something.” “He still does,” I chuckled. “On our first day of college, we’d just picked up breakfast from the food hall and Danny managed to trip over nothing. His tray went flying, the food went everywhere and it was hilarious. I don’t think Vanessa Carmichael has ever liked you since you got milk and cereal all in her hair.” Jack let out a roaring laugh and Danny playfully pouted. I was definitely getting more comfortable with Danny and Jack, plus I hadn’t heard any more middle of the night noises from them. “So boys, I need to head into to town today to pick up a few things,” said Jack. “I’m all out of beer because some thirsty asshole has drunk most of it.” Danny pretended to look innocent. Over the last few days, I found that Danny could knock back more than a few beers and not even feel it. Even I was drinking more, though not too many. “Anyway, anything you guys want while I’m gone?” We both shook our heads and Jack went up to go shower his workout sweat off before he left, so Danny and I cleaned up. “You think you can manage a walk today?” Danny asked as I was putting dishes away. “Yeah,” I said enthusiastically. “Great, we won’t do anything too strenuous,” said Danny. “There’s a great little place nearby in the forest and it’s all flat ground.” We finished up, packed a little lunch, Danny showered and changed before went out. Danny led us to a small clearing with plenty of shade only half hours walk away and we sat down on the ground close to each other. “Are you having a good time here?” asked Danny. I nodded. “It’s been really nice, and your dad is great. He’s really cool.” Danny smiled happily. “I’ve never invited anyone up here before. I’m glad I get to share it with you. And I really hope we can get a good apartment off-campus next year.” “Me too,” I said. “You’re pretty easy to live with. Though it’ll be weird when we graduate. My sister said it took her a while to get used to things once she went onto her masters and her old roommates had left, she’d gotten so used to living with them.” “Yeah, I can imagine,” said Danny, a little quieter than usual. He was silent for a few seconds, pulling at the grass before he spoke again. “So what do you think you’ll do when you graduate?” “I dunno,” I replied. “I’ve not really thought about it. You?” “Well, I’ll probably take my LSAT and go to Law school,” said Danny, sighing. My eyebrow rose. “But isn’t that what you want to do?” “I do, but…” Danny paused. “I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. But… I know this sounds so stupid but I when I finish undergrad, I kinda wanna go to Europe.” “Europe?” I asked, smiling bemused. “Why’s that stupid?” “It’s not, I guess,” replied Danny. “I just… I’ve been in education almost my whole life and I’d like a break, you know? Take a year off and go to all the capitals in Europe, see something different and new.” “Have you talked to your Dad about it?” I asked. Danny shook his head. “I know I should but I don’t want him to say no. I think he’ll just say I should go to law school first, but if I do then I’ll have to go straight into a law firm and start working and then I’ll never be able to go until I’m older and have a ton more responsibilities. I’d never be able to really enjoy myself that way.” I put my hand on his knee comfortingly. “Plus… I do want to be a lawyer but I also want to…” said Danny, before stopping. It was weird seeing Danny so unsure of himself. Despite his odd clumsiness, Danny practically exuberated confidence. It was a sight to see such a big guy, who’d normally held himself like a pillar of strength, picking at grass and wildflowers in frustration. “Want to…?” I encouraged. “Come on Danny, I’m not gonna judge you. What do you want to do?” Danny sighed and looked up at me, looking a little embarrassed. “I wanna… I wanna be like one of those pro bodybuilders,” said Danny, blushing. “You mean like those guys who go on stage and flex their muscles?” I asked, feigning any knowledge of bodybuilding, though my cock was growing hard at the thought of Danny in skimpy posers. “Yeah, I wanna do that,” he said, hanging his head. “You think it’s stupid right?” “Absolutely not!” I exclaimed. “I think that would be awesome!” “Really?” asked Danny with a small smile. “Yeah, I mean, look at you!” I said. “How many nineteen year olds are as big as you are? You could probably start doing it now, you’re pretty big as it is and I’m sure there’s some local competitions by campus.” “But Dad… he said…” said Danny. “In the past he said those things were stupid. I know he’s a big guy and when I was growing up, I asked why he didn’t do it as he just kept getting bigger and bigger and he said that it wasn’t a real job, that he didn’t need to prove himself that way.” “But I bet he’d be happy for you if you wanted to do it,” I said. “I’ve only known your Dad a few days but I can tell he just wants you to be happy. You won’t know that unless you talk to him.” Danny nodded. “Thanks Sam, I’m so glad you understand. I’ve never told anyone that stuff before. It… it feels so good to get it off my chest, you know? You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” Before I knew what was happening, Danny had pulled me into a tight hug. His hard muscles pushed into my body and warmth emanating from under his skin that felt so good to be enveloped in. He smelled so good and I wanted to kiss him so badly. But I couldn’t, because if I was wrong then I knew I would lose him. We headed back to the house later in the afternoon. Jack hadn’t come back yet so we hung out in my room. We took the lounge TV from my room back downstairs and then spent an hour talking about Danny’s trip to Europe. I’d been to France and Italy so I told some anecdotes from my vacations there and Danny hung on every word. “Maybe if you time it right, and you do well at some comps here, you could enter some European competitions,” I said. “Really build up your profile overseas.” “Sounds like a good idea,” said Danny, smiling excitedly. “And you would come with me, right?” I paused at Danny’s question. My family didn’t have that kind of money to pay for me to live abroad for a year. What savings they had went on paying for college tuition and living expenses for both my sister and me so we wouldn’t be in debt when we graduated. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “We’ll see.” “If it’s the money you’re worried about, don’t be,” said Danny. “I have a trust fund I get access to when I’m twenty-one. It should cover us both.” “You don’t have to do that!” I protested. “But I want to,” said Danny, smiling. “I want you come with me. It would be boring if I was by myself and you’re my best friend, so we’d have a ton of fun. Whaddya say? Come and keep this idiot company?” I laughed, shaking my head. “Fine, fine,” I said. “But you’re not an idiot, Danny. You’re a decent, intelligent guy. A little clumsy sometimes but no one’s perfect.” “I’m really glad we’re friends, Sam,” said Danny. “You just… get me. You don’t think I’m weird and it’s been so easy to be open with you, which is something. I’ve never met anyone I could be myself around without feeling awkward, I find it hard to connect with people and all through school I closed myself off and pushed people away. Living with you has helped me open up more and I’m really grateful for that, Sam.” “To be honest, when we first met I thought you were a meathead,” I said, which made Danny laugh. “But I guess the old saying is right, never judge a book by its cover. I’ve never clicked with someone so quickly before either.” Danny smiled his goofy smile and we got talking about bodybuilding. I asked him a bunch of questions, pretending I knew nothing about it so I could hear Danny’s thoughts on the subject. He liked a lot of the bodybuilders I did and the way he described them made my cock throb. “Okay, so I need an unbiased opinion,” said Danny, getting off the bed. “I’ve been practising a routine when you’ve been at your book club thing.” “Literary discussion group,” I corrected him. “How many times do I have to tell you?” “Yeah, that thing,” chuckled Danny. “So like I said, I’ve been practising a routine and I just want an honest opinion. Do you mind?” I tried not to turn bright red but I had no idea if I succeeded. “Sure, show me what you got,” I said, nervously. Danny pulled off his t-shirt and pushed his shorts down his legs until he stood in his boxer briefs. I didn’t know where to look, especially trying to avoid his bulging crotch, but I had to keep my eyes on him. He pulled the bottoms of his underwear up and tucked them into the waistband so he could show as much skin as possible. I could feel myself getting warmer and I put my hands on my lap to hide any signs of tenting. Danny began his routine, sucking his breath is and flexing each individual muscle group as hard as he could to make them stand out to the max. I gulped, swallowing down saliva, watching him flex. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to run over and start groping his big, flexed muscles and run my tongue over them. My fantasies were coming true, being in the unfettered presence of real, near-naked big muscles. But it was like visiting the Louvre, you could stand close to beautiful pieces of art but you just couldn’t touch it. Danny finished his routine with a most muscular and I clapped. I didn’t even realise I was doing it but he enjoyed it, finishing the pose and bowing. “So?” said Danny, out of breath and sweaty. “What d’you think?” “Wow,” I said, taken aback. “You looked great!” “Anything I could do better?” asked Danny. I ran over the routine in my mind and bit my lip. It made me look like I was thinking, but I was trying to stop myself from moaning. “If anything, you looked good; certainly showed everything off,” I said, clearing my throat. “But it’s a little all over the place. Don’t get me wrong, it was good but maybe just have a little more… natural progression. Like… your upper body is probably your best area, it had the best definition. So maybe start from the bottom and work your way up. That way you’re drawing the eyes up. Danny nodded in understanding. “I’m gonna work harder on my legs, really get them standing out,” he said. “They look amazing already,” I said, blushing. “Thanks, Sam,” said Danny, sitting on the bed and putting a hand on my shoulder. “It’s really helpful to know these things, and I’ll keep working hard until you think it’s perfect.” “Glad I could help,” I said, glowing red by that point. “I think you’re gonna do really well.” “I know I will, because you’ll be there with me,” he said. “Every step of the way. I want you there cheering me on.” I nodded. “Absolutely!” -- Chapter Five: Jack takes Sam to the stream and his junk definitely doesn't shrink...

This story came about from an idea I had a month ago, after re-reading my favourite story on this forum, which was archived from the old forum. The conversation I had with the author, where he gave me permission to use parts of his story in mine, can be found here: https://muscle-growth.org/index.php?app=members&module=messaging&section=view&do=showConversation&topicID=23174&st=0#msg108559 I separated my parts of the story from the author's parts with a line of equal signs: ================== ANDREW'S RECRUITING SUMMER CHAPTER 1: ANDREW MAKES A NEW FRIEND IN WASHINGTON, D.C. Andrew, Carrie and Mike, after spending Canada Day 2005 in Orillia with their parents, headed down to Washington, DC to spend Independence Day at the National Mall. They took Highway 11 south from Orillia to Barrie, where they took Highway 400 down to Toronto. Then they took the 427 to the QEW and headed around the western edge of Lake Ontario to Fort Erie. There, they crossed the border into Buffalo, New York and took US Highway 219 south to Dubois, Pennsylvania. They then turned east onto Interstate 80 and took it to US Hwy 15. They took that highway south to Harrisburg, the State Capitol of Pennsylvania, at the junction of Interstates 81 and 83. They spent the night at a hotel in that city. On July 3rd, Andrew and his friends took a scenic route into Washington DC, taking I-81 down to Hagerstown, Maryland, where they stopped at Borders Bookstore. Then they took I-81 southwest from Hagerstown Maryland into West Virginia, where they stopped at the State Welcome Center and had lunch at the BBQ that was going on. After lunch, they took I-81 further south into Virginia, and turned east onto US Hwy 50 just south of Winchester. They took that highway right into Fairfax, where they stopped at the Fairfax Towne Center and had supper at Five Guys Burgers and Fries. Then they proceeded to their hotel: the Comfort Inn Pentagon City in Arlington, Virginia. Once they had checked in, Andrew, Mike and Carrie jogged to the National Mall in Washington DC, to plot out their route for the morning of July 4th. Late the next morning, on Independence Day, Andrew, Carrie and Mike woke up in their hotel rooms, ready for their 90 minute walk to the National Mall. "I'm glad we scouted out the route last night while jogging," Mike said to Andrew, as they had a late breakfast after showering and getting dressed. "Yeah man," Andrew agreed. "It only took us about half an hour to jog there, but today we'll walk, since there will be so many people heading there." "Good thing we're leaving your truck at the hotel," Carrie said. "The traffic in the National Mall today (July 4th) would be at a standstill for hours. Not to mention that we would never be able to find a parking space." "That's why I picked this hotel Carrie," Andrew reminded her with a smug grin. "It's within walking distance of the National Mall." "Well that was fine for last night Andrew, but maybe we should take the train today," Carrie suggested. "Good idea Carrie," Andrew agreed. "I scouted out a few Metro Stations during our run last night and I believe the Pentagon City Station should serve our needs nicely." http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/d/dc/DC_Metro_Map_2013.svg/2000px-DC_Metro_Map_2013.svg.png "You're right Andrew," Mike agreed, looking at the Metro Map and the street map side by side. "We can walk northeast on Army-Navy Drive until we get to the Pentagon Row Shopping Center and the Metro Station is right there." https://www.google.ca/maps/place/Comfort+Inn+Pentagon+City/@38.8576678,-77.0593496,14z/data=!4m2!3m1!1s0x89b7b14a8fdfabd5:0x30a73c112191b664 So after breakfast the three teens began walking towards the National Mall, making sure to take a picture of the Air Force Memorial along the way. ==================================================================================================================================================== “Will we have to switch to the yellow line at the Pentagon station to get to L’Enfant Plaza?” I asked as we pulled into the parking garage of the Franconia-Springfield Metro Station. “I don’t think so,” JP answered from the driver’s seat, turning toward Chrissy who was sitting next to him. “Chrissy, didn’t they change the lines around to direct crowds better?” She didn’t answer, staring at JP’s body, totally enraptured by his newest brawn. “Chrissy?” “Huh, what?” she said, suddenly coming out of the daze. “Oh, yeah, you’re right.” He smiled warmly, causing her face to turn a crimson red. It was the Fourth of July and we were headed into DC to see the fireworks on the National Mall. Chrissy had nearly wet her pants at the sight of JP when we arrived to pick her up. At 174 pounds – probably 175 by now – of pure muscle, he was starting to look like a god. His light blue tank-top beautifully accentuated his chiseled shoulders and arms, the color brought out the bright blue in his eyes. He looked…well, perfect. We walked across the bridge into the station, bought our tickets and hopped aboard the train. Immediately, JP began attracting stares from other passengers, their eyes filled with awe. They couldn’t quite believe that a kid his age could be so phenomenally built. They marveled at how his strong, wide neck supported his flawless face, how the straps of the tank-top draped over his gracefully curved traps, how his thick shoulders and arms bulged with muscle upon muscle and were covered with writhing veins, how his lats flared out making the difference between his broad shoulders and tiny waist that much more impressive. And his butt…man, JP’s ass was beyond gorgeous, its perfect bubble shape provocatively filling the seat of his shorts. I, myself, couldn’t keep from watching my boyfriend’s muscular arms jump and flex efficiently while holding onto the pole of the Metro car, his shoulders and lats shifting silently underneath his thin skin as we hurtled smoothly through the suburbs. ===================================================================================================================================================== Within half an hour, Andrew, Carrie and Mike had arrived at the Pentagon City Metro Station. They bought their tickets and stepped aboard the train, which would take them to the L’Enfant Plaza Station just south of the National Mall. ===================================================================================================================================================== "Oh my god," JP said softly, so that only I could hear him. "What is it?" I asked him, following his startled gaze over to the open train doors. My eyes widened as the two biggest guys I had ever seen in my life stepped onto the train. "Those guys are so big they make your brother look like a midget," I whispered in fear. JP glared at me, which reminded me that he was still smaller than his brother. "Sorry JP, I didn't mean it like it sounded." "That's okay Matt," JP assured me, the anger fading from his eyes. A look of fear, which I had rarely seen before, showed up in his eyes. "I never thought I would be scared of any guy now that I'm such a good wrestler, but even I wouldn't be able to take on those muscular brutes," he whispered so that Chrissy couldn't hear. The slightly bigger guy, who had red hair and must have been six and a half feet tall, seemed to hear JP and looked towards him. The huge guy smiled and nodded at JP and after a few seconds of hesitation JP nodded back bravely. "Good job JP," I whispered. "I would've been too scared to make eye contact with such a big guy." JP smiled and I was relieved to see that the fear in his eyes had been replaced with his usual confidence. ===================================================================================================================================================== "Good job Andrew," Carrie commended him. "You scared that guy in the light blue tank top at first, but once you nodded at him, it seemed to put him at ease." "That was my intent Carrie," Andrew informed her. "I know a fellow athlete when I see one and even though he's a lot smaller than I am, I think I want to get to know him better. He looks familiar; once I remember where I've seen him before, I'll introduce myself." "I'm sure you'll get the chance once we're at the National Mall Andrew," Carrie assured him. "I think that everyone on this train is going to get off at the L’Enfant Plaza Station." ====================================================================================================================================================== The three of us heedlessly joked around the whole time and before we knew it, we were coming up the escalator to ground level. As soon as we had picked our spot smack dab in the middle of the National Mall – between the Hirshhorn Museum and the National Archives – JP opened up his backpack and pulled out his beloved Navy Frisbee. “We should get a little game in before it gets too crowded,” he suggested, beginning to pull off his tank-top. Chrissy let out an audible gasp as she saw his bare torso. My heart did a flip, like it always did when he would strip off his shirt. “God, you’re getting to be such a hunk,” she gushed, eyeing his massive chest, “you’re gonna be turning straight guys gay soon.” I burst out laughing, practically choking on my own spit. Chrissy quickly looked over at me. “What?” I couldn’t answer her, I was in such hysterics. JP smiled enchantedly and peered over at me. A chill went down my back. “You should see Matt’s body now, Chrissy,” he commented. “He’s getting bigger, too. Take off your shirt, Matt!” Chrissy looked in my direction with aroused eyes. I bit my lip and acquiesced to my boyfriend’s bidding – how could I not? I not-so-expertly wrestled my T-shirt over my head and threw it on top of JP’s backpack. “Wow!” Chrissy exclaimed. “You look amazing!” She sighed, passing her eyes between JP and me. I could tell that she was in heaven, being sandwiched between the two of us. “I can’t believe I’m hanging out with the two most gorgeous guys in the world,” she said, coming toward me and gently laying her hands on my abs. She raised her head and gazed into my eyes. “Matt,” Chrissy whispered, “I never realized until now how hot you are.” Her hands slid up to my chest, brushing against my nipples. Was she coming on to me? “I’ve been working out a bit,” I admitted, shrugging. Although I was still nothing compared to JP’s body, I had managed some modest gains myself. At 155 pounds – a full 10 pounds heavier than I was during crew season – I was in the best shape of my life. My body fat had dropped to just below 10%, so I knew that all of that new weight was muscle. My chest was developing pecs, my arms were gradually growing thicker and my six-pack – my most prized possession – was getting well-defined. “You gonna play Frisbee with us, Chrissy, or are you just gonna stare at Matt?” JP taunted, smiling brightly. Chrissy blushed and took off her own T-shirt, revealing a white tube-top underneath that clung tightly to her firm breasts. The girl was incredibly hot herself and I know that if I had been straight, I would’ve been completely boned right at that moment. She had an incredibly fit body – curves in all the right places – so you could imagine the looks we got from people, girls and guys. Of course, one look at JP and none of the other guys dared approach Chrissy, assuming that he was her boyfriend and that they would have to go through him first. Little did they know how lucky they might have been if they had tried. ====================================================================================================================================================== Once Andrew and his friends arrived in the middle of the National Mall, between the Hirshhorn Museum and the National Archives, Andrew opened up his backpack and took out his Miami Hurricanes football. "Are you ready for some football Mike?" he asked his teammate. "Yeah Andrew; I'm always ready," Mike assured him. "But do you think it would be a good idea to get a few pictures of the US Capitol Building and the White House before it gets dark in a couple of hours?" "Let's throw the football around for a while first," Andrew decided. "Then we can see those two buildings and get back to our spot on the lawn here by dusk." So for the next hour, Andrew and Mike threw the Miami football back and forth, making sure to take off their t-shirts to show off their massive muscles. As crowds of people began to fill the National Mall in preparation for the fireworks that evening, Andrew and Mike began to draw stares of awe and fear from the people around them. Andrew also noticed the brown haired guy from the train staring at him with a mixture of awe and envy. Andrew grinned at the guy, who bravely nodded back, before he had to dive to catch the Navy Frisbee his smaller friend threw him. ====================================================================================================================================================== For the next couple of hours, we tossed the Frisbee around in fun – no one bothered keeping score. Chrissy and I both admired JP’s athleticism, despite his dense musculature. No matter how far or in what direction I threw the Frisbee, he never failed to catch it, often making spectacular dives to do so. He was just so fast and agile. He was so strong and beautiful. He was a superjock. ===================================================================================================================================================== An hour after they had started throwing the football around, Andrew said to Mike, "I think we've thrown the football around long enough. It's time to go get our pictures of the Capitol Building and the White House before it gets dark. Then we'll get back to our spot here by sunset, about half an hour before the fireworks start." "How will we find our spot once this area is completely filled with people Andrew?" Carrie asked, as Mike put the football in the bag. "We'll look for the guy on our left who's been throwing the Navy Frisbee around with his friend; he's impossible to miss," Andrew informed her. "Especially since he's had his tank-top off for the past hour," Carrie reminded him with a sexy grin. "Careful Carrie; you only have one boyfriend and that's me!" Andrew shouted, flexing his massive biceps. "Whatever you say Andrew," Carrie chuckled as Mike stood up wearing Andrew's backpack. "It looks like we're ready to go." "Yes we are Carrie," Andrew said, looking over to his left and smirking. Carrie followed his gaze and saw the well-muscled guy holding the Navy Frisbee staring at Andrew. Then the guy turned away, embarrassed to be caught staring, and threw the frisbee to his friend. "Has that guy been staring at us for the past hour Andrew?" "Yeah, ever since Mike and I took our shirts off Carrie," Andrew replied, as they started walking towards the Capitol Building. "You've enjoyed shocking him with your huge muscles over the past hour, haven't you Andrew?" Carrie suddenly realized. "Yeah I have Carrie," Andrew replied. "I have been impressed, however, with how quickly he's regained his composure and bravely nodded back at me every time I've nodded at him. Hopefully, by the time we get back to our spot, I'll have remembered where I've seen his picture. Then I can introduce myself to him." "I'm going to take a picture looking back towards our spot on the lawn so that we can find our way back," Mike said. "Good idea Mike," Andrew agreed, as they crossed the street. The three friends turned around to look back towards the Washington Monument. "Make sure you get the guy from the train in the center of the picture. That way, we'll be sure to find our spot when we get back." Mike took the picture and then they continued on their way towards the Capitol Building. Andrew and his two friends continued walking closer to the Capitol Building, and then Andrew suddenly noticed a group of US Army guys up ahead in black t-shirts standing near their trucks. "I'm going to ask them if we can get a picture with them," Andrew decided, quickly putting his t-shirt back on. "I'll signal you two to join me if they say yes." Andrew bravely walked up to the Army guys, all of whom looked glad that they were on the other side of the fence from such a huge muscular guy. It's the same reaction I get from guys at the Reserves, Andrew said to himself with a silent sigh. I really wish people would stop being afraid of how big and strong I am, but I guess that's impossible! The Army guys were glad to have their picture taken with Andrew and his friends, especially after Andrew showed them his Military ID. They even pointed Andrew and his two friends in the direction of the Capitol Reflecting Pool, where other Army guys would be preparing mini-artillery guns for firing later in the evening. Andrew and his friends continued walking and soon saw a good view of the Capitol Building above the treetops: the "CNN view" as some called it. "Good job Mike; you're getting lots of good pictures of our first trip to Washington DC," Andrew commended his big friend. "Thanks Andrew, I get the feeling that we'll always remember this day," Mike said. "Yes we will Mike: because I just remembered where I've seen that guy with the Navy Frisbee before," Andrew said. "Well don't keep it to yourself Andrew!" Carrie admonished him, once she realized he wasn't going to say anything more. "All in good time Carrie; we're approaching those mini-Artillery guns the Army guys told us about," Andrew informed her. Just like the Army guys at the trucks, the guys manning the guns gladly posed for pictures with Andrew and his friends. After the pictures were taken, Andrew made sure to thank the soldiers for their service. The soldiers promptly thanked Andrew for his support, making Andrew feel very humbled and proud that he served his country like they did theirs. Then Andrew and his friends moved on, making their way around the northern edge of the Capitol Building until they reached the large plaza on the east side. "I have an idea for your next profile picture on MySpace Andrew," Mike said suddenly. "What is it Mike?" Andrew asked, as Carrie continued taking pictures. "Stand under the dome and raise your arms as if you're holding it up," Mike suggested. "We'll call it 'Capitol Muscle' or something." "I think 'Capitol Dome Military Press' has a better ring to it," Andrew said, positioning himself properly for the picture. He grinned as Mike took the picture and then asked, "There now Mike: are you happy now?" "Yes I am Andrew; let's head to the White House now," Mike suggested. "Before we go, take a picture towards the Washington Monument in the distance," Carrie suggested. "It's starting to get dark and it will make a great picture." Mike took the picture and then they made their way down Pennsylvania Avenue to the White House. Once they got there, they found lots of people taking pictures and after a couple of blurry attempts, they decided to cross the street so that they could get a better close-up view. "Good job Carrie; I think you're a better photographer than Mike," Andrew said proudly. "That's because I'm the Yearbook Photographer Andrew," Carrie reminded him with a smug grin as Mike frowned. "Are we finished taking pictures now?" Mike asked impatiently. "Can we get back to the lawn before the crowds leave us no place to sit to watch the fireworks?" "Good point Mike; it's almost sunset," Andrew realized. "And it looks like it's going to rain," he added, as the first drops began to fall. "You'd better use the umbrella in the backpack Carrie," Andrew suggested. "You don't want to get all wet." "What about you and Mike Andrew?" Carrie asked, as she took the fold-up umbrella out of the backpack. "Mike and I will drink in the water of life and it will cleanse us from our exertions over the last two hours," Andrew replied cryptically. "You mean the rain will wash off the sweat you worked up from playing football in the hot sun," Carrie laughed, amused at Andrew's attempt to sound wise and mysterious. "Those were pretty good metaphors you just used Andrew." "Thanks Carrie; sometimes I try to sound wise so that people don't forget that I have brains and not just brawn," Andrew informed her. "I don't think anyone who has seen you today with your shirt off will forget that you have brawn," Carrie assured him, making the understatement of the year. Andrew grinned at her in agreement as they made their way back to their spot near the Hirshhorn Museum, by way of the Washington Monument. ====================================================================================================================================================== Soon after JP and I finished throwing his Navy Frisbee around, the skies began to cloud up and it started to pour. We didn’t bother running for cover, instead letting the warm rain soak our skin, though Chrissy quickly realized she would have a problem. “Shit,” she cried, “I’m wearing a white shirt.” JP and I laughed as I loaned her my dark blue shirt so she could cover up her tits. She gave me a peck on the cheek and said, “Thanks, Matty.” I blushed, nervously looking over at my boyfriend who was sniggering. The sudden downpour didn’t last too long, however, and the sun quickly came out again just before it dipped behind the Washington skyline. JP and I decided to run to a nearby concession stand and get something to eat. As we stood in line, my boyfriend leaned over and whispered in my ear. “I think Chrissy’s starting to have a crush on you now,” he said. I looked at him like he was crazy. “Seriously,” he continued. “She knows I’m not interested in her anymore, so she’s moving on.” JP was always quick at picking these things up – or at least quicker than I. “But, I’m already taken,” I rebutted, looking fondly into his angelic eyes. “What am I going to do?” He grinned. “Welcome to my world,” he said, patting me firmly on the back. ======================================================================================================================================================= Andrew, Carrie and Mike got back to their spot on the lawn and marvelled at the view of the National Mall at dusk. "We should make this an annual event Carrie," Andrew informed his girlfriend. He looked towards the Washington Monument with the dusky sky behind it and added, "It's very relaxing here in DC, even on July 4th." "I agree Andrew," Carrie said, snuggling up against the massive chest of her boyfriend. "Plenty of eye candy too." "What do you mean?" Andrew asked her. "Did you see the guy to our left making spectacular dives to catch the Navy Frisbee his friend threw him a couple of hours ago?" "Yeah I did, before we got our pictures of the Capitol Building and the White House, " Andrew replied, smiling at the memory. "He's really athletic and muscular, and he's the same guy we saw on the train. I'm trying to figure out how to introduce myself to him, but I can't think of a good way to do it." He looked over to their left and realized something. "I don't see him now, or his brother, just his girlfriend lone on the blanket to our left." Then his eyes narrowed as he saw something that demanded his immediate attention. He stood up with his fists clenched and glared over to his left. "What is it Andrew?" Carrie asked him, standing up beside him. "Trouble," Andrew replied through gritted teeth. "Stay here Carrie; we'll be right back. Come on Mike." Carrie knew better than to argue with that tone of voice and she stayed behind as Andrew and Mike headed over to stop the troubling scene about to unfold. But as they soon found out, their intervention would prove unnecessary. ====================================================================================================================================================== It was almost dark by the time we headed back to our spot on the lawn. As we approached, JP grabbed my elbow, stopping me in my tracks. I looked at him puzzled, but he was staring grimly in Chrissy’s direction. She was lying on the blanket as two brawny college-aged jocks stalked toward her unseen, eyeing her schemingly. They were about to hit on her…and it was obvious that these guys were the type that would not take no for an answer. The bigger one must have outweighed me by at least 60 or 70 pounds – though a lot of it probably was fat – and the smaller one wasn’t much smaller. Their broad chests filled their wife-beaters to a near-ripping state, their arms thick with bulk. Cautiously, we snuck closer to within earshot. “Hey, baby,” the larger of the two nagged, startling Chrissy. “You alone tonight?” She craned her head up indignantly. “No,” she snapped firmly but calmly, “I’m with two guys who could knock you both out without a fight.” I gulped. Please tell me she’s bluffing, I thought. This only seemed to amuse them. “Really?” the other one retorted. “Well, I don’t see them around right now. You need someone to cuddle with?” “Don’t you even think about it!” I heard a deep voice bellow from behind me. It was JP, an intense fire bolting from his eyes, his muscles twitching with fury. The remaining twilight reflected off his body and buzzed head so magnificently, he was downright intimidating. The smaller guy’s mouth dropped open slightly when he sighted the kid, but the other guy remained unfazed. “This pretty boy is your boyfriend,” he smirked, peering at him assertively. “No,” JP returned without missing a beat, “but I am your worst nightmare.” It was the way he said those words that sent a chill down my spine. The older jock scoffed. “You wanna fight me? Us two against you two?” My heart was pounding and my knees were wobbling. What was JP doing? He couldn’t possibly be enticing the guys to fight us. Though I knew my boyfriend could take this guy, I was certain I’d be dead against the other. I froze. Arrogantly, the bigger dude sauntered up to JP who stood his ground, not moving a muscle. The two jocks were standing eyeball to eyeball, their beefy chests almost touching each other. The jerk slowly raised his fist, an egotistical sneer spreading across his face. That’s when JP struck. In the blink of an eye, JP pounced and expertly twisted his opponent’s arm behind his back, making him yelp in pain. Before he even had a chance to respond, the jerk’s head was forced back over his shoulder by JP’s other arm so that he looked him straight through the eyes. The guy had no choice but to look back as JP shot him his debilitating look of death. “You sure you wanna mess with me?” my boyfriend hissed. His challenger merely gagged in reply, JP’s powerful forearm practically crushing his windpipe. He realized he didn’t have a prayer with the champion wrestler who could, with one quick snap of his neck, take away his life. JP gave him one more squeeze and, as quickly as he had put his opponent in the position, he threw him out of it, leaving him coughing and sputtering on the ground. I stood there stunned. Other than during a wrestling match, never before had I seen him attack someone. It simply wasn’t a contest. The other guy may have weighed more, but he couldn’t match JP’s amazing strength and quickness. His friend helped him off the ground and the two hurried away, afraid to even look at the younger kid again. Immediately, Chrissy ran up and threw her arms around JP. “Oh my God, JP,” she exclaimed, her fingers barely able to fully grasp his huge shoulders, “that was so brave of you! Thanks!” Then, she gave him a big kiss on the cheek. JP merely shrugged and blushed a deep red. “Wait ‘till my brother hears about this.” JP looked back at her, smiling, happy to change the subject. “Nick’s coming to the wrestling camp this summer, right?” Chrissy nodded. “Are you kidding?” she answered. Her little brother Nick was 12 years old and was going to be in seventh grade the next school year. And like many boys in our area, he idolized JP. According to Chrissy, her brother had clipped out every newspaper article about his hero during wrestling season and had been bugging her to take him to a match. As soon as he heard that JP, along with the help of his coaches, was organizing a one-week summer wrestling camp for middle school kids, he instantly jumped at the chance and persuaded his parents to sign him up. Now, he was counting down the days until it started. “He wants to be just like you when he grows up,” Chrissy gushed. “Well, the great JP Maloney makes one helluva role model,” I added, patting my boyfriend on his wide back. "He certainly does," a very deep voice agreed from their right. JP and I looked over to where the voice came from and our jaws dropped. ======================================================================================================================================================= Andrew smirked slightly at the look of shock on both guys' faces. Then the bigger guy in the light blue tank top narrowed his eyes at Andrew, and asked him, "You want to try to mess with me too?" "No man," Andrew assured him, slightly intimidated by the guy's intensity, even though he outweighed him by about 100 pounds. "I just wanted to congratulate you on how well you took care of those two jerks. If someone tried anything like that with my girlfriend, I would have reacted the same way. I was about to intervene to help your girlfriend out but you got there first." "He's right JP," the girl said. "He was coming over to help me before you showed up; that's why I felt brave enough to tell those two jerks to go away." "Thanks man," JP said gratefully, calming down now that he knew the huge red-haired guy wasn't going to cause any trouble. "It's good to know that there are still some good guys left, instead of just jerks." He walked over to Andrew and held out his hand. "I'm JP Maloney of Central High School." "I thought you looked familiar," Andrew said, shaking JP's hand. "I've seen your picture in the Washington papers. I'm Andrew Pearson from Orillia District High School." "Andrew Pearson: the YouTube Football Star?" JP asked him with raised eyebrows. "You've heard of me?" Andrew asked him in surprise. "Yeah man; you're famous, at least online," JP informed him. "You must be really smart, using a new video-sharing website to get the attention of the NCAA Recruiters that way." "Yeah man," Andrew agreed, unconsciously mimicking his new friend's speech patterns. "But to prove it, I'd better remember to introduce my friends to you. The big guy with brown hair beside me is Mike and the girl beside him is my girlfriend Carrie." "Pleased to meet you Carrie," JP said, shaking her hand gently. He turned to Mike and shook his hand firmly. "What's up man?" "My height and weight relative to yours," Mike replied, realizing that he outweighed JP by more than 100 pounds of solid muscle. "You're right about that man," JP agreed. "But I'll get big like you one day." "I'm sure you will JP," his friend agreed. He stepped forward with his hand outstretched. "I'm Matt Anderson: JP's best friend." And more than that, JP thought, as Mike and Andrew shook Matt's hand. Then Carrie and Chrissy shook hands and introduced themselves. "Since all introductions have been made, would you and your friends like to watch the fireworks with us?" JP asked Andrew. "It's the least I can do since you were ready to help Chrissy before I got there." "Thanks man; we'd love to," Andrew replied, after Mike and Carrie nodded in agreement. "Mike: go bring our blanket and bag over here." "Yes sir!" Mike shouted jokingly, saluting Andrew as he ran to their spot on the lawn to the right of JP's group. "Mike did that salute pretty well; is he in the military?" JP asked Andrew. "No, but his older brother is and so am I," Andrew replied quietly. "Thank you for your service Andrew," JP said gratefully, clapping Andrew on the shoulder. "Thank you for your support JP," Andrew said gratefully. "You're welcome man," JP said. "Now, since you're military, I bet you can guess what my initials stand for." "I can guess John Paul, but that's it," Andrew informed him. "Were you named after someone famous?" "Yes: John Paul Jones: the U.S. Naval Hero," JP replied proudly. "And you are a hero as well man," Andrew assured him proudly. "What you did to that guy who was bugging Chrissy proved that conclusively." "Thanks man," JP said gratefully. His face turned angry as he added, "But it wasn't just heroics that made me do that." "What do you mean man?" Andrew asked him quietly, leading JP away from their friends. "Or would you prefer I don't ask?" "No, it's okay Andrew; even though we just met, I know I can trust you to keep this quiet," JP assured him. He waited for Andrew's nod of agreement before he continued. "I saw my older brother's face in my mind as I had my arm around the throat of that guy." "I see; you have some transference issues with a former mentor who turned against you," Andrew said with a sudden look of understanding. "How did you figure that out?" JP asked in astonishment; amazed that Andrew could read his mind so exactly. "My former best friend Steve used to be my mentor as I started working out," Andrew revealed. "But when I exceeded him in size and strength, his jealously revealed itself as he started bashing my proteges: like Mike there." "I can't imagine why anyone would bash someone as big as Mike," JP said with a faint look of fear on his face. "He's as big as you and you must be at least 6 foot 6 and 300 pounds of solid muscle!" "6 foot 7 and 305 pounds actually," Andrew said. "Mike and I are the exact same height and weight; pretty amazing considering he was just 5 feet tall and 80 pounds when I started training him in the fall of 1998." He noticed JP's look of astonishment and decided to switch topics. "But enough about me: let's throw my Miami football around for a few minutes and you can tell me all about your older brother." "Good idea man," JP agreed, as Andrew signalled Mike to throw him the football. He smiled as Mike threw the ball with a perfect spiral and Andrew caught it effortlessly with one hand. "You and Mike make a good team Andrew." "I should hope so; we got our team to the Provincial Championship last season," Andrew remembered. "Unfortunately our team lost, but this year we'll win!" "I'm sure you will Andrew," JP agreed, smiling at his new friend with pride in his eyes. "Have you found that your success has cost you personally like mine has?" "Yeah man," Andrew replied sadly, as he turned away to look towards the Washington Monument. "My best friend of five years turned against me after I beat up the class bully, and we've barely spoken since. It sucked man, and it still hurts almost seven years later." "I know exactly how you feel man," JP said, stepping forward to lay a hand on Andrew's massive shoulder. He was amazed that he and Andrew had encountered such similar problems as they had achieved great athletic success. "My older brother Ryan turned against me once I got close to his size and strength, which is very ironic since he was the one who taught me how to work out in the first place." "That's too bad man," Andrew said, turning around and patting JP's shoulder gently. He looked back at their group and noticed Matt smiling proudly. "But it looks like you've found a new older brother in your best friend Matt." "Yeah, Matt's been great to me over the last couple of years," JP agreed. "He's really filled the void in my life that Ryan created when he walked away." He left out the part about Matt being his boyfriend; not sure that Andrew would understand. "Anyway, enough talk Andrew; time for some football." "Good idea man," Andrew agreed, lifting up his football. "Go long man; let's see how much you've learned." More than you know man, JP thought smugly, remembering fondly how Ryan had played football with him when he was younger. He jogged further down the lawn; closer to the Capitol Building. He stopped in a part of the lawn clear of people but then noticed everyone around him staring at his ripped muscles in awe. JP smirked and thought, Just wait until you see the size of the guy who throws me the football! JP held up his hands to let Andrew know that he was ready to catch the football, but then he had to dive back to catch it because Andrew threw it too far. Man, he's scary strong; I wouldn't want to get on his bad side! JP thought in astonishment and a little fear. I'm just glad that he wasn't the one bugging Chrissy; I wouldn't have been able to scare him away! "Wow, you're really strong Andrew!" JP shouted to his new friend. "What are your stats anyway?" "Six foot seven, 305 lbs, 25 inch biceps and a one-rep max bench of 880 pounds," Andrew replied smugly, crossing his huge arms over his massive chest. Everyone around him, friends and strangers alike, turned to stare at him in awe. Andrew grinned and waved at his new fans; then he flexed his massive biceps and laughed. "Yeah, it's all true everyone, as you can see on MySpace. Just look up Andrew the Tank and you'll find all my pictures!" JP's jaw had dropped along with all the onlookers, but he managed to close his mouth as Andrew turned back to look at him with a cocky smirk. "Are you going to hold that football until it gets completely dark JP?" Andrew teased him. JP shook his head with a sheepish grin and tossed the football back to Andrew in a perfect spiral. "Those stats are really impressive man," he congratulated his big friend, grinning as Andrew caught his catch with just one hand. "You must be a god on the football field." "Yeah I am man," Andrew agreed with a smug grin. "Want to see me catch my own thrown football?" "Yeah man and I'll catch it all on video to show my friends later," JP said, getting out his digital camera. He looked at the screen, after turning it on, and added, "Just stay in the light of the street lamps Andrew and I'll be able to catch everything." "Hey, who do you think you are, giving me orders Little Man?" Andrew sneered with an arrogant grin. He chuckled at JP's sudden look of fear and added, "I was just kidding man; don't get scared." "I wasn't scared Andrew," JP bluffed, hoping that no one besides Andrew had seen the look of fear on his face. "I just thought you were serious, that's all." "I understand," Andrew assured him, meaning that he knew how important maintaining the image of a fearless jock was when one was big and strong. "Are you ready JP?" "I'm ready Andrew," JP replied, turning the knob to video and pressing the record button. "Show me what you've got Big Brother," he blurted out without thinking, wishing Andrew was Ryan. "Okay Little Brother; get ready to be amazed!" Andrew shouted, realizing that he regarded JP as a protege just like he did Mike. Andrew coked his arm back and threw his football high above the treetops. He then ran down the mall towards the Capitol Building and turned to see his football curving down over the treetops. Andrew adjusted his course laterally to intercept it and caught it neatly in his arms. "Yeah!" Andrew shouted in excitement, spiking the ball and flexing his massive biceps. "Now that's how it's done!" Everyone around Andrew who had witnessed his amazing feat clapped and cheered for him, causing Andrew's face to turn red with embarrassment. JP grinned as he approached the crowd gathering around his new 'big brother', pleased that Andrew was acting humble instead of cocky. Wait until I show this video to my friends, JP thought to himself. If Andrew agrees, I may even post it on that new video-sharing site called YouTube! Then his great football skills could reach even more college recruiters! As JP reached the edges of the crowd, his admiration for Andrew grew as he saw his big friend patiently signing autographs, posing for pictures and giving some smaller guys workout tips. If only Ryan was like that instead of being a cocky jerk! JP thought angrily. Then he would be worthy of the Big Brother title like Andrew is! Andrew looked up from signing autographs and noticed JP suddenly looking very sad. He whistled to catch JP's attention and when JP looked up, he said, "Join me in the center of the crowd man." Everyone turned to see who Andrew was motioning at, and their jaws dropped as they saw JP's incredible musculature. JP suddenly became very embarrassed as everyone started asking him for pictures, autographs and workout tips. "Did you tell everyone about my success last year in wrestling?" JP asked Andrew once the crowd of fans had finally dispersed. "I didn't have to man; once I mentioned your name, everyone knew who you were already," Andrew replied. He looked down at JP with a brotherly grin as he added, "You're famous man." "Well, perhaps in this town anyway," JP muttered, suddenly embarrassed. "But you're famous all over this continent man; thanks to your YouTube videos! With your permission, I'd like to post that video of you catching your own thrown football for the US college football coaches to see. Then you'll be recruited even more than you have been! As a Canadian, you're going to need that kind of cutting-edge digital exposure to be noticed enough by the NCAA to be offered a full football scholarship!" "Ok JP, you've made your point, with lots of big words no less," Andrew teased him. As they began walking back to their friends in the center of the National Mall, he asked, "How high is your IQ man?" "Just shy of genius level, so about 150," JP admitted. "Mine's the same as yours man," Andrew realized. "Maybe that's why we're able to carry on an intelligent conversation instead of just carrying a football." "But right now, you're carrying a football Andrew, so what does that say about your intelligence?" JP teased him. "It says that I'm a smart jock, not a dumb one, because I'm actually able to speak entire sentences JP," Andrew reminded him with a smirk. "But if you really want me to act like a dumb jock, I'm sure I could learn." "That's not necessary Andrew; there's already one dumb jock in my life; I don't need another," JP said bitterly, clenching his fists as he thought about what a big jerk Ryan had turned into over the past couple of years. "I'm not going to turn out like my brother; I'm aiming higher in life than just college sports." "Well you have good aim so far JP," Andrew commended him as they made their way down the path shaded by the tall trees. As they skirted their way around the Washington Monument fence, he added, "You'd be great at football man, but from what I saw earlier, wrestling is your first love." Matt is my first love, JP thought, smiling at the thought of the wonderful summer he was going to have with his boyfriend. "Wrestling was my first love Andrew, but once I found Matt, I found someone I could really love," JP said without thinking. "Yeah, I understand what it's like to love someone like a brother," Andrew said, completely missing JP's slip. "I can see that you look at Matt as a substitute for your brother Ryan." "As I do with you now Andrew, " JP blurted out, feeling like he'd known Andrew for years. Andrew's jaw dropped in astonishment and JP hurriedly explained: "It's been really hard not having a mentor for the past couple of years man; I guess I just admire you a lot for not acting like a cocky jerk just because you're great at football." "No problem JP," Andrew assured him, once he realized what JP was trying to say. "I don't mind being your 'Honorary Big Brother' as you prepare for your college career. I'm only a phone call or email away and my hometown of Orillia is only a day's drive from here." "Thanks for being my 'Honorary Big Brother' Andrew," JP said gratefully. "I'm hoping to get a wrestling scholarship to Ohio State so that I can stay with Matt. Of course, since he's one year older than me, like you are, this is the last year we'll have together." "I know what that's like man; my friend Mark Stevenson gets a full football scholarship to Miami this fall," Andrew said. "I'll really miss him man, just as I'm sure you'll miss Matt when he goes to college in a year." He noticed what looked like a hint of tears in JP's eyes and suddenly realized that Matt and JP were more than just brothers to each other. But instead of sharing his sudden insight with his new friend, Andrew asked, "Has Ohio State recruited you yet JP?" "No man, but since I'm just going into my Junior Year, it won't be long until they do," JP predicted with a cocky smirk. "Have you visited the campus yet?" Andrew asked. "No man; why do you ask?" JP asked curiously. "I'm going to Ohio State in a few days for a recruiting visit," Andrew replied. "I know we just met, and we should ask your parents first, but would you and Matt like to come with me?" JP's jaw dropped in astonishment, amazed that Andrew (a stranger one hour ago) was proposing a road trip. But then he saw Andrew's serious look and realized that he had found a new mentor to replace his big brother Ryan. Andrew is the big brother I wish Ryan still was, JP realized. I see now that guys don't have to be related to be brothers. "That would be great Andrew," JP said, once he could speak again. He stepped closer to his new friend and motioned him to bend down. Andrew did so and JP whispered in his ear, "You're really filling the void that Ryan left when he walked away from me Andrew. I never told Matt this, but it sucked having to work out by myself without a mentor around. And even though he has been emotionally absent for the past year, this fall Ryan will be physically absent as well, since he's going off to Virginia Tech. So I have no one left to look up to. But now I can look up to you as a big brother, just like I once did with Ryan." "I'm only an email or phone call away JP," Andrew reminded him, pulling out his flip phone so that he could give JP his cell number. "And since I'm physically present, not absent, you can look up to me right now." JP chuckled as Andrew straightened up to his full height and crossed his huge arms over his massive chest. Andrew grinned at him smugly and added, "I love mentoring the little guys like-" "Little?!" JP interrupted, his cockiness suddenly returning. He flexed his 16 inch bicep and sneered, "Does this look little to you Andrew?" "Yes it does, compared to mine JP," Andrew informed him sternly, flexing his massive 25 inch bicep. JP's cocky smirk vanished quickly and Andrew nodded in satisfaction. "Remember JP, you may be the big man at your school, but then there's college and the real world to consider." JP nodded in sudden understanding, realizing that his new friend Andrew was only one of many men out there who were bigger and stronger than he was. "I'm going to tell you how my dad's cockiness prematurely ended his NFL career JP; then you'll understand why you should be more modest and humble in public." JP nodded soberly and Andrew began telling him the story about how his dad had given in to all the hype and started drinking and driving fast during his NFL career. That carefree attitude led to the car accident that shattered Chad's kneecap, tore his ACL and ended his NFL days forever. Then Chad had to crawl back to Orillia and start from the bottom of his boss's company as a Management Intern. JP's eyes widened in understanding as Andrew told him the story and he realized that his big brother could be headed for a rude awakening as well. But I'll be the one that causes it, JP thought to himself. His fists clenched as he remembered his first reason for working out: to beat up his brother one day. JP had no idea how prophetic that goal would become and how it would change both his and Ryan's lives forever. It was just about completely dark by the time Andrew and JP got back to their friends sitting on the lawn, where they had an unobstructed view of the Washington Monument. It's about time you got back here Andrew; Mike had to fill in for you," Carrie teased him. "I hope not Carrie; you only have one boyfriend and that's me," Andrew growled, glaring at Mike. JP felt as nervous as Mike looked and Carrie had to assure Andrew that she and Mike were just friends. Matt and Chrissy looked really nervous too, and JP suddenly realized that they had looked just like that as he had held that guy in a wrestling hold barely half an hour earlier. JP scratched the back of his shaved head, embarrassed that he had allowed his bad feelings about Ryan to make him lash out like that. I've got to let Matt know later why I did that, JP realized. I hope he understands like Andrew did. He breathed a sigh of relief along with everyone else when Andrew's angry look faded into a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that guys," Andrew apologized. "I guess I was just afraid that some guys would try to cause trouble with you like they did with Chrissy earlier." "What JP did to those guys is nothing compared to what you could do Andrew," Carrie reminded him. "You could have snapped their necks like twigs!" "You'd better tell everyone your idea Andrew, before the fireworks start," JP said suddenly, anxious to change the subject. "Oh yeah, thanks for reminding me man," Andrew said gratefully, slapping his new friend on the shoulder. JP concealed a wince as Andrew quickly told Carrie and Mike his idea about Matt and JP coming along on their Ohio State Recruiting Visit. "What do you think Carrie?" "It sounds great, especially since Mike and I got a chance to know Matt and Chrissy while you and JP were playing football," Carrie replied. "Good, then it's all settled except for the timing," Andrew realized. He turned to JP and said, "We're staying in the Washington area for another day before leaving on the 6th. Is that good for you and Matt?" "Yes Andrew; that should give you guys enough time to meet my parents and Matt's mom to get their permission," JP replied. Andrew looked embarrassed that he hadn't thought of that. "Don't feel bad that you forgot about that step Andrew; I think my dad will approve of you. He's really upset that Ryan took off this summer on a road trip instead of being around to mentor me; he'll be glad I've found a new mentor." "Anything I can do to help man," Andrew said quietly, feeling sobered by the fact that JP held him in such high esteem. But then he realized that JP would never have told him so much while they were alone if he didn't trust him implicitly. "I'll be there for you as much as I can JP, even when I'm away at college. As I've told you twice before now, I'm only a phone call or email away." JP grinned at his big friend, but he also felt sad that it wasn't Ryan saying those things. Where did I go wrong with Ryan? JP asked himself. Have I lost my brother forever? He should be here, sharing one last Independence Day at home with me instead of Andrew having to fill his role as my big brother! JP was distracted from his sad thoughts by the first fireworks going off and he let his cares drift away as he enjoyed the view with his friends and new 'Big Brother.' "The second one looked just like a side profile of Abraham Lincoln!" Carrie shouted in astonishment. "Do you think it was deliberately launched that way?" "I don't know Carrie, but if Mike's been taking pictures, we can find out later," Andrew replied, looking over at his big friend. Mike held up the digital camera to let Andrew know that he wasn't missing anything. "For now Carrie, let's be quiet and enjoy the show." Carrie nodded in agreement and leaned back into Andrew's massive chest. She smiled as Andrew's muscular arms folded around her gently and she realized that there was nowhere she's rather be than in the arms of her boyfriend. ===================================================================================================================================================== The rest of that night was amazing. I couldn’t stop myself from looking over at JP as the fireworks illuminated his flawless face, the different colors reflecting in his dazzling eyes. Every now and then, he would glance over at me and smile. A tear rolled down my cheek. I was so overwhelmed by his beauty and his love for me. How the hell did I get so lucky? Chrissy’s head was leaning on my lap, but I found myself wishing it were JP’s instead. I wanted him near me every minute of the day. ====================================================================================================================================================== Once the fireworks were over around 10 pm, the crowds began clearing out of the National Mall. "I'm not ready to go home yet; what about you guys?" JP asked his new friends. "I'd like to see the Lincoln Memorial," Andrew replied. When his friends nodded in agreement, he asked JP, "Would you and your friends like to join us?" "We'd be glad to Andrew," JP replied, as Matt and Chrissy nodded in agreement. "If you look beyond the Washington Monument, you can see the Lincoln Memorial from here." Andrew and his friends looked to the west and saw that JP was right. Mike took a picture as everyone admired the view. "There, now that we've seen the Lincoln Memorial, we can go home," Matt said impatiently, eager to be alone with JP. "I think Andrew meant to see it up close, as well as inside Matt," JP reminded his boyfriend with a frown. Andrew nodded in agreement and JP smirked at his boyfriend. "See, I told you Matt!" "Okay JP, I give up: we'll see Lincoln up close," Matt sighed. "Then can we go home?" "Yeah we can Matt," JP agreed, realizing that Matt was eager to be alone with him. He led his friends across the street to the path that led to the western end of the National Mall. Everyone admired the view as they walked down the path on the north side of the Tidal Basin. Andrew made sure to take a picture of the Korean War Memorial, since his deceased grandfather had fought in that war as well as World War II. The six friends finally reached the Lincoln Memorial and saw lots of people climbing the stairs, even though it was after 10:30 pm. "Quite a crowd JP," Andrew commented. "I never expected to see so many people at this monument at this time of night." "Abraham Lincoln was arguably the most famous president in our nation's history Andrew," JP reminded his big friend. "And this memorial has been the sight of many famous events since it was constructed. That's why it draws such big crowds at all times: about six million people per year." "I understand JP," Andrew said soberly, realizing the great pride JP felt for his country. "Can we go inside now?" "Sure Andrew," JP agreed, feeling sheepish that he had soured the good mood they had been enjoying most of the evening. "Follow me man; I'll get us through the crowds." Andrew and his friends followed JP up the stairs into the Lincoln Memorial and made their way through the crowds until they could get a good shot of Abraham Lincoln sitting on his chair. "That was a very good picture Mike; especially since you caught the words about Lincoln's memory being enshrined forever," Andrew commended his friend. "Thanks Andrew; I thought you'd appreciate that, considering the events of seven months ago," Mike replied. Andrew glared at Mike at first, remembering that his grandfather had died a year before a few weeks before Christmas, but then he realized that Mike had been trying in his own way to honour Bert Pearson's memory. "Thanks man; I do appreciate it," Andrew assured him, his glare fading into a sad smile as he put a gentle hand on Mike's shoulder. JP asked him what was wrong as they headed back towards the Washington Monument and Andrew told him about his war veteran grandfather: who had served in World War II and Korea during his 20 years of service in the Canadian Forces. After Andrew finished the story, JP realized that he shared a deeper kinship with his new friend than he had first thought: considering that both their grandfathers had served in the military. The group of six friends had reached the Washington Monument by then, and they got a good close-up shot. "Well, it's been great getting to know you JP, but we should get back to our hotel now," Andrew said, checking his watch. "It's almost 11:30." "If you came with us on the Metro, we can drop you off at the Pentagon City Station and then you'll have a much shorter walk back to your hotel," JP offered. "I have an idea of what we can do tomorrow." Andrew looked over at Carrie and Mike, who nodded in agreement. He looked back at JP and said, "Good idea man; thanks for thinking of that." "I'm a little surprised that you didn't Andrew," JP teased him, as they began walking to the L'Enfant Plaza Metro Station. "It's not because I'm not smart like you JP; it's because I'm from out of town," Andrew reminded him with a mock glare. When he saw JP trying not to look scared, Andrew laughed and assured him, "I'm just kidding man; we never would have had such a great Fourth of July if we hadn't met you and your friends!" Mike and Carrie grinned and nodded in agreement and JP breathed a sigh of relief. When he thought back to the one bad incident of the evening, he realized that if those two college jocks hadn't harassed Chrissy, he would never have met Andrew: his new mentor and substitute Big Brother. I wouldn't have traded this evening for anything, JP thought to himself, very pleased that he had once again found someone he could look up to. He hoped that with Andrew's help, he could one day repair his relationship with his older brother, though he suspected it would get worse before it would get better. About half an hour later, Andrew and his friends said goodbye to JP and his friends, agreeing to meet them the next afternoon at Burke Lake Park: a large park near JP's house. "Thanks for a wonderful day at the National Mall JP," Andrew said, as he stepped off the train at Pentagon City Station. "See you at Burke Lake Park tomorrow. Call me when you're ready to meet." "No problem man," JP said, holding the doors open as Mike and Carrie stepped off to stand beside Andrew on the platform. "Thanks for the wonderful opportunity to see Ohio State in a few days with you and your friends. Have a good night Andrew." "You're welcome man," Andrew said, as the doors began to close. "See you tomorrow 'Little Brother'." The doors closed before JP could reply and he quickly raised his hand to wave goodbye to Andrew. As the train pulled away from the platform, JP wished more than anything that he was waving to his true big brother Ryan. Please let me know what you think and if I did justice to the JP Character and his innermost thoughts, a point of view that I can't remember being shown before in either the JP or Nick stories. Note: I will gradually transfer the illustrated version of the story onto my website: http://seanspictures.webs.com. All the pictures will come from my trip to Washington DC on July 3rd, 2011.

Part 1 HERE Part 2 HERE Part 3 HERE Part 4 HERE Part 5 HERE Part 6 HERE Part 7 HERE 8 Tyler and I ran towards the sound. We heard another crash near the front desk. As we got closer I moved behind the desk and there, crouched in the corner was a terrified looked man. “Get the FUCK up!” I screamed. The guy slowly stood up as Tyler and I; still naked, stood shoulder to shoulder, blocking any escape. The guy was shaking like a leaf. He looked young; maybe early 20s. He was tiny compared to us. Some would say he was beefy but he couldn't have weighed more then 200lbs. “Were you watching us? Getting off on our massive bodies?” Tyler shouted. “No-no…” The kid stuttered. “Yeah I think you were. I think you were jerking off as we tossed those huge weights around and fucked each other raw.” “I swear I wasn’t. Please don’t hurt me”. He said; sounding close to tears. “How the hell did you get in here?” I asked. “My-my dad…” “Your dad WHAT?” “He owns this place. I’m Grant’s son Matt. I just wanted to workout. I swear I didn’t know anyone was here.” I looked at Tyler who was looking at the kids crotch. I looked down and saw he had a huge hard-on under his baggy shorts. I smiled and stepped closer. He stumbled back and crashed into the counter. “Did you like the show?” I whispered and raised my left arm and flexed. The kids eyes bugged out of his head at the close up view of my 25” biceps. I raised the other arm and flexed both mammoth biceps in his face. Tyler stepped closer and hit a side chest pose. The kid started to shake and moan. We watched as a wet spot appeared on the front of his shorts. He looked at us and tears started to pour from his eyes. “I know you’ve never seen this much muscle before kid but we aren’t giving away free shows. What you saw here tonight was meant to be private.” I said. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” was all Matt could mumble. “You’ll be more sorry if I see you trying to catch another show!” I yelled. “GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” Matt climbed over the counter and scrambled to the front door. Tyler and I laughed as we showered. We found a 24 hour diner and ate close to $200 in food before heading home to crash. ———————————————————— Matt barely made it to his car before he came again. He was shaking; both from fear and from pure ecstasy. All the muscle porn he’d watched didn’t come close to what he had just witnessed. “They were so HUGE! So STRONG!” he kept saying. Matt drove home with one hand on his crotch. He showered and jerked off again before crawling into bed. His terror had subsided. Now he was depressed. Ever since he tuned 18 Matt had been working out at his dad’s gym. He had gained about 10 pounds a year and was now 22 and 208lbs. Matt wasn’t happy with his progress. He wanted to be bigger, a lot bigger. He hadn’t come out of the closet yet either. That certainly didn’t help. He had spend his whole life around big, alpha, macho men. He was terrified what his dad would do if he ever found out. The more Matt thought about what had happened at the gym the more embarrassed he became. He couldn't believe he got caught. When he wasn’t hard from thinking about them; he was close to tears. Matt stayed home for over a week. He survived on delivery pizza and soda. He could feel his dismal mass gains disappearing every day. On the twelfth day of his self-imposed exile Matt decided to take a walk. He roamed the streets for hours until he found an old hole-in-the-wall gym just a few blocks from his apartment. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before. The place was even more run down on the inside. The paint was faded and peeling, half the mirrors were cracked and the floor was filthy. What it lacked in cleanliness it more then made up for it in gym equipment. The entire place was packed with machines, racks and more metal plates then Matt had ever seen. There wasn’t anyone at the front desk but Matt could hear metal clanging from the back of the large room. Slowly he made his way towards the sound. There didn't seem to be anyone else there. Matt moved around a leg press machine that was fully loaded with 45lb plates. He just assumed it was being used as a place to store weights; no one could press that much weight. His thought was interrupted by the source of the metallic bangs. There in the corner of the gym, was a beast of man doing squats. The bar was loaded with so many plates it bent across the man’s traps. With machine like precision; the man moved the massive weight at an alarming speed. He had already started his set and didn’t look like he was stopping anytime soon. He performed 14 reps before slamming the weight onto the rack. The entire room shook. The man stopped and turned towards Matt. “Hey there” he grunted. Matt slowly stood up and stepped towards the man. To describe him as huge was not doing him justice. He didn’t even look human. Matt couldn’t hide his reaction to the man’s size. He placed his had over his mouth to stifle a scream. The man lumbered closer and Matt noticed he wasn’t young. Grey hairs peppered his buzzed hair along with crows feet and some wrinkles. Seeing Matt’s reaction caused him to stop and smile. He pulled his tight shorts up slowly revealing his pumped up quads. Matt looked down as the behemoth started to flex. Thick, meaty mounds of muscle started to flare and bulge on the man’s legs. Countless veins erupted across every inch of his smooth skin. His muscles fought amongst each other until they all solidified into an unspeakable abomination. Matt couldn’t comprehend the site. He tried to stifle a gag but ended up throwing up on the gym floor. He stumbled back as he lost control of his legs. “FUCK YEAH!” the beast yelled and flexed his calves. Already the size of a football, they immediately doubled in size. Their shape contorted and solidified into a granite hard collection of inhumanly massive muscle. Matt stared horrified at what he was witnessing but couldn’t look away. In his wildest fantasies he could never imagine that someone could be this huge. The beast seemed to be feeding off of Matt’s reaction to his body. He shifted his weight from one leg to the next and continued to flex his beyond massive quads and calves. He was straining hard, grunting and spitting from the effort. “Pumped these quads past 38” today. Still not big enough. You think these legs are sick; check this out.” He grabbed the waist of his sweat soaked sweatshirt and peeled it off. Even though his shear size could not be hidden by the enormous sweater, seeing it uncovered was incomprehensible. “NO!” Matt screamed “No one is this huge!” “I AM” was his only reply as the sweater fell to floor and he stood over Matt’s shaking body. “Stand up. I’m not going to hurt you kid. Actually; your reaction is what I live for. It’s fucking hot to see you trying to comprehend all my size.” he said and stepped closer to Matt and extended his thick hand. Matt reached up and grabbed hold. His legs were shaking as Matt stood face to face with the most muscular freak of nature he had even seen. “Name’s Clint.” “M-M-Matt” “Well Matt, I assume you’ve never seen a man with over 375lbs of muscle packed on a 5’6” frame before.” said Clint. “375lb!” “378 this morning bud. Not bad for 52 years old eh?” Clint said with a smile. “FUCK” was all Matt could muster. Clint leaned down and grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to Matt. After taking a big swig Clint placed a hand on Matt’s shoulder “feel a little better?” Matt nodded. “That’s good. Have a seat on that bench. I’m not done showing off just yet.” Matt’s eyes widened as he sat down slowly. Clint positioned himself a few feet away. Clint’s bull neck looked to swell as he rolled his shoulders. His huge traps morphed into something straight out a comic book. Each mound of muscle rose to touch his earlobes. Deep striations erupted on his beach ball sized shoulders. Without flexing he looked to be twice as wide as he was tall. As if he was watching Matt’s eyes, Clint slowly started to flare his lats. His impossibly wide body defied all logic and widened even more. Matt looked on slack-jawed. You could project a movie under each of Clint’s arm pits. With his fists balled up, Clint somehow managed to bend his arms and touch either side of his thick waist. He flexed his cobblestone abs, causing his waist to shrink by a number of inches. He let out a low moan as his back expanded even more. Now looking to be wider then a mid-sized car Clint held the pose. Sweat puddled on the floor and Clients arms started to shake. “FUCK this feels good!” Clint yelled. Clint finally relaxed the pose and immediately raised his enormous arms. Every visible inch of skin glistened with sweat. He adjusted his feet and started to flex his biceps. Out-massing even the most extreme cartoon morph Matt had even seen online, Clint continued to tense his arms. At their full flex, they no longer resembled what could be defined as just arms. There was no space between biceps, forearms and shoulders; only a single mound of writhing, quivering insanely developed muscle mass. Clint’s shoulders appeared to be pressing against the sides of his face. He managed a slight smile and somehow managed to wrestle his arms higher still until they were positioned behind his neck. With obvious pain on his face, Clint spat and grunted while extending his left leg and flexing his entire upper body into the most grotesque abs/thigh pose every witnessed. Matt could not contain himself and longer. He placed his hands over his painfully hard cock. Still holding the sickening pose Clint managed to say “N-n-not y-y-yet” before finally relaxing. The gruesomely huge man looked twice as big as he had when Matt first laid eyes on him. He moved towards the terrified boy. “Stand up.” he commanded. Matt managed to stand and looked Clint in the eyes. “I’m impressed you were able to control yourself.” Clint said as he placed one meaty paw behind Matt’s neck and pulled him closer. “Besides, I’ve wanted to do this as soon as I saw you.” Clint kissed Matt long and hard. He placed his hands on Clint’s freakishly bloated pecs. Clint moaned and reached into Matt’s shorts with his free hand. “Cum as you feel me.” Matt’s entire body shook. Clint lightly tugged on his throbbing cock half a dozen times before Matt unleashed a massive load into his hand. “Mmmmmm…” Clint said and pulled his cum soaked hand out. He smiled at Matt and started to lick his hands clean. “My turn” Clint said and stepped away from Matt and moved towards the weight ladened leg press machine. Matt stood with a look of confusion on his face. “1750lbs” Clint said as he positioned his mammoth body into the machine’s seat. Without hesitation he hoisted the weights up. The plates rattled loudly when he reached the top of the rep. He lowered the weight until his knees almost touched his ears, showcasing flexibility that rivalled his obscene muscularity. At the top of the next rep he paused and flexed his quads. “38 inches” he sputtered and lowered the weight again. With strain on his face he slowly powered the weight up again. Once again he stopped at the top. This time, he placed his hands on his thick quads and started to massage the dense fibers. He looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. Leaving one hand on his blood engorged quads his other hand reached into his shorts. He aggressively started to jerk his hard cock. Matt stood slack jawed. Clint freed his enormous cock from his shorts and continued to tug on it. “Need more size…need to be bigger…WILL BE BIGGER” he repeated over and over. After a minute at the top of the rep his legs were shaking uncontrollably. Matt started to worry the weight would come crashing down. As if sensing Matt’s concern Clint adjusted his feet and started to perform calf raises with the massive weight. Clint stared at his inhumanly developed calves as cum started to spray all over his pumped up pecs. He let out a savage grunt and lowered the weight and rolled himself onto the floor. He laid there for a few seconds before standing up. “That was fucking intense. I’ve never had someone witness me do that. You should rest here for a bit. I’m going to have a shower. Be back in a little bit.” Clint said and waddled away. Matt stood speechless watching Clint's mammoth back, glutes and quads slowly walk away.

Sorry it's taken so long for a new instalment. I hope you enjoy it. Part 1 HERE Part 2 HERE Part 3 HERE Part 4 HERE Part 5 HERE Part 6 HERE 7 I had a set of keys to the gym. I had gotten them from the hot muscle head that worked the front counter. He knew he could have gotten fired for giving them to me but he would have done anything to have my attention, even for a few minutes. I had him meet me there one night and he gave me a pretty great blow job. Tyler and I practical ran through the front doors. We were both riding high from the massive doses of roids coursing through our veins coupled with our intense muscle sex a few hours before. We headed straight to the weights. I stepped behind Tyler, grabbed hold of his hoodie and with one savage tug, pulled it clean off his body. He smiled and hit a most muscular pose in the mirror. “FUCK YEAH” he bellowed “I want to make this 280lb look pathetic and small!” I stepped in front of him and started to pound my fists on his flexed pecs. The sound of the impacts echoed throughout the empty gym. “You won't even recognize yourself in a few weeks” I said. I was wearing a t-shirt that was already stretched to its limits. I started to lift it up but Tyler stopped me. “Get so pumped you tear that shirt off.” “OH YEAH” I screamed and walked towards the dumbbells. I hoisted the 75lb dumbbells off the rack and started doing curls. Instantly my massive 25” biceps swelled. Tyler counted each perfect rep. “…fourteen, fifteen, KEEP GOING, sixteen, seventeen…” he counted. At twenty reps I let the weights drop to the ground with a loud crash. I stepped over them and grabbed the 100lbs and started to curl. When the gym is busy I always get some terrified stares when I use these. I can see the looks on the other peoples faces. Their wide eyes drive me to power though a few extra reps. Nothing gets me going when the “biggest” guys look totally defeated by the insane power I possess. Tonight it was just Tyler. At ten reps my arms are on fire. Veins as thick as garden hoses cover the surface. My smooth skin is glistening with sweat. My rhythm starts to slow and Tyler stepped in front of me. “COME ON!” he screams, spraying spit on my face. I curl the weight for the eleventh time and I’m about to drop it when Tyler leans in and starts to kiss me. He grabs hold of my waist and squeezes with all his strength. “Show me your POWER” he commands and steps aside. Something snapped in my head. I wanted Tyler to see there was no limit to my strength. I let out a primal scream and started to curl again. The pain was gone. All I was feeling were my biceps growing. I watched in the mirror as my arms exploded in size. My shirt was like a second skin. I managed to reach twenty reps before dropping the weights. I raised my arms into a double biceps pose. I flexed so hard my arms trembled from the effort. spit covered the mirror as I grunted and yelled. The fabric of the shirt could not hang on any longer. Each arm tore open. I straightened and re-flexed arms. I flared my monstrous lats and heard another rip. My vein covered lats erupted from the holes. I hit a most muscular pose and the remaining fabric on the back of shirt gave away. I peeled the sweat drenched remains from my body, wiped my face and tossed it aside. I turned to face Tyler. He was smiling widely. I grabbed him and kissed him with such force he stubbled back. I turned and walked towards the 120lbs. I could hear Tyler gasp behind me. I have used these dumbbells for curls before but I’ve never been able to do more then four reps. All I wanted right now was to torture my body more then I have ever experienced. I wanted pain, I needed pain. I grabbed the huge weighs. Instantly I felt pain radiating throughout my entire body. I looked down at my blood engorged arms. Thick, pulsing veins covered every inch. My forearms along looked bigger then most people’s quads. My dick started to get hard at the gruesome sight. Through gritted teeth I mumbled “I need to grow…” Tyler stepped behind and start to scream encouragement in my ear. I closed my eyes and started to curl the weights. I managed three perfect reps before the pain became unbearable. I opened my eyes and looked at my hulking 335lb body. I looked demented. A deformed creature not from this planet. “F-F-Fuck me” I bellowed. Tyler looked shocked but didn’t hesitate to pull down my shorts. His strong hands kneed my striated glutes. He pulled down his own shorts and exposed his raging hard-on. Without wasting any time, he drove his cock into my ass and started to pound me hard. Staring at our massive bodies in the mirror I started to curl the weights again. Keeping rhythm with Tyler's powerful trusted I felt unstoppable. Adrenaline coursed though my veins. Every inch of my body screamed for me to stop but I couldn’t. I needed my arms to explode with more dense muscle then anyone had ever seen. I don’t know how many reps I managed to complete with the 120lb dumbbells before I let them fall to the ground. Tyler pushed me into the weight rack and started to pound my ass with renewed intensity. He kept muttering “sssoo fucking massive”. Thirty seconds later he pulled his cock out and spayed a humungous load all over the mirrors while I collapsed on the floor. “That was the most incredible sight I have ever seen.” Tyler said, standing over my exhausted body. “You look bigger than ever. LOOK at your arms!” I smiled and tried to flex my biceps but they barely moved. Still naked; Tyler walked to the squat bar and loaded a 45lb plate on either side. I rolled to my side and managed to get back on my feet. I hobbled to him as he curled the weight very rapidly. I stood behind Tyler and marvelled at the massiveness of his back and shoulders. He barely resembled the young stud I first met only months before. I stepped closer to the beast and ran my hands over his huge biceps as he continued to curl. I leaned in close and whispered in his ear. “Out power me. Show me what you can do.” Tyler bite his lip and dropped the bar. Without a moment of rest he added another 45lb plate to either side of the squat bar and with 225lb now loaded he positioned himself between me and the rack. He let out a little grunt and hoisted the bar off the supports. He managed fourteen perfect reps before the pain was too intense. He could not curl the weight past his waist. His whole body was shaking and waves of heat was radiating off him. He stopped trying to lift the weight; letting it hang with his arms extended. Tyler lowered his head and closed his eyes. I took a step back and watched his reflection in the mirror. He stood motionless for a long time before raising his head. The look in his eyes caused a chill to run up my spine. Suddenly the heavy weight started to move. Tyler was able to curl it again but to my amazement, he didn’t stop at the top of the rep. Instead; he pressed the weight over his head. Sweat and spit flew out of his mouth as he powered to weight higher. He looked up at the ceiling and let out a savage bellow and slowly lowered the bar behind his head! I stumbled backwards and sat on a nearby bench as Tyler started to preform perfect overhead tricep extensions with 225lb. Gruesome veins erupted over the surface of his triceps and forearms as he moved the weight up and down. I watched open-mouthed as he reached eight reps before the bar came crashing down behind him. Tyler turned towards me. His bloated upper body looked torn from a bodybuilding magazine. He was breathing heavily and sweat was pouring off his body. His massive pecs twitched and flexed with each breath. He raised his enormous arms and hit a devastating double bicep pose. His cock was rock hard and dripped with cum. He couldn’t form complete words but grunted and mumbled as he flexed harder. His whole body trembled with effort. I started to stroke my own hard cock at the sight. Seeing my reaction to his muscle engorged display made Tyler smile. “You like what you see big man? You made me into this freak. I feel so fucking huge right now. Like I could pull this whole building down with my bare hands.” Tyler released his mammoth flex and walked back to the squat rack. He hoisted the huge weight and turned to face me again. He started to curl the weight again. The pain of his face was obvious but he was determined to keep lifting. His cock slapped against his wet smooth abs. I stood to face the beast as I started to cum. I sprayed a huge load all over Tyler’s massive frame. He screamed and curled the weight for the seventh rep but didn’t let the bar drop. His arms looked like they were boulders of granite. He locked eyes with my and suddenly I feel his hot cum splashing off my chest. Tyler dropped the weight, grabbed me around my waist and kissed me hard as his arms pressed into my thick muscled torso. He held me in his arms for a long time while we kissed. Finally his arms gave out and we both collapsed to the floor. I slide my cock into his striated ass and started to pound him hard. We both grunted from the force. Tyler flexed his back causing me to cum in minutes at the site. We both rolled onto the ground, breathing heavy and causing a puddle of sweat around our naked bodies. We both decided it was time to shower and go find somewhere to eat when we heard a metallic crash from the other side of the gym. We both stood up and saw a shadow move in the dark corner of the weight room. There was someone watching us.

Back to the first part of this chapter.... "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match Finally, another chapter.....a group of the boys are heading off for muscle worship in LA! Part 1. Sorry it has taken me so long to continue. ENJOY! Comments welcome... Updated Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 20 - Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 21 - Sam and Casey "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 22 - Field Trips for Worship, Part 1 "The Twenty" - Chapter 23 - Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, and Makes a New Friend "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 24 - Further Encounters 5: Sam and Casey Again, and Moster and the Cadets Precis: Valhalla Labs is a remote mountaintop Northern California military facility, overseen by genius muscle growth scientist Dr. Ira Zaftig and CO Staff Sergeant Rod Moster, a 7'-0" ripped and hung 395-pound black muscle giant. There, 18 extraordinary bodybuilder-soldiers live, train, and play together, overseen by Moster's strict rules and brutal regimen for muscular perfection. Known as Project Herculaneum, the men serve as Dr. Zaftig's lab rats, receiving regular injections of P-21, a specially developed enzyme that facilitates muscle and strength growth in the very few bodybuilders whose systems can withstand it. The goal: to create an army of supermen, whose strength, size, and combat skills are unparalleled in the modern military. Unfortunately for the Project, the soldiers' enhanced strength and dramatically increased muscular size is accompanied by a corresponding increase in priapic size as well, along with a rapidly diminishing sense of social restraint and inhibitions. And along the way, the men's extraordinary physiques prompt their own extreme muscle fantasies into a daily acting-out sexual reality. Into the mix comes young Casey Rockland, a lonely, handsome, super-hung 18-year old bodybuilding giant. Inducted by Dr. Zaftig into the top-secret government muscle strength and growth project, Casey comes to learn the ropes amongst the muscle giants, whose hunger for hardcore training is matched only by their sexual appetites and growing fantasies, including their insatiable need to receive muscle worship. Casey's innocence, simplicity, and his growing need to receive both love and muscle worship threaten the very core of the decade-long Project, itself only now approaching its full potential. Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match Casey and Abdul shook hands and almost immediately crashed into each other like sumo wrestlers. Moving with confident skill, Abdul wrapped his arms around Casey’s chest and slid them up underneath his armpits. He gained leverage, letting out a massive grunt as he heaved the big muscleboy up off his feet. Casey moaned as Abdul slammed him down to the mat. “Awesome,” breathed Lang. “That was fast,” said Waring. “He’s not done yet,” said Alvarez. The men leaned in to watch closer. The wrestlers’ gigantic muscles rippled with pumping, vascular power on the mat. Casey managed to break free for a second, but found himself in Abdul’s guard. Abdul was already going for a triangle choke. Casey was slippery enough to wiggle free for a moment, but Abdul climbed onto his back and sunk in a chokehold, rocking Casey backwards as he tried to shove his hands underneath his rippling forearm. It was no use. Superior experience took the moment from Casey. Abdul reached behind him and grabbed Casey’s asscheeks. “Let’s keep it clean, keep it clean,” said Moster, circling. “Think you’re tough, punk?” Abdul snarled into Casey’s ear. “I know I am,” said Casey. He struggled to wriggle himself free. Sweat began to pour down his body, further drenching the mat. Abdul stretched him out as the other guys watched. They slid in the growing pool of oil and sweat. As he dug his hands in, he caught Casey’s posers with his heel. Casey could feel them sliding down his quads the harder he squeezed. The elastic band stretched until is slipped under the pouch. For a flash, Casey felt humiliated and helpless, almost half naked and groaning as Abdul dominated him. Then he retaliated. Snapping one hand onto Abdul’s pecs, he managed to push him back and deliver a powerful backhand blow across Abdul’s face. Abdul’s face whipped to one side. “Fuck Turkish rules. Keep the posers on,” Casey snarled. Moster said nothing. Mouths dropped open. Abdul released the posers, smiled back, as Casey pulled them back into place. Casey looked back at him, and Abdul smiled - and returned a powerful backhand blow of his own across Casey’s face. Casey’s head whipped to the right. He looked back slowly and nodded. “We’re even.” Welts began to appear on the faces of both men. All of sudden, Abdul shot out, gutwrenching Casey’s face into his lap. “No. Now we’re even.” He tried to shoot a takedown, but Casey suddenly sprawled flat, flipped him, and got a tight front headlock on Abdul. He went down on one knee and flipped him over with a fireman’s carry. Before Abdul knew what hit him, he was on his back. Casey felt his arm between his legs as he attempted a cradle. He was close to scoring. Abdul, his face now puffing up, struggled in the sweaty pool of muscle. Casey locked up his hands and rocked him back. The tide of battle changed. Somehow Abdul got to his feet, grabbing hold of Casey’s hips and now shooting for a second takedown, bending over him now and reaching down his broad back. Casey, surprised, tried to sprawl but Abdul guided his hands up again toward the straps of his posers and made him almost sit on his hands. Casey tried to bridge, but Abdul clamped onto him. Saliva sprayed from his mouth and onto the back of Casey’s neck. Abdul flipped him, crashed onto him with his full body weight. It was no use. Casey gave up and collapsed. Sweat poured off Abdul’s face right into Casey’s eyes. Casey slapped the mat to make it stop and Abdul let him go. Body odor wafted from sweaty armpits as the men applauded Abdul’s round one victory over Casey. “Want to go again?” Abdul asked. He was breathing hard. In spite of his win, the kid had been a lot tougher than he anticipated. His eye was swelling shut and his mouth was bleeding a little. “I can take it,” said Casey. His thin skin was red with mat burns, head was throbbing. Was this really him? It was as if he couldn’t control the truth coming out of his mouth. It all felt right. He could take it. He loved the pain, in fact. Loved it. But didn't really want to think about it for the moment. Abdul nodded, stepped back, retired to the corner of the ring. Pedro was there, pouring more oil. “Don’t need that. Massage my shoulders.” Pedro looked at him a little helplessly, his light kitchen fingers not nearly meaty enough to knead the dense muscle mass that was Abdul’s traps, but he tried. After a few seconds, Abdul brushed him away, irritated. “Never mind,” he barked. Pedro’s eyes flashed hurt, and Abdul brought himself up to smile at him slightly. “You tried.” He patted the handsome boy’s face heavily with thick oily fingers, leaving a gleaming handprint on Pedro’s cheek. Pedro beamed ecstatically. He so hoped he could suck his god’s cock later, but didn’t dare to ask. Abdul turned back into the ring. He called to Schumacher. "Get your ass over here and massage my shoulders," Schumacher grunted and went to work on him, kneading the bunched masses with his thick, powerful fingers. Casey was still center, dancing from foot to foot, not caring that his massive tool was bobbing out of his posers. “Lookin’ good, Case,” yelled Obatu from the sidelines. He turned to Washington, sitting next to him. “Know him from Raw Weight.” “Yeah, Miles’ place. Gotta get there again soon.” “Good workouts.” He winked. “A little cash to be made, too.” “Yeah? Doin’ what?” “You know. Trainin’. Getting’ big. Growing. Flexing. Getting your dick sucked. You know.” “Oh, yeah.” Casey didn't know. But he forgot about it in a moment. The whistle blew. “Round two!” announced Moster. Casey and Abdul stepped towards each other, circled, each more wary. On the sidelines, Alvarez glanced over at Lang. Lang’s pants were open, his zipper down, his cock tumbling out of his khakis. He happily worked his long, extra-thick shaft. He glanced up at Alvarez and shrugged. “It’s hot,” he said. Alvarez had to acknowledge it was. “So why not?” Alvarez nodded agreement, opened his fly, with some difficulty pulled out his own already-stiff, mammoth member, and began to chug up and down the shaft with practiced, heavily calloused fingers. Lang looked down, grinned, licked his lips, winked at Alvarez. “Pose and approve later?” “We’ll see.” Lang knew there would be. This was too hot not to follow up with a long pose and approve session and some good butt fucking. But for now, both musclemen turned back to the match and standing side by side, together worked their cocks in silent unison. Their fists plunging up and down. A moment later, Waring, Duncan, and McIntyre had joined them. “Oh, yeah,” said McIntyre. squish squish squish squish squish squish squish squish And a moment after that, Hension, Chad, Meyer and Gunst had pulled their heavy cocks from their khakis and were applying basic spank the monkey techniques. squish squish squish squish squish squish squish squish Moster heard the squishing sounds of numerous big cocks being worked by powerful, pumping fists, looked up, glancing askance at the group. “Begging your pardon sir!” yelled out Hension. “We’re masturbating, sir!” “And why not?” said Moster, but he kept his cock in his pants. Still, out it poled. “Bring it, bitch!” yelled Casey as the two faced off in the center of the mat. “C’mon dude, we wrestlin’ or dancin’? Take a shot!” Abdul taunted. Both men seemed either oblivious to or uninterested in the fact that all around them, every man on the muscle squad was now actively jerking off. Casey shot out a lightning fast single leg. Abdul hopped over it and tried to pivot as Casey dove in, wrapped meaty arms around Abdul’s waist, and brought him violently down to the mat. Somehow Abdul flipped to his belly and Casey applied a painful hammerlock with one hand as he grabbed the back of his head with the other and rubbed his face in the mat. “How’s that mat taste?” Casey asked as Abdul grunted, struggling to turn his head to the side. On the sidelines, Pedro was frantic, seeing his big man suddenly so disgraced, however momentarily. Abdul tried to get off his stomach, but Casey slid his bulging quads down inside Abdul’s and drove his arm underneath his chin. Casey rolled onto his side and poured on the pressure. “Arrgghhhh!” Abdul groaned as Casey stretched him out. Pedro looked on, helpless with worry. “Ya like that, tough guy? Want some more?” Casey murmured between clenched teeth said as he pulled up harder on his chin, Casey totally wrapped around him. Abdul was completely immobilized. He groaned. “C’mon Abdul, you can take this!” Schumacher yelled. He too was now playing with himself freely. Lang, firing away on his stiff-as-iron cock, was laughing. “Put him on his back, Case! Finish him off.” Casey’s posers crept deep into his ass crack as he locked his legs around Abdul’s left leg. His rock hard glutes squeezed together as he wore the huge Turk down. Abdul tried to get free of Casey’s chin lock, but it was no use. He panted and groaned as Casey pulled his head down. “Got some lube?” asked Chad from the second row. The source was surprising. “Here,” said Schumacher, passing around tubes of the prime VALHALLA LABS signature cock-pumping oil. “Gift from the house.” “When did we start making this stuff?” asked Hension, looking down at the tube as he squeezed the warm lubricant onto his thick cockshaft. “Shut the fuck up,” said Lefevre, but he grinned good-naturedly, clapping Hension lightly on the back of the head. On the mat, Abdul suddenly switched it all out. He pried Casey’s hands from the chin lock and sank his arm around Casey’s neck, pulling him down to the mat and now choking him out. His drove his ankles down deep into Casey’s quads and he began to constrict his hold around his neck. Sweat poured off both men. The strong smells of perspiration, olive oil and butt wafted up into the overhead lights. It was now Casey’s turn again to groan in pain. Abdul’s powerful forearm was wrapped around his thick neck. Moster jumped into the ring, sticking his head into his face and asked Casey if he was ready to give up. Casey was grunting and struggling to breathe. Casey was unable to say the words I give. “Too soon,” he breathed out from under Abdul’s body mass. “Loosen up, man,” Moster said to Abdul, who nodded. Abdul loosened the hold so Casey could breathe, but he wasn’t done. Casey tried to get up, but Abdul still was controlling him. Then Abdul reached down and once again slid his hand down into Casey’s now-ripped posers. Casey looked angered as Abdul grabbed onto his thick cock. He handed off the poser to his foot, and peeled Casey’s poser down revealing the muscleboy’s huge penis. “In Turkish oil wrestling rules, the match is now over,” muttered Gunst from the sidelines, watching the mass of slippery muscle tumble on the mats. He rubbed the bulge in his pants, and glanced down. Straight up and out, past the belt line, up into his t-shirt, poling up above his belly. He unzipped and released his mass. “We done?” breathed Abdul. “No!” yelled Casey, now naked. “Naw, it’s way better than Turkish wrestling,” whispered Blankenship, now fondling his own stiff penis, still sheathed in khaki. Gunst looked him quizzically. “I like how it feels in my pants.” “Oh. Oh, yeah. Me too. Sometimes.” Gunst began pumping. “But not now.” Around the ring, all cocks were pumped a little more fiercely as the match intensified. “Okay then. We go for a pin.” Abdul moved his hand up to Casey’s head, rubbing it in his hair to get some sweat for lubricant. Then he came back rubbing Casey’s cock until it was rock solid. Out it poled, 12 inches and more. “Whatcha gonna do about it this time?” he sneered. The 17 bodybuilders were now all leaning in and pumping hard cocks, watching the sweaty jumble of muscle on the mat. Even Schumacher was now pumping furiously. As was Tiffany. For once the self-possessed little muscleboy let his guard down. He worked his cock ferociously, watching the dark match. “They’re pretty even,” said Warning. “Yeah,” said Chad. Next to him on the left, Obatu and Washington looked as if they were about to get up. A light flickered in Lang’s eye. Hension looked wildly around him. He was going to cum soon. Moster directed them all warningly, knowing where they were likely to go next. “Stay where you are, gents. No cumming. Men can hold it.” General moans. The men did as they were told. The wrestling room was silent except for the grunts of Casey and Abdul, the near-silent whirring of Dr. Irving’s video cam, the blue-balled moans and groans of the fleet of masturbating muscle giants, with the squeaky wet regular tattoo of lubricated palms working big cocks. Squish squish squish GRUNT GROANNNN squish squish squish squish squish squish “I SAID, DO NOT CUM!” Moster shouted suddenly. All jumped in their seats. “A man can withstand it!” All sat. 17 monster muscle cocks with nowhere to go but into calloused palms. For now. Up and down. Up and down. “Hey, Chad!” whispered Bogarde loudly. “Squeeze my nips!” Chad reached over to his right with his free hand (the other feverishly pumping his cock) and began violently tweaking Bogarde’s huge, downward-pointing think nipples. “Yeah, make me hurt, man!” Bogarde pleaded, working his cock. “You got it, man.” Squish squish squish UGH GROANNNN UGH UGH GROAN…. squish squish squish squish squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. Suddenly Abdul flipped, keeping his hold on Casey, who squirmed below. Casey was on his back now with Abdul on top, now in the north-south position. All Casey could see was Abdul’s bulging balls and the red singlet outline of his rigid cockshaft. Abdul lowered his balls onto Casey’s face and caught his head in between his legs. But Casey somehow spread his legs and reclamped behind Abdul’s neck. The two muscle monsters squeezed each other tight, rubbing crotches in each other’s face. Casey’s enormous penis brushed Abdul’s scratchy beard. “Ouch!” Casey cried. Finally Abdul broke the hold and swung around to face Casey, getting him in one of his killer headlocks. Once again, Casey was in trouble. But he managed to dig an elbow into Abdul’s groin. Abdul shouted and Casey pried himself free, stood, and turned. He lunged full weight at Abdul. Abdul was ready for him, grabbing his shoulders and shoving Casey’s face right into his and applying a submission hold. For a moment, they looked into each other’s eyes. Then Abdul drove Casey’s shoulders into the mat. “Ughhhh,” Casey moaned. Abdul had mounted him and was driving his elbow into his head. It was momentary. Casey flopped in his own sweat a moment, and then, with surprising swiftness, changed course, wrapping his hands behind Abdul’s neck and pulling him in toward his chest. He wrapped his legs tight around Abdul’s body and grunted as he started to gain control. Abdul and Casey slid around the mat, slipping out of each other holds as they tried desperately to get a submission out of each other. Suddenly, Casey managed to climb on Abdul’s back and slip his arm under his chin. His stiff cock slapped against his abs. “Shit!” Abdul yelled as Casey secured the choke. Casey squeezed harder. Suddenly Abdul was struggling to breathe. His face was beet red. And suddenly, it was over. Abdul slapped the mat furiously and Casey released his grip. He let out a whoop. He grabbed Abdul by the hair and lifted his head up, using his other arm to flex his biceps. Fast as a flash, Abdul grabbed his hand and twisted his wrist, ensuring Casey’s victory was a brief one – but it was too late. The image had been captured in the men’s brains. “Aweesummmm,” breathed Hension, once again, and to no one in particular. “Wait till I call it!” yelled Moster. “Fuck you,” said Abdul. He hunched back on his knees and locked Casey up in a kneeling position, pressing his slippery forehead into his and looking into his eyes. They panted for breath. Once again, as if alerted by a bugle charge, both suddenly sprang once again into action. Abdul managed to get a headlock on Casey and threw him to the mat. His cock slapped against his leg as Casey tried to turn to avoid getting pinned. Both were so sweaty and slick with the now hot oil that neither could get a good hold. The mat was an ocean of steaming sweat and oil, both men sliding in the mass of liquid. In the circle of chairs around the wrestling ring, the bodybuilders pumped their blood-engorged cocks feverishly. On the mat, Casey freed a hand and ripped Abdul’s singlet wide open. The Turk was enraged. His cock spilled onto the mat. Pedro leaned forward now openly licking his lips. “Please let us cum, sir!” pleaded Hension. “Okay…..guess I’ll play, too,” said Moster, studiedly lazily. He advanced into the center of the ring where the two muscle monsters lay, locked in sinew, sweat, and bronzed oil, their huge cocks flailing openly. “Men, why don’t you join me?” Moster smiled. He only had to ask once. In a heartbeat the 17 bodybuilders bolted from the chairs, clambering over one another and the rings to get to the center of the ring. Still, they waited breathlessly, cocks in hand, no one daring to make a further move. Abdul shot a look of helpless rage up to Moster, but Casey was holding him firm. Neither man could budge. squish squish squish squish GOOSH squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. And Moster unzipped. The largest black cock in the world poured out of his pants, flopping down to his knees. FLOPppp… In a second it was poled high, reaching nipple level. Moster grabbed it with his fist and slid his hands down it just three times. squish squish squish squish GOOSH squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. “I’m ready,” he said quietly. The bodybuilders circled the wrestlers, side by side. Casey stared at the huge, pendulous looming cocks above him, heavy dew drops of precum beginning to drip, oozing into the mass of mat liquid in which the two musclemen lolled in their struggles. It was as if it was the first time he had even noticed what the men were up to. “What are they doing??” he cried out to Moster. “What’s it look like, punk?” growled Abdul in his ear. Moster ignored him. “Pedro,” Moster invited graciously, “why don’t you get over here and join us?” Pedro didn’t have to be asked twice. He scampered gleefully into the circle, a little beautiful brown spot of handsome teenhood amidst a turbulent ocean of masturbating musclemen. He pulled out his own pretty little cock and began to pump fiercely, gleefully, staring hungrily at the huge muscle and looming penises all around him. After only a moment, he couldn’t stand being surrounded by the sea of cock without getting to his knees and starting to suck his way around the circle, feverishly. He started with Gunst, his pretty little mouth enveloping the massive organ. From the sidelines Dr. Irving began to walk rapidly behind the circle of men, panning his cam across the landscape of their solid glutes, huge, hard and round, squeezing and relaxing in tense, pumping cannonballs of butt muscle as they pumped their cocks feverishly. Backs of heads. Batwing lat spreads of knitted boulders of muscle. Delts touching. Hamstrings pounding with thick rivers of veins. Butts pumping. Irving got it all on cam. Someday he knew this video would be worth thousands….hundreds of thousands. He captured it all. From the mat below, Casey gazed up, exhausted and confused, bewildered and amazed at a sea of musclecock held high above him. Abdul merely growled. In a few seconds the waterfalls of cum would begin. He couldn’t admit to himself that he had wanted something like this to happen. “What’re they gonna do?” asked Casey, fearfully, muffled. Hmmmm, thought Moster as he pumped his organ. The white cap is wearing off. Probably from the match. If it was still in him, he’d have no problem. Still, it didn’t stop anything. The bodybuilders were groaning loudly now, pumping and flexing, rocking ball-toe-heel, their magnificently bodies undulating rhythmically. “Let ‘er rip!” Moster, now pumping furiously, looked to Dr. Irving, who had never stopped the video, nor moved. “You getting it all?” “Of course,” said Irving, irritated, shocked, perplexed and baffled as always - but never daring to shut down the cam. He could never understand what all this had to do with science, but never mind. He was well paid. “Muthafucker!” Hension screamed. “You boys about ready to shoot?” Moster asked. “Hang on. They ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” said Abdul. He squeezed Casey’s head as hard as he could. It wasn’t too long before Casey wriggled out of it and was on his hands and knees facing him. He came in at Abdul and tried to push him over onto his back, but the muscle Turk reached behind him and sunk his fingers right into Casey’s exposed anus. “WHAT THE FUCK!” Casey cried as Abdul used his rectum as a handle to flip him over. He slammed on his back on the mat. An ocean spray of sweat and oil sloshed into the air. And around them the squishing sounds of muscle jerking grew more frantic. “Oh, maaaaa—aaaan,” said Hension. “Hold off, men!” shouted Moster. "Santa mierda de Dios,” breathed Pedro, now frantically licking Obatu’s cock up and down its 12-inch length. Obatu’s pumping fist was punching him repeatedly in the nose. He didn’t care. He held the cock between his lips and sucked hard. Precum began to spurt down his throat. Squish squish squish UGH GROANNNN UGH UGH GROAN…. GOOOsh squish squish GOOOsh groannnn Ugh unnnghh squish squish squish squish squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. Casey and Abdul were in a mad final scramble now. Both knew the match was coming to an end. Abdul was enraged he somehow didn’t have the conditioning to go a full hour with Casey; it had only been 12 to 15 minutes in the ring, and no more – and he was wiped out. For his part, Casey was panting deeply and hot as a furnace, pushed to the max. And yet. And yet. Abdul knew Casey could outlast him. Casey, however much he might be forever on the bottom tonight, yet had a couple of hours of strength to go. It was only that he lacked the fighting technique Abdul had hard earned over the years. And this enraged the Turk. Abdul got behind Casey and sunk his arms between his legs, locking onto his other arm and driving his biceps into Casey’s balls. Abdul’s forearm pressed painfully against his thick penis. Casey couldn’t take it. He had to move, giving him enough space to maneuver. Dirty Turkish wrestling. Casey managed to get a “Fuck you”, but he was outclassed, totally helpless and defeated. “I gotta suck cock!” Lang shouted, and dove down in front of Alvarez. In a flash Alvarez’s meat was in his mouth, sluicing juicily down his throat. “Me too,” muttered Hension, who dropped down in front of Gunst. He bobbed and weaved with the mighty strokes Gunst was applying to his huge cock, ducking his head, trying to get his mouth around it. “Shit,” said Gunst. With his right hand he backhandedly smacked Hension’s face hard, grabbed the back of his head, clenched a handful of hair; with his left hand he clutched his cock and rammed it down Hension’s throat. Hension began to violently suck muscle giant’s firehouse cock while working his own and never taking his eyes off the grappling musclemen on the mat. Abdul had Casey’s legs now, lifting him up so Casey was upside down, sliding down Abdul’s back till his head hit the mat and he was facing his ass. His nose went right into Abdul’s exposed ass crack for a minute while the Turk kept tilting his head back to put pressure on Casey’s balls. But Casey rallied. Groaning, straining, working hard, he trapped Abdul’s head in a figure 4, squeezing his face right into his balls as he pinned him. “Yer so eager to see my cock, so get an eyeful of it now,” he hissed. Abdul tried to snarl back, but he could only groan. He was getting tired. And the muscleboy had hours of energy ahead of him. He could feel it. Moster had a hard time seeing if the Turk was pinned or not, the men were so wrapped up in an oily mass of muscled quads, rippling traps, batwing lats, boulder biceps, brick-like abs, pounding glutes, pounding feet, pounding fists, and bulging balls. But it wasn’t looking so good for the Turk. UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. The squad, now in deep sex frenzy, was by now beyond observing the details of combat. Blankenship and Waring had each dropped to their knees, sucking the heavy, veiny cocks of Chad and Washington. Schumacher grabbed Meyer, flipped him around, pulled down his khakis, and plunged his cock mercilessly into his welcoming butthole as the handsome deaf mute played gleefully with his engorged manhood. He began to fuck him with deep and powerful strokes. Meyer smiling ecstatically and waved his mighty butt under the cock blows. He reached back and pried his buttcheeks wide. His asshole was as open as he could get it. He spread his legs. Schumacher’s thick cock was in action, driving, pounding, fucking. Squish squish squish fuckfuckfuck UGH GROANNNN UGH UGH GROAN…. Moster could see where it was headed on the mat. Abdul had taken the first two pins. But Casey was just getting started. He was mad now. The effect of the white caps was weaving in and out, true, and Casey was responding as if he was on mushrooms. But his huge muscles were gleaming with power. Every vein was bursting. Sweat was pouring off both men. And Abdul was breathing hard. But he still had the upper hand. Still, Moster pumped harder. He had to admit: this was pretty hot. Pedro looked at him adoringly, moved to take Moster’s cock in his mouth. Moster pushed him back roughly. “Get away, son,” he barked. Pedro looked frightened and abashed. Moster smiled slightly, an eyebrow arched. “You being a bad boy? Might have to tan your hide later,” he murmured. Pedro looked hopeful but the fear still glistened slightly. He glanced down at Moster’s powerful fist, now stroking his massive meat up and down, up and down. “Your hand could kill my butt!” he squeaked. “Not your butt, little boy. Not yours. Now get out of my way. Go suck Private Duncan’s cock.” Moster tossed a glance at Duncan, who was busily working his dick. Pedro scampered away, ran to Duncan, and knelt before him. “The C.O. says I have to suck your cock,” he cried out, and gathered the mighty pole into his mouth. Duncan was startled. “Okay,” he said. “Don’t mind.” Pedro knelt and went right to work on Duncan’s massive tool. He was particularly excited by the latticework of heavy veins surrounding the muscleman’s member. He began to trace his finger along the thick rivers of vascularity as he sucked. Duncan spread his legs wide. He grabbed Pedro’s black hair in his fist and began to steadily pump his hips into the boy’s face. On the mat, more spent than he wanted to admit, Casey stared up at the circle of musclemen above and around him. Four of the musclemen were sucking musclecock now. The little Mexican teenager was scampering about sucking musclecocks as they were freed up. Schumacher was fucking the cute little muscleguy’s awesome glutes. The other 7 musclemen were straddling the mat edges now, massive quads akimbo, pumping serious cock. And the CO Sergeant Moster had his cock out, too. It was the biggest penis Casey had ever seen in his life. Even bigger than his own. Which was huge. As he stared, he lost focus. And in a flash, Abdul had flipped him again and was straddling his pecs with his own huge body and pressing for an advantage. Casey couldn’t move. The sounds of musclesex filled the wrestling room. On the sidelines, Dr. Irving was capturing it all on video. GOOOsh squish slurp suck suck slurp squish GOOOsh groannnn SUCKSUCK LICK SLURP fuckkkk Casey grunted. A surge of energy hit him. He tried a duck under, but Abdul kept the upper hand. As he went down to his knees on the mat, Casey kept his left arm welded to the Turk’s shoulder, pulling out to his side and anchoring his right hand deep in his anus. “Turkish rules, right?” Casey snarled into Abdul’s ear, beginning to chew on the lobe. He was back in control again. The Turk let out a short gasp as he felt Casey’s index finger work up into his asshole, a big grin on his face. Abdul wanted to smash those perfect teeth in, but he was too busy trying to pry the muscle giant kid’s finger out of his butthole. With a sudden rush of White Cap adrenaline, Casey moved his right arm around Abdul’s waist, mounted him and broke him down so his belly was flat on the mat. He managed a gut wrench and turned him over once, but he was too tough and was able to counter Casey’s leverage with his strength. Moster knew he had to step in. He couldn’t afford to have Abdul so badly defeated. Not yet. Not at the outset of Casey’s career. Sure, Casey Rockland was a muscle outlier. There may never have been a muscleman like him before, and there may not be another again. But it was too soon for the legend to emerge. For the good of the program, Casey had to lose tonight. And it didn’t look as if he was going to. So Moster did the one thing he could do, to save Abdul’s neck. Moster blew the whistle and reached in. He grabbed them both by the scruffs of their necks and powerfully brought them up to their knees. Casey was stunned, dizzy, swirling with confusion and excitement and pain and frenzy all at once. Abdul’s rage was huge but not huge enough to allow his own massive tool to go limp. Both muscle monsters were sporting huge erections. And the men around them were pumping and sucking and fucking furiously. Ugh unnnghh groan moan slurp suck squish squish squish slurp suck suck squish squish squish AH AHH AHHHHHH yeah yeah yeah UNNNGHHHH AAAAHHHHHH!!!! Moster stepped forward, grabbed his mighty cock, knelt down next to the knotted figures of muscle, and began to shoot cum in the Turk’s face. SPURT! BLAST!! AAAHHH YEAH!!! Gallons of gobs of white creamy cum shot maniacally from his deeply creased piss slit. And the biggest cock in the world, on the biggest bodybuilder in the world, began to throb and spurt hot liquid rivers of jism onto the Turk’s face. “FUCKING HELL!” roared Abdul. ‘GODDAMN YOU MOSTER!!!” And the cum spilled, coating his roaring face, filling his mouth and nostrils, dripping down his chin. Moster was aiming it, like a firehose. “On the Turk, men!” he shouted. And with that…all hell let loose.

Hello, all...here is the long-awaited Wrestling Chapter......to catch up where you were before, I highly recommend you look at the other chapters first..... Links to other chapters: "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / A Brief History of Casey Rockland / Miles Donovan's Gym "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 6 - Casey is Discovered at Miles Donovan's Gym "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Pt. 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale, Continued / The Men Hit the Showers "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11 - Casey Meets the Muscle Squad Precis: Valhalla Labs is a remote mountaintop Northern California military facility, overseen by genius muscle growth scientist Dr. Ira Zaftig and CO Staff Sergeant Rod Moster, a 7'-0" ripped and hung 395-pound black muscle giant. There, 18 extraordinary bodybuilder-soldiers live, train, and play together, overseen by Moster's strict rules and brutal regimen for muscular perfection. Known as Project Herculaneum, the men serve as Dr. Zaftig's lab rats, receiving regular injections of P-21, a specially developed enzyme that facilitates muscle and strength growth in the very few bodybuilders whose systems can withstand it. The goal: to create an army of supermen, whose strength, size, and combat skills are unparalleled in the modern military. Unfortunately for the Project, the soldiers' enhanced strength and dramatically increased muscular size is accompanied by a corresponding increase in priapic size as well, along with a rapidly diminishing sense of social restraint and inhibitions. And along the way, the men's extraordinary physiques prompt their own extreme muscle fantasies into a daily acting-out sexual reality. Into the mix comes young Casey Rockland, a lonely, handsome, super-hung 18-year old bodybuilding giant. Inducted by Dr. Zaftig into the top-secret government muscle strength and growth project, Casey comes to learn the ropes amongst the muscle giants, whose hunger for hardcore training is matched only by their sexual appetites and growing fantasies, including their insatiable need to receive muscle worship. Casey's innocence, simplicity, and his growing need to receive both love and muscle worship threaten the very core of the decade-long Project, itself only now approaching its full potential. THE TWENTY A Government Issue Adult Cartoon -XXX- Muscle Fantasy By Joey Silverado This book is dedicated to Tiny Yokum – and to all his fans, past, present, and future. Chapter 12: Part 1 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match Five minutes later, Karim Abdul was striding down the corridor, pecs bouncing, headed for the wrestling room. Still carrying his clothes from Casey’s presentation, he was now dressed only in his red Lycra wrestling singlet. His step was deliberate, his gait powerful. As he walked he grumbled to himself, ignoring the low clamor of the rest of muscle squad, who followed eagerly behind. His cock, loose in the singlet, swayed heavily from side to side as he walked, his balls pushed forward. “Asswipe kid.” The rest of his thoughts were a little too vague for words. Thoughtlessly he grabbed his cock and got it momentarily out of the way of his quads, pumping as he walked. Most of the squad was keeping a good 20 yards of distance between themselves and Karim Abdul. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of a wild Abdul punch at this moment. Even Schumacher, McIntyre, and Duncan, men who could well defend themselves and were used to Abdul’s occasional wild swings, were keeping themselves at a cautious distance. Karim knew he had to mark his territory. Now, tonight, and fast. No questions asked. Leaving nothing to second-guessing. After all, even he had to admit it - this kid was fucking unbelievable. He was huge, he was cut, he was raw, he was handsome, he was young, he was unbelievably hung. And at only 18 years of age, he was still growing. Karim wouldn’t rest until he’d smashed the kid’s handsome face into the mat. And maybe pissed in his mouth, too. Something. Something like that. Yeah. Show him who was in charge. But - it was all – well, a little unformed. Even to him. He passed the door leading to the back of the kitchen. He bashed the door open with his fist, smashing the frame and cracking the thick glass. Inside, Pedro, Abdul’s handsome little kitchen cocksucking buttboy, was sweeping up. “Your ass in the wrestling room. Bring that 10-pound canister of olive oil. MOVE!!! NOW!” commanded Abdul. Pedro jumped a mile. Then Abdul was gone, continuing on down the corridor. Pedro immediately put the broom away, washed his hands - his musclegod demanded clean fingernails - climbed up a little ladder to one of the shelf larders, and grabbed a 10 gallon jug of olive oil. Carrying it with some difficulty, he nevertheless darted out the door and ran excitedly after Abdul. "Wait for me!" the eager boy squeaked. He was about to get an awesome muscle show. Maybe suck some massive cock. Wow! Further ahead, Abdul was a man on a mission. And coming up behind him and running by was Private Tiffany. Abdul didn’t like that asswipe, either. Great glutes, though. Perfect glutes. Big, hard, striated boulders. Yeah. Fuckable. Most inviting. He’d fuck the little asswipe’s butt one day and then push his face in the toilet. Yeah. He continued on, paying little notice, though he did allow himself a quick, cool glance at the muscleboy’s rolling, muscular boybutt as he scampered by. From the corridor somewhere behind Abdul, Schumacher was shouting to Tiffany. “Where you going?” he demanded to know. “Getting Dr. Irving!” “Who?” Tiffany turned back, running backwards, explaining patiently as if to a child. “The dude with the camera. Ever notice him? Probably not…” He waved Schumacher off with easy, grinning contempt, turned back and scooted happily up the corridor towards Dr. Irving’s office. Schumacher swore to himself. He had to acknowledge he had no idea who Tiffany was talking about. He rarely noticed the lab workers or other doctors, barely paying attention to even Dr. Zaftig himself. He returned his gaze to Karim, striding purposefully up the hall ahead of him. Karim Abdul’s rocky man glutes rumbled darkly as he walked, and Schumacher gazed into the impenetrable deep butt crack outlined in the red Lycra. Excepting only the cloaked, anonymous butt fucking nights, no one other than powerfucker Schumacher had yet penetrated Karim’s magnificent asshole. Ever. “At least I have that much,” Schumacher muttered. By now he was passing the open office door. Tiffany, his back to the corridor, was hurriedly explaining to some geeky lab coat doctor who Schumacher had never noticed before, saying something about Get the camera out, asshole, and Come with me now…. Schumacher paused for a moment in the office doorway to admire Tiffany’s butt sweep in his tight regulation khakis. His full, hard, rounded glutes were a most enticing display in his slacks, the rear pockets rounded with the curvature of pure muscle, promising the pleasures that lay beneath. Joe Tiffany Now there was a butt to fuck. He grunted and continued down the corridor, following Karim. In truth he didn’t know why he was heading off with the others to the wrestling ring, and especially at this hour. He should be headed off to bed, a quick JO instant replay of the group shower suck / group butt lick he’d enjoyed just 40 minutes earlier, and then plenty of shuteye for another brutal workout tomorrow. That was the life. And another day to plan on getting into Tiffany’s butt. Another day to strategize some deep cock / muscleboybutt frottage sessions. Another day to – “Hey, Schumacher.” It was McIntyre. “Where you going? This way.” He’d walked right past the wrestling room door. “Oh.” He retraced his steps. As he came back, a little sheepishly, Alvarez and Lang were in the doorway. Lang’s tongue was practically lolling out of his head in anticipation, and even cool customer Alvarez had an excited gleam in his eye. “What do you assholes think is gonna happen?” snarled Schumacher as he strode by, pushing past them into the wrestling room. Alvarez put his hands up in mock defensiveness. “Oh, nothing, nothing. We just thought we might want to watch.” “Yeah, we wanna watch nothing happen,” smirked Lang. Both men mockingly bowed as Schumacher went by, Alvarez of course taking the lead, with puppydog Lang following suit. Schumacher glanced down at their packed flies bulging out of their khakis as he strode by. “You both sure got big enough hard-ons, just to watch nothing happen.” Lang looked defensive. Alvarez just laughed, and gently patted Lang’s growing bulge. “Yeah, guess we do.” He nodded and winked, and went inside the wrestling room. Lang followed, and even had the temerity to wink at Schumacher as he went by. Alvarez threw his arm around Lang and playfully squeezed his ass. Faggots, thought Schumacher. His own cock roared to life in his pants and was soon poling straight out and upward. He glanced back down the corridor. Moster and Casey were rounding the corner. Moster had changed out of his sweats, and was now in the regulation Valhalla Labs green t-shirt and tight khakis. Casey still had only his micro posing trunks on. Behind them scurried Dr. Irving, carrying Casey’s sweats and his video equipment. He was babbling on his cellphone. Probably talking to the insane dude who ran the place. Zaftig. Moster noted the ruined kitchen door and sighed. “Another door,” he grumbled. These dudes, when they got pissed off. It’s not like Valhalla Labs was a bottomless money source. Close, but not bottomless. He nodded at Schumacher and gestured briefly for him to go into the wrestling room ahead of them. Schumacher scowled, but did as he was directed. “Dr. Irving?” “Yes, Sergeant Moster?” Irving scurried to catch up to them. “Do you have a white cap on you?” “Why…yes….” Moster knew he would. The little doctor had long since learned that anything could happen when the men gathered, and he made it a point to carry extra medication with him at all times. And there was no sense in irritating Moster with a “Why, no.” He wouldn’t put it past the giant black muscle monster to deck him with one mighty punch in the nose if displeased, which would no doubt kill him. He scrambled and produced a small medication bottle. Moster turned to Casey, struggling a little to keep up, halfway between a walk and a run, his black shiny micro poser barely covering his steadily bobbing cock as he ran. “Here,” said Moster. “Take this.” “Hunh?” Casey stopped full. “Take it. Don’t ask questions.” “What—what is it?” “Extra confidence.” “Drugs?” Casey was momentarily stumped. He remembered that the boys in the Home were always experimenting. It made them silly and weak. He wanted no part of it. “I don’t do drugs.” Moster motioned to Irving. “Go on and set up, we’ll meet you there.” He turned to Casey. “It’s not a drug. Not like you think.” “I don’t do no steroids, neither.” “Not a ‘roid. There is no man in this facility on the juice. We have to do something about your grammar, by the way.” “Then how –“ “Shut up and take it. I will explain later. You will be fine.” Casey gulped, put his faith in Moster, and did as he was told. He popped the pill in his mouth, and smiled with weak subservience at Moster. “Okay, sir.” “What was that?” “I..I mean, Yes, Sir!” “That’s better.” Moster turned and continued down the corridor, Casey scampering after him. Good thing the men still do what I tell them to do, thought Moster. And how long is that gonna last with this boy? Once he finds his power? Moster tucked that thought away. “Let’s go watch you wrestle. You do wrestle, you said?” “Yeah, but I’m scared…” “No need to be.” “…no..…scared I’ll hurt him. I always do….” Except, of course, Ramon Ramon, the much smaller wrestler at Raw Weight Gym who never failed to thoroughly pin the muscleboy. But of course, that was a long time ago. Inside the wrestling room Karim had already snapped on the overhead lights and was doing deep knee bends in the middle of the 20 sq foot wrestling ring, which dominated the center of the room. The thick blue mat of the ring gleamed in the overhead lights, with the VALHALLA LABS logo in the center. Around the ring on two raised platforms were about 40 folding chairs, all affording perfect, elevated views of any wrestling action. Pedro stood eagerly on the side, now holding towels and a water bottle. “Getting limbered up to better meet the kid?” called out Blankenship. He had already grabbed his ringside seat, he too adjusting his crotch as he sat. “Shut the fuck up,” said Karim, squatting. To Pedro he shot out, “Where the fuck is the oil? Get the oil.” Pedro shot off into a storage room and returned with a 5-gallon jug of olive oil. “Goin’ for Turkish wrestling, hunh, Karim?” Chad was grabbing a seat ringside. He nudged Waring. “This is gonna be good.” No answer from Karim. “The kid’s got an iron grip, I’m told,” called out Waring, nudging Eli Meyer’s ribs as he took a seat next to him. Meyer’s mouth hung open in a perennial smile. He pointed to his mouth so Meyer could read his lips. “I said, Casey Rockland’s got an iron grip.” “I heard you.” Obatu was next, leaning against the ropes. “And those quads be killers. He gets you in a lock hold, you gonna be dead in the water. What’re ya gonna do about that, Mr. Abdul, sir?” Karim didn’t answer, regarding them all stonily. Obatu lazily returned his gaze, smiling, unintimidated. Blankenship had started this. But Blankenship had easily dodged the intended receiving end of a few near-miss wild roundhouse punches in the past. He was too fast and too alert to be caught unawares, and Karim Abdul had learned not to waste his energy on him. So Karim suffered the men’s ready comments stoically. “This kid got veins like this?” he asked, flexing his 25-inch biceps, showing off half-inch thick rivers of veins, pulsing with power. “Yeah, I think, actually, he does,” said Blankenship with a smile. “Here he is now. Let’s see. Kid, you got veins like his?” Moster and Casey had appeared at the opposite door, the darkened end of the wrestling room. Both giants approached, in black silhouette against the framed light from the corridor, getting larger as they quietly walked toward the ring. Casey looked up quizzically at the question. “Flex your biceps,” whispered Moster. “Hunh?” “Flex, man. Don’t ask stupid questions. Flex it up. Now.” “ ’kay.” Casey stopped and hammered out a front double bi. 25 inches of his own, in response to Abdul. As always, he felt compelled to go on, adding side chest, front lats, quads, and sent a hand probingly down rippled, hardrock abs. “That good?” “Good, good,” muttered Moster. “You catch on fast. You ever compete, kid?” “Uh…..no……should I? Other guys are so much bigger than me….” Moster smiled. They all think that, at the beginning. “Get over here, plebe,” Abdul called out from the center of the ring. Pedro was standing on a stool, pouring the olive oil over his massive physique, worshipfully slathering him up. Casey in Silhouette Casey stared. “What’s all that….?” he stammered. Moster noted that the white cap hadn’t taken effect yet, but then it had only been a few minutes. “Now, Karim,” said Moster patiently, coming into the light as they approached the ring. “You know Casey is not a plebe.” Abdul started to speak. “Nor is he a cadet. He is now one of you. He makes us The Twenty. You need to accept this,” he continued, walking and speaking easily now as he pulled up the ropes and stepped into the wrestling ring. He approached the angry giant muscle Arab. “And he isn’t threatening you. Casey isn’t going to pull your power away from you.” “That’s not what this is about.” “Bullshit,” one of the men yelled. The others laughed. Abdul glared at them and went on. “Whatever you say, Sergeant Moster, sir,” said Abdul. “I just want to make sure he’s going to be worth my time to train with.” He smiled easily. “That’s all.” The oil was dripping off him onto the mat. Moster said nothing. Casey was now visibly nervous. Still outside the ropes, he leaned in to Moster. “They gonna reject me?” he whispered loudly. “I mean, now?” “No one’s rejecting you,” said Moster loudly. He then turned to the waiting group of musclemen. “Are you, boys?” Something about that ‘boys’ rankled Abdul even further, though Alvarez and Gunst just smiled. The others looked perplexed. “Since when are we boys?” squealed Hension. “Shut up, Hension,” said Chad. “You ever wrestle, boy?” Abdul called out. “His name is Casey. Or Private Rockland.” “I asked you a question, boy. Ever wrestled? Get your butt into the ring.” “You really want all this oil?” sighed Moster. “We’re gonna wrestle Turkish style.” “It’s messy.” “I’ll clean it up, sir!” squeaked Pedro. “Bet your ass you will.” “Yeah, you don’t want a spanking, now, do you?” yelled Lang. He adjusted in his chair, his glutes still smarting from the paddling he’d received earlier that evening. Moster’s cock twitched a little at the suggestion of paddling handsome young Pedro’s hard, receiving little boybutt, a pleasure he had not yet allowed himself, although the teenage boy’s firm little butt cheeks had always been particularly inviting in his kitchen whites. He ignored it for now, however. Later, he thought. Casey shot a look at Moster. “What’s this about spankings?” he asked. Moster ignored the question. “Get in there.” “Yes, sir.” Casey climbed obediently into the ring. Moster watched him closely. The white cap should be taking effect in a moment…. “Oil him up,” commanded Abdul. Pedro ran over to him with the stool and the olive oil, climbed up, and began to pour it all over Casey’s massive physique. The sheer size and beauty of his muscles was overwhelming to the little Mexican, and his own powerful little cock began to bulge in his pants. After a moment, Casey was drenched in the shiny, thick liquid. The two musclemen stood face to face, Abdul in his tight singlet, fearsome muscles gleaming in the light, looming with threatening power. Casey was still in his micro, bulging posers, wet now with slick oil, the top 6 inches of his massive, meaty cockshaft fully exposed, blond tendrils of pubic hair curling with thick radiance. He was embarrassed, humiliated that his huge penis was twitching outwards in anticipation of what-was-coming-next. But then he noticed – Abdul’s oily, pylon-thick tool was also clearly coming to life in the thin singlet. “Good. Now, you got some mighty fancy muscles. But that doesn’t mean much here. We all got fancy muscles.” “You’re not being very polite, Corporal Abdul, “ said Moster, moving to the sidelines. “I think the men ought to introduce themselves before we get into any personal demonstrations of our manhood. Don’t you agree?” Even the ever-present log in lying against Moster’s pants leg was firmly outlined and appeared to be twitching a little, and the thin khaki fabric of his slacks covering it was now smooth and tight. Slowly the 17 others bodybuilders rose from their seats around the ring, one by one. 38 pairs of eyes stared at Casey intently. He glanced at the cocky little Joe Tiffany, and then over at Corporal Schumacher, who was now looking at him expectantly. “Okay, now, boy. This is Turkish wrestling. There are clear rules, but they’re different from American collegiate.” “Hang on,” said Moster. “We’ll get to the Turkish rules of wrestling in a moment. He stepped into the ring and approached Casey, now thick and dripping with oil. The men were now gathered on two sides of the ring, leaning on the ropes, leaning in to see what was coming next. For any other cadet introduced into the ranks, Sergeant Moster would have generally proceeded to paddle Casey’s hard young butt as the formal ritual of initiation. Last had been Private Tiffany receiving the red-hot butt cheek welcome, which he had borne stoically and proudly, displaying the twin globes of burnt-cherry perfection under the paddling. And after all, they had all gone through it, excepting Abdul, of course. Even Schumacher had known the firm, unrelenting hand of Moster on his butt. Hazing was hazing. But tonight, that didn’t seem to be happening. Abdul’s interesting wrestling challenge has precluded that. All were watchful. “Men, introduce yourselves. I was going to do this tomorrow, at Casey’s first workout, but now seems as good a time as any.” He turned to Casey and smiled. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to remember all their names just yet,” he added. “That’s good. I’m not very good with names.” “You’ll know them all, in time.” One by one, each man introduced himself. “My name is Private Leo Jin,” said the Asian man. “I’m 25 and from San Diego. I have been in the Project 8 years. My best bodypart is my forearms.” To prove it, the handsome Asian brought his beefy, fetchingly oversized forearms, walloping with solid muscle and veins, and squeezed the muscles hard. “I’m Private Dan Gunst, and until today, I had the biggest biceps here – except for Sergeant Moster’s.” Gunst flexed his mighty guns and then gave Casey a half-cocked smile. “Guess yours are bigger,” he proffered, respectfully. “I saw that this afternoon.” Moster glanced at him questioningly. “Oh, yeah,” he added. “I’m from Milwaukee, I’m 27, and I have been in the program 3 years. Hi, Casey. Welcome again.” “Hi, Dan!” Gunst sat back down. Moster eyed Casey carefully, wondering when the little capsule might take effect. Casey seemed cheerful and happy. Around the circle they went, each muscleman getting to his feet, politely introducing himself, offering basic information, and then showing him his best bodypart. “I’m Steve Waring, and my best bodypart is my traps.” Bulge. Flex. Steve Waring “I’m Rene LeFevre, and my best bodypart are my pecs.” Surge. Bloom. Bulge. “I’m David Duncan, and my best bodypart are my triceps.” Rip. Bulge. Bloom. Flex. “I’m Schumacher.” He said nothing else but grudgingly offered a front lat spread. Casey nodded without expression. This guy was not to be messed with. Eli Meyer signed with ASL. Casey nodded, showing some intelligence. Moster was pleased. Then Meyer turned around, bent over, grabbed his ankles, and showed off his hams, bulging through the khakis. He turned back and Casey gave him the OK and thumbs up sign. “I’m Chris Hension, and my best bodypart – “ “Is my FACE!” shouted Corporal LeFevre. “I’m a refugee from a lost episode of ’21 Jump Street’!” “Smack me around a little and I’ll follow you forever!” added Chad. “He’s our little boyband musclepup,” explained Blankenship. “Shut up,” yelled Hension, visibly embarrassed once again to be labeled the squad pretty boy. All the men were laughing now. “My best body part is my quads.” He started to rotate them. “And my baby blue eyes,” shouted LeFevre again. Hension was confused and humiliated but continued to show his quads, blooming in his tight khakis. “I think it’s his butt!” said Waring. “It’s okay, Chris,” said Casey. “Your quads are awesome.” Hension looked up, hopefully, and Casey felt compelled to go on. “And I think you’re very handsome indeed.” Hension smiled hugely at Casey, his heart beating a little faster. Gee, he thought. Wow. He gazed at Casey, who was now turning his attention to Private Waring. “I’m Private Ryan Waring, and my best bodypart are my delts.” He extended a powerful arm and began to rotate it. Suddenly Hension spoke up again. “I’m 22,” he blurted out, “and I’m from Toledo!” The men laughed again, and Hension hung his head a little and stuck out his lower lip. Next to him, Chad patted his thigh comfortingly. Casey saw him wink at Hension, who straightened up a little and smiled weakly. Casey’s head was spinning. He was inspired past all understanding by the mind-boggling panorama of muscle before him. And he was part of it. About then, he noticed that the room seemed to be getting a little brighter and a little hotter. He was staring again at Moster’s leg log. “Private Lang,” said Lang. “I’m 28, I’m from Lansing, Michigan, and….” He looked a little helplessly at Alvarez, sitting next to him. “My best body part is……um….” “Your back. Your lats are your best body part,” said Alvarez with quiet encouragement. “Yeah, I guess it’s my lats.” He turned and flared his lats wide. Alvarez clapped him approvingly on his butt. Lang smiled and sat, and Alvarez got up. “I’m Corporal Julio Alvarez, I’m 32, I’m from El Paso, and my best bodypart are my biceps.” He flexed. “Gunst’s are bigger but mine have sick peaks.” He popped them back and forth. “See?” Casey was indeed impressed. “Nice. Sick.” Gunst yelled in good-humored protest and flexed his own guns. Casey looked between Alvarez and Lang. Alvarez glanced over at Lang. “No, we’re not related,” he said. “They’re just joined at the wrist and ankles,” called out Gunst. “More like mouth and cock,” muttered Blankenship loudly, winking at Casey. It was Private Tiffany’s turn. “Casey and I will be meeting privately soon,” he boasted, and made a show of wiping the corner of his lips with his index finger. The men laughed knowingly – all but Corporal Schumacher, who looked down into his lap and seethed a little. Moster watched him intently. Something has to be done about Tiffany. But he didn’t worry. Though Tiffany didn’t know it yet, something was already happening. Casey felt a touch flushed, but his head was suddenly amazingly clear. Suddenly he spoke. “And what’s your best bodypart?” he asked. The stammer was gone, but only Moster noticed it. “What do you think?” Joe Tiffany turned around, bent over and grabbed his ankles. He pulled his gym shorts tight at the crack of his butt and proudly displayed his magnificent bodybuilder glutes. “Cupcakes!” said Gunst gleefully. The men howled. Schumacher made a show of laughing, but all he could do was glare. “Wow,” said Casey calmly. “Very pretty.” Tiffany's Butt after Squats Moster smiled inwardly. Good. He’s responded. And this boy responds well to White Caps, he thought. “No one’s had it yet,” said Tiffany confidingly as he straightened up and turned around, tucking his t-shirt back into his shorts. Then he winked. “Except in group.” “Group?” Casey was obviously perplexed. The men shouted with laughter, which died down sheepishly as, looking around the room, each man eventually shrugged and acknowledged it was probably true. None of them had had Tiffany yet. “I haven’t, anyway,” grumbled Schumacher, and the men laughed again. Tiffany sat back down and ignored Schumacher’s look. “Too bad,” said Casey. “Shame to waste such a pretty little behind.” The laughter died down and the men stared at Casey. No one knew what to say. “What’s ‘group’?” repeated Casey. Silence. On the sidelines, Alvarez raised his head a little. He exchanged looks with Moster. White cap? he mouthed. Moster looked away. Alvarez smiled and leaned in. He nudged Lang in the ribs. “Ow,” said Lang. “This is gonna be good,” said Alvarez in a low voice. “And I’m Karim Abdul. My best bodypart? My whole fucking physique is my best bodypart. As you are about to find out.” He flexed, whipping through pose after pose, his heavy cock bulge, dripping with oil, whipping left to right in his wrestling singlet. Snap. Snap. Snap. Casey could hear it slapping against his thighs through the man’s singlet. “All very impressive,” said Casey, looking pointedly at it. Moster smiled again. The cap had taken effect. “Okay. Turkish wrestling. Rules. One: there are few rules.” Abdul ticked off the rules on his fingers. “Submission: the “crush.” A fighter can get his opponent onto his stomach and then trap him by sprawling on top. If I can keep you down with your face, I can then turn you on a half-nelson for a pin.” “What if you can’t do it?” asked Casey bluntly. “If I can’t crush you, the referee has to begin us again from a standing position.” He ticked off another finger and looked Casey right in the eye. “I am not restricted from placing my hands inside my opponent’s kispet…” “Hunh?” “Your poser. I can also use the waistband to hold you in place. If I yank your poser so far below your hips that you are exposed, I win. Okay. If I can lift you entirely off the ground … “Fat fucking chance.” “Whoa,” breathed Hension. The temperature in the room seemed to raise 15º. Abdul paused, tense, and continued. “…and carry you five paces in any direction, that is a “carrying” pin. Got it?” “Yep.” “Okay.” Abdul looked at Casey. “You wanna go?” “What are we waiting for?” “Let’s wrestle,” said Abdul. He clapped his hands together and strode into the center of the ring. Ever since the mention of ‘group’, Abdul had been a touch shaky – or so Moster thought. Still can’t acknowledge how much he likes musclebutt. To say nothing of getting pissed on,” thought Moster. “Sure thing,” Casey answered, slick with oil and now quietly confident. Pedro scampered to the side of the ring and squatted eagerly to watch. Abdul began to bounce around, heel-toe, heel-toe, flexing his fingers, stretching his arms behind his head, limbering up. “Let’s go, man.” “You got it, man.” Casey hunkered down. “Center of the ring, gents,” said Moster. The men began to circle one another. “You wrestle till one of you gets a pin,” Moster instructed, now in the ring and getting between them. Casey flexed his biceps. “Big peaks, man. Like ‘em?” “Seen bigger,” said Abdul. He crunched forward, did a most muscular, his veins popping like railroad tracks. “How ‘bout you? Like what you see, faggot?” he asked. Casey just smiled, hunkered lower. Abdul palmed the crotch of his singlet. Casey smiled and refused to look down. He grabbed his own crotch, pendulously looming in his bulging posers. “Big handful, man.” “Watch it, boys,” said Moster. “This is a friendly get-to-know-you match.” “I already know him,” said Abdul. Moster snapped his fingers to Dr. Irving, now on the unpopulated side of the mat and with his ever-present video camera whirring. He dug in the pocket of his white lab jacket, wordlessly tossing him a whistle. Casey and Abdul met each other in the center of the mat and stared one another down. Their noses touched. Abdul grinned, ear to ear. Casey followed suit. Both began to gleam with anticipatory sweat. “Wow…..” breathed Hension. His hand shot down into his pants and he began massaging his stiffening tool. Moster pushed the two apart and blew his whistle to start the match. “And……wrestle!!” CLICK HERE FOR PART 2!

Check out part 1 here: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2716-the-construction-projectthe-sexual-chemistrywhos-worshipping-who/(last story listed) The Construction Project sequel: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/4583-constructing-more-projects-and-building-bigger-men-muscle-genie/?hl=worship The Sexual Chemistry sequel: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/3717-the-scene-stealer-more-sexual-chemistry-muscle-genie/?hl=%2Bthe+%2Bscene+%2Bstealer After dumping load after load inside Caleb, Dorian finally stops and pulls his cock out of the smitten bottom to take a breather. The smooth bodybuilder turns around to give his hairy partner a huge bearhug before burying his head in his huge furry pecs. Dorian bounces them for him a few times to make Caleb moan loudly. The hairy stud loves every minute of it as he holds him in his massive arms. As he does this, he comes up with a great idea. ‘Hey Caleb…..perhaps we could invite someone to come here and join us? Not necessarily someone that is quite as big, but rather someone we could dominate. I have a friend that would be perfect for this. He won’t recognize me I know because the last time he saw me, I wasn’t this hairy.’ Caleb laughs and agrees that it would be a lot of fun to play around with a smaller guy. Dorian gets down on the ground and finds his cell phone lying beside the tattered fabric of what used to be his clothes. He grabs it and stands back up to dial the number of his close friend Joel, whom he has known for several years from when they were in school together. He hands the phone over to Caleb who seems really surprised that he would just give him the phone. Joel answers. ‘Hello? I don’t recognize this number, who is this?’ Caleb clears his throat and tells him that he needs his help in searching for Dorian and that he went to school with him back when they were kids. Joel asks what his name is and wants to know why he needs his help in finding Dorian. After a few minutes of back and forth, Joel finally agrees that he will meet him at the hotel, but that it would take probably an hour for him to get there since he is not in the same area. Caleb tells him that he will wait an hour then and hands the phone back to Dorian who hangs up. The two men laugh knowing that this could end up being a complete waste of time but that they have to try it just to see if it works. Dorian tells Caleb that he will have to find something to wear since he is without clothes. The smooth stud says that he can use his extra pair of posers and his leather pants and shirt that are sitting in his car. He grabs a pair of his shorts on the floor to put on and goes down to get them while Dorian goes into the bathroom to clean up a bit. After about thirty minutes, the hairy stud hears a knock on the door and goes to answer it. He peers through the hole in the door and gets a weird look on his face. For some reason, Caleb is smiling and directing his eyes to his left. ‘Ummm okay…..Caleb why don’t you just come back in man.’ ‘Heh well…..our guest seems to have arrived a bit early it seems. I actually ran into him down in the parking lot and he pretty much figured that I was the guy on the phone the way I described myself to him. I let him know that I found you and that you were waiting up here in the room. He was a bit apprehensive, but he agreed to come up.’ ‘Ohh *smiles* well then come on in.’ Dorian opens the door as Caleb rushes in and throws the leather outfit at the hairy man’s torso and motions for him to rush into the bathroom to put it on. He holds Joel back for a few seconds before letting him inside. The slightly overweight, but remarkably sexy biracial man enters and looks around in disbelief. He turns to look at Caleb and seems really irritated. ‘I know I just saw someone run into the bathroom. I saw their hairy ass bouncing as they closed the door.’ Caleb laughs a little before putting his hands on Joel’s shoulders trying to hold him in place. ‘I know, I know. He is wanting to surprise you I think. He apparently had a crush on you in school and just wanted to show you what he looks like now.’ The nervous man goes to sit on the bed while Caleb stands by the door. Joel looks at him and studies the huge man’s chest before scanning the bulge in the big guy’s shorts. Caleb smiles and makes it bounce a few times before crossing his arms and making the veins pulse and jump. The bathroom door opens and Dorian walks out in what is a skin tight leather shirt and the pants that his smooth skinned worship partner let him borrow. His cock is completely visible in the leather as it sits off to the side in them. Joel turns and looks completely shocked staring at Dorian’s bloated frame. He gulps a few times before looking into the hairy stud’s eyes. ‘I uhhhh…..I don’t know what to say. You can’t be Dorian Ames because he looks nothing like you. Of course…..I would have to see your upper body to know for sure.’ Dorian grins and walks over to him to stand in front of his face. He bounces his pecs and flexes his abs making each one protrude through the leather. Joel reaches out and pulls the shirt up to expose the hairy forest in between each abdominal. He sighs before running his hands up below both pecs and moans feeling the round edges of them. The sweat seems to be pouring quite a bit from his head now. Caleb walks over and stands next to Joel by the bed and grabs one of his hands to put it on his cock. ‘Uhhh guys……*seems very uncomfortable but won’t stop feeling them both* I’m not sure this is such a good idea. I am feeling kind of funny…..’ Joel lets out a few groans before Caleb and Dorian hear several pops coming from the man’s beefy body. Each time he breathes in and out, it looks like he is swelling which catches the eye of both musclemen. His dress shirt which hung loosely on him just a minute ago is looking a bit snug as the muscles in his chest and arms start to protrude from the layers of fat that once covered them. His legs stretch the fabric in his pants to its limits making a sound that the two big men have never heard before. Joel’s hands widen as he continues to caress both men. Caleb feels each finger thicken against his cock making him sigh as a stream of precum goes flowing down his leg. The growing biracial man feels his mind wandering as the hand on Dorian’s chest reaches for his leather shirt and completely yanks it off his body. Joel’s feet explode from his shoes as his pants rip open revealing his bloated cinnamon quads and round calves. They are not defined, but rather thick and immense. Joel’s back finally busts through the back of his shirt as the huge ripples and valleys that are making up his delts and lower back continue to expand. He grunts feeling his lats, traps, and shoulders swelling bigger on his frame as he looks down at the two inflating mountains filling in what was once deflated moobs. He roars as they bust through the front as every button goes flying around the room. His gut flops for a few seconds before it hardens and stretches to accommodate the huge abdominals sitting just below the many layers of fat. He finally pulls his hands away from the two men to get up from the bed to try to contain himself. His shirt is in tatters now as he pulls it off revealing his incredibly powerful upper body. His head is now reacting as his head expands and his neck stretches wider. Caleb pulls his own shorts off right before he launches several ropes of cum into the air. Dorian follows suit as he tries to yank his leather pants off. Joel’s final phase occurs when his flabby glutes triple in size and rip out the back of his boxers. The two men gasp staring at his incredibly huge brown ass. The now impressive Joel finally says something. ‘OHH FUCK! *very powerful voice* I feel…..fucking awesome! *feels his crotch growing* OHH FUCK YEAH!’ The sound of tearing fabric radiates from Joel’s crotch as his swelling balls and growing cock finally break free. Caleb and Dorian look down and stare intensely as his ballsac stretches to accommodate the two huge golf balls now inhabiting it. His cock swells and stretches several times before it finally unleashes a river of cum that coats the wall directly in front of him. He yells in delight before reaching down and ripping the remainder of his pants off. When he arrived at the hotel room, Joel was just a slightly overweight man who would have never wanted to show off his flabby body. Now after letting his emotions take over, he has transformed into a powerful beast capable of lifting both of the bodybuilders that summoned him there. He sighs several times before turning to look at the other two and smiling. They both look at him in complete shock. ‘MMMMM guys! Let’s get this party started because I am more than willing to service both of you! Then maybe, you can return the favor!’

X: I haven't proof read it yet, but I can't seem to save it so make do, point out mistakes and I'll get back to it. *** Stephen had walked up to the gymnasium at least five times over the past couple days. Each time he'd wimp out and back off, only to build himself back up soon after and make it back out. The rugby team were meeting here, each day this week as the season started. They were preparing, getting ready for a tough year where their opponents looked bigger than ever. They had to get pumped up, gunning to win and Stephen wanted to be in there and be a part of that. Today he made it. The first thing he noticed when he swung open the door was the smell. Next was the noise. The grunts and moans of 20 men working out, pushing, pulling, pumping. All was accompanied by a musk, the stench of sweat and dirt that was just intoxicating. None looked up from what they were doing as Stephen entered. He wondered if they noticed him at all. Stephen had been working out for some time now but he felt he just couldn't pack the mass on. He'd look at himself in the mirror and flex and he'd notice the vascularity of his arms, the peak of his bis, how his peaks shifted under his skin as he bounced them around. He had rows of abs that were admired, by everyone but him. He was a pretty boy but he wanted to be thick. He wanted to have mounds of muscle packed upon each other, thick pecs resting below thick arms and a thick back. Just thick. He wanted to look in the mirror and get hard and he felt no better place than to get inspiration and support than the rugby team. The coach had noticed him as he walked in and approached him. "Hey! We're in the middle of training at the moment, if you'd like to come back later I think they co-" "No, no, I'm here for the team" Stephen cut him off "I want to join this year" The coach laughed "I'm not so sure mate, we're pretty much packed up this year" he pat his gut as he said that; it was firm "And we've got to be big y'know" Stephen noticed the coach look him up in down. Stephen was doing the same. The coach looked young, but mature. He had a heavy stubble on a perfectly sculpted jaw. Chest hair burst out of this coach shirt that must have been two sizes two small. It clung to him like wet, accentuating his broad back and chest, each nipple poking out, hard. He certainly didn't have abs but he wasn't fat. His gut was packed and powerful, he was built like a brick house. Along with the rest, his shorts left nothing to the imagination. That bulge was fascinating and his thighs pulled each short leg tight. He hadn't seen the coach's ass but he assumed it'd be much of the same. "Well what have you got?" Stephen realised he'd been gawking "Um, how do you mean?" He was getting hard, he could feel it. "Prove that you can make the team." The coach licked his lips "Drop and give me 50" Stephen did. And each one he pumped out coach counted. "1... 2... 3..." He got to 45 when he said "Okay, 100" "What?" Stephen slowed "Give me 100, hear me!" Stephen didn't answer, he kept pumping them out and he kept going after a hundred and the coach didn't stop counting. Eventually he collapsed under his own weight. The coach laughed "Oh man, that's a valiant effort" Stephen could feel his chest pound under his shirt. It felt tighter as it rubbed against his nipples. "You've got potential kid. Come with me" The coach started to walk away so Stephen dragged himself up and followed. He walked into the locker-room. Stephen was about to follow him when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Oi, what the fuck do you think you're doing here?" The voice was deep. Stephen turned around and came face to face with the thickest chest he'd seen in some time. Stephen wasn't short so this guy was tall and he was built. His body dripped with sweat, glistening under the gym light as he panted heavily. "Uh... well I'm looking to join the team" "Ha! You? I doubt it" this dude look Stephen up and down just like the coach did "Take your shirt off" "What?" "I said take your fucking shirt off" Stephen didn't hesitate. He peeled off his shirt and held it. The man in front of him took it from him and held it up. "Well you won't be needing this any more" So he tore it. Like paper, it fell to his feet. "I'm Mark, I'm the captain" Mark began to put forward his hand so Stephen instinctively mirrored and went in for a handshake. But Mark didn't stop. He went forward and put his hand on Stephen's chest. He rubbed it over and around, squeezing each pec and grabbing firm each nipple. His hand wandered down over his abs as he bit his lip. He nodded. "Turn around" Stephen did. He was getting hard. He stood there for a moment, in silence before Mark gave him a hard slap, right on his ass. "Yeah, don't worry, you'll be useful here" Mark walked away, a thick pair of glutes bouncing behind him. Stephen readjusted and made his way into the locker room. The coach was sitting there, legs wide. "What took you so long? I doesn't matter. I'm actually happy you showed up today, you'll be very helpful. A useful addition to the team" the coach got up and started rifling around in his bag. "So wait- I made the team?" "Uh, yeah sure" He was distracted "Just not right now, you gotta try something first. Come here." Stephen came close as the coach pulled something from the bottom of his bag. It was a clear box with a vial. And in his other hand was a capped syringe. "Coach I don't know if I can do that!" Stephen stood back "It's cheating and doesn't it fuck up your junk" The coach chuckled "No, it doesn't. And it's not that. It's something else. It'll get you on the team" Stephen was intrigued again. "You need to get big, and this will do it" The coach gave them both to Stephen. "I want you to go home and give yourself this. Just 20ccs. No more. Not yet. Then I want you to have a big meal. And I mean big, as much as you can get. Carbs, protein, you know, workout food. If you can get some shakes in there too, that'd be great. It should work" "Should?" "Well, yeah, this is a new batch. It can be hit and miss but I tried some on one of the players. It worked pretty well, you might've noticed him" Stephen thought he did. "Go on kid, get home. Come back tomorrow, this year's gonna be hard." *** Stephen sat at his dining room table. He pulled the vial out of the container and stuck the syringe in. He pulled out the recommended amount and stuck it into his arm. He felt nothing so he began to eat. Before him sat a personal buffet. He had pulled food out of the fridge, his meals for a week, three quarters of a left over chicken, a gallon of milk, beef, bacon. He poured himself out some protein shakes, he had cereals and toast and he began to ravage it all. The more he ate the more hungry he felt. He ate and he ate and he ate. He ate until he was full and he continued to eat until he was done. With it all. He ate more than he thought could fit in his stomach and it showed. He laid back and pat his full stomach. It was pronounced as his shirt rode up over it. As he rubbed it to sooth it, it began to grumble. It grumbled and grumbled and it shrunk. Immediately it went away, from bloated back to his washboard abs. He was amazed; it must have worked. Stephen didn't feel any bigger though. He was going to wait though, he trusted this would work. *** Stephen was getting ready. He was meeting with a friend later and he'd be over soon. Pulling over a shirt it felt tight. Not too much but it did feel like it was a stretch to get on. Same with the pants; tight around the calves. The door bell rang. "Hey man, how's it going?" "Oh you know" Stephen's friend Rob entered "Getting by." Rob entered the living room and sat down. "So what've you been up to?" "I went to try out for the rugby team today" "Oh no way, I didn't think you'd be interested in that" "Well, they let me in" "Congrats man! How'd you do it, suck the coach's dick?" He laughed Stephen blushed, he felt his body tighten "He gave me this stuff, to get me big" "Come on dude, you shouldn't get into that shit-" "No, it's not that it's like thi-" he paused. He felt his body shift. "Like this stuff that processes protein or something I don't know. Hey you want a drink?" "Sure." Stephen made his way to the kitchen. He felt a draft on his ankles. He looked down and saw his pants were shorter than they were just before. And they were tight. He felt it cling around his legs, stretched out. And his shirt felt like he'd picked out one from years ago. He wondered if it was noticeable. He brought the drinks in. Rob looked over as he came in and laughed "hey, you wanna go put on some proper clothes?" Stephen looked down. He noticed his treasure trailing poking from the bottom from his shirt. Was it thicker than usual? "I swear these fit earlier" "Ha, ha, very funny man now do-" *RIP* Stephen's pants tore down the side. His quads spilt out. They were definitely thicker than before. "Dude..." Rob's mouth was agape Stephen laughed and smiled, proud. He began to squat. His pants tore again, right across the ass. Standing back off he grabbed the front and pulled them right off. Standing in just his underwear he began to flex his legs. He was putting on a show for Rob. Then his focus turned upwards. Stephen turned around and flexed out his lats. He was wide and with it his shirt tore in two places, right on each side. Then he turned back and flexed his biceps. Each one tore through each sleeve. His shirt was shredded. As he pulled it off he began to take in his new body. The serum worked, he was much thicker. His abs weren't as defined but they were there and they felt powerful. He'd almost forgot Rob was in the room as he pulled a bunch of poses, each one turning him on a little more. Suddenly Rob's hand was on his chest. "I swear you weren't this big before" His finger rubbed over a nipple. It made Stephen harder. Stephen looked down and saw Rob had something growing in his pants. He smiled. Rob blushed and stepped back, picking up his bag. "I've got to go dude, something's come up." He rushed out the house. Stephen didn't mind, he had his own body to work with. He quickly made his way upstairs and stood in front of his full length mirror. His was definitely big. Pulling out some more poses he assessed his body. His biceps were like boulders, each one much thicker than before. They were longer and rounder and filled up each arm. His forearms matched, and were nicely vascular. His shoulders were like rocks. But it was his pecs that amazed him. They were round and heavy and soft in each hand. He bounced them and they rippled along his chest. He twerked each nipple, for each felt much rounder and thicker than before. They were suckable. His abs definitely weren't as visible but he felt strong. He was like an offseason bodybuilder early in their career. He loved the look. He was fully hard and leaking precum. His underwear was beginning to stain so he pulled them off, already fraying around the edges. His dick stood tall and full of girth. It was bigger than before. Grabbing it in his hand he began to rub as he looked down his body to his legs. His quads were fucking massive, powerful. His calves had to be seen to be believed. But his ass, oh his ass. Round and thick, he made each bun bounce. It was more than a bubble butt, it was a beachball butt. This would make Mark happy. That thought pushed him over the edge. He'd been stimulating his throbbing cock that seemed to just grow in his hands until he couldn't hold it back any more. He came and he came loads. All over the mirror, it dripped down the reflection of his brand new body. He fell back on his bed and smiled. Coach would be proud. END OF PART 1

My first story! Not sure what are all the best tags to use for it, but I hope you all like it. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It happed like this: I went into the locker room after my workout feeling incredibly swollen and exhausted. My Under Armour tank was drenched with sweat and stretched tightly over my skin. So was the underwear underneath my baggy gym shorts. I had pushed myself harder than I normally did, but it was so worth it to get that pump and see those veins running up and down my forearms. I instantly grabbed a protein shake and chugged it while walking over to the mirror to see my progress. There was no need to take off the shirt to know how good I looked. My abs were clearly pushing out the shirt in front of my stomach and I had these great striations in my arms for someone my size. Lean, tall, but built thick and solid with a neck and jaw line like a rock. Not much body hair, but I thought I looked pretty good with some short, spiky brown hair on my head. Yeah, looking at that buffer than most reflection I knew there was no way a girl wouldn’t think I was hot. Apparently, so did Andrew. I barely knew the guy before that day. I mean, I might have noticed him in the gym on the treadmill or something, but I never stopped to think about or talk to him. He kept to himself, and I did too. Nothing against the guy, I just didn’t ever really want to talk to him. But there he was, standing behind me and noticing how I was looking at myself in the mirror. “Nice arms” he said. I couldn’t say the same about him. I looked twice his size and he had next to nothing in development on his equally tall, but skinny frame. His blond hair was all gelled up and I could tell he had just tanned since he was wearing nothing but a black and red jockstrap, but man did he ever look sad in it. I couldn’t help but pity him as he stood there with his arms on his hips and a satisfied grin on his face. I admire a guy for starting to work out and having confidence, but he just looked ridiculous in this case. “Wanna see my muscles?” he asked. I chuckled. “Sure bud, after a couples years of working out. You might have a good build by then.” I turned around to face him, attempting to leave the locker room. “I think they look pretty good now” he said calmly as he put his hand on my shoulder. “I can show you my posing routine; it only takes a minute or two. After I’m done you can tell me what you think”. Andrew stood there for a moment waiting for a response. While this was happening he started to gently rub my shoulder, which was really weird, but for some reason I didn’t think so at the time. I just saw these big, blue puppy dog eyes and I thought “well, just to humour him, it’ll only take a minute” so I said “yes” and he walked over to the middle of the room to start his show. For some reason I started to feel really light headed. Maybe it was the log work out? I don’t know, but I went over to the bench opposite him so I could watch, thinking at the same time that he really did have these deep, blue eyes. Andrew started with a basic double bicep pose. Man it looked pathetic. Not much definition or size, but all the same he thought he looked great. After that he went on to do side chests from two angles before doing a lat spread. He did them all with the best timing and posing he could do, but anyone else would have easily just laughed at him. “Think I’m making some good progress in the gym?” he stopped to ask. I shrugged and said “sure dude”, just to avoid hurting his feelings. I started feeling hot again for some reason. I must have really tired myself with that workout. Even my heart was beating a little faster. Andrew then turned around to show me the same poses from behind. Equally lame from that angle, but I didn’t notice so much since I started feeling really fidgety and sweaty. “Did the air conditioning stop working?” I asked. “It might have, this isn’t exactly the most modern of gyms” He replied. I had to agree, but still it sucked to have to sit there in the increasingly stuffy heat. At least his routine would be over soon. He moved on to showing off his legs before bending his left one to do some more arm poses from a different height. “It’s worth it to work out your legs too. Don’t want to be and all upper body guy right?” He asked. “Yeah...sure” I stammered out. OK, this was getting ridiculous, how could he not notice the heat in here? Maybe it was because he was mostly naked, but still I was burning up and my clothes were even wetter than before. Worse, I could feel my underwear tightening around my crotch like I was getting hard or something. “You almost done buddy? I think I’d like to get to somewhere where the air works soon.” “Sure bro, just a few more poses.” He stood back up at his full height again before bending over to do a most (for him) muscular. He growled out as he did so saying “Dam, there’s nothing like a good pump!” This was when I really started to lose it. I was trying desperately to take my shirt off, but my hands couldn’t seem to get a grip on anything. I keep running them up and down my torso trying to grab onto some part of the fabric I could pull up, but it felt tighter than ever against my thick body. After what felt like several minutes I was finally able to grab the top part of my tank and quickly rip it off, tearing it straight down the middle. “Sorry about that man, I know Under Armour doesn’t come cheap”. I was hardly paying attention to him when he said this. I just threw my head back in relief at finally getting some of my clothes off. “Fuck, it’s hot in here” was all I could say. “Need some help with those shorts?” Andrew took a break from his show to help pull them off. I was grateful for the help, but horrified to see what was showing when they were removed. A full erection, as big as ever was tenting up my underwear like it was a real campsite. Since even they were soaked through with sweat it at least helped to hide whatever pre cum might have been there at the time. “Are...you...finished...yet?” I panted out as best I could. “Just about, I can see it’s getting pretty intense here for you. I’m feeling pretty hot and sweaty myself.” He began to not only flex, but rub his hands over his body too. His frame may have been thin, but his jockstrap was starting to look pretty stuffed at that moment. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him while this was happening. My hands were trembling as they reached for my cock and I began stroking it through the fabric of my underwear with both of them at the same time. “Aw yeah man, just a few more bicep poses.” I gripped my cock harder still as he went on to curl his arms again and again. Mine were on fire, veins swelling and muscles stretching as I felt them pump up more than they ever did doing curls. I jerked myself furiously as I felt the sweat running down my back, chest and abs and my face getting red. “Almost there” he continued with some more side chests. Was my cock getting even bigger?! I couldn’t tell because my eyes were glued to Andrew doing his posing routine. He did another most muscular while saying “Fuck yeah, look at that shit!” sticking out his tongue for added cockiness. I was at a loss for words, I had never been so turned on in my life and I didn’t know how much more I could take it. “Looks like you’re about ready” Andrew said as he moved towards me and took my underwear off. How he did so with my hands moving so much and so fast in the way, I don’t know, but he did and I just stared into his beautiful face the whole time. Being able to feel the skin of my dick just turned me on even more. I was gasping for air as Andrew went back to his spot to give me his last pose. “One more, just like Arnold!” he said before returning to the same double bicep pose he had started out with. “FUCK!” I didn’t even say it so much as roared like an animal as I was finally able to close my eyes and throw my head back as I blew load, after load of cum into the air and all over my body. Grunting and growling as it went on for forever, it seemed. Finally I was able to calm down and begin to focus on what had just happened. I looked around the room, but didn’t see Andrew anywhere. All I saw was the mess I had made of the room with my load, and some blond bodybuilder standing in the centre of the room wearing nothing but a bulging black and red jockstrap. “Pretty good show, huh?” he said in a deep, masculine voice. Oh my God, it was Andrew. “Nothing hotter than getting some stud to jerk off to a skinny guy for a change.” He said before walking over to me and slapping me on the back like I was some quarterback who had just made a touchdown. “We should do it again sometime, until then...” he used his fingers to lift my chin up and give me a long, deep kiss. Best I can remember. After that he turned around and started to walk away. Just before he got to the door, he picked up a towel and threw it to me. “You look like you might need this.” I caught it, but still couldn’t stand up for the next few minutes. All I could think of was that was probably the best posing routine I would ever see in my life. End