Search the Community
Showing results for tags 'bulge'.
Found 2 results
Hanging Herc 3 The next night, Homul walked back to the Firen Flight only to discover that the previous guard, along with Hercules, weren't there. "Sorry little dude," the new guard told Homul as he hung his head in disappointment. Homul was so disappointed that he could almost feel his meat crawl into his waist from being so turned off. "he'll probably be back tomorrow," the new guard told him with a reassuring grin. Homul grinned back to be polite. "Thanks," he said and walked away. Homul's feet felt heavier as he dragged them back into town. He walked through the dark countryside of Greece remembering everything Hercules did on stage with little to no effort. He could hear all of the men in the room cheering Hercules on. In fact, he really could hear someone scream Hercules. He thought it was all in his head until the screaming and cheering for Hercules became too loud for him to ignore. these screams weren't in his head... they were real... but where were they coming from? they weren't coming from his own horny mind, they were coming from someone's horny voice outside of his mind. Homul followed the soft and muffled screams to a river hidden deep in the Greek mountains. The sound seemed to be riding inside the mist rising from a waterfall upstream. The waterfall was loud, but the moans of Hercules' name were louder. Homul walked up to the waterfall certain that they were coming from under the waterfall. "Are you ok," a voice that sounded like Hercules asked from under the waterfall. "I've taken centaurs dozens of times," a voice that reminded him of the guard from last night responded. As Homul snuck up closer the voice continued with "but they feel like tiny fingers compared to you... ok... wow... that's way bigger than anything I've ever taken before!" Something interrupted the voice's train of thought. He could barely get one word out. Homul was now so close that he could see a torchlight from under the water. He discovered that the light was coming from a tunnel under the waterfall. The tunnel walls echoed the heavy breathing of who he assumed was the guard buried under Hercules. "The centaurs might be half horse but they aren't half god... are they?" This confirmed that he was truly hearing the voice of Hercules echo out of the tunnel. "No... they, they, they aren't," the other voice chocked up. "I can feel the difference... centaurs are softer than this!" "How hard can Hercules get," Homul asked himself. "I can see the difference too... your head is poking out and rolling up and down my stomach like a boulder is rolling around my insides!" This was too much for Homul to ignore. He quietly walked into the cave to see this rolling bulge for himself. when Homul cut the corner of the cave he realized the guard wasn't kidding. The two men were on a cheap and quickly-built looking bed, and you really could see Hercules poking through like a ball rolling up and down his skin. The shadows created by the dimly burning torch on the wall behind the bed defined the moving lump in the guard's body. Homul slowly hardened as he watched. Hercules was in the outfit he was most famous for, but the loose bottom half of the outfit did next to nothing to keep Hercules "contained." Hercules was wearing his usual covering, yet, somehow, Homul could still see his balls flapping around. His sack reminded him of clothes drying on a windy day... they were thrown around all over the place. Were his testicles bigger than before? They seemed to be covered in more veins too. Homul assumed his cock was even veinier too, but he couldn't be sure because it was deep inside the guard. "I'm really, close... I'm sorry," Hercules apologized in a sincere voice that was still erotic. "We've been here for a while," the guard said shocked. He took a few more breaths and said "How have you not cum already? I would have cum three times by now!" Hercules was clearly about to say something, but his ejaculation interrupted him. Homul could hear Hercules' cum slapping against the guard's stomach. The bulge in the guard's stomach grew so plump that it covered Hercules' cock completely. His stomach rose and rose as Hercules seemed to have no limit. How much sperm can one man hold? His balls were huge but they didn't look like they held THAT much. When Hercules finished, he rubbed the guard's swollen belly to calm him down. The guard's face was red, bright red, but he was still grinning. The guard loved every last sperm cell filling him up. He felt a million degrees warmer... like he swallowed the sun whole... and he loved it. "God's can't impregnate men right?" Hercules laughed without answering. "Maybe," he said. Hercules pulled his cock out and let his load flow out of the guard's hole. His stomach flattened as the cum poured out like white molasses. "What does that mean," he asked Hercules with a shaky voice. "It's happened before. A god's seed is so strong that it can fuse with the sperm of another man and breed just as much as it would breed a female. "Ok," he said, "I would love your offspring inside of me anyways. If I do get pregnant, I want to breed an army with you. We could impregnate the land with warriors like you impregnate me. "Don't have to tell me twice," Hercules said gripping his testicles... as if to say he wants to breed that army right now..
The Bull's Bucket The sun was rising over Mathew Acres farm as John, a shy and slim 20 year old horse, walked up to the barn for his first day of work. John had been hired to go into the farm every morning at sunrise and milk a bull named “Fulbon.” John had no idea how you could even milk a bull, but he was told the instructions were in the barn. All he knows for a fact is that he was told to wear clothes that can get messy, because it was a messy job. He knew he would be working in a barn, so he expected the standard barn mess, but he wondered why the messy part was pointed out. He assumed the farmer was just being cautious and continued walking to the barn. The barn was an average looking barn, basically what you imagine when you hear the word, but the smell was a bit different. It didn't smell like a barn… it smelled like a gym locker room. He smelled the same musky manly smell he used to smell in the high school locker room. Every time the wind blew, his nose felt like it was dug deep in football uniforms. The smell of musk got stronger as John opened the barn doors. On the left was a door labeled “closet” with a row of large stables next to it. He noticed one stable had leather hanging from it, the leather looked like the arm assist used in a gym to hold your arms as you did pull ups. On the right was another set of stalls the same size as the ones on the left. Only the right stalls had no leather hanging down. It was only the one stall on the left that had the arm rests. John walked in and looked for the stall labeled “Fulbon.” The stall he was looking for was the stall with the arm rest hanging down. The leather arm rests hung about ¼ of the way from the roof of the barn to the floor. He wondered why they were there as he walked up to the stall. The bull was sleeping in the right corner under a large black comforter type blanket found on the top of beds in hotels. The blanket was bulky and covered the bull’s body well. As John approached the door of the stall, he noticed a defining curve in the center of the bull’s body curving up out of the blanket. John assumed this was a casual pillow or awkward fold in the blanket. John looked around the barn and couldn’t find any clue as to what to do. He leaned over the stall door and looked for some sign of instructions. As he leaned in, the door moved an inch forward quickly and loudly. The bull under the blanket woke up to the banging door. John stepped back, worried about what the bull would say. “Are you the new milker,” the bull asked in an intimidating voice filled with frustration. John quietly nooded. “Thank GOD!” the bull smiled and said “the last one was terrible!” “I’m sorry about that,” John said, being polite. “He would always jerk me around like I did something to him... he just wanted to finish and go. Jokes on him though I never gave him all I could anyway.” John stared at Fulbon. “You,” he asked him. Fulbon raised his eyebrow to John and asked him “what did you think you were doing here?” “I thought I would be looking for a bull named Filbon who was going to help me with the milking, maybe he would relax the cows I was milking, I’m not sure.” Fulbon moved the blanket off of himself and stood up. “You’re milking me,” Fulbon said. John looked down at the bull’s male parts that created the bulge he thought was a wrinkle in the blanket. The testicals hung down just above his knees like ripe fruit from a tree, the shaft of the bull looked like a tree limb curving out of his body and down with a head just above where the balls hung. “What?” John knew what the bull said, but internally he wanted the bull to say he was kidding. “Every day I need my seed to be drained so that the seed I make stays as fresh as possible. I need someone to make sure everything is flowing smoothly and to make sure they get everything they can.” John stood there and felt a small blush of excitement. The bull’s male parts looked extremely smooth and soothing, and he could already imagine the wet girth in his hands. “You want me to make you cum,” John asked just to be sure the bull was being serious. “Until I tell you I’m dry, yes. Your job is to fill up the bucket until I tell you I’m all dried up.” John looked around for the bucket but didn’t see anything. “Check the closet,” Fulbon said as he stretched his body trying to wake himself up. John walked over to the closet door and opened it to see a normal looking closet of barn equipment. He looked around the closet until he saw the only bucket in the back corner, which looked like the white paint was peeling off. He grabbed it and walked back to Fulbon’s stall. “Is this it,” he asked. “The one soaked in dry seamen, yes” he told John. “This is all you,” John asked, fascinated that the bull in front of him could make that much liquid. “I’m impressed,” John said, opening the stall door. “It's what bulls do” Fulbon told him, shaking his balls around with his left hand. John set the bucket down in front of Fulbon and asked; ‘What now?” Fulbon put his elbows in the arm rest and flexed his cock to signal that it was time for the milking. John stared at Fulbon’s body, looking over his tone legs and stomach like an art exhibit. John got down on both knees to the side of the bull cock and grabbed it on the end. John started running his hands from the bottom of his cock to about half way, applying just enough pressure to make a soft sloping noise. “Not bad,” Fulbon told him. John smiled as he continued his rubbing motions. He stood there on his knees watching this beautiful cock spring to life in his hands. He could feel the blood dripping in through the thick tendons of Fulbon. For several moments John caressed the warm log in his hands, paying close attention to remain calm both internally and externally. Fulbon didn’t want to admit it this early, but he was honestly enjoying John’s hands. He felt his meat cramp up as John rubbed the bottom half of his cock with such gentleness that Fulbon felt like he was getting a special treatment. Fulbon wanted to mean, he wanted to let go of the pleasure building up in his voice. He also didn’t want John to hear the groans and get arrogant and change what he was doing. Before John came along, he was used to his cock being thrown around like a frisbee in the hands of his previous milker. The only reason he ever climaxed before was to give the milker something to work with. He gave the previous milker as little as possible to encourage the milker to quit. That tactic finally worked when John showed up. Now that John’s soothing hands were caring for his cock, Fulbon thought he would have a true climax today. He was willing to give John everything he could brew if John kept milking him like this. “How’s this,” John asked him without ever losing concentration. When Fulbon opened his mouth to talk, the moan he was holding back belted out all at once. John didn’t jump at all. John simply paused his caresing for a moment and looked up to ask “to much?” “Actually that’s perfect, I don’t remember the last time my shaft was loved by hands this gentle.” John looked back down at the meat in front of his face and said; “I just want you to spill as much seed as possible, and I want you to enjoy it too. Plus, I’m extracting your seed the same way I extract my own seed.” Fulbon laughed and asked “and how do you do that?” “I don’t force the seamen out… I rub myself calmly as I think about another man being in bed with me and the cum just naturally flows out.” Fulbon grinned and said; “Smart. I can see you have a lot of experience with tending to meat.” John tightened his grip but kept the same speed and said “I guess so. I’ve seen a million ways to tend to meat and i've tried them all… by myself at least. I’ve never laid down with anyone.” John felt a brief moment of jealousy and loneliness as he rubbed the bull’s meat. The first time he touched another man’s cock was for a job. He thought about what this meat in his hands would look like spread out on his bed. Fulbon could see the sinking spirits of John and felt bad for him. John was a decent guy who was hard working and knew how to operate another man’s machine. “I’ll tell you what,” Fulbon said. John slowed his rubbing down and looked up at Fulbon. “You’re a cool guy and you’ve never been with anyone else. I’ve been with countless lovers before, and all of them were too violent to enjoy or wouldn’t stop talking, usually both were true. Even outside this milking stand my lovers have been a pain to deal with. You’re the first one I’ve enjoyed… or even respected for that matter. If you tell the farmer you need to come back tonight to try milking me again, because you couldn’t get much out of me today, he’ll let you come back anytime after dark. Just warn him you’re coming so you don’t spook him and you can walk right up here. I’ll be waiting.” John blushed and asked “what about the milk from right now? Won’t he know you’ve already given me your milk today?” “Good point,” Fulbon answered. He then suggested “only fill it up a fraction of the way. Hand him the bucket of what I gave you and tell him this was everything, then say you want to try again at sunset.” “Good idea,” John said as he picked up his movements where he left off. He continued the same movements for a few more strokes then said “let’s try something else.” john took his hands off of the shaft stood up to stretch his legs and arms. As he did that, Fulbon stared at the horse who supprised him with how good he was at his new job. As Fulbon looked at John, he noticed a curve crawling down his left leg. Fulbon felt bad for John because he thought John was hard as a rock and secretly needed release. Fulbon didn’t know how to bring it up, but he didn;t want to be the only one enjoying himself. “Enjoying this,” he asked John. John continued stretching and said “Absolutely! I can’t believe you haven’t cum yet.” “I’m getting there. I takes bigger loads longer to come out.” John nodded in agreement and blushed again. Fulbon then looked back down at the curve in John’s pants and said “speaking of loads coming out, you can loosen up that grip on your pants. I actually find it hotter when the milker’s cock is out too. Plus it feels less awkward.” “You’re sure?” as much as John was enjoying it, he only saw this as a job, and was worried about looking unprofessional. “Don’t worry,” Fulbon assured him, “the farmer never comes up here during the milking, and no one else ever comes either. Until the farmer sees you with that bucket, he stays far away, he doesn't want to risk seeing the process. John trusted Fulbon’s words and took off his shirt. He threw the shirt to the back corner of the barn and took off his shoes and socks, throwing them in the same pile. “I’ve heard a lot about horses,” Fulbon said watching John unzip his pants. As the zipper slid down, John’s long bump in his pants grew a little longer, then popped out of the pant leg and straight out infront of him. “I want to see if it’s true!” “I’ll let you decide.” John put his pants in the same pile and turned back to Fulbon who was still as hard as he’s been all day. John slid the underwear down, kneeling as he did so. When the underwear was at his feet, John stood up and put his hands on either side of his hips. Fulbon knew John was no athlete, which was made obvious by his thin body, but Fulbon was still shocked to see that John's cock was only a few inches shorter with about the same girth. “It’s not true,” Fulbon sarcastically said. Before John could say anything back, Fulbon said “you’re even bigger than I expected. I’m really going to need a taste later.” “Don’t have to tell me twice,” John admitted. He got back down on his knees, but this time he was directly in front of the bull’s shaft. The tube in the center of the bull cock was staring him right in the face like a one eyed snake. John reached his arms out and grabbed one of Fulbon’s testicals in each hand. He played with the thick and round fruit of the bull and shoved his face into the round head. He stuck his tongue out inside of the cock and licked his innerer tube. Fulbon couldn’t help himself any more. This wasn’t just the first time this move was being done on him, but he was doing it so well too. Fulbon groaned and told John “I’m really close.” John didn’t say anything, mostly because his mouth was suffocated against a bull’s meat. John heard Fulbon, and started squeezing the seedful fruit harder. He tossed them around in his grip as if he were trying to shake something out of them. Thanks to his strong grip, John could feel the cramping in his testicles. The sensation of feeling a bull’s seamen about to erupt made him drip cum a little himself. His hands were nowhere near his own seed sack, yet his sperm were starting to swim out anyway. John, lost in the moment, pulled his mouth out of the cock tube and started licking the head like candy. John was still licking the head and teasing the balls when the first squirt hit him in the face. The small load of cum splattered on his right cheek. When John felt this, he moved to the side of Fulbon where he first started and continued using both hands to shake the bull’s fruit. This method produced a few squirts of pre into the bucket, but he knew this wasn’t all his balls were holding. John then experimented with a new strategy and treated Fulbon’s testicals like an udder and squeezed them up and down. One white river lasting two seconds gracefully fell into the bucket. John watched the stream as he squeezed Fulbon’s balls, hypnotized by the shiny and white flow coming out of the other end. John slowed his squeezing and paid close attention to the folds of skin and veins in his hands. This method released a few more rivers of seamen into the bucket. “Keep going!” Fulbon clenched his teeth and opened his legs, trying to get the biggest possible load he could make. “I can still feel more down there!” John kept his hands squeezing the bull’s testicals and moved his head up against the lower curve of the sack. He started licking the curves between the testicals and pressed his tongue in the valley between the two balls. Fulbon and his seamen both felt John’s tongue exploring the underside of his balls. The intense pleasure was enough to send his climax over the edge. Fulbon sprayed a highly pressured stream with more force than his other two cum rivers combined. The white waterfall made a straight line with no slack directly into the bucket. He stood there and sprayed like a can of violent silly string. This agressive ejeculation lasted for a little over a minute. The entire minute, John was underneath Fulbon stimulating the seed as much as he could. The cum river faded into a few drops as the remaining sperm dripped out of his cock. Finally, he couldn’t feel any more milk in his sack. Fulbon looked down to see the bucket of his milk only centimeters away from the top. “I’m done,” Fulbon told John. John got out from under Fulbon’s testicals and looked at the nearly full bucket. The site of the collection of cum made John dump a few loads of cum himself. The site of another man’s seed made his seed want a taste.