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  1. The thought of a seventy-year old massive muscle monster kept me up most nights. It also kept my cock so hard that I couldn’t roll over or it would have acted like a kickstand and stopped the motion of my body instantly – causing a lot of pain. I wanted a senior bulging daddy to take care of me. I wanted a huge master to keep me in line when I got out of place and the same elder beast to reward me when I did something nice. It was completely crazy, but I craved the disciplining just as much as I longed for the rewarding. I knew I needed the constant positive reinforcement that only a strong, silver-haired, weathered-faced, golden-ager could give. I was a twenty-six-year-old gay man that wanted one thing in life – a humongous senior citizen mentor who would treat me as his boy, his pup, his plaything - all rolled up into one. I became so obsessed with this desire that I became one of the world’s leading chemists, even at my young age – having graduated high school and college within five years and getting my doctorate so quickly that professors at world-renowned universities came to me to learn. I, however, had one goal and one goal only with my newfound knowledge – a gray haired super daddy. I said yes to a very lucrative job with a major pharmaceutical company in southern California under the guise that I was helping them create resources for dermatologists to assist people to stay young and healthy looking. The work they paid me handsomely for was actually child’s play since I already had lots of ideas that would help to accomplish their goals – but it was the work that I got to do in my private lab that fueled me on daily. I was working on what powered my every waking and sleeping moment – my thirst for an enormous senior daddy. As part of my research I frequented gay bars and gyms that catered to older men. I knew that part of my dream coming true depended on finding the perfect man. I wasn’t interested in continuing my work after I attained my goal. I wasn’t interested in creating an army of big older men; I just wanted one muscled daddy that would rock my world. I think half the fun of my research was ‘interviewing’ potential candidates, since it gave me a smorgasbord of hot elder men to dream about at night. Many guys didn’t cut the mustard because of their attitude. There were a lot of elder men out there that only wanted a younger man so they’d have a companion. That was all fine and good, and I respected those people, but I wanted more from my elder muscled god. Don’t get me wrong, I certainly wanted to please and service him, but I also wanted him to demand a lot from me. I wanted a teacher, a coach, a guide, a trainer – in short, I wanted a muscled gramps. It took me only a year and a half to land on the perfect formula for accomplishing my goal. It took me longer, however, to find the right man for the job. I knew the stuff I had created would only change a man physically and that meant the interior self of my daddy needed to be there already. Sure, the added size and strength would definitely impact the guy’s attitude, but I knew there had to be certain characteristics in place prior to the change. A certain desire needed to already course through the veins of my elder god. My search was getting a little frustrating and almost discouraging until I met Mr. Dennis – Mr. Randy Dennis. I met Mr. Dennis on his seventy-first birthday. He was celebrating with some friends at Wrinkles, a neighborhood bar that catered specifically to older men. In the beginning, I had been mistaken for a hustler in the bar, but since I had gone there so often by this point I was now considered a regular. Mr. Dennis was there for the first time; a small entourage of friends had forced him to go out for his special day. I started to ignore the group and the birthday boy after taking a long gander at them and deciding they were all too young to become my desired daddy. Mr. Dennis, himself, looked to be in his late fifties or early sixties – a great age, in and of itself, but not old enough for me. It was only after I heard one of his friends threatening to offer him the obligatory seventy-one spankings that I sat up and took notice. The birthday boy definitely had a lot going for him. He clearly had a well-made body that seemed to still be in pretty good shape; something that definitely caused him to look younger. I used the huge mirror on one of the walls of the bar to get a good look at his smiling face and that’s when my cock started to pulse as strong as my heartbeat. All of my life an elder man’s face had been one of my biggest turn-ons. Mr. Dennis had that endured look I loved so much – crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes, masculine wrinkled brow, sexy receding hairline, indented jowls that still looked firm, and the beginnings of age spots that only complimented his look. It was the perfect graying of his hair that really got me going, though. He had dark hair everywhere, except along the temples and running around the entire edge of his closely cropped cut. It was always the look that actually sent my cock into spewing mode when I was imagining older men while beating off. When the man smiled he had great un-perfectly-whitened teeth. There was nothing fake about the guy and it was clear he was proud to be the age he was – even though he really looked a lot younger than seventy-one. My toes literally curled up in my shoes when I heard him speak. It wasn’t this deep voice that I had always dreamed of, but it was powerful and almost bossy – much more to my liking than what I had fantasized about in the past. The guy was giving his friends grief over making him do a shot and it sounded like a teacher scolding the entire class. I was in heaven – the man was definitely confident and already sounded a little coach-like. I stared more closely at the guy as I focused on the group’s conversation more. He was in pretty good shape, it seemed – still sporting a tapered look that was usually reserved to guys a third of his age. The guy’s chest actually bumped his shirt out a little – pecs pushing against the material even though I could tell they weren’t as hard as they used to be. He probably had that slightly droopy beef look that older men got as their muscles aged. His arms definitely filled out the sleeves of his shirt, but I could tell the triceps weren’t as firm as they once were. After he and his pals downed the shots that had been placed in front of them, the elder man actually wiped his mouth with the back of his hand – in that rough way, which was usually reserved for cowboys, construction workers, or bare-knuckle fighters getting rid of blood. I felt myself swallow hard as I watched him make the masculine move. It was the next moment that confirmed this was the elder man I had been looking for all these months. The guy took his full beer, downed it in one long gulp, and then let out the loudest burp I had ever heard. It actually made the entire bar go silent and every head turned in his direction. The act in and of itself was kind of repulsive, but when the spotlight was put upon Mr. Dennis in this awkward way, he simply raised his hands in a ‘what’s a guy to do’ sort of way and then spoke to everyone loudly. “Sorry, gentlemen, but I think within me there’s an aggressive Neanderthal beast just dying to escape. I feel like an ape that wants to pound wildly on his chest. I apologize for my behavior.” That clinched the deal for me. It was those words that grabbed my heart in the kind of vice-grip that happens very few times in one’s life. I felt the rush of euphoria that Dr. Frankenstein must have felt when his monster came alive. I tried to envision Mr. Dennis with about a hundred pounds of more densely packed bulging muscles. I imagined him with the kind of body that couldn’t be contained in mere shirts of other mortals. He’d need sleeveless tops – allowing for his massive biceps and triceps ballooning out in ways that would give him that ‘move out of my way’ look of giant musclemen. For some reason, I also envisioned him in cut-off blue jean shorts usually reserved for southern women or skinny junior high boys. His, however, would be stretched-to-the-max above bulging thighs and loose around the skinny waist. My mind then went to the stubbly fur that would constantly cover the lower part of his face – being unable to shave enough times during the day to remove what his testosterone-laden body would churn out daily. Randy Dennis would definitely be one of those handsome elder grizzlies that was perfectly comfortable totally nude or covered in a tight tuxedo – realizing that even covered up his body still looked hot-as-hell. While I was imagining all of this, the man, himself, had walked up to the bar beside where I sat to order another beer. We caught eyes and he did that manly up-tick of his chin and smiled to say hello. The opportunity of the moment emboldened me. “Happy birthday. Might I give the birthday boy a kiss?” “Sweetheart, I could be your great grandfather!” “Ah, trying to turn me on, are you?” I quickly responded, catching him off guard. “Would this so-called mouth to mouth moment involve any tongue, young man?” “Only if you instigated it, sir.” Maybe it was the shot and the beers, maybe it was because it was his birthday, or maybe it was just because I am, what a lot of people would consider, most handsome – but the older guy leaned toward me and placed his perfect lips against mine. On some level, I registered the whoops and hollering that came from his comrades, but I kept my focus on the beautiful, manly, worn face as it moved in to mine. I was surprised to see that he kept his eyes open, as well. It was the kind of kiss that would have had sparks shooting out everywhere or lightning bolts flashing if this had been a cartoon. I instantly knew the connection was not one-sided, either. The widening of his eyes told me he felt the electrical-like jolt, too. He pulled back quickly. “Fuck, what was that?” Mr. Dennis asked with an astonished face. “Fate,” I replied. “Who knew fate could feel so good.” “May I buy your beer, birthday boy?” “With lips like those, dinner would be better, handsome?” His comment caught me off guard. I started to speak, but my mouth just dropped open wide and I stared at him. Damn, his face was gorgeous – even in the midst of being dumbfounded by him I could admire his looks. Jade colored eyes with flecks of gold in them were emphasized by the light green perfectly crisp linen shirt which complimented his still wiry elder body. His clothes were expensive – I could tell – and that excited me in a way I had not anticipated. Maybe I was turned on by the fact that my future super-powered gramps was secure and established. I forced myself to return to the present moment and tried my best to react to his roundabout invitation to dinner. “How ‘bout it, stud? Care to take an old man to dinner for his birthday?” “I would . . . I would . . . like it more than . . . than…” “Spit it out, son.” “More than anything, sir.” “Fuck, no need to be formal, son. Quit with the ‘sir’ stuff. It makes me feel old. Call me Randy.” “I’m Thomas. It’s great to meet you, Randy.” “Likewise. I have expensive taste, Thomas. Sure you want to take me to dinner?” “Only if drinks at my place can follow,” I replied, having regained some of my bravado from earlier. “Damn, you’re a slick one, Thomas. You don’t need glasses do you, pal. You do know that I’m seventy-one, today, and you’re – let me guess – twenty-four?” “Almost twenty-seven.” “Damn, a cute spring chicken. No telling what the boys, over there, are going to call me behind my back when I leave with you. Let me go tell them goodbye and you take out that phone of yours and make reservations at some very nice expensive French restaurant. This is already turning into a birthday I will never forget. He had no idea how right he was. I was going to make sure it was a night we’d both always remember.
  2. He started unbuttoning his shirt as he spoke. I held my breath in anticipation. I had been dreaming of this moment for a long time. “Looking back, now, I can pinpoint the moment, son. I was forty-six, overweight, a major couch potato, and just a shell of a man. I was at work one day and I overheard two co-workers talking about me. It was two of the secretaries, who I considered friends. They talked about how they felt sorry for me because I seemed to live such a drab existence. They said I was the best number cruncher in the business, but that I wasn’t any fun. And then they said what ended up hurting and helping the most. They said it was quite clear I didn’t like myself . . . or respect myself. That conversation gnawed at me constantly for the entire day. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get those last words out of my head. That night, after a pint of rocky road ice cream, I went and stood in front of a full-length mirror in my bedroom – totally nude. And as I stared at myself I realized it was true – I didn’t like what I saw. And I certainly didn’t like how I felt inside. It was that moment that something awakened within me – there was some kind of seismic shift that made everything change.” By this point I could see part of his smooth-as-a-baby’s-behind voluminous pectoral muscles and the nice deep divide between them. The shirt dangled there like a curtain partially hiding some tremendous theatrical surprise. I was scared my mouth would soon start drooling. “The next day was Saturday and I was at a gym two blocks from my house by six that morning. I had never stepped into a gym in my entire life. There was an early morning trainer already there by that time, so I was assigned to this huge jovial guy named Cesar. One of his first questions to me was what I hoped to accomplish by working out and I had answered with tears in my eyes, ‘I want to like myself. I want to be a fun person again.’ This answer seemed to blow Cesar out of the water. I think he had expected something like ‘I want to be healthy’ or ‘I want to get bigger.’ I think the big man recognized a little of his old self in my answer and he immediately took a liking to me. He told me that he could work on making my ‘outside’ more fun, but that I was going to have to do all the ‘inside’ work on my own. He said having a rocking hard body helped, but it was never the answer to happiness. I knew he was right, but I said, ‘I just want to like what I see in the mirror.’ Cesar said to give him two years and we’d get there.” He held out his arms – indicating he’d need my help getting the dress shirt off of his huge frame. I pulled on one of the cuffs as he pushed the shirt off his shoulder. We then did it on the other side, too. I beheld my boss’ huge chiseled upper body shirtless for the first time. I felt my head go very light and the room started spinning. I reached out to steady myself against the back of a nearby chair. If he had noticed my temporary muscle-induced vertigo, he didn’t acknowledge it at all. He was a polite man and would not have wanted to embarrass me. “Cut to six years later and after never ever missing a day of working out since then I have become the fifty-two year old man you see in front of you. And, for the record, I really like taking off my clothes and looking in the mirror.” “I can see why,” I replied – still quite dizzy from the splendor that was him. “I still train with Cesar most mornings, but I can now lift a lot more than him. He calls me the ‘Alpha’ and takes credit for all of my growth. However, he always says the ‘inside’ changes were because of my own hard work. So the point I was making is that you’re never going to know if a ‘moment’ will be life changing or not until you’re past it a little. Take this moment, now, for example. We both just happened to be working late. I happened to walk up on you as you were looking at hot men on Grindr in the break room. That got me thinking about how nice it would feel to have that gorgeous mouth of yours plastered on my pecs, which has led to this exact moment, now – me standing in my office with my shirt off and you looking like a kid in a candy store. So, be careful, stud, what you do in this moment can have major ramifications in the future – both the near future and the far away future. I’m just a big muscle daddy standing in front of a young man asking him to worship him, but it could turn into so much more. Take a moment to decide, if you need to, kid.” “My life changing moment came two years ago, sir, when you hired me for this job. We sat in that conference room down the hall and chatted for two hours during the interview. I didn’t want it to end, because staring at your body in that tight shirt pleased me so much. I also couldn’t have stood up from the table or the front of my slacks would have given my lust away. Deciding to work here was one of the best decisions in my life – even for a youngster like me. I’ve worked hard in hopes that you’d notice me. I’ve waited patiently for this moment, right now.” “It sounds like a decision has already been made.” The Flash couldn’t have gotten his mouth on the man’s chest faster than I did. I had dreamed of – and beaten off thinking about – that luscious protruding pec shelf for two years. I had taken so many secret photos of that bare chest during our company’s beach volleyball outing that I had been able to memorize the veins, the exact placement of the jutting nipples, and the incredible thickness of both massive mounds. I immediately sounded like a shed full of pigs chowing down on some freshly thrown grub. The force of my sucking, intensified by dreaming of this moment for two years straight, caused my boss to gasp loudly, which turned into an even louder long moan. Hearing him get excited because of something I was doing to him was like throwing gasoline on an open flame. The passion of the moment multiplied a hundred fold. I sucked like a madman – which was surely going to leave big mouth spots all over his enormous chest. “Aw hell, young man, you make me want to crush something big!” Vein-covered gigantic biceps wrapped around my shoulders and back, pulling me even more tightly into his much bigger and much harder body. I simply continued to suck – wanting to give the man the kind of pleasure that could only lead to an explosion. The bald headed behemoth continued to let out copious amounts of expletives in between deep guttural moans, which actually sounded more like growls. This only fueled me on more – the idea that something I was doing would give him pleasure made me feel like a superhero. I took time – even in the midst of my sensation overload – to enjoy the moment. To appreciate the physical payoff of a man’s years in a gym, to soak up the comfort and security of such a strong hug, and to admire the intense joy the man brought to all of my five senses. He was a fifty-two year old muscle god and I was his adoring worshipper. I was fully aware of the yet to be unleashed power in his arms. He held me tightly, but I could feel how he only used a fraction of his full strength – so he wouldn’t do any permanent damage. My blood boiled even more as I imagined the amount of weight he was able to push around in a gym. Suddenly, the monstrous limbs surrounding me squeezed tighter and the man leaned backwards – causing my feet to shoot off the ground as he tightly held my smaller body a foot from the floor. “I’ll give you about ten hours to stop that sexy-man sucking, kid. You’re making me feel invincible – like even more powerful than superman. This is the kind of pleasure I’ve dreamed of ever since I hired you. I’ve wanted to smother you in my enormous muscles for forever. You make me want to take on an army!” I knew this would end up being what he had referenced before – one of my moments. Hearing the big elder man talk this way was better than anything else in the world – well, anything that didn’t involve him doing things to me. I had a feeling we were going to have a few more important moments in the coming hours and in the coming years. I became his man right there in that tight-as-hell hug with my feet dangling in the air. So many moments in my life had simply been a pre-cursor to this moment. My hard-ons in appreciation of muscle magazines, my endless internet scrolls through muscle worship videos, my childhood lust for Lou Ferrigno in ‘The Incredible Hulk,’ my numerous one-night stands because a guy’s arm stretched the material of his shirt, and my endless hours daydreaming about this man at my desk – all of it led to right here, right now. “Kid, I have a feeling this moment is going to be even more special than the day I started lifting. Holding you in my big arms feels better than I ever imagined. I’m going to make sure you never have a desire that isn’t met. I want you to be the happiest lad on earth.” “I already am, right now, in this moment, sir.”
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