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  1. Musclesaber

    m/m Spice Up Your Life (Part 3 Added 7/3/20)

    Hey y'all. Long time reader. First time Writer. Here's a little story I've been working on while I'm bored in quarantine. Part 2 will be coming very soon. Hope y'all enjoy. Chapter 1: Making Plans It had been a long quarantine for Collin and Sam. With all of their classes being moved online and them being locked in their tiny house together, they were getting a bit stir crazy. With Collin being at high risk with his asthma, and Sam wanting to protect his friend and roommate, the two of them hadn’t really left the house except for groceries and the occasional errand that Sam would run. Each of them had enrolled at the local college and met their freshmen year. They met at a party one night and started talking and became fast friends. Every year since then, they had been roommates together in a small house they rented. Now, juniors in college, they are stuck in the house with each other. Luckily, it was looking like their long quarantine would be coming to an end. The governor of their state had slowly been reopening stores and restaurants. With the country appearing to go back to normal, they thought it was appropriate to have some friends over at the very least. “Oh, come on Collin. I know you are worried about this pandemic, but we have been cooped up in this house for over three months. With everything reopening, I think that we can at least begin to see our friend group again,” said Sam trying to convince his roommate to let his friends back into their life. “It doesn’t even need to be the whole group. It can just be a few of them.” Sam walked into the kitchen of their small house to grab a snack. “I don’t know Sam. I’m just worried about the possibility of any of them bringing the virus to us,” said Collin as he sat down on their couch in the living room. “We are going to be exposing ourselves to whatever they have come in contact with.” “But you’ve already been exposed to the outside world,” said Sam as he sat down in the chair facing Collin. “I go to the grocery store once a week or so and then I come home. How is me going shopping less dangerous than our friends coming over to see us?” “You’ve been staying safe. You don’t leave the house besides going shopping. We don’t know where they’ve been. They could’ve gone to restaurants or bars for all we know. I trust that you’re being safe. I don’t trust them.” Sam leaned back in his chair crossing his arm. Clearly disappointed by his friend’s aversion to the slightest bit of human contact. Sam’s face lit back up with an idea. “What if we can make sure they social distance for at least two weeks? The 4th of July is coming up two weeks from this Saturday, if all of our friends could social distance for those two weeks, could we have a barbeque?” Sam gave Collin the biggest puppy dog face imaginable. Accentuating his big blue eyes to drive the point home. He knew Collin couldn’t resist the face. After a moment of thinking, Collin finally surrendered to his roommate’s begging. “Ugh, fine. If you can get all of them to social distance for two weeks, we can have them all over for the 4th.” Sam jumped up from his seat with glee. “Woohoo! You won’t regret this bud! We are gonna have so much fun!” Sam gave Collin an excited side hug and ran into his room to get his phone and texted everyone who was still in town. Collin watched as Sam ran off to his room with a slight smile on his face to see him so happy, but it faded into worry for what might happen if his friends fail. Sam presented the obstacle to the group and they were all on board. He took a head count and requests from everyone for what they would like served. Sam said that he would cook everything and they’d Venmo him their share. This way there would be less people preparing the food. A couple weeks went by and Sam went out the Friday before to get all of the food they were going to need. With twelve people to cook for, Sam would have his work cut out for him. On the menu were burgers, chips and dip, mac n cheese, jalapeño poppers, and Sam’s homemade chocolate pudding. He bought everyone a few different types of beer and some seltzers for the nonbeer drinkers. He wanted to go all out for this get together if it was going to be the first one after months of isolation. As he was shopping for ingredients for the dishes, he came across a fun spice kit. It was a six-piece spice set that read “Spice Up Your Life”. None of the spices seemed familiar to Sam but he thought ‘What the hell? With the way my life is going, I’m gonna need all the spice I can get.’ He grabbed the kit and continued shopping. He arrived home and started unloading the groceries. “Hey Collin!” Sam shouted from the kitchen. “You mind running out to my car and grabbing the rest of the groceries?” Collin groaned in protest but reluctantly got up from his bed and came out to help Sam. Coming into the kitchen, he saw all of the food that Sam had already brought in. “You have more food in the car? This is enough food to feed a village for a week and we’re having 10 people over for one afternoon,” Collin said with shock. “We can have leftovers if we have to,” said Sam, getting out various bowls, plates, and cutting boards for the preparation of the food. “Besides, you could easily eat all of this food by yourself in one sitting,” said Sam gesturing toward the slight gut that his friend had gained since the quarantine began. “I haven’t put on that much weight, have I?” Collin looked down at his slightly bulging belly and rubbed it. “Well there is a reason why I have to go to the store every week instead of waiting longer.” Sam walked over and smacked his friend’s stomach and watched it jiggle a bit after. “But there’s nothing wrong with that. You normally live in the gym and eat the same diet while we’re in our normal life. It’s just your calorie needs have gone down, but your intake hasn’t,” said Sam with more sincerity in his tone. “I guess you’re right,” Collin said with a bit of sadness for his lack of gym routine. He normally was a buff stud. But he had put on that COVID 19 and his muscles have deflated a bit from his normal jock physique. He sulked for a second and then proceeded to go get the rest of the groceries. “Hey, don’t get down about it bud. I’m gonna tell you the same thing you told me the night we met. “I always love a little more cushion for the pushin’”,” said Sam with a wink and slapped his roommate’s ass. “Now go get the food. I have a lot to do if we want everything ready for tomorrow.” Collin smiled and grabbed the rest of the groceries. Sam had wished he could repeat the night they met. But he knew not to get his hopes up too much. Sam carried on cooking and prepping for the barbeque. He was going through his groceries and saw the spice kit he had randomly thrown in his cart. He opened it up and saw the six spices. Each seemed to have their own specific color of the rainbow for each flavor. Sam divided each flavor up to a specific dish that he’d prepare. But that left him with one spice left over, purple. He didn’t know what to do with it. So he stowed it in the pantry for another day. After what felt like hours of preparing, everything was ready to be cooked tomorrow. Collin walked out of his room to see all of the food. “Ooooo is that your world famous homemade chocolate pudding?!?” said Collin, reaching out his finger toward the giant bowl only to have it batted away by Sam. “Yes, it is, and you can’t have any. It’s famous for a reason. Everyone loves it and I want to make sure everyone gets some tomorrow.” “Oh come on Sam. Just a little finger? Pretty please?” Collin said trying to use Sam’s own begging trick against him. Trying to slouch down to Sam’s shorter height to really sell it. “Hey no fair. That’s my trick,” said Sam with a bit of a chuckle. “Alright. If you really want some, the spoon is sitting over there on the counter. Just finish up before I put everything into the dishwasher.” Collin beamed with delight. “You’re the best.” He walked over to the counter with joy in his steps. He picked up the spoon and sat down at their dining room table. Licking the spoon and loving every second of it. “Mmmm. You really should make this more often. It’s become one of my favorite desserts ever since you’ve started making it.” “I know. Everyone loves it, but it just takes me forever to make it.” Sam began washing the dishes while talking with his roommate. “Yeah, but you won’t let anyone help you since it’s your family’s secret recipe.” Collin standing up quickly from the table feeling a bit of heft to his body that he was not used to. He walked over to put his now spotless spoon in the sink for his roommate to wash. “And it’s staying that way. If you wanna try and recreate it, be my guest.” After Collin put away his spoon, he began grazing the counter for any other treats he could snack on. He saw that Sam had already finished making the dip for tomorrow. He reached into the pantry and grabbed some chips. Shoveling out the dip and into his mouth. Letting out the occasional “Mmm”. “Hey. The dip might not be as well renowned as the pudding, but I’d still like to serve it tomorrow,” said Sam grabbing the dip and hoisting it in the fridge. “You’re no fun.” Collin put his chips back in the pantry with defeat. “Can you at least make me something that I can eat?” “Do I look like your mother? No. You’re a grown ass man. You can cook your own food,” said Sam as he went back to cleaning the dishes. “Pleeeeeease Sam? I’m letting you have this barbeque. Just make one sandwich for me.” Collin again went down to Sam’s level and gave him the puppy dog face. Quivering his lip every now and then for dramatic effect. “You’re getting way too good at that. Fine, I’ll make you a sandwich.” “Again, you’re the best.” “Yeah yeah yeah. Just get me out everything you want on it. I’m almost done with the dishes and then I’ll make it.” Collin grabbed bread, cheese, and butter. He was wanting a grilled cheese, but not your average one. He also pulled out some jalapeños, some bacon and even grabbed a spice that Sam was using before. “Got it. Now what?” “Why don’t you start cooking the bacon and slicing the jalapeños? I’m almost done with the dishes and I’ll cook it for you after that.” Collin did as he was told. Frying the bacon and dicing up the jalapeños while dashing bits of spice onto them. “Alright everything’s ready. Done with the dishes yet?” “Almost. Why don’t you grill it and I’ll eat it when I’m done?” “You’ve been done with dishes for a while now, haven’t you?” Collin said while throwing his sandwich on the skillet. “And you didn’t cook all day, did you?” “I retract my previous statement. You are no longer the best.” He picked up his sandwich and took it to the dining room “Nope. I’m better.” Sam walked in and joined his roommate with a banana to eat. “So how has everyone done in terms of keeping their distance?” asked Collin between bites. “From what I can tell, good. I don’t have ankle bracelets on them so there’s no real way to know, but from what they’ve said, they have been.” “They’d better.” Collin said getting up to put his plate away. As Collin got up, Sam noticed his shirt was riding up a little more on his belly. Nothing too severe, but it definitely bulged out from his body a little more. Sam followed him into the kitchen and threw his banana peeled into the trash. “Need anything else before I head to bed?” “Maybe just help me put everything away,” said Sam as he walked by his roommate to make room in the fridge for everything he’d prepared. He turned around to grab the food only to see his roommate’s pecs right in his face. ‘That’s odd. Normally I’m eye level with Collin’s chin.’ “Hey Collin, did you get taller?” Collin looked down at his roommate. He’d always been a few inches taller than him, but Sam was looking particularly small tonight. “I doubt it. I stopped having growth spurts a while ago. Maybe you just shrank?” laughed Collin, ruffling his roommate's hair. After the kitchen was completely clean, Collin started walking toward his room. “Night tiny.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Night big guy.” He watched Collin walk away. His eyes lingering on his fat ass. I looked like it was pushing those poor shorts to their limit. Watching it wobble from side to side. Each cheek looked like a soccer ball. Sam knew what he’d be jerking off to tonight. He headed to his room and shut the door. After a quick jack, he went to bed, excited for their get together tomorrow. For more updates, story ideas, or general MG stuff, Follow my twitter: https://twitter.com/Musclesaber
  2. Supercrav

    m/m A friend at last

    I wanted to start a short something, but it's already starting to draft all over the place... So here's some beginning, why not sharing? I almost haven't proofread it, hope it's readable. Don't hesitate to correct me, please, again ************ They didn't know it was love at first. But at the moment their eyes met both got struck by a feeling they never had before. Gunther was on his way back from the gym, and Jack was smuggling cigarettes on the sidewalk. Gunther was already a pro bodybuilder, living in his bubble, the shy 7'2 giant had no friend to speak of and his life was nothing but bodybuilding discipline. The smaller, scrawny Jack made a joke about Gunther as he was passing by. It was late and there was only the two of them on the street at that time. Gunther looked at the guy, the spell caught them, and Gunther laughed a little, as the joke wasn't insulting, and actually fun and smart. Jack, who had never seen a man so colossal, gorgeous, powerful in his life, quickly fired another witty line, as he was determined to try to extend this moment in the presence of the sublime God for as long as possible, maybe even interact with him. Even if it would be lasting a handful of seconds, an encounter of such mind blowing proportion was a chance of a lifetime. The conversation started, the wise and clever Jack skillfully extruding every single concentrate drop of his natural charm, and it worked quite well, as Gunther was amazed at how effortless and comforting it felt to socialize with the little bandit. Meanwhile, Jack started clearing his merchandise out of the ground. When done he put his backpack on, and naturally they started walking as their pleasant exchange went on. Jack was supposed to go in the opposite direction, but doing so hadn't crossed his mind the slightest : not a thing in the world could beat the necessity of drenching his own soul in the violent, intense flood of pure extreme maleness projected all around his body by the superhuman next to him. Not to stare drooling out of his fallen jaw at the miraculous demonstration of nature's infinite greatness walking by his side, Jake mostly looked at the floor on the way. Are that feet ? Oh gosh, that's... insane, I never thought feet could get so big. I could put a skateboard with each of his sneakers. Hell, he's almost bursting through them, I can see the muscles of his feet bulging through the fabric as he walks. Jake realized that he still hadn't seen the hands that went with it. Gunther had his hands stuck in the pocket of his huge parka all the time. He would try to fix this at the next intersection. " Gunther tell me, I'm rather new around here, St Charlotte station is over this way, right?" Bingo, Gunther took out one hand to point at the right street. As he was giving Jack directions, it occurred to him that he wasn't listening a single word, he was aghast, eyes popping out, stunned by the size and bulk of the hand up there. Gunther stopped pointing and exposed his hand flat in front of his new friend's face. " Yes, I know, I'm a freak." And put his hand back in his coat. Jake poked fun at him. " Oh my poor man, you're as tall as it gets, built like a barn, packed with fucking humongous muscles overflowing everywhere, the idol of millions of people, the dream of every woman, and your hands are too big what a shame. - Hehe, oh, OK, forget it." Now he had a smile on his face. Cool. Jack had never felt attracted to a man before. Not sexually attracted mind you, but this went way further than likeness and early friendship. Along with a loud and raspy cloud of solid body odor you could cut through. There could be no one else on earth but Gunther, this grotesque overload of explosive male power to unleash a stench of this amplitude over his surroundings. Jack was floating in a daze from this exquisite, divine perfume. In front of Gunther's house they said goodbye, exchanging their numbers. Once inside, Gunther stared at the note and he felt bad. He didn't want to let Jack go. It would have been kinda weird to invite him in his house. Around 1 AM, as he couldn't sleep, Gunther was staring at his phone. He wasn't sleeping, in fact, because he had been hesitating to call Jack for the last three hours. And now it was far to late to call him anyway, so that was a blunt point. Yet, every fiber of his muscles was dying to call and talk to Jack. Waiting even more would make things even worse... OK he had set his mind now, he feverishly dialed Jack's number, and when he pressed the call button the phone started ringing. With the same number on the screen... It was Jack calling him. They spent the night over the phone. Gunther called jack again just before noon after his training, during three hours, and around 7PM Jack called Gunther, until 11:17, when his battery went dead. They became inseparable. Jake stopped his wheeling and dealing habits as Gunther didn't like it so much, so he found a job in a e-cig shop. The cool thing is he had found a way to modify his shift schedule so Gunther could come have lunch with him every day, and after work, if went to Gunther's gym and waited for him outside. Then they would usually spend the evening at Gunther's home. Jack once told Gunther that if he didn't take his shower at the gym, it would shorten his wait. Gunther really didn't feel like changing his routine, as the routine was all he had in his life before Jack ; but that question was a no brainer, if something could please Jack in any way, Gunther would instantly comply and do whatever it takes to make it happen, so that slight change wasn't a big deal. Not a big deal for Gunther, but that was a smart move from Jack, if a bit slyly : this way, not only he could enjoy the full intensity of his friend's muscle sweat smell he loved so much on the way home, but also, having Gunther showering at home led every night, to the most amazing, exclusive, breathtaking event that could ever exist, the emergence of the greatest and disturbingly monumental celebration of the supreme magnificence that could only be obtained by the male bodybuilder featuring the most revolting abuse of muscular hypertrophy overkill, emphasized by the fantastic pump provided by the unreal workout that ended minutes ago. The giant's powerful and respect commanding bare feet, deeply planted in the soft thickness of the room's carpeting, that was sprinkled, in a large area around them, by water dripping from the soaking wet and glistening body gloriously naked except for the small towel he held around his waist. As Jack's gaze lingered upwards, relishing the divine accumulation of muscular heaps, each more fascinating and delicious that next, the formidable Gunther waited patiently for his deer friend to fully feast his adoring eyes and slobber over all of this overwhelmingly luscious and monstrously abusive muscular profusion. When Jack's stare finally reached the head that was almost at the top of the mountain of muscle, he was rewarded by the perfect, broad smile that was up there for him, on a face that was so manly, so powerful, so handsome that it was also unreal, and the kindest look in the eyes of his beloved Gunther, who then said something in the like of "It really feels great, thank you buddy !" - and then went back in the bathroom putting on fresh clothes. Soon, the evening at Gunther's went from being a regular occurrence to an every day routine, as they became more and more intimate with each other, Gunther bothered less and less to get dressed after his shower, and went directly sitting on the couch next to his little friend, and the towel never stayed tied around his waist for very long, and they spent hours every night watching stuff on TV, but chatting mostly about nothing and everything, sharing, laughing, and opening their hearts. Offering the contact of his naked body to Jack, as he was sitting next to him, felt a bit weird to Gunther the first few times. And it had to be this way, as Gunther's body filled almost all of the couch when he was sitting in it, so there was no way to avoid physical contact even if they had tried to. But Gunther made that move because he was loving his friend Jack so much. Jack had lit up his life, he even wondered how he could have been making through it before meeting him. Gunther had always considered himself uninteresting and bland as a person, unworthy of anyone respect not attention, and clearly that was his motivation when he dedicated his life to hardcore bodybuilding, he wanted some people to notice him, and exist. It never really worked, as he was still withdrawn socially. He thought it would make him a King, popular, and get lots of girls, but it didn't work that way. Sure, he was considered the King of bodybuilding, the God even, and he was happy to have achieved it, yet it resulted more in contractual obligations, uncomfortable situations with a spotlight that wouldn't go away, and unwanted attention. Sure, a few girls would be all over him more often than not, in these kind of annoying, stressful events especially, but, they are so aggressive and demanding, he satisfied a few in the beginning, as they questioned his virility to get their ways, but he didn't fall for it anymore. He got to the conclusion that maybe he wasn't interested in girls so much, it seemed. So, that intense, profound friendship he had with Jack, something he had never felt before, and the best feeling he ever had, was so unique and miraculous, Gunther was terrified at the idea of loosing this. He knew, and there was no way around it, it was bound to happen, and he was baffled that it hadn't already, some day Jack would realize how uninteresting, shallow, unworthy and utterly stupid Gunther was, and then move on and set sail. Jack was so smart, quick, fun, charming, Gunther had no idea how to keep up with Jack, and didn't what to do. Jack was politely having conversations with him, but Gunther knew that he couldn't contribute much, there was no way anything he would say could be anything but laughably stupid and boring and useless, as Jack enlightened and impressed him every second. Sometimes Gunther thought of something to say that might be of interest, or a relevant question, but didn't dare to let it out, as it would certainly have the opposite effect and expose his stupidity and ignorance even more. Jake could feel that Gunther was uneasy and nervous at these moments, and tried to encourage the man to share his thoughts. Not pressing him by any means, but through a comforting, welcoming attitude. And each time Gunther finally expressed thoughts about the subject at hand, Jake listened attentively, and showed great interest in Gunther's input, praising the wisdom and pertinence of Gunther's observations. Gunther didn't really believe that Jake was mocking him, although he couldn't help considering the eventuality ; or if Jake was probably just being the adorable, delightful, delicious man that he was. Yet Gunther felt inadequate, useless, unable to please Jack. On the other hand, Gunther had noticed some strange behavior Jack had sometimes... He would have his eyes almost popping out of their sockets, a trickle of saliva continuously pouring down his dropped jaw, his hands wildly shaking, awestruck when Gunther was kinda close to him. From there, after hours and hours of intense reflection, Gunther had a stroke of pure genius. The most clever idea he had ever come up with. Gunther, his brain severely aching from processing all the data involved in this incredibly complex, intricate enigma. He decided to take a chance on the mischievous course of action he had in mind. Gunther didn't want to trick nor deceive Jack in any way, he respected and cared about him so much. But as Jack's patience and kind tolerance was about to wear off any second, he had to do something, anything, even if it sounded crazy. Or at least far fetched, as this was Gunther's plan : someway, somehow, he had to find a way to keep strong this improbable, unexpected bond linking him with that man. But how could it be possible, with no brains to speak of, and being as uninteresting as it gets? Suddenly, in the middle of a legs extension set, after days of relentless torture over this question, the solution sparked into Gunther's mind.
  3. This is my first story. It's going to have bite sized chapters and very regular updates (most likely daily). This is a m/m superhero romance. The first two chapters are mostly set up, but after that every chapter has plenty of sexy muscle and feats of strength, so please stick with it! Chapter 1 It began as all the best love stories do: with terrorism. The 24th of March 2013 is much like any other day. Hugo Chavez recently died, triggering what would go on to become an economic crisis in Venezuela, the UN security council has just slammed North Korea with harsh new sanctions, Justin Timberlake is topping the charts with ‘Mirrors’, protestors are waving signs outside Parliament, protesting about something, pigeons are shitting, rain is pouring, and I'm on my way to work. The newly opened Shard is difficult to miss. It towers over London’s skyline, jutting into the clouds like the lair of a comic book villain. I make my way inside, flashing my ID as I go. ‘Jake Langley’, it says in large capital letters, along with an employee number and my date of birth. I only show it as a courtesy - the security guards have all memorised my face by now. I sometimes wonder what they think of me. Am I ‘that cute, fresh faced little pastry chef with the dimples’ or do they just see me as a child straight out of college, coasting by on boyish looks, with no clue what he’s doing? I’d like to think it was the former. I’d like to. But I don’t. I wish I was the kind of guy who had the guts to ask. The kind who knows he's good enough, who knows he's not going to be rejected or shut down. But even if I wasn't gay, I will never be that kind of guy. It's not in my nature. I'm not assertive or domineering. I smile, wave, and make pastry. That's my nature. I slip by in this hyper masculine world by being too small for anyone to see as a threat. And for the most part, it works. The kitchens still shine like the day they were installed, which wasn't that long ago. Most kitchens are crowded, starkly lit places where you can barely move an inch without bumping into someone or knocking something over, but not this one. Natural light pours through the floor-to-ceiling windows, treating us to a view of London that millions of people would kill for. But I'm not here for the views. Okay, maybe a little bit. But mostly, I'm here to do my job. I find my little corner and start preparing for the day’s guests. It's a Sunday, so we're expecting a lot of traffic. There isn’t an overpaid banker in London who doesn’t salivate over the idea of lunch at the Shard. Russian oligarchs, Saudi oil barons, British royalty, Colombian drug lords - we serve them all. I don’t care who they are or what they do. It's none of my business. It sounds like a simple, boring job - making pastry. You’d be surprised at how much there is to it. There’s a reason they have pastry chefs – this is a difficult thing to get right. It's always come easily to me. I find something calming about rolling out a sheet of puff, spreading on the butter, folding it over, and rolling it out again. There's a rhythm to it. My movements soon become mechanical and I can feel myself floating away into a distant world where I'm someone interesting, somewhere interesting, doing something interesting. The kitchen hums around me as the first orders come in. Pans clink, hobs fizzle, water gurgles as it boils. I can barely hear the orders being barked over it all. But I'm not really paying attention. Boom. I can feel a wave of pressure pass through my feet, up to my head, and down again. Everything is shaking; the walls, the floor, the windows. Pots rattle above my head on their hooks. I turn to see the kitchen staff frozen, eyeing one another with pointed glares. I don't think I've ever seen this room so quiet. “What was that?” I hear one of them whisper, his voice carrying clear across the room. No one answers. Was it an earthquake? It couldn’t be. Earthquakes aren’t instantaneous, they're gradual. Then it comes again, much louder. BOOM. I don’t know if it's the ringing in my ears or the shaking beneath my feat, but I'm suddenly hunched over a table, flour covering my hands, gasping for breath. I don't know how long I spend there, trying to comprehend what's going on. It must be a minute or two, at least. My daze is broken as an alarm whirrs into life, high pitched and screaming. Red lights flash. All at once, the shock turns to chaos. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. They're coming faster now, from all over the building. I can feel them in my bones. While others run for the doors, I huddled under my table. What the hell is going on? My eyes drift to the windows, where black smoke is billowing up past our floor, carrying dust and paper. Fuck. I watched 9/11 unfold on live TV and I was here when they locked down London during the 7/7 attacks. It's impossible to ignore the reality of what's going on. This is a terrorist attack. I can see dark shapes floating past outside, just beyond the smoke. Choppers. News choppers. When I had dreamed of appearing on TV, I was thinking more along the lines of Deal or No Deal, not this. Anything but this. I'm now alone in the kitchen. I don't know when that happened. I presume everyone else has fled. My gaze flickers to the open door as I try to decide what to do. Maybe if I run now, I could get out before the building collapses. Or maybe the lower floors are experiencing the worst of it, and I'm best waiting up here while the blaze is brought under control. Is there anything here I could turn into a parachute? No, I scold myself. That’s pointless and stupid. I’d never break through those windows anyway. Turning on my phone, I check the BBC. The first result is a live video of the Shard, burning in a dozen places. The news anchors are speaking but I can’t hear a word of it. I watch the screen in horror as the fire begins to creep outward from the explosion sites. One of them is pretty close to this kitchen. Placing my hands on the ground, I feel warmth. There’s a rumbling sensation. Something is crackling not far from our door. As fast as I can, I slam it shut, backing away with a hiss as the handle burns my skin, leaving it red and blotchy. Now there’s smoke trickling in through the vents and the air is getting hazy. Pulling a wet cloth over my mouth, I run around the kitchen and turn on all the taps and block all the drains. They overflow one by one, spilling out onto the floor until there’s a pool of water an inch deep. This won’t save me, but it might slow the spread. It’s getting seriously hot in here. I clutch my burned hands around the wet cloth, which eases the pain, but nothing can stop the coughing fits. There’s soot clogging my lungs and in my eyes, causing them to water uncontrollably. The air is so thick now that I can barely see from one end of the room to the other. My only sign that the door has buckled is the red tongues of flame licking at the ceiling. At the same time, I’m hit by a wave of heat so overwhelming that my only option is to curl up on the floor and cover my face as I feel the skin of my back start to blister. Then something astonishing happens. Something so unusual that I wonder if I’m hallucinating. There's a silhouette visible through the smoke. A man. He's enormous, and seems completely unphased by the fire caressing every inch of his body. His eyes find me on the floor, and a look of relief flits across his face. I blink, and he’s suddenly leaning over me. How did he move so fast? I open my mouth to ask, but only a ragged cough comes out. Two huge arms gently scoop me up. I press my face into his chest to escape the heat. Somehow even in the middle of a burning skyscraper, his touch makes me feel safe. Protected. Isn’t that strange? I hear the sound of shattering glass, feel a rush of cold air on my neck. The arms wrap more tightly around me. The lurching in my stomach tells me we’re moving, and I try to look around, but one hand on the back of my head keeps me locked to his chest. As the adrenaline fades, my body starts to scream in pain. I’ve never felt such agony. It’s only a matter of time before blackness is creeping into my vision, clouding my mind. And then I’m gone.
  4. londonboy

    m/m A General Increase (Parts 1-6)

    The man wrote the number forty-five on the calendar page sitting on the desk and then circled it three times. He stared at what he had jotted down for a long time. It seemed so far away, but after anticipating that day for so many years, what was another month and a half. Pages were quickly flipped – like a movie scene where you move into the future. The turning stopped on a page that was covered in hand drawn stars and the word ‘retirement’ underlined about seven times. The man’s finger ran across the word lovingly – or hesitantly. And then, just as quickly, the pages were moved back to the present date. General Artemis (Art) David Scala returned to the forms on his desk. Paperwork that required his signature. As he put pen to paper, the desk wobbled, causing the man’s signature to go wildly off the line. An expletive was muttered under his breath and then Art slid back his chair and carefully bent forward to readjust the piece of cardboard that had come loose from under one of the legs. He knew that one false move could make his back go out, which usually caused him to hit his head on the metal piece of furniture he had been battling for seventeen years. Once the cardboard had been wedged in place, the General slowly returned to a sitting position – careful to not twist the wrong way. He glanced at his signature – terribly askew – and contemplated asking his assistant, Private Ron Sanders, to print out another copy of the page, but he realized that this was just his obsessive compulsiveness about things being neat and tidy getting the best of him. He glanced at his clock and saw that it was almost time to go down to the lab. “Ron!” “Yes, General.” “Jesus! You scared me. What were you doing – hanging out by the door?” “Yes sir. I saw what time it was.” Damn, this kid was a great assistant. It almost unnerved the General how Ron could anticipate almost everything that his boss would need – from bringing coffee mere seconds before a request was going to be made to opening the office door right when said coffee had run its course and a bathroom was needed. Coffee did that to the General – well, coffee and his age. A need to pee could come on with little warning, but Ron always seemed to be one step ahead and ready to make the General’s dash always successful. A brawny twenty-one-year-old who’s six-foot frame always made Art feel a little intimidated – even though his uniform had so many stars every soldier on the base snapped to attention in his presence. Ron was definitely the son Art Scala had never had. The General, however, never played favorites and, if asked, Ron probably would have said his boss barely noticed him. That was far from the truth. “I have all those papers, here, for you.” “Yes sir,” the young man said as he stepped to the desk to take the folder. “Any news from the lab?” “I’m afraid so, sir. It seems the tests, today, did not go well. Dr. Brown called the latest round a complete failure and thinks they’ll have to return to the drawing board and start over.” “Damn, damn, damn. I bet that put Martha is a terrible mood. I almost want to skip going down there to talk to her.” Martha Brown was brilliant. Art Scala had personally requested she be hired for this job. She was also as much of a perfectionist as he was. She had been working feverishly for six years to find a way to enhance fossil fuels. To make natural gas – what she called – a hundred times stronger than it already was. She wanted to somehow make it last longer, do more work with less effort, to basically become ‘super’ powered. Another setback in her work would not only be discouraging for her, but it was going to make the Pentagon take a closer look at the continually failed work she was doing. Art knew that in forty-five days he would no longer be here to defend her. Whoever was put in his place would probably side with the powers that be and her project would no longer be funded. “I might as well get this over with. Let’s go to the lab, Ron.” “Yes sir.” Art Scala had turned sixty-eight two weeks ago. He had put off retirement for three years in hopes that Martha Brown would have some success. He knew he couldn’t put it off again. Even at retirement age, the General was what the girls in the front office called ‘a catch.’ He was a broad-shouldered, barrel-chested, bull of a man with graying temples that only made him more handsome. He could still command respect just from entering the room, but he also knew his king-of-the-pack days were almost over. It took him a lot longer to recover from a cold, he ached for days after a hard workout, and getting out of bed without any aches and pains was impossible. It was time for some younger buck to take the lead at this base. They were a secret facility out in the middle of a desert that was out in the middle of nowhere. Hell, Art didn’t think he could find the place if he didn’t come and go in a helicopter with an excellent pilot. The General didn’t know what it would be like to live back among civilians – in a regular city. He knew he was going to find out in a few months, though. He paused briefly at the door to the lab. Ron, knowingly, waited for his boss to be ready. With a heavy sigh, the General opened the door and went in – followed by his assistant. “What’s the good news, Martha?” the General said when he saw the red-headed brilliant chemist coming towards him. She had been alone in the lab. “General, don’t patronize me. We both know you already heard we haven’t had success. You have the most efficient assistant on the planet. I will steal him one day. I’m really sorry, Art. You deserve better news.” “Oh Martha, you never were one to beat around the bush, were you. I’m sorry for you. What seemed to be the problem – and don’t use all that chemist jargon I don’t understand. Tell it to me in layman’s terms.” “My perfect enhancement formula doesn’t want to get it on with the fossil fuels. It’s like the football team captain is trying to seduce a devout lesbian that hates athletes. It’s like…” “I get the point,” the General said, smiling. “What if you threw in some alcohol? That always helps opposites attract.” “Not in this case, I’m afraid. I think alcohol would dull the power of the enhancement formula – it might not know how to ‘get it on,’ so to speak.” “Then you start over, Dr. Brown. Isn’t your motto “Now you know,” when something goes wrong?” “Yes, it is,” Martha said, smiling, “But we both know you have limited time here and I won’t have the big scary General to fight all the bureaucratic bullies anymore. I’m wondering if I might skip out before you do.” “Nonsense! Start again. Tonight, if you have too. I believe in you. Let’s keep fighting until we can’t anymore. I leave in forty-five days – that’s a lot of time. And the military might be very slow to replace me. You might even have six months to a year. Back to work, my dear.” “Um, Dr. Brown,” Ron said, after clearing his voice, causing both the General and the doctor to turn toward him with looks of surprise. It wasn’t like Ron to interject with a comment. “Have you tried the enhancement formula on anything else besides fossil fuels?” “Like what, Ron?” Martha asked. “I don’t know . . . supplements, foods . . . animals.” “Well, we have tried it on all of those things and more, except animals. We have not gotten clearance to test this on living things . . . well, except micro-organisms. So far, we’ve batted zero on everything. We did have some organisms that seemed to become different after we mixed the formula with them, but then they just returned to normal. It was very discouraging.” “I see,” said Ron, “Thank you.” “Martha, let’s chat a little about your next plan of attack,” the General said, glancing back at Ron – confused by his interruption. He moved Martha off to the side to chat with her, privately. Ron walked around the lab. He had learned a long time ago when his boss needed him to be invisible. And right now, that’s exactly what Ron wanted. He stood to the side, looking at all the testing materials while the General and the doctor spoke. Soon, the General turned and started to exit. Ron followed. When they were back in the hallway the General turned to his assistant. Ron was nervous that he was in trouble . . . that he had overstepped the boundaries. Artemis Scala put his arm around the younger man’s shoulder – something he had never done before. “How about you and I go have a drink at the Officer’s Club, First Lieutenant?” “I can’t go there, sir…” he began, but then he fully comprehended what the General was saying. “Any officer, approved for his promotion, but waiting for the paperwork, can accompany another officer into the club. Section blah, blah, blah of the official military rules on Officer’s Clubs. It came through today, son. Congratulations. You deserve it. I promised I would get this promotion for you before I left and, by god, I did. At least something good has happened today.” “I’m speechless, sir.” “That would be a first, Ron,” the General said, laughing and then they headed out. ********* “May I get the drinks, sir? It would please me a lot.” “Of course, Ron. I’ll have a double whiskey. I need something to make the day a little more tolerable.” Ron walked to the bar and ordered the drinks. He was nervous as hell, this being his first time in the Officer’s Club, but there seemed to be something more. He fumbled around the bar for a little longer than he would have liked, but the General had been busy talking to other officers when Ron got back – so he didn’t notice. Ron handed his boss his drink and there were beads of sweat gathering on his brow. The General thought it was adorable – watching his unflappable assistant become rattled just because he was around all the officers for the first time. They brought their glasses together, the General impressed that Ron asked for the same drink. “To your health,” Art said, smiling. “And to yours, sir,” Ron replied and they both took big gulps. ********* Ron loved the General. Wait – years of therapy had taught Ron to be more precise with his thoughts - Ron was in love with the General – deeply and hopelessly in love. The General counted down the days to his retirement with a little sadness, but mostly with excitement. Ron counted the days with nothing but despair – his own desk calendar marking the time left, as well. Whenever Ron contemplated his boss his hands unconsciously went up to his own nipples and he scraped them with his thumbnails and pinched them hard. Fur covered pecs – seen with secret, furtive glances at the gym. A deep, gravelly voice that made Ron’s ass tighten. A wide he-man bubbled butt, which still ignored gravity even at his age. Thick legs that looked as sturdy as trees. A face that perpetually had a five-o’clock shadow. How could any gay man on earth not fall in love with this man. Of course, Ron had never let his feelings for the older man interfere with his work. Ron was the consummate professional when it came to his job. Everyone told him so. But when he was in the privacy of his own bungalow his desire for the General was not hidden. A stolen used jock kept sealed in a Ziploc bag and taken out for late night sniffing. A flannel shirt not washed since it was taken – worn to bed on cold nights so Ron’s bed smelled like the General. Multiple pictures snapped inconspicuously and printed on special photo paper so they’d last longer. Ron’s shrine to his boss. The private acknowledged and accepted how weird his actions were. He was always as honest with himself as possible. He was simply head-over-heels in love with General Artemis Scala. That’s why he had made the decision to help his boss. He knew the General was getting older. He could see how the love of his life had trouble sometimes rising from a low-sitting chair. He noticed the grimaces on his face the day after hard workouts. He could see that the General was tired. Ron didn’t question his decision to do something about it. He never doubted that he was supposed to find a way to make the General feel better. He even decided that being court-martialed for insubordination would be justified – in his mind – if he extended the vitality and the life of the man he would love forever. It was worth getting in trouble, if he could just help the General. That’s why Ron stole an entire vial of Martha Brown’s enhancement chemical while she was talking to the General. That’s why he had poured it into the glass of whiskey he had served the General that very evening. That’s why he now pinched his own nipples unconsciously looking into the bathroom mirror of the Officer’s Club after he had stepped away for a few minutes to calm down. The man of his dreams was going to be enhanced . . . or dead . . . within twenty-four hours. It was now just a waiting game.
  5. Chapters 1-4 are posted in this thread. https://muscle-growth.org/topic/17081-to-protect-and-serve-ch3-posted-3152019/ Chapters 5 and moving forward will be posted in this thread, since updates to the title can't be made in the old thread. Any reference to anyone in this (or subsequent) chapter who is an actual living person in no way is an endorsement of this work by them. Rather it is a bit of hero worship or world building to make the story a touch more real. Beginning particularly with Chapter 6, I will include trigger warnings, as some very real world violence that police dealing with the drug trade see and experience will be referenced or depicted in some manner that could disturb some readers. Chapter 5 - Predator and Prey 5.5 months after the Accident “As best as we can determine at this point, this is the approximate flow of the drug pipeline. As you can see, there are three major trunks that parallel military posts and freeways coming out of Southern California, roughly north paralleling the coast, northeast, and east. And, thanks in no small part to our Albuquerque and Los Angeles informants, I have been able to put together that these major lines run to at least San Antonio on the eastern branch, from San Diego to Seattle on the coastal branch, and at least as far as Omaha along the main northeast line. “Of course, those lines will branch further to individual bases such as Hill in Utah. But, I am almost certain the main lines run until they come into contact with the East Coast flow coming up from Florida. But this is what we have been able to establish for certain at this point.” Even in the darkened, secured briefing room at Peterson Air Force Base, it was plain to see that John towered over the assembled military officers and civilian officials. Behind him as he slowly paced at the front of the room, was a presentation he and Colonel Daugherty had put together for the briefing. Over the previous hour, John had walked the six law enforcement officials - the 4 USNORCOM heads of military police of each of the service branches, the FBI Special Agent-In-Charge for California, and the DEA Special Agent-In-Charge for the El Paso DEA Intelligence Center - sitting around the conference table through the particulars of the evidence developed in his undercover investigation. The lights came up in the room. “Thank you gentlemen for your attention. Colonel Dougherty and I are happy to answer any questions you have.” Captain Richard Lehman, USN, was the first to speak up, “First, thank you Detective Declann. This is no small amount of work. Warren, we all knew we had issues with this. But to this extent. The sheer scale of this. It seems unlikely that this could be hidden from us for so long. Are we sure about this?” “John?” Dougherty said, fielding the question to Declann. “It is as sure as we can make it at this point, Captain. The flow direction and the volume is a certainty. As for particular individuals and suspects, I have only listed those that I have direct, first hand knowledge of. However, how it has been kept under the radar, is known. I am sure you all noticed that those I have been able to identify are attached to law enforcement in some capacity. Military or civilian police, JAG - the leaders of the drug ring selected these men very carefully. While all are not consumers of the product, they all serve a function. In one way or another, they are in positions to pay off or bury any evidence that surfaces. That is exactly what we saw in Boulder that got my work on this started.” “Rick, I can substantiate some of this too. Four of the individuals Detective Declann came into contact with have popped up on our radar in the last couple of years.” DEA SAC Ron Michaelson interjected. “The infuriating thing has been that as soon as some sniff of evidence develops, it just disappears. We could never trace it, but this makes all the pieces fit. As Detective Declann said, the total volume coming in we know from street level investigations on our own. That has never been in question. Just how it was moving without being seen was what stumped us. But, even I must admit this kind of operation and coordination surprises me too. However … it just brings together a lot of pieces. Of course, we will have to fill in the blanks. But it makes sense.” FBI SAC Jeff Wilson spoke up in an exaggerated “smitten like a teenage girl” tone, “First, I have to say, Detective -- where in the hell have you been hiding all my life?” All the men around the room laughed, but then cracked up that much harder when John’s reflexive blushing made an appearance. The laughter calming, Wilson continued, “Seriously, I have about a hundred investigations I would love to let you loose on. This is some of the best investigation and documentation on a case of this scope I have ever seen. And for just one man to do it … when the time comes, I think we will get a shit ton of guilty pleas. “But, my biggest concern is why I gather it is only us here instead of a full task force. Operational security.” “Jeff is right,” Marine Lieutenant Colonel Jack Johnson replied. “I have no idea how we are going to investigate this and keep it hidden. If they are as connected into our ranks as it appears, I do not know who in my own office I can trust. If only they looked like you Detective Declann - no offence intended - we could get everything coordinated and executed in a week. But, these men and women are not exactly screaming ‘Please test me for steroids’ like the obvious inclination to test you would be.” “No offense taken Colonel.” John replied as he took his seat at the table. Even seated and in a suit, John looked like he was bigger than any two of the men in the room put together. “And that is the largest single issue that is in front of us. The more I keep pressing, the more even I am going to give this away. Too many questions from the same source.” Dougherty spoke up, “And that is what we need to determine now. Because at best we have 2 months for planning, investigating, and execution of an operation. We can hold up orders for transfers and such maybe that long without attracting attention. And God help us, if any of the people involved get scattered around the planet. We will not be able to touch them outside of US territory before they collapse this thing, and we will be left with nothing. We can’t risk taking more than 60 days maximum.” Nods and verbal affirmations sounded at once around the room. “Well, let’s get to brass tacks. With your OK Jeff, Ron, the easiest decision is to put John in charge of the civilian end of things in Colorado and Wyoming.” Wilson chucked, “Wish every man we need to bring is as easy and obvious as you Detective.” “As long as I can hire you away later…” Michaelson assented. “Trust me, it won’t work. I’ve already tried.” Dougherty quipped. “Can’t blame a man …” Michaelson said with a half smile. “And Warren, I think I can speak for Bill,” said Johnson, “when I say we would both like to meet with you Detective and get our ducks in a row for Fort Carson and the marines we have stationed here who could be involved.” Colonel William James, USA, nodded his accent. John looked at both men. “Of course, gentlemen, I am happy to help anyway I can, but how can I explain my involvement on posts that aren’t Air Force?” James looked at Johnson and smiled as he half questioned, “The show?” Johnson laughed, “Jesus Christ, is that not too fucking perfect? Too bad for the others competing that the fix is in. ‘Cause I don’t see any way in hell Detective Declann isn’t going to win the whole thing. Well, what about it John, fancy a trip to Norfolk later in the summer?” Declann looked at Johnson confused, “Sir?” Johnson just smiled more broadly, thinking of more than a few asses he would be happy to see John paste at this thing. “The Southern Colorado Bodybuilding Show. It is in a month, and it is also the mountain states area qualifier for the Armed Forces Nationals later this year in Norfolk. It is open to all active duty personnel and DOD civilian employees. As long as Warren keeps you on the payroll, that means you.” Dougherty laughed, “Well heaven help anyone else on that stage. None of you have seen him in short sleeves even.” Wilson said, “Don’t think there is much of a need. He could be in that suit and still win.” Declann spoke up, “But, Colonel, won’t me doing something like that compromise the investigation. I would have to use my real name and all.” Dougherty looked at his counterparts. “JAG?” The other five men nodded at once. Dougherty continued, “John, we have a provision just for this. If we are conducting an investigation that requires one of our men to act undercover but in a public capacity or performance of some kind, we have a JAG hearing officer sign off on allowing that agent, in this case you, to act in that public performance and everything associated with it under an assumed name. Functions basically as a sting operation and will cover anything you may do or evidence you develop from an entrapment accusation. I can have our JAG sign off as soon as the meeting is concluded.” John smiled, “It will be my first bodybuilding show you know…” “No way,” Lehman replied in shock. “You? Your first?” “Yes, Sir. While I have worked out for most of my life, bodybuilding never really interested me until I came onto this investigation.” John replied, telling the absolute truth no one could believe. “Well then it will be nice to have a hand in discovering new talent.” Dougherty said. “OK, let’s get on to the hard stuff.” --- After another 2 hours of discussions, the preliminary plans had been made. Each state along the pipeline would have one and only one military investigator and one civilian agency investigator. John’s military pairing was one of Dougherty’s men at Peterson he had already met. So, that was not a worry to John’s competing in the show to develop arrests for the rest of his assigned areas. As the meeting broke up, John knew the questions would begin … and they did. First was Lehman. “Come on, son, fess up. You really have never done any competition bodybuilding in your life. Ever? You look like the definition of the brick shithouse?” John couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s the truth. My interests are or were limited to martial arts until this. But, I have to admit, the idea of doing more formal bodybuilding has been in my head since I started this investigation. It was amazing just how many coaches, who I learned were of some repute in the sport, were tripping over themselves to get me to sign on with them.” “Forgive me for speaking my mind, son, but they would have been fools not to.” John laughed again. “What did I say that has you so tickled? Kind of odd to hear a man of your size giggle.” “I’m sorry, Captain. Just what you called me. How old do you think I am?” John asked, his confident smirk first starting to show itself for the first time now that the meeting was done. “Late 20’s if I had to guess.” Lehman said, to which John openly grinned. “OK. How old? 30?” “I’ll be 41 in the fall, Captain.” John said. “NOW, I am calling bullshit,” Lehman said to everyone in the room. “This man claims to be 40 years old.” The entire room save John and Dougherty appeared to be in shocked disbelief. “Warren, how old is Detective Declann?” Dougherty, however, never looked up from his briefcase. “John, just show ‘um. They’ll never believe it otherwise.” John pulled out his wallet and took out the driver’s license he had just renewed when he had gotten home. He handed it to Lehman. “Well, I’ll be fucked …” Lehman said now truly stunned. “You really are 40?” “Yes Sir.” John replied and both he and Dougherty laughed. “Don’t feel bad, Captain. It has been happening more and more lately. Including to a certain Air Force colonel, who shall remain anonymous.” “I have no idea at all who that could be.” Dougherty said, feigning ignorance. “Well, wherever you have stashed the fountain of youth, can you give me a bottle?” Johnson said. “You and I are only 2 years apart, but you look more likely to be my son’s age than my brother’s.” “Well, I will ask, but I have it on good authority, the proprietor closed up shop.” John said jokingly. “Well, if you see him again, send him my way, huh? You’re making me look like a slouch, and I got ribbed as a baby face even when I made captain.” Johnson said. “If I do, I’ll send him your way.” “Don’t think I won’t hold you to that, kiddo.” Johnson laughed. “My boss in Boulder is a Marine. I know better than to doubt that you won’t.” Everyone began to leave, and within a few minutes, Declann and Dougherty were alone. “That went way better than I expected.” John said. “You know your shit, and you are prepared. Goes a long way with us.” Dougherty replied. “I need to go to Washington and read in top brass and keep the lid on things there. Be gone for a few days. Should give you and the Army and Corps plenty of time to get things sorted on their ends.” “Colonel, about the show. Before I do it, I will need to speak to my better half to make sure it's OK.” Dougherty looked at John’s ring finger, but he didn’t see anything. “Didn’t realize you were married. Lucky lady.” John smiled thinking of his angel. “I’m not … well yet. But I am thinking about him a lot these days.” Dougherty did look up at that remark but saw the expression on John’s face. “Well … kiddo.” he laughed. “Any one at all who can make you look that smitten. Life is too short not to be happy, John.” “Will see. That is a ways off either way. Cops and doctors do not always mix.” “You mean the British doctor I met … “ John didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have too. Gabriel was the one subject where his ability to hide his feelings crumbled. Dougherty reached up and patted John on the back. “Like I said, life is too short. And, before you even say it, I have been in combat. Before I joined the Force, I was Army special forces. In my enlisted days. man on my team was gay. Back during ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ but where we were and doing what we were doing ... you get to know someone. I never met a finer soldier in my life than him. And now, never met a finer cop. So, you two need something that I can help with, just ask.” “Thank you, Colonel. From both of us.” --- Gabriel walked out of the kitchen with a medium-sized plate of grilled chicken salad. He sat it down with his glass of wine, and in mock pouting, John quipped, “Hey? Where’s mine? I can’t survive on that little plate.” “What is it you love to say, ‘Hold your horses,’” Gabriel chided with a smile. As he turned back to the kitchen, he said loud enough for John to hear, “Never thought I would fall in love with a bottomless pit.” John laughed deeply, marveling at just how lucky he was. Whoever or whatever it was - God or fate or fairies - who had brought him Gabriel, he didn’t know how to repay if he ever could, but the brilliant little man was the answer to so many of his dreams. John never imagined he could be this happy. It was like he was picking the winning lotto numbers over and over. If only what he had to bring up wasn’t even money to ruin the evening… John snapped himself out of that thought as Gabriel came out again, only this time with two large dinner plates filled to near overflowing with chicken, rice, and steamed veggies. Gabriel struggled a moment with even getting them on the table, before John reached and took one of the plates from his hand. Gabriel sat the other down and looked at the man who every moment took his breath away. “You have abs you know. It is scientifically impossible for you to eat all this for just one meal and do it over and over all day long and still have this.” Gabriel lifted the tank top John was wearing and lightly smacked his love’s deep 6 pack. “I should know, I am a doctor.” John cocked a smile. “Jealous?” Gabriel laughed. “Why should I be jealous? I get ALL the benefits, and I do not have to eat like forty people. But you know what?” John cocked an eyebrow. “I love you, bottomless pit and all.” Gabriel kissed John on the cheek, which sent shivers down the great man. Gabriel pulled back and smiled, “Now if I can do that, just think of what I could do with 20 inch arms. You’re lucky I’m small.” Both of them laughed like smitten teenagers, as Gabriel sat down to his salad. They spent the first half of their meals going over their days, what they had done. John talked a lot about a new max squat in the gym, but it wasn’t lost on Gabriel that he had skipped the meeting he was supposed to have had with Colonel Dougherty. John tried to be normal, well as normal as circumstances permitted, but he sighed. He was unsure how to do this. Ever since the night they had erased the computer files at the facility, he and Gabriel and Jack had been talking about how to get more time, to extend how long John could run under the radar. John knew this -- this request could ruin all of what they had thought of. But it was his duty, and before anything except his love for Gabriel, John Declann was a creature of duty. John looked up and met Gabriel’s face with a look of apprehension. “Angel.... I need to ask you something. And with how things are, I don’t know what you are going to think. But, it is a request from the Colonel and everyone else at the meeting today.” Gabriel inwardly prepared himself for something he knew he would not like. He tried not to show it as he answered in the most cheerful voice he could muster, “What is it, handsome?” John took a deep breath. Better to just spit it out, he decided. “Angel, they want me to go under cover again.” Gabriel very nearly dropped his fork mid-bite, and a look of terror came over his face. Setting aside everything else, all the changes and the fear of the people that John had never seen, there was something much more fundamental. He didn’t think he could stand being away from John again. When John saw that look of agony, he realized how it sounded. “No, no Gabriel. This isn’t travelling. Not much. This is in the Springs is all. I’ll be home everyday. “Babe, they just want me to do a bodybuilding show down there next month. Can’t say everything about what they want me to do, but basically to make sure the op is ready to go after the show. It lets me have a reason to be at the bases around here and down there, and it is an armed forces show....” Gabriel’s face changed from a visage of panic to one not of anger, but of concern. “John, how can we hide if you’re getting on a stage in front of the whole world in a few weeks? Jack is coming over tomorrow so we can try and start actually doing some of the things we have been talking about. How do I tell him we have to deal with THIS of all things? You mostly naked on a stage right in front of all of the local military. A few low level brass is one thing. But - a show?” “Believe me, I asked the same thing without getting into what is really happening to me. Warren said that they would have me working under an alias. No one will know my name except for the six who already do and Sheriff Cooke. You know how hard it is for people to even recognize me these days. If Dougherty and I are careful, it should be safe…” John stood up and moved his chair to be next to his man. He sat close and took Gabriel’s hand. “I promise Angel, this is a one time thing. It works for the investigation and, honestly, we can have a little bit of fun with this. With everything that happening, we need to have some small amount of fun with it, with me--” John raised a hand and pointed to his own mammoth muscles. “With this. I mean, they were busting a gut laughing thinking about ME with all of this against those cocky active duty kids.” John lifted Gabriel’s hand to his chest, started to bounce his pecs quickly, and smiled his killer cocky smile. Then, he became serious again resting Gabriel’s hand under his own against the plate of muscle covering his heart. “But, if you say no, then it is a no. I won’t do this without your permission. Anything that you think would put us in danger more than we have to be until we are ready, I will not do. I told the Colonel not to do anything until I called him. So, it is in your hands.” Gabriel looked down and considered for a moment. Then, he looked up, smiled, and said quietly, “It would be fun to see you on stage properly showing off all that stuff you have been learning about bodybuilding …” John smiled and lifted Gabriel’s hand to his lips and kissed it. Gabriel let out a breath. “OK. Since it is for work, and you will be careful, go ahead, John. You can do it.” John reached across the table and returned Gabriel’s earlier kiss on the cheek. Gabriel closed his eyes and sighed. He brought John’s incredibly strong, calloused hand to his other cheek, feeling so much pass between them in that simple touch. Gabriel opened his eyes. “There is just one condition…” “What?” John asked. Gabriel smiled mischievously. “I think I want dessert now.” John’s need had been amping up since he got home, and after that, he couldn’t resist anymore. He stood up and almost ripped Gabriel up out of his chair and into his arms. John dove into his lover, kissing him deeply. John wrapped one arm around Gabriel’s back, while at the same time, Gabriel wrapped his legs around John’s ridiculously small waist. Never letting up for a moment from the passion kiss, John started walking toward the bedroom, enjoying the feeling of Gabriel’s cock growing against his abs. --- Seven o’clock the next morning was greeted by John trotting up to his Jeep. Like every morning since that first shirtless run in Phoenix, he was dressed only in a pair of running shorts and his new size 16 trainers. He jogged in place for a moment as he felt his pulse - and was more than a little frustrated. Five miles just wasn’t cutting it anymore. John had done a 30 minute early morning run for years, and it had always gotten his blood pumping and his heart rate up. But now, he was consistently dropping under six minute miles without even trying. And as he was again confirming from his pulse, the entire five miles had barely increased his heart rate over normal or made him break much of a sweat. It felt like he had just finished a gentle jog rather than making a better pace than most marathon runners. As he popped the top of the liter bottle of water he had left for himself in the passenger seat, he decided to find a secluded spot where no one would see, so that he could pick up his pace and add miles to at least challenge himself. John pulled on a stringer, jumped up into the Jeep, and cranked it. Almost automatically, he reached down to slide the driver’s seat back for comfort …. And it would not move. The seat was as far back as it would go. John chuckled. His growing was marching right on, no matter what the investigation or Gabriel or Jack or anyone else might want. Strange thing was it was just a week ago that he had moved the seat out. He had never had to move it so fast before. Hell, he thought, at this rate, he would have to have the Jeep elongated to get some extra time in it before he outgrew it. John smiled at the thought of needing a custom Jeep to carry his new body. But, after their talk last night, he decided he would ask Gabriel about it later. Sometimes, small thoughts swirled in his mind, worried about what it might be like to be so … different. Then, those thoughts were immediately squashed by some new feat of strength, some new angle he noticed at a new height, or the rush of conquest as he got a new PR in the gym. He had never imagined this bodybuilding life could be so much fun. John popped the stick into reverse and moved out of the parking lot. He had two phone calls to make this morning. The first one was easy. Speed dial 2 and -- “Dougherty,” the clipped voice of his nominal boss sounded on the other end of the line. “Good morning Colonel. Just wanted to tell you, the boss said yes to the show.” “Excellent. I’ll call with the presiding officer - they selected one this morning - and get all of the orders taken care of. All we need is a name.” John thought a minute and like a bolt from the blue inspiration struck. He recited the name to Dougherty. “That’s oddly specific. Any play on words or connection to you that could unravel this?” “None that I know of. Just seems to fit the person I am going to be.” “Fair enough then. I would suggest you go to Boulder and get a set of identity documents made by your office. I am sure the sheriff will be more than willing. You can read him in as far as you feel necessary. And once I have the order, I can do a verbal auth with him to keep the paper trail down. I can have the new Force credentials with my secretary by the time you get down to Colorado Springs today.” “Will do. After that I will head to Fort Carson.” John replied. “I’m sure Bill James will be looking forward to being made to feel small again,” Dougherty said. “When he was a lot younger, he competed in bodybuilding. That’s how the idea came to him so fast. He’s still a fan, so it would not surprise me at all if he is in the audience for your show. Just make sure to rub it in a little bit, huh? We have a bit of a game to “one up” each other whenever we can since I left the army, and you’re one big ass “one up.”” Declann laughed. “I’ll do my best to be as cocky as fuck.” “I’ll get hell from him for this but it will be worth it. I’ll give you a call when I am back in Colorado.” “Yes Sir. And I’ll let you know if there are any major changes on the investigation front.” John and Dougherty hung up. Now, for the fun call. John pulled off the road into a parking lot, dug through a few business cards he had collected from the undercover investigation, and found the number he was looking for in Los Angeles. “Hello” the voice on the other end answered. “Hey man. It’s John Declann. How’s it going?” “Hey Big Guy. Going well. Is this anything to do with the weather out here?” The person on the other end of the line, his LA informant, did exactly as he should have. John had given him the prearranged code should he call back unexpectedly, and if the answer was yes, that meant trouble. This wasn’t trouble though. John was smiling broadly on his end, just waiting for the reaction he knew would come in response to this question. “Nah. We are all good. Wanted to ask a favor on a whole other subject. Remember that show you kept after me abou--” The guy on the other end of the phone nearly shouted, “Holy FUCK, you can’t be serious. You are every bodybuilding coach’s wet dream. You would win this year’s Olympia if you wanted.” John laughed, “Think smaller. Been asked to do a local military show for work, and I know I need help with posing and prep diet.” The voice scoffed, “Diet help my ass. You could have done any show, anywhere from your conditioning 4 weeks ago. And, if anything I’m guessing you’re even better now with summer coming on. “Now. That show rings a bell…” The guy trailed off in thought for a few seconds. Then he said. “You mean the little one that Jeff Taylor puts on near Fort Carson? Think I remember some guys from San Diego go up there every year.” “That’s the one.” The guy roared in laughter. “Oh shit -- Can you say curb stomp? To see that, not only will I be HAPPY to coach you, but I’ll do you one better. I’ll rearrange with my other clients, and I’ll fly up to see you do it. “Then you can do the Colorado State and quality for USA’s, and then win the USA’s, and win the Tampa Pro, twist Jim Manion’s arm to give you a special invite, and still make that Olympia and win. Be a damned shame to get off the train before the final destination.” John rolled laughing. “Down, boy, down. I know they call you Mountaindog, but damn. Almost having to say heel.” “That’s not a no. Means I have a few weeks to convince you.” the man on the other end laughed. “At the very least you have to do something for me. You’re working out at Armbrust right?” John started to let his gym jock out by telling a truth only three people on earth knew that sounded like a cocky boast. “Ya. If it can handle Shaw, it can handle me… for a little while.” Both men laughed. “Just tell me you’re going when Phil is there and making sure he sees you squat. If he thinks you’re doing the Olympia, you’ll make the man swallow his teeth. “Listen, when you get done for the day, hit me up. We will set up Skype and start working on things tomorrow. I’ll make sure Dylan helps you with getting a good poser in time and using his posing room. And - can I send you a text?” John replied, “This number? Go for it.” “Got another friend there. Young guy in his 20’s. Got his open pro card a couple of years ago. He still has some physical development to do, but he has an incredible eye for posing. He can help you work on what I can’t see on video and be there when I’m working with my other guys for their shows. But, you won’t need much. I can already tell you that. From just seeing you mess around at Venice learning, you’re born to posing the way a duck is born to water. “All he will want is to workout with you when he sees what you can do. And that quiet rage you get when you’re working hard - I think that will drive him to push harder when he sees it. He needs to develop that instinct too. That OK?” “Fine by me, but since this is work-related, whoever you tell, you just can’t use my name.” “What name? The fucking Lone Ranger is gonna take bodybuilding by storm.” John laughed, told the other man his alias for the show, and set up a time when he thought he would be back home. He thanked his friend and pulled back onto the road to the Sheriff’s office. By the time John reached Cook’s office, the man already had new credentials made up and ready for him. Damn, John thought, Cook was efficient, and sneaky as fuck when he needed to be. Cook chided Declann a bit for coming into the administrative offices in tank top and shorts though. Cook said that he was making too many of his staff stop and stare. He was costing the taxpayers money. Both of them laughed as Cook said it. John said it happened so much now, he really didn’t notice. But he promised he would be more careful in the future. John then took a few minutes to update Cook on what was happening on the local front of the investigation, his assignment to Colorado and Wyoming, the bodybuilding show cover, and the tentative timeline to execute arrests so that Cook could have the sting within BCSO ready. When Cook stood up to give John the new credential cards for his local ID, he had made a comment that John seemed bigger than last time he was here. Declann kept it to himself, but Cook seemed shorter to him too. Not a tremendous change, mind you, but still smaller than he remembered. Cook thought for a second, but just shrugged it off as getting stooped in his old age. John laughed at that and said he wished he would be nearly as good at 55 years old, and the issue seemed forgotten. Finally, Cook asked John to head to the locker room before he left for Colorado Springs. Cook had changed everything in the BCSO computer system to reflect his new “identity.” Cook knew it had been months since John had been in the office to even open his locker. So it was best to clean out anything that was connected with “John Declann'' since that spot belonged to “someone else” now. John immediately accepted Cook’s advice, as it was something he had overlooked. With that, John stood up, shook Cook’s hand, and walked out of the office - again bringing business in the administrative area to a near halt as people stared at him. John took a moment and went out to his Jeep for his gym bag. It would be plenty big enough to get the things he remembered being in his locker out and away with no one seeing inside. Maybe it was just a faster pace or his longer legs, but it took Declann less time than usual to get to his vehicle and then back inside to the locker room doors. John had to stoop slightly as he pulled open the metal fire doors and entered the officer’s gym and locker room. When the door closed behind him, he paused for a moment looking around and smiling. It wasn’t even 6 months ago when he was petrified of this place and now it was all kind of small. Looking from station to station around the workout area, he realized he would actually be hard pressed to get much of a workout in here now. Maybe some biceps or something high rep but that’s it. John then looked at the incline chest station and chuckled. He decided to get in a few reps, if nothing else than for nostalgia. John crossed the gym, turned left through an open archway, and walked into the men's locker room. His locker was clearly visible from the gym, the seventh inside the arch. He stopped in front of it and popped the key on his key chain into the small padlock hanging there. Cracking the lock open and pulling open the metal door revealed … things that made Declann literally laugh out loud. It seemed like such a lifetime ago he could wear what was in here. Well, the duty belt would still fit - just. But fuck … he pulled out the shirt and then BDU’s and held them up. He would break every stitch and then shred the clothes themselves like the Incredible Hulk if he tried to get into them now. Even the boots were 7 sizes too small. He held the now tiny shoe against his foot and saw that his toes were over 3 inches past the ends of the boots. He truly wondered if he could split them open if he tried to pull them on. John pulled out all his old clothes and uniform, and after each he had a moment of astonishment, wondering how he could have ever been so small. Then, he folded and stacked everything neatly on the end of a small bench near the door, putting the boots on top. He decided he would grab them all after he got in his chest reps. With the gym empty and being the middle of the morning, he thought no one would come in to see it anyway. John went back into the gym area, ripped off his tank, and dropped it next to the incline bench. After a moment of stretching, like the workout machine he was, John went straight through his normal warm up progression for chest. 135, 225, 315 pounds, each for 10 reps, back to back. His only rest was the time it took to put on a new plate. The difference between now and when Gabriel last saw him benching flat at the facility, John had added 405 for 10 to his warm up progression. As John stood up and added a fifth 45 to each side, he flashed back to 3 months previous. When Heath had pinned him under that light bar. If that John Declann had seen anyone move what he just breezed through, it would have left him almost shaking with inadequacy. And now, here it was -- doing it and it felt just slightly harder than carrying groceries into his house or picking up Gabriel. He knew he could do these in his sleep. John popped over to the water fountain before his first working set with 495, and pulled a deep draw of water. As he was bent over, he was surprised to hear the door behind him open. A very familiar voice sounded, one that once caused him dread. “Damn it, Brenda, Just get it fucking done….” which was followed by a short pause and then a cold tone, “Brenda, when I get home, you and I are gonna talk and I will straighten you out on where your priorities need to be. And you damned well better be waiting on me. Don’t make --” Heath broke off as he saw that the room was not empty like he first thought. Someone was at the water fountain. “We will finish this later.” John quickly swallowed the bile that had washed up into his mouth. Brenda was Heath’s wife, and hearing that shit, especially from an asswipe like Heath always incensed him. But now was not the time for confrontation. John let go of the fountain trigger and raised up to his full height, allowing his back to spread out like a raised topographical map of the mountains that surrounded their city. John heard a stifled “Fuck” from behind him. John was now accustomed to quiet curses of amazement at seeing him. But that tone, that was different. That wasn’t upset about being overheard. That was … what? John could have sworn there was a hint of sexuality in that tone. He put up his undercover cop shield before he turned around. No one here but Cook was supposed to know who he was, but John was ALWAYS by the book. He turned around to reveal his immense chest and ripped abs and a face so hyper-masculine, so refined, yet perfectly chiseled that a model would lust after them. And the man he saw - it took all of John’s well-honed discipline not to burst out laughing. Heath had not changed one bit. Still the well muscled guy he always was. Still the strutting prick he always was. Still the criminal he had always been. He was the same; it was John who was not. All John saw of the man who had once pinned him under a bar and threatened him was … small. Just … small. Tiny. A frail thing. Something that would break like a dropped glass if he were not careful. The smallest flash of calculation passed though his mind, considering whether he could put Heath over his head into the ceiling tiles with one hand. But, he didn’t finish the thought for what it might make him tempted to do. And he could not afford those thoughts --- not yet. Instead, John channeled his new identity. The intimidating, dominant jock Cop he now was. Someone so practiced and perfected that he may as well have had a split personality. “Oh, Hello. Just thought I’d take time for a quick lift while I was here, and they told me you guys are shirtless when chics aren’t in here. Hope they told me right...” John said, not giving so much as a hint that he knew who was standing in front of him. John noticed Heath breathing quickly, just staring. Eyes almost … dilating. No way, went through John’s mind. That’s crazy, but the signs were all there. John took a step forward as his resonant bass voice sounded again. “You OK, dude?” “Oh … oh yeah,“ Heath replied, starting to regain his composure after his brain short-circuited when confronted by the titan in front of him. “Just wasn’t expecting someone quite so … so tall in here.” “Oh. Well, I am taller than most that I have seen in the office. Don’t think about it much to tell the truth. Anyway, something I can help you with?” Heath was walking around toward the locker room, but his eyes never left John, not for a second. It was then, when he almost tripped over the bench John had left his clothes on, that Heath latched onto … “Oh, yeah. You haven’t seen a small guy around here? Kinda dark red hair like yours. He is thin though. Name is Declann. This is his stuff here.” John smiled inwardly, thanking fate that he had left those clothes there. Heath had no idea who he was. PERFECT, he thought. Let’s run with this and see what he gives me. John began to slowly walk toward the locker room bench and Heath. To see John move, it felt a bit like seeing an apex predator stalking prey. The guys at the gym called John “The Predator” when this side of him started to come out. A small, cocky smirk began to form on his lips. “You know when I came in, there was a small guy here. Kind of like you describe. Didn’t catch his name though. Didn’t speak much, either. I think he’d been ordered to clean out his old locker cause they assigned this locker number to me. When I showed up, he just took off and left his stuff. Don’t know where he is now.” By the time he had finished, John was within a couple of feet of Heath and right on top of his old things. With his cocky smirk on full, John reached down and picked up his old boots. “Nice boots, good condition. They are small though. Might fit my little brother,” John idly mused as he glanced down at Heath’s legs. “Or you.” John put the boots back where he found them and the Predator stepped back for a moment. “But, no I never caught his name. And speaking of - didn’t catch your name, man. Haven’t been here long enough to meet many people.” John said. “Uh. Sorry. My name’s Jeff Heath. I'm a senior deputy on the county SWAT team.” Heath’s voice wavered a bit, confronted by the shirtless muscle giant. John came up just a little too close to Heath and extended his hand. Heath was staring straight into John’s upper pecs and had to crane his neck up a bit to look John in the eyes. John was smiling as he looked down. His eyes bore into the smaller man. “I’m Brady. Kyle Brady. On loan from Air Force Civilian Police. Good to meet you Jeff.” Heath took John’s much bigger hand and tried to squeeze it in a proper firm handshake, but John squeezed back JUST hard enough to break Heath’s grip and press his knuckles together without really hurting him. And not for an instant did John’s eyes ever move from drilling a hole straight through Heath’s head. Heath had this small feeling in his bladder, like he should wet himself. The statement was made. An alpha male was in the room, and Heath wasn’t it. John lingered for just a moment and then dropped Heath like he had not even been there. John turned around and started walking back toward the bench. And if he had calculated correctly … “I’ve sure as hell noticed you.” Heath said, voice with just a slight tremor. Bingo, John thought. Heath continued, “You’re kind of hard to miss. You must have been lifting since before high school.” John never turned around as he replied. “Believe it or not, I ran track in high school.” John heard Heath walking toward him but the voice was still shaky, unsure. “What the fuck? Track? No offense, but I’ve never seen a track runner who wasn’t skinny as hell.” John turned around. “Yep, Track. But I was different back then for sure. You might say I was a late bloomer.” “Well damn, you’ve changed.” “You would be surprised just how much.” Heath tried to maintain his composure and reassert himself after that weird feeling when this Kyle shook his hand. “Yeah, I’ve seen that happen sometimes. Guys keep just growing after high school. Me - I got to 5’11” in tenth grade and only filled out after that. Not taller at all. But, maybe it was better that you did track in school. Hitting gear too early can stunt your growth, they say.” John’s eyes flashed cold for just an instant, locking onto and catching the little man again. “Seen that with kids sometimes.” John’s deep voice dropped slightly lower, making Heath flinch in spite of himself. “Fucking shame too…” Heath backpedaled a bit, “Yeah, I used to look down on skinny runts, but some of them sprouted, and if they got into the weight room, they ended up fucking huge --- Like you.” John pulled back slightly in response to Heath's compliment. John decided it was time to play, and time to see if he really was right about what the signs in Heath’s responses to him showed. The Predator started to come forward again. “Thanks man. I certainly do try. Can’t claim any credit for getting tall though. Just kind of happened. The muscle though --” John walked back to within a pace or two of Heath. “That I had to earn. Still came on pretty quick. Guess you could say I have a talent for it.” Smirking down, John bounced his mountainous pecs in Heath’s face. His grin grew a little more as he saw a few beads of sweat break out on Heath, and his eyes definitely bugged out being so close to a man who literally dwarfed him. “But,“ John said as he stopped the display and took a step back, “was gonna say that you do not look like you’re a stranger to the gym. Great build for sure” He paused and then added, almost as an afterthought “…. for a little guy.” “Thank you,” Health said, almost - flattered, John thought. “But, you… you’re just damned impressive. And I am not a man that is easily impressed.” Heath tried to hide what happened then, but John caught it. A quick glance at his cock and a breath. Too quick of a breath. It was then that all the pieces came together. John knew EXACTLY what was happening. The scrawny little fuck is hot for me, John thought. He wants ... John almost lost it, but then something else came to mind. The Predator came on in full force. He was going to either reel Heath in or put him in his place. Either way, this was going to be fun… John stepped back toward the water fountain. With his back toward Heath, John held a barely contained laugh under his voice. “Impressive, huh? Well I can appreciate that. But, you know. I always found what you can do with mass even more impressive.” John got a quick sip of water before turning around and “mindlessly” rippling his pecs as his devastating sexy smile cracked on his lips. He cocked his head in the direction of the incline he was on. “So, let me ask the gym noob question. What’s your bench, man?” Heath became almost sheepish under the mental onslaught of MAN John was dishing out on him. “Ahhh… 4 …. 425.” John said in reply as he came back toward the bench, “425. That’s respectable for just about anybody. How about what’s on the bar now?” Heath questioned. “10 plates….ah 495?” John cocked his head again, inviting Heath to come closer, as he sat down on the bench’s seat. “Bet I know what you’re thinking when you look at this much weight.” John’s voice lowered as the Predator came out even more. “You stand alone, ten plates in the hole. It’s you versus the weight.” John popped his neck back and forth, loosening up. His voice drops lower again, softer. Bringing Heath in closer. John locked eyes with Heath. “You're thinking, ‘I'm going to get fucking crushed.’ You're thinking, ‘I am not gonna get up.’ “You'll puke. You will feel like your gonna die, and it will be hell getting off the shitter the next few days.’ “But, I’m here to tell you, it will all be worth it. ‘Cause when there’s chalk on your hands and sweat running down you, there's no better place in the world.” John leaned back as he grasped the bar. He looked up one last time at Heath with eyes that seemed to drill straight into Heath’s brain. “Can you handle it?” John lifted the bar off of the rack, and then, slowly, methodically, without so much as a groan or stress at all started, lowered the bar to his chest and then started pressing. 1...2....3...4...5...6...7...8...9...10. John seemingly effortlessly racked the bar and then stood up. His pecs were already pumped, deep red with blood, fine veins starting to cross the muscles of his pecs and delts. Heath was breathing like he was watching a porn. “Oh my GOD. You made that look easy…” John looked at him, his voice switching subtly to the command tone he took in the gym. He flexed his pecs a few times as he walked almost into Heath’s face he was so close. But John never slowed, just walked to the weight rack and grabbed a pair of 25 pound plates in one hand. “Let’s see what I’ve got. Here. Toss a quarter on there.” John said, putting the weights he was carrying in into Heath’s hand. Heath’s grip broke immediately under the width of the plates. He was barely able to bring his other hand around to keep them from falling. Heath almost ran to put on another 50 lbs on the bar as John sat down to a 545 lb press. Heath stood back slightly, like he was going to spot the giant, but the question was humble, something akin to a little boy. “Do… do you need a liftoff?” This time, John couldn’t hold it back anymore. The chuckle that came from his mouth was nearly derisive. The look he gave was as if he were looking at a specimen in a petri dish. “What do you think?” John replied. He sat under the bar. The bar flexed, warped under the strain, as John brought it to his chest again and pressed smoothly. 1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8. John re-racked with a crash as the entire apparatus under him shook with the forceful impact of a quarter ton of steel. John sat up, veins popping over his forearms, chest and delts even thicker, bigger. John lowered the pretense now and simply commanded Heath. “Pull ‘um off. Put on another 45.” Heath walked almost zombie-like, removing the 25 plates. He walked to the squat rack to get more weights, the closest place with another pair of 45’s. When he turned around, he saw John, eyes locked on him, the Predator was fully out now. Heath didn’t even notice the small wet spot on his groin growing. Heath finished preparing the bar, 585 lbs on it making the bar bend before John ever touched it. Heath was nearly incredulous now, as he simply said, “But that’s …” The Predator replied with contempt, “That’s what...?” John slid back down, set himself, and grasped the bar. The bar distorted as it slowly rose again. The Predator let out a low primal growl now as the bar moved 1...2...3...4...5...6. The bar looked like it would almost snap as it racked, and John’s chest looked like it would burst through his skin it was so red and full. Heath was nearly drooling, mind more than blown, overloaded by what he was seeing. The Predator commanded, “Put the quarters back. That will be...635. That’s what --- 3 of you, little man?” Heath obeyed without thinking, and John’s cock began to fill slightly. Dominance poured out of him, so strong it was as if he were born to control all human life. When the collar locks were back in place, the Predator’s eyes gleamed into Heath. “Hop up on the step.” Heath moved to stand in place behind and above John where one would normally give a spot. John leaned back onto the back pad. Heath began to move his hands as if to help in a liftoff when the Predator stopped him with a word, a growl that made Heath’s balls feel like they should shrivel and pull back into his body. “LOOK. DON’T TOUCH.” John commanded. Heath’s hands backed away and dropped, and he turned his head down to watch the mountain below him. Heath’s eyes consumed the vision, John’s semi-hard cock peeking out of the bottom of his shorts, contrasting with the living rock under his command. The bar looked like it would snap as it bent …. And John lifted it off…. 1…… 2….. A roar erupted as the Predator forced the bar through the sticking point. 3… Heath’s eyes were wide as plates, his mouth agape at the raw power he was seeing. The bar slowly lowered again. John paused as it touched his chest. The Predator’s eyes locked onto the crumbling once-a-man that was Jeff Heath. John killed any momentum, any hint of mechanical advantage that might aid him in the lift. 1...2...3 seconds he waited. Then the Predator let out a near primal scream as he poured power into the bar, and it moved slowly, but relentlessly up. Quarter way, then to the sticking point, then to three-quarters, then his arms locked. John moved the bar back and racked, making everything, Heath included, shake. A light sheen of sweat covered John’s body now, just like what he told Heath when he started. John stood towering over Heath. Even with the smaller man elevated several inches on the spot platform, John was STILL more than a head taller. He stepped forward grasping the bar. He pressed his arms into an insane triceps flex and leaned over it. The smell of musk and sweat pouring over Heath, his eyes only seeing someone, something beyond a man in front of him. The Predator softly growled. “Well… Can. You. Handle. It?” Heath’s dick was clearly outlined in his BDU’s, the spot of pre so large it was starting to actually make a trail down his leg from his groin. Heath’s face and eyes were no longer those of a cocky prick. Instead what was looking back at John was shock, fear, submission, and pure lust. Heath seemed to tremble as a leaf in a very mild wind. The Predator took in the entirety of the tiny man but not giving away even a hint that he was doing so. He was right, and he knew it. The Predator knew the shitstain had tasted the bait. Now it was time to set the hook and reel him in. After what felt like hours, but was really perhaps three seconds, John stood, took a couple of steps back, and turned around. As he bent to pick up his stringer from the floor, he said, as if nothing at all had happened, “I don’t know.” He raised back to standing with the tank dangling from his fist at his side, “I don’t think that bar can handle much more weight without flexing too much. I don’t want to permanently warp it. Not much use to you then. But, you really need to get some stiffer power bars in here to handle proper weight. Clear that off for me, will you?” John’s tone sounded like he was asking a favor, but both men knew it was an order. Heath instantly hopped down and began to take the plates off the bar, much to the bar’s relief as it raised back up into place. Heath removed a plate on one side and then the other, replacing them on the plate tree. Even through unloading the bar, Heath kept glancing up at John, his breath haggard as he watched the giant get a big gulp of water from the fountain, wipe his brow with his stringer, and walk into the locker room. Heath mumbled as he was finishing clearing plates, “You’re the only one who would need it…” John replied again, as if nothing had happened, “What was that?” John was now in front of the mirror at the sinks, flexing his pecs and pulling a side chest pose. Heath, finishing his task, said, “Nothing. Just that you’re the only one who would need it.” Heath moved into the locker room but stopped dead as he saw John posing. “Oh really? I supposed that’s true. Sometimes I forget that most guys are weaker than me. Gonna do the armed forces show in the Springs in a few weeks. What do you think?” John said as he pulled back and SLOWLY, flexed his titanic arms, bringing them forward and squeezing his pecs in an open hug, dropping into a most muscular. Heath’s eyes nearly exploded out of his skull. He briefly wondered what it would be like to be inside that crushing pinser, if he would even survive it. “Ahhhhhh ……. Ahhhh….. I don’t think they stand a chance.” John smiled, “Think so? Kind of you. And you haven’t even seen my best pose. Been told my double bi’s my money shot.” John set his feet, put his arms above his head, and then pulled them down into the biggest double biceps Heath thought had ever been seen on earth. Heath’s eyes could not stop moving - first it was biceps the size of Heath’s head, then it was lats that looked like he could outspan a 747, to two veins that looked as thick as his index finger running across the peak with branches upon branches smaller and smaller veins crossing everywhere, to the reflection of absolutely perfect abs and obliques clearly visible in the mirror, to the delts staring him in the face from his rear vantage that seemed to have bowling balls stuffed inside. “Holy shit….” Heath let out, barely above a whisper. John’s smile began to gain the faintest hint of the Predator’s gleam. “Come on, take a closer look. Really like your opinion. And put yours up while you’re at it. I’m showing mine….” Heath couldn’t refuse, but a knot formed in the pit of his stomach behind his abs. He knew what was coming, but … he couldn’t or didn’t want to stop it. He walked almost robotically toward John. When he was within a foot of the cop muscle god, Heath stopped. John relaxed for just a moment and took a step back, putting Heath just in front of him. John set again and pulled the pose even HARDER. Heath didn’t think it could be any bigger, but everything about the Predator behind him was larger now. Heath had no choice but adopt the same pose. It was striking. Heath’s own, large for most men, 19 inch biceps were totally dwarfed. John’s FOREARMS were larger than the fattest part of Heath’s peaks. In the mirror, the top of John’s split peak was perfectly visible, rising higher than the back of Heath’s head. It looked like a pro bodybuilder in his prime posing with a noobie young teen looking for inspiration. John noticed and this time, he could not hold the laughter back. John could see it in Heath’s eyes looking back in the mirror. The little man was not only defeated, but totally crushed. The tiniest sound of a whimper escaped Heath’s mouth. It could not be clearer who was the MAN … and who was the boy. John had made the exact impression he had wanted, but the laugher sounded totally good natured … almost. John dropped the pose, allowing his right arm to just brush down Heath’s back. Heath gasped almost in fear. “Oh Shit. Sorry, man. Like I said, sometimes I just forget how short people are. So, what do you think?” “I don’t think anyone has a prayer against you, Kyle. I mean it. Not a hope in hell.” Heath said, still looking at the reflection of the arm that had sent shivers through him. Heath didn’t even realize it when his thoughts accidentally poured out of his mouth. “Kyle, you have to tell me. What supps do you take to look like… like...like THIS?” John looked at Heath via the mirror. “Well you know, usual stuff. What about you?” “Mostly natural stuff, but sometimes. Sometimes I need a little help, you know?” John took a step up to the counter in front of the mirror and picked up his tank. “Yeah…. Happens to us all sometimes. Needing that little extra kick.” John started to pull the stringer over top of his head. Heath took the moment to stare dead into the reflection of John’s bulge in the mirror. He thought he had been fast enough to avoid detection as that mass of XXXXL cloth that made up the tank obscured John’s view…. He hadn’t been. John knew it almost the moment it happened. Gotcha, John thought. Hook set. Reel him in. Heath replied, finally turning around. “Forgive me, but you sure don’t look like you need any help.” “Well, some things you need help with. Others … not so much.” John smirked. “Some things are just genetic gifts. You know that.” “I wish I had your gifts.” Heath said, so close to total defeat that the last few inches wouldn’t have mattered. John turned around and walked to grab a folded towel from the rack near the lockers. “Looks like you have some gifts yourself. That little ass of yours looks like it has had a lot of heavy squats put into it.” Heath blushed immediately. The way Kyle said it, he couldn’t be sure if Kyle just hit on him, or if he were making an actual comment about his glutes. But he had to be sure. He HAD to. “Uh, so Kyle. After you finish up and take a shower, you wanna grab some food? You’re new here, so it’s on me.” John seems to totally ignore the man talking to him as he turned on the water inside a shower stall. But after a pregnant moment, he replied, “Thanks for the offer man, but I have to go and talk to the boss. But…. I'll tell you what.” John tossed his towel down onto a bench closest to his shower and walked back to where his locker contents were folded on the edge of the bench closest to the gym door. One of his own old notepads was just barely visible, poking out of his old uniform shirt. He looked back at Heath, while cocking his head toward the small pile. “Think he would mind?” “He wouldn’t say fuck if you burned it all.” Heath replied. John cracked a half smile as he removed the pad and then pretended to rummage for a pen. Pulling out the pen exactly where he knew it was, John wrote the number of his Air Force burner phone on a piece of paper. He ripped it out, and then just dropped the pad and pen back onto the bench as if the man who owned them was beneath his contempt - exactly the way Heath would have dropped them before today. John held the piece of paper JUST out of Heath’s reach, while still looking like he was offering it. “If you’re willing, I might just take you up on that a little later. Shoot me a text and when I find out what the boss wants and when, we can set up a time.” Heath almost fell over himself to grab the paper out of John’s hand. “No problem, Kyle. Looking forward to it.” Heath said. “So am I. Catch you later, Jeff,” John replied. John turned around and started for the shower. He lingered just long enough for Heath to leave - or at least appear to. John slipped off his shoes and socks, his tank and shorts and walked with the confidence of any gym jock cop into the shower. But John knew Heath was still there. He hadn’t heard the metal fire door to the hallway outside open or close. John cracked a smile and turned just enough to show what he wanted as he soaped himself. Trying to stay hidden, Heath was able to catch John’s reflection in the mirror. Heath nearly swallowed his tongue as he finally got to see the cock and balls John was packing … and they were every bit as enormous as Heath expected. He stared entranced for a good thirty seconds before John turned to wash his face. Heath wondered just how long he would need to wait to text so he didn’t look too desperate to feel that cock inside him, as he opened the door and went into the hall. John heard the door close and snickered. Snickered at how truly EASY that was. The tiny man really was pathetic. Finishing his shower just a bit sooner than he normally would have, John slipped his gym clothes back on and laced his shoes. That little display was just an appetizer for what his real workout would be later. But now, the wheels were turning. He knew that Heath was hooking up with men on the side, probably using the steroids as some way to meet men. Whether his wife knew or not had to be determined but … how he spoke to her on the phone. That tone. The tone of a coward. The tone of an abuser. IF that were true. John unconsciously pumped his fist, making his forearm writhe. IF that were true, he knew what he wanted to do. He just … damn it. Gabriel. No, John thought, before I cross that bridge I have to know first. And, Gabriel also needed to know that everything looked a little smaller. Jack was supposed to be at his place with Gabriel still. He would call and have them both wait until he got home from the Springs. They would both want to know. After Jack had gone, he could talk to his angel about the scrawny prick and what he wanted to do. Though he was sure Gabriel would not like it. *** John burst through the door of his apartment. “Angel, Jack? Where are you two?” Gabriel’s accented half shout came in reply. “In the kitchen, John.” John dropped his gym bag beside the door in its usual spot, made his way through the dining room, and around an L corner to the kitchen. John couldn’t help but laugh at the sight -- Gabriel making tea. “Do you EVER not drink tea, Gabriel?” Gabriel looked up and scoffed. “I’m English. I can’t move without tea. It's just not done, and it's too bad American’s have lost this little bit of civilization.” John walked up, bent down and kissed Gabriel on the cheek. John then turned around to see Jack, his back turned to John and Gabriel, rummaging the cabinets for a snack. “John, do you have anything here that isn’t macro friendly? I need something nasty and sweet and --”. Jack turned around and then stopped in mid word. “John, are you taller? Already? And you’ve gotten more muscle mass too.” John became less jovial for a moment as he touched Gabriel’s shoulder, a message to turn around. “I was actually wanting to talk to you two, since you’re both here. At work today, people, rooms, all felt a little smaller. I mean smaller than when I was there a week ago. And Jack… you look smaller too.” Jack turned and had to take a couple of steps to actually see both men at once. “Gabriel?” Gabriel looked quizzical. “I hadn’t noticed. But then again, I do see John everyday. Daily changes are not going to register to either of us as much.” “Grab your tape measure John. We need to measure now.” Jack said. John went to his gym bag and removed a 10-foot cloth tailor’s measuring tape. “Gabriel, bring the step stool. I think you both will need it.” John said, both matter-of-factly, but also with a hint of gym jock pride. After his run-in with Heath earlier, he had been rather cocky all day long, and it just happened to fit in with Warren wanting him to “one up” his colleague. “Wipe that smirk off your face, you gorilla.” Gabriel said, already bringing the small step that John had once used to change lightbulbs. John hadn’t needed anything like that in a while now. John lightly tossed the measuring tape to Jack, who caught the lob easily. Gabriel handed him the folding step, and John lined himself up on a flat, floor to ceiling wall. “Slip those shoes off,” Jack reminded John, who complied. Once set, Jack climbed to the top step, and found himself just barely at the top of John’s head. He let the tape measure end go until it hit the ground and examined the measurement closely. Jack took a deep breath and let out a low whistle. He stepped down and looked at John. “How long did it take you to grow your first two inches?” “Assuming I began inside the facility, two months.” John said, “Why?” “John, you are 202 centimeters tall.” Gabriel instantly said, almost incredulously, “WHAT!?! Jack --” “I can take a measurement Gabriel.” Jack snapped, showing his concern. “John, you are now just shy of 6’8” tall. You’ve gained over 2 inches in 10 days. Not 2 months, 10 days.” “John, we need to do everything. Where is your pad that you used to keep measurements in for me?” Gabriel asked. “In the bedroom in my nightstand, “John replied. Jack was already moving around, struggling to maneuver around John’s muscle mass to get accurate measurements. Meanwhile, Gabriel brought in John’s bathroom scale. The measurements were not as accurate as the lab body scanner, and John was dangerously close to maxing his bathroom scale. But what was happening was obvious once they saw it all in black and white. Height: 6’7.5” Weight: 343.9 lbs Neck: 24.25 inches Chest: 64.125 inches Waist: 34.125 inches Forearms: 21.75 inches Upper Arms: 25.125 inches Thighs: 35.5 inches Calves: 24.75 inches Gabriel collapsed onto a soft oversized chair, and put his hand to his mouth. John knew this mannerism, Gabriel was afraid. “Oh my God. I am such a fucking idiot,” Gabriel mumbled. “The more you challenge your body the more it grows. I just didn’t think. But it's obvious. John, it’s not linear growth, it's exponential.’ Gabriel stopped, his lip almost trembling “We do not have a lot of time. John…. John, its accelerating.”
  6. Thanks to Dredlifter for the idea suggestion of this little thing - or maybe it will wind up being a big thing. I haven’t written a story like this in a long time - at least 4 years. I hope you will bear with me for a slow burn introduction here and getting my “verbal” chops back into shape. But the fun stuff will start coming next chapter. I am open to any and all feedback as I want to re-hone my writing abilities. Critiques are welcome -------- To Protect and Serve - Chapter 1 - The First Morning Prelude: Just imagine - You’re standing at attention with your peers in your best Class-A Uniform. All around you in the auditorium your friends, family, and fellow officers who can come are here to see the solemn occasion. A freshly earned, freshly shined badge has just been pinned on your chest by the Sheriff. You raise your right hand and take the oath. The oath is a bit different from jurisdiction to jurisdiction, but we boil its meaning down to one phrase - “To Protect and Serve.” So many have taken the oath. Some who took it did little things that made a big difference, while some risked their lives and paid the ultimate price. And some … well … some are special. This is the story of one of those special ones - no, he is even more than that. Though it was not his intention nor mine, he went beyond special. How do I know? He saved me. He has given me a life I could never have dreamed possible that first early morning. And what happened to him? Well, a transformation that is better in the telling. To those who take the oath as seriously as he did; To those who give it a new and bigger meaning as he did; to those who change more than they can imagine by repeating those words as he did, this story is dedicated. This is the story of what could happen if you could protect and serve many thousands of people, and just one man, me, in ways beyond your wildest imagination. ~ Gabriel York ----- A deceptively small man hung his duty shirt onto a dry cleaners hanger and placed it in his locker. As he stood bare chested in the cool air, he appeared to be hiding his body, but he had nothing to be ashamed of - having a lithe but very tight build under that shirt. Nicely shaped, mounded pecs accompanied hard small orange sized biceps. A tight 6-pack graced his lower abdomen to an impossibly small looking waist. He was way better than most men of his age, no “dad bod” here to be sure. But, the man always felt self-conscious in the locker room despite the room being empty. He wasn’t one of THEM, something that had haunted him since high school. He lifted one booted foot and then the other onto a wooden bench before him. Loosening the laces and pulling the side zipper, he removed each boot. He held them in his hands like precious artifacts for just a moment, remembering the first time he put these on. Soon it would be his last, he mused. His time could go on as long as he wanted. But -- he questioned why. What had he done to stay on? What good had he really done? REALLY made a difference? It took but a few more minutes for him to put on his civilian duty clothes (a departmental polo, slacks,and loafers), secure his badge to his belt, and close his locker. Most locker rooms were replete with all sorts of combination locks, but not here. A few men and most of the women officers used them, but it wasn’t exactly necessary. You couldn’t be in a much safer place after all. Deputy Sergeant John Declann closed his locker for the millionth time and went to collect his personal sidearm from the gun locker clerk. He had no sooner than entered the hallway from the locker room, he heard a truly tremendous booming upper bass voice: “WHOA, ONE SIDE DECLANN.” Declann immediately pulled back into the doorway and looked up … and up, to see 5 men in a tight formation with shields and cell-entry equipment. Each one of them was every bit of 6 foot 4 inches plus - although tactical boots always made you look taller than you were. They were more like 6 foot 2 without them - but still, they all out-weighed John by at least 60 pounds of muscle. At his 5 foot 7 inches in height and in normal shoes, he felt positively TINY seeing them pass by. That was sort of the point of those uniforms - to try and intimidate anyone who saw what was coming - and it always did, at least it did Declann. They were in helmets and wore thick padded vests, under which were black t-shirt with black BDUs and those boots below. While those clothes were technically “loose,” they did little to hide every oversized muscle in their massive bodies. Gigantic arms stretched forth from sleeves that seemed to be straining to the breaking point. 2 pairs of arms were thick, powerlifter looking, and 3 more were supremely cut muscle. The CERT - Cell Extraction and Response Team - blew past him looking like they were heading to Mary-pod - the maximum security section. No doubt it was to remove an offender from a cell for morning counts who did not want to be removed. There was no question, he WOULD be removed, no matter what it took. The injury inflicted was entirely the offender’s choice. And, that amount of muscle and its overwhelming power could do plenty of that. Declann had tried out for both the CERT and SWAT teams years ago. But at his 165 lb, it was deemed he just did not have the physical size necessary. “You have all the skills needed and more Deputy Declann,” he had been told. “You should be proud of that. But some other officers just beat you out in the scores. And we need you on the streets. That is where you belong.” Funny, he thought in a moment of jealousy. It was always those guys who were of larger than life proportions that got the spots, even if their skills were not as good as his. After the group had passed, Declann walked down the hall toward the sallyport and stopped. He always did it at times like this, halting at the Officer’s Gym. He looked inside. It was rather quiet, normal at 0545 and shift change. Still, he could see some of the remnants of workouts by the big guys on the force. 45 pound plates left on the sides of incline bench press rack. What looked like 5 plates on a side on the bar on the squat rack. Dozens on the leg press sled. It was a bit of a mess, in truth, but most well used gyms were. Now, Declann was no physical slouch. He always kept in shape and his skills honed as the primary martial arts instructor for the Sheriff’s Office. He could have done well in that room, even though he was pushing 40 years old. Could have grown. But, he sighed and went on. There was just a part of him that never wanted to face big men in the gym. The injustice of being mocked for his smaller size and unfamiliarity with the equipment the one time he went in blazed in him still all these years later. He guessed the big men thought it was good natured fun, but it hurt Declann deeply. So, he kept to his body weight fitness room and small dojo set up in the garage at home. That made him feel less conspicuous. When it came to them, John always saw himself as a small man in boots that were a size too big. And yet - to so many others, he wasn’t that at all. He was everything that made police work an honorable profession. --- John Declann had wanted to be a police officer for as long as he could remember. Since his youngest days, he had been fascinated by police dramas on TV, how they always seemed to catch the bad guy no matter the odds. How they always saved people in distress. In his mind, there was no better calling. No better way to spend his life. He had the mind to be anything he wanted. He excelled in most subjects in school and was a top flight musician. But, those pursuits were not where he heart lay. He was a cop at heart by his teenage years, and he did everything he could to prepare himself. He took JROTC through high school, where he picked up his interest in martial arts and started Aikido lessons. Though he wasn’t the best team sports, he blasted through the competition at his dojo. He became quite fit from the military style calisthenics workouts he adopted during ROTC summer camps. And, that fitness matched perfectly with his blooming skills with his hands and feet on the mats. Before high school was over, his featured had matured into those of a very fit, handsome young man with striking brown eyes. And he had his first degree black belt, the first degree of many. It took a nearly a year after graduating high school to get his first small town commission to the force. He spent his first 18 months in the jails, and then took and passed his Colorado POST exams. He had been a road officer ever since. Now, he was a Sergeant in the Boulder County Sheriff’s Office - an area not unknown for large scale crimes as it held the University of Colorado. “The Berkeley of the East” though had its full measure of minor offenses. But the area wasn’t exactly the worst gang spots in Denver either. He had for served with true distinction for nearly two decades since - being decorated for bravery multiple times for saving civilians lives under fire. He had saved those intent on suicide. He had even delivered a baby once in a convenience store, and the story made the local news. He had had plenty of hands-on run ins with offenders, but he gave way more than he got, never having much more than a bruise or a black eye on occasion. He just never saw what the community and his immediate superiors did - a good man, serving the people Boulder and the kids of the University the best way he knew how. --- John went out to his car - an unmarked Dodge - cranked it, and began the slow crawl toward the Turnpike then Wheat Ridge. One of the things he learned in his own initial officer training long ago was to never live in the county you worked in. It could always lead to problems with local offenders. So, it was up and over the Flatirons toward home. Even though traffic volume was already increasing as it spread toward Denver in the morning rush, his mind wandered as if on empty roads. He made the necessary turns though the city and came proximate to the University entrances, but was running his schedule through his mind. He was due for a weigh in at the doc’s today. And they usually took his measurements too. Height, waistline, all that stu -- John’s senses caught something in the barely lit dawn. Someone moving way too fast to be normally jogging to the right of his car. Moving toward campus. John slowed his vehicle and his brain went into observation mode. It captured the scene in moments with his practiced eyes and mind. A young man -- looking to be just outside of college age but could still belong to the University. Short, black hair. Trimmed beard. White button down shirt and navy slacks. Looked like there was some money invested in those clothes, certainly not cheap. Behind him, perhaps eight or so paces, was running - and running faster than the first - a white young man, shaved head, jeans and ratty t-shirt, tatted with jailhouse tattoos that stood out even under the fading street lamps. And, then John caught sight of a gun in the rear waistband of the second’s jeans. Semi-auto by the outline. Instinct took over. John turned his car in an instant, hit the flasher toggle for his lights, and wound with wildly fast, yet practiced precision toward the danger. Less than 20 seconds later, John pulled his car to a stop where his instincts said he could cut this off. “Boulder County Sheriff's Office -- ON THE GROUND NOW” John yelled as he leapt from his car and drew his weapon virtually simultaneously. The running suspect didn’t listen, just as John had expected. He instead broke his pursuit of the well-dressed man and taken off toward a side alleyway. But, John was good at his work. The offender was fast, but John - was FASTER. He holstered his weapon as he calculated his movements nearly autonomously. He had chosen his intercept point well. John calculated the takedown, knowing an almost undisputable, universal law - 95 percent of offenders have no idea of how to fight, and the remaining 5% seldom need to fight. And this one looked like the former. It took a few seconds, but just a few, for the whole pursuit to be over. Exactly two PPCT strikes and a normal compliance take down and the suspect wa on his back, with John twisting his arms and putting the handcuffs on. He never even had to hurt more than the punk’s pride. Once secured, John kept his knee in place just under the lower shoulder blades, cuffed arms resting on his quad, knowing a bodyweight advantage and leverage would be critical with this man who slightly outweighed him. “What’s your name?” John demanded as he patted down the suspect and quickly removed a 9mm weapon and several baggies of what looked like methamphetamine. “Fuck you” was the response. John smiled a bit and gave a half chuckle under his breath. He loved this a bit too much when it happened, and some mischievous streak in him just drove him to do it. “OK, Mister Fuk Yu. I am placing you under arrest for possession of an illegal firearm and possession of controlled substances. You have the right to remain silent …” John mirandized the “Mr. Fuck,” pulled him up to his feet, and maneuvered him the few yards to his car. He put the offender in the back seat and locked the door of his unmarked. The guy was going nowhere. Now, to more important matters. John made his way toward the young man being pursued - who had by now stopped and was almost collapsed on the sidewalk. Declann withdrew his cell, called 911, and requested uniformed officers to his location. He was upon the man on the sidewalk just as he hung up. John immediately knelt down to do a quick assessment of his condition. There were no obvious signs of trauma at the first once over. He then took a more careful look at the victim’s features. While he certainly wasn’t of student age, he was still under 30, John guessed. And, he was a very nice looking under 30 to boot. Blue eyes setting off dark, intense features. Old enough to just have the barest hint of a wrinkle at the eye but nothing else. John noted a rather slim body - the size of his own would have been were it not for his training in Aikido and Krav Maga. John felt a twinge of attraction.Yes, John was bisexual, but no one cared among his superiors anymore. Besides, he had always kept that part of himself separate when on duty. “You OK Sir? I can’t see any obvious injuries. Do you need an ambulance?”John asked as he came and sat down at the man’s level. “Thank you . . . . officer, thank . . . you.” The man panted in reply with a pronounced British accent. “I was . . . just going toward my . . . lab . . . after my tea . . . when this fellow . . . started chasing me screaming at . . me. ” The young man was now gathering his breath, becoming easier to understand. John was a bit surprised to hear that English accent coming from him. Not unheard of, but still unusual in Boulder. “Did he assault you in any way?” The Englishman finally looked up to see John’s slightly older but obviously concerned and kind face. He visibly relaxed as he looked into John’s light brown eyes. “No, he never caught me but he was close. I am not exactly in running shorts and shoes here. But thanks to you, I’ll be OK. I do not know what would have happened if you had not arrived when you did.” “With what I found, I suspect he wanted to mug you. You are rather well dressed for campus, if I may observe. And, forgive me, if he heard you accent, you may have looked like an quick target as a tourist. When the uniform officers get here, you will need to give a statement to them, or you can give it to me if you prefer. We need to make sure this scumbag gets what he deserves.” “Of course. Anything I can do to assist, although I would be much happier speaking to you.” the man said giving just a hint of a smile. It was then that the uniformed officers in their black and white vehicles showed up. John excused himself for a moment, let the uniforms know what was going on, and allowed them to take the offender back to the jail for booking. John then returned to the man still sitting on the sidewalk. Pulling out a notebook he kept on him for times like this, John got all the pertinent information as he had done thousands of times before. Name, description of what happened, when, and why, if he knew. Any details the young man, who he had come to know as Gabriel York, may have remembered before, during, and after. As he took the statement, John became even more convinced this was an attempted mugging, perhaps for more drug money, maybe even more if that weapon came into play. Knowing he had all he needed, John said, “Finally, is there a way we can contact you if we have further questions. The staff from the District Attorney's office will be sure to want to speak with you about testimony if it comes to that. Although with the evidence we have, this one will probably plea. This is not his first time in jail.” Gabriel reached into his pocket for a very expensive-looking leather wallet and removed a business card. “This is my lab contact information. I am easiest to reach either here on campus or with my secretary. My other lab is ...a… well ... it is easier to reach me here. Again I can’t thank you enough, Sergeant.” “Believe me, Dr. York, it was my pleasure. I am just glad you are safe and sound.” John said. “Are you OK to go on your own or would you like me to escort you to your lab? I would be happy to do so.” “Thank you sir, but I think I’ll be fine. My lab is just over the hill in the Biological Sciences building.” Gabriel replied. “OK” John said, handing Gabriel a card of his own with his name, rank, and contact information on it. “This is my card. If you need anything or remember anything else, please do not hesitate to call me anytime, day or night.” ‘Of course. Sergeant Declann.” The Englishman arose with a friendly hand from John. Almost as an afterthought as he was leaving, York turned around. “Oh, Sergeant Declann, by the way. I do ….ah… certain work down at the Federal Center in Denver. I will have to report this incident to my superiors there and to the British consulate. In case there is testimony or something as you said. They may wish to speak with you. Just to make sure. You understand?” John nodded. Ah, he works with the feds as an international scholar of some kind, and the red tape must be dealt with. “Of course. No problem at all. I’m proximate to the Federal Center half the time anyway.” York nodded an ascent and turned again to walk away. John stood a moment watching - and admiring - Dr. York move until he was sure he was alright AND that he was moving toward the Biology building. He turned around and began to make his way back to his car. As he did, he looked down at the card: Gabriel York, MD. PhD., FACS Research Director/Professor of Medicine Advanced Bio-neurological Applications Project University of Colorado School of Medicine Hmmm, John thought. He looked a damned sight young to be in such a prestigious job, a full professor under 30 and with two doctorates at least. And a fellow of the ACS -- so why talk to the Consulate? John’s “detective sensor” started to sound off in his mind. This advanced applications thing wasn’t a program he was familiar with, but there were so many new research projects on campus these days. But, as soon as the “alert” came, he let it go. Probably a government grant given what he said about the Federal Center. John was reviewing the incident in his mind for his own after action report as he pulled onto the highway. Suddenly, there was a loud roar of a horn and air brakes. John never even saw the tractor trailer that plowed into his car, crumpling it in an instant like so much tissue paper and driving it 30 yards down the highway. *** Two Hours Later *** Trauma room one at the University of Colorado Hospital was abuzz with activity. At least a dozen doctors, nurses, and specialist technologists in yellow plastic smocks and shields hovered over a trauma bed doing a myriad of tasks to the man laying there. “What do we have?” the lead trauma surgeon said as he came into the room and took up control of the life-saving operation. On of the smocked figures raised up and stepped back, raising his shield. “John Declann, caucasian male, age 39. Boulder County Sheriff’s Deputy. MVA - car versus tractor/trailer. Passenger was in a seatbelt with airbags deployed but required extraction by fire-rescue. Initial assessment shows superficial cranial abrasions, with most likely a simple concussion. No evidence of other cranial, brain, or upper spinal injuries. Seat belt bruising pattern is highly indicative of internal organ disruption, but nothing so far on physical examination and plain films of the abdomen. Lacerated and collapsed left lung, reinflated with chest tube. Pneumothorax proximate to same lung injury also responding. Initial x-rays show compromised T-12 vertebral body and possible pelvic fracture. No apparent lower limb trauma beyond cuts and bruises from extrication from the vehicle. CT scans are coming up now for the spinal and pelvic injury areas. This was a driver’s side T-bone crash. I think that this guy’s level of fitness is why we’re talking about saving his life and not pronouncing him. ” the lead resident efficiently rattled off. The lead surgeon took a look at the patient, and agreed with the resident’s assessment. John was alive because of his trained, flexible, body and more than a little random chance. But what kind of life was it going to be? The doctor walked over to the computer terminal screens and pulled up the CT scans. The pelvis showed a simple left side Ilium fracture. Non-displaced. Something the orthopods could deal with easy enough. He then flipped to the scan of John’s spine -- and frowned. “Fuck,” he said under his breath as he looked. He sat down on a stool and zoomed, in, out, rotated, and closely examined the different views provided by the technology. The burst fracture was unmistakable and at precisely the worst spot for leg function. As he walked back to John, the doctor barked orders to the residents and nurses, while he removed an ink pen from his pocket. He ran the pen up first one foot and then the other. Goddamnit, he thought. The veteran doc’s heart sunk even more. “Get neurosurg here stat. Tell them severe impact, burst fracture at T-12, CT visualization and reflex response indicative of cord injury.” The room went silent for a moment before carrying on. It was always hard to treat an officer. Much less for this. The supervising physician turned and again just looked at the radiology. The soft tissue injuries were no walk in the park, but were easily fixable, recoverable in just a few weeks, the pelvis in a couple of months, except …. that. There was no hope for that, in his experience. This man would be paralyzed. Five minutes later the head of neurosurgery looked at the same CT scans, and came to the same conclusion. No hope. They could do an exploratory, check and see if by some miracle there was just pressure on the cord from a fragment, but not likely. Better to just do a vertebral stabilization with the orthopods, but his chances to recover function … Declann had been stabilized and was ready for transfer to have his lung laceration repaired. As he was about to be moved, another man in a white coat burst into the trauma room. One look from him toward John, and his eyes moistened. “I...I...can’t believe it.” the black haired man wept at the side of the bed. “I had to be sure.” The man almost looked skyward, “Why him?” Gabriel tenderly wiped a finger down John’s cheek. “Gabriel?” the head of neuro looked up. “What are you doing here? Do you know this man?” “This man, he saved my life this morning, not even four hours ago. Kept me from getting mugged by this man with a gun. Everyone heard the crash and when I saw that the wreckage was his car. Is he going to be OK?” Gabriel was out of breath and had obviously lost clinical detachment between the events of this morning and the shock of seeing the officer who had been so kind and patient with him lying there. He would have been removed if treatment were still going on, but it was basically complete save moving him to OR. The two attendings just nodded toward the computer screens with the radiology still on it. Gabriel walked from John’s head side, looked, and was overcome with remorse and guilt. Had he just been at his normal time, 15 minutes later, none of this would have happened. But, he just HAD to check on a minor experiment. And now, this man lay here because of him. Gabriel zoomed in to the machine’s maximum sensitivity. He looked again and again. Through a choking voice, Gabriel looked around and almost whispered. “Jack, can you send me these scans please? To my secondary lab.” The lead neurosurgeon looked horrified, searching for a reason not to. “Gabriel. You can’t be serious. You know I can’t do that. It violates protocol, federal law--” Gabriel cut him off, almost angrily “Jack you know I can take care of that with one call to Washington.” “What are you going to do?” Jack asked, never having seen such anger in the young, brilliant surgeon and scientist. “IF I can, if there is anything I can do, I am going to try and help this man.’ “You can’t have a man as a lab r--. I can’t sanc---” Jack stumbled. Gabriel stood to his full height, taking on an almost military bearing. “You know I can and will go over your head if I have to. I will have him removed if I must.” Gabriel took a breath and seemed to calm a bit. “Jack I am not promising that I can or will do anything, I do not know if there is anything to do. But I have to try. I owe it to him. He is here because of me. I have to try or I’ll never forgive myself.” Jack knew Gabriel could follow through on his threats in an instant. He had seen some small manifestations of Gabriel’s connections to political power before, and he knew that interference in hospital functions was the very least of what he could do. As much as Jack detested it, with this kind of anger Gabriel could bring down the mountain on top of his whole hospital. But, as it was, there was nothing anyone could do for Officer Declann, not even York. Jack just silently waved his fingers in a gesture of defeat, nodded an ascent, and transferred access to Gabriel as primary attending physician. “Thank you Jack. I owe you about 10 times over for this.” “I WILL HOLD YOU TO THAT,” the older surgeon replied, his voice suddenly sharpened. “And I insist on one thing. Before you present him any of those things you do that I do not have a clue about, you will at least get his consent.” Gabriel looked like he had been shot himself and his voice shook, “I would NEVER do anything to harm him.” York turned on a heel and left the room, walking out of the ER doors, and toward his car in the parking lot. As soon as he was in the vehicle with the door closed, he pulled from his pocket an encrypted cell phone with just one number it could access, locked to his fingerprint. A male voice answered in military precision, “Yes, Doctor York?” “Codeword Ariana. I want the full computer network prepped for simulator study based on some CT scans that will be coming from CU Trauma ER shortly. Run the program with emergent parameters and stand by to report when I get there. Not a proof of concept level scan, Don, but full cellular level calculations. I am leaving the hospital now. We have 24 hours at the most to complete simulations. And...ah.. Don. This is important to me, personally.” “Yes SIR,” the sharp voice on the other end said. Gabriel could not quite understand what he was feeling, this pull toward this man. He didn’t know the man existed six hours ago. Sure, there was guilt and anger and sadness. But, he just could not remove from his mind those eyes he saw this morning. Those haunted, caring brown eyes. Something about him. This John Declann. He did not know what. But he saw it in his eyes. He deserved more than this, and Gabriel would find out why. He would make it happen, he willed it to happen as he drove toward the freeway. This good man would walk again.
  7. londonboy

    m/m Might I Suggest

    I had merely suggested that they might like to see my house – knowing full well it would impress them. I had been chatting with the two big guys at the gym and invited them home for lunch. I could immediately sense that the invitation made them both very uncomfortable, so I had simply focused on the larger of the two guys and thought about how he might really like to see my place. I thought about how the home gym and plush movie room would of specific interest. He had immediately accepted the offer on behalf of the two of them – much to the consternation of his friend. We were now standing in the large living space that opened out to the pool at my home – the beach, in sight, beyond. I loved the fact that the two guys were so confident that they acted like they were whispering, but spoke loud enough for me to hear – it’s just something cocky guys like to do. It’s as if they are marking their territory or something. It was meant to intimidate me if I had any ulterior motives. “I’m not feeling comfortable with this, man. Don’t you remember how this guy was staring at us while we were working out? It’s like he was imagining us naked. I say we split.” “Are you kidding dude? Look at this place. This guy is fucking rich. I say we milk this for everything we can. Besides, he’s so tiny either one of us could squash him like a grape with little effort. We got nothing to be scared of. Let’s just sit back and enjoy the ride. It’s nice to be pampered.” “Might I suggest we sit over here to have our drinks,” I said, calmly, pointing to a sofa and chairs near the pool. I had placed their two beers on a table in front of the large couch – making it pretty clear that they might want to sit near each other. I took my place in a chair directly across from them. The larger guy, Hank was his name, moved over to the sofa. When he sat down he picked up the glass I had placed beside his bottle of beer and stared at it with a confused face as he took a big swallow. “What’s this for? You gonna serve water, too?” “Might I suggest you pour your beer in it?” “What for?” asked Hank, the larger of the two large men, as he took another quick sip. “Cause it’s civilized, dude! Just do it,” answered Toby as he sat next to his workout partner and poured his beer obediently into the glass. He sat exactly where I hoped he would. Hank gave him a ‘what the fuck’ look and then followed suit. “Might I suggest you two make yourselves more comfortable.” “I don’t know, mister. I’m pretty fucking comfortable. I worked my ass off in the gym and have a mega-pump, I’m sipping nice beer from a glass, and I’m sitting in what I’m sure is a ten-million-dollar home. Can it get much more comfortable?” “Might I suggest you take off your shirt, Hank?” “Hell yeah! I mean, if you don’t mind, sir. Come on Tob, let’s go shirtless.” “Dude, this is all a little weird. Besides, I don’t want to see your man-boobs.” “I know, bro, but I just gotta uncover these puppies. It’s like if I don’t let them breathe I’m gonna die. It feels like my shirt is as heavy as a suit of armor or something. And it’s so fucking hot.” In an instant, Hank had his shirt off and if he had man-boobs, as Toby called them – then I’d say I must be a man-boob fanatic. His chest was miraculous. Heavy, heavy thick looking pecs that tensed and bounced as he moved. My mouth watered. The young man was enormous, like a young Lou Ferrigno. I could sense he was the more adventurous of the two – more gregarious and ready to embrace life. I did like Toby’s reserve, though. I had a feeling he was much more mature than his friend but loved hanging out with Hank so much, that he just accepted his friend as he was. They had told me they had known each other a really long time. Both were waiters at a fancy restaurant near the beach, while Hank had just started pursuing bodybuilding and Toby worked hard to build a modeling career. Toby’s looks matched Hank’s hugeness. The smaller big man had a fitness model physique and a face that had certainly caused many-a-wet-dreams over the years. I appreciated beauty as much as I did muscles. “Toby . . . I’m sure you’d be able to catch a few rays while we’re out here drinking and dining. I’m thinking you’d love to darken that already gorgeous tan of yours. Am I right?” “Yes sir. That’s good thinking. I could sure use a little more sun,” Toby replied as he put his beer down, grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt, and lifted it to reveal one of the most chiseled physiques I had ever seen. The two men were like the perfect pair – salt and pepper, Jack and Coke, oysters and champagne, or Ben and Matt. I loved huge pumped muscle – represented by Hank, but I also loved that low body-fat look of a sculpted surfer – represented by Toby. I had chosen perfectly. I pushed a button on the table beside me and soon an elder gentleman stepped out onto the patio. “Gentlemen, might I introduce my friend and butler, Alfred. Alfred, this is Toby and Hank,” I said, pointing to the appropriate guy when I spoke his name. “Gentlemen,” Alfred responded with a raised right eyebrow. “What’s up Al?” Hank said and I saw my butler cringe a little. “It’s nice to meet you, sir,” said Toby, and this made Alfred smile. “What would you like for lunch, guys?” I asked. “You mean, like we would say anything and this Alfred, here, is going to go and make whatever we ask for?” Hank said with total glee in his voice. “No, no, no – not Alfred,” I replied, as the older gentleman turned to me with a shocked look. “He will merely go and order it with the chef. Might I suggest a salmon and shrimp Caesar salad, with toasted garlic bread and then a big cheese and fruit platter for dessert. I also think a nice sauvignon blanc will go nicely with that.” “Is that a vegetable?” Hank asked. “It’s a wine, dude,” Toby quickly said, “That sounds really nice, mister.” “Thank you, Alfred. If you would let the chef know. Oh, how do you like our new friends?” “I haven’t seen bodies as nice as that since . . . um . . . yesterday, sir,” Alfred said, rolling his eyes and heading towards the kitchen. “Do you have a lot of servants, dude?” Hank asked, taking another sip of his beer. “Man, they’re not servants . . . they’re staff. Jeez!” exclaimed Toby. “Well excuse me, do you have a lot of staff, mister?” “A few, yes. By the way, you fellows may call me, Saxon,” I answered. “No more of this ‘mister,’ stuff.” “Is that your name? Wow, it sounds like SAX-ON-the-beach!” Hank said, laughing and getting a ‘shut up’ look from his friend. “Fellas, do the two of you ever wear posers?” I asked, stepping to an outdoor fridge behind a bar to get them two more beers. “You mean those skimpy little bathing suits? Naw, I’m not in competition shape, yet, so I haven’t had to buy one. I’m not sure I’m going to like them. As for Mr. Three-Legged-Toby, here, he can’t wear them because of his larger-than-life endowment. I swear the eight inches I’ve got on him in height all went to his crotch. He’s a monster.” Hank said, boasting openly for his friend. “Dude, some things don’t need to be shared,” Toby said. “It’s not like you can hide it, Tob-ster. Trust me, Saxon, it’s the first thing girls notice when we go out to bars. I’m standing there – six feet, ten inches of solid muscle, but the dames are all looking at his crotch. Most of them are scared to shit of the thing, but there are a few that usually take on the challenge.” “Over-sharing, Hank. I’m serious. Saxon does not want to hear about my dick, okay?” Toby said, clearly embarrassed by the conversation, but he also seemed a little proud of his giant tool, which had definitely not gone unnoticed by me – how could it? “Well, getting back to posers, I just happen to have some new ones in that table at the end of the sofa, Hank. Yes, just in there. Might I suggest that you two get even more comfortable and put some on. There are all sizes, Toby, so your more-than-ample endowment will not have to worry. It would please me very much and brighten the day even more than it already is.” “Wow, these things are really kind of hot,” Hank said as he opened the drawer and pulled out a bunch of still-tagged posers – all different colors and sizes. Toby looked on with horror and nervousness. I knew he’d need a little more convincing. Hank, on the other hand, had already started laying a few across his crotch to imagine what they might look like. “Surely, someone with a body like yours, Toby, and that of your friend’s, should not be covered with unnecessary layers of material. All the work you have done to make yourself buff, it’s only right and kind to let others behold the fruits of your labor.” “Well, when you put it like that, Saxon, it does sound selfish not to share,” Toby said in agreement – his words actually shocking himself. “It would be damn selfish,” Hank added – clearly ready to change. “You got an outdoor changing room Sax, buddy?” “Might I suggest that you both just change right here,” I said, slowly and clearly. “We’re all grown men and there won’t be anything revealed we’ve never seen before. That is, unless you’re embarrassed by your god given bodies and shy about your private parts.” “Fuck it, I did circle jerks with teammates in the locker room during college, so changing here is a piece of cake. I’ve got nothing to hide,” Hank said standing up and pulling down his sweats and briefs at the same time – in one quick, glorious move. Indeed, the huge specimen of manhood definitely had nothing to hide. His thighs looked as big as chairs and the muscles tensed beautifully as he moved. He also had nothing to be ashamed about in the meat department – sometimes a really big man does, indeed, have a nice sized penis, too. There was no ‘trying to make up for shortcomings below the belt’ causing Hank’s lust for bodybuilding. A nicely proportioned, thick, slightly curved dick hung invitingly between his legs as he pulled up some gold, shiny posers he had chosen. It was only when Toby slowly stood up and pulled down his shorts and underwear that Hank’s endowments became obsolete. Most wine bottles were not as thick as this young man’s cock and it hung down almost to knee level. He could have easily been taken for an elephant. The way that it flopped around told me it wasn’t even slightly hard at this insane size, which made me immediately want to suggest something to stimulate it, but I nixed that idea for later on. I swear the obnoxiously large cock only looked right . . . symmetrical . . . because Toby had this sculpted-by-the-gods body with appropriate bulges everywhere. He was of decent height – probably six feet – and his beautiful muscles made you accept the tree he was now stuffing into triple extra-large black posers. I’m sure his goal was that the color would help hide his more-than-a-horse cock, but it was also clear that was hopeless. I swear the thing could actually wrap around his waist. “Now, I think that makes all of us feel a lot better, don’t you,” I said to ease any lingering stress and it seemed to work. “Yeah, I’m feeling really good. Nice beer, snug posers, pumped body, the sun beating down on me, and a fucking mansion surrounding me,” Hank said, his face truly registering how happy he was. “Yes sir, this is nice,” replied the more reserved Toby, adjusting his monumental package. “How big is your chest, Hank?” I asked and the normally outspoken young man turned a little red and looked down at his huge pecs. “I’ve swelled these puppies up to fifty-seven inches in the last month. Gonna hit sixty by the end of the year. I can feel it,” Hank said, tensing the pecs together and then bouncing them. “Probably my best body part. I just got to get the rest of my muscles on par with my pecs and I’ll be ready to compete.” “It looks like you are well on your way, young man,” I replied, admiring his enormous size. “I bet you like to play with your big chest, don’t you?” “Yeah . . . yeah, I do. Like right now. I love to manhandle the big things – trying hard to compress the hard muscle,” he answered – his eyes not leaving his own chest and his hands groping the big mounds with not an ounce of self-consciousness. “Dude, what are you doing?” asked Toby, who was staring at his friend in disbelief. “Can’t help it man, I just sometimes got to feel all this thick muscle. I love how all this hard beef swells when I tense it. And watch – I can make them bounce together or one at a time,” Hank answered, and then he made his pecs do exactly as he had said. “Wouldn’t you like to feel one of his massive pecs, Toby? I bet Hank would love to share the privilege of groping – after all, there are two of them,” I suggested softly – imagining exactly what it would look like. “Oh, hell yeah, T-man. I’d love to have you clamping a strong hand down on my big pec. Bring it in, mister T and show me what you can do.” Hank said, looking into the eyes of his friend. “Those big things are really hot,” Toby said, unbelieving the words came out so easily, and his right hand went up to grip Hank’s massive pec with spread fingers. “Oh shit, dude, they’re so much harder than I thought they’d be.” “Wait til I tense them, dude,” Hank replied and then he flexed his chest with all his might – forcing Toby’s fingers to have to lessen their grip and making both men let little moans escape their mouths. “Fuck, feel free to squeeze harder, dude, my meat can take it. Yeah, hard to hold on to all that tensed beef, isn’t it, dude?” “It’s not hard to hold on to that big-ass nipple, punk,” Toby said as his fingers pinched Hank’s nub hard. “Yeowwww!!!! Oh, fuck that feels good, man,” Hank yelled. “Do it again!” “Look at you, loving the abuse,” Toby said. “You have no idea, Tobster – no idea,” Hank replied, as he let his head fall back and he closed his eyes. The bigger man had started tugging on his other nip in rhythm with his friend’s yanks on the first one. Soft growl-like sounds came from somewhere deep inside Hank. He was enjoying the abuse of his nips, completely. I refused to touch myself as I watched the show. I simply took a sip of the drink I had made myself and gazed at all the muscled beauty before me. The men had forgotten I was there. Toby was looking at his friend’s big pec – mesmerized by how much power he could use on the other guy’s nipple. I wanted to see just how powerful my talents for persuasion could take me. “That plump man-knob looks like it could use a mouth sucking on it, don’t you think, Toby? That would certainly make you feel nice, now wouldn’t it, Hank?” I said as calmly as I could. “Oh, fuck yeah.” “I would like to taste it, bud,” Toby said, politely and with begging in his eyes. That was all the permission the big bodybuilder needed. He grabbed the back of Toby’s head with his big hand and forcibly directed the guy’s face to his waiting pec with its jutting nipple. I could hear how hard Toby’s face hit by the smack it made. The smaller man didn’t seem to mind, at all. He simply began sucking on the nub sticking out from the swollen meat protruding from Hank’s big torso. From the immediate sounds of grunts and groans coming from both men, it was very hard to determine who was enjoying themselves more. Toby’s lips and mouth suctioned so hard that his cheeks caved in and gave him the look of a starved model. Hank writhed uncontrollably from the pleasure suck he was receiving – taking his friend’s head into the air as his back left the sofa. “Damn, Toby that mouth of yours is so fucking hot!” Hank said, without even thinking about it. “Toby does have a beautiful, sweet mouth, doesn’t he, Hank?” I said softly. “Wouldn’t you like to know what those lips, that tongue and his warm mouth taste like?” I was pushing the envelope and I knew it. I didn’t care. The big boy on big boy action happening in front of me was almost too much for me to handle. Huge muscled beef being licked, kissed, and sucked by this beautiful chiseled young man was much more than I had ever dreamed possible when I set out to the gym today. I wanted to see where all of this could lead. I wanted to satisfy all the urges these hot men were creating in my own body. I focused on Hank because he seemed to respond to the promptings the most. I was also beginning to pick up distant stirrings from Toby – something that made the show even better. “Just think how nice it would to be kissing that mouth, Hank,” I said – picturing it in my mind. “Might I suggest you try.” “Come here, babe,” Hank said with heaving breaths and then he locked his fingers in Toby’s thick hair and pulled the smaller man’s head toward his face. I could tell Toby paused briefly, allowing the lustful haze to lift for a few seconds and question what was happening. Hank didn’t want the other guy to wait for very long. The big man wanted to taste Toby’s mouth – that’s all he was focused on, now. He didn’t even miss the wonderful sucking of his huge pec. He smeared his mouth against the now waiting mouth of his friend – roughly, forcibly, making it clear that it was a big man’s kiss. Hank’s tongue attacked. His lips pressed in. He inhaled. And he moaned. There had never been foreplay made in any porn movie better than this. Hank dominated the smaller muscle man and kissed like he was trying to extract Toby’s soul through his mouth. Toby’s fingers had re-found the big nubs on Hank’s chest and were going to town on them, again. Hank’s big hands were all over Toby’s body – one pulling the other guy’s head in even harder into the kiss and the other caressing the chiseled back of the gorgeous man – getting dangerously low with each caress. “Lunch is served,” Alfred announced, near the doorway to inside. Those three words broke the mood and whatever influence I had been enjoying over the boys, but I didn’t mind. I knew we’d be able to return to where we had left off after lunch. Even with the mood ruined, the two young men continued to kiss for a few seconds more. I watched closely to see what would happen as my suggestion wore off. Toby was the first to stop, looking at his friend with wide eyes as Hank continued to press into his face with a kiss. Toby pulled back quickly, realizing that his fingers were tugging on Hank’s nipples – so he jerked them away, too. “What the fuck, Hank?” Toby said, scooting away on the sofa. “I don’t know, Toby,” Hank said, looking a little confused, but satisfied, too. “It was just a little snogging. Don’t know why we did it, but I don’t really care either. You’re a great kisser, dude. A really great kisser.” “That’s not the point, man.” Toby continued. “Hey, I won’t tell anyone if you don’t tell anyone,” Hank said, winking at his friend and then turning to me. “Sorry about that Sax-on-the-beach – I was just really horny and needed to see why all the girls say Toby is a great kisser.” “Oh, don’t worry about me, fellas,” I said, “I was enjoying myself, too. But come, lunch is served. Might I suggest we move to the table over there beneath the umbrellas and have some food and drink?” “I am hungry,” Toby said, standing – his perfectly, symmetrical muscles glistening a little from the sweat caused by his and Hank’s make out session. “I could eat a fucking horse,” Hank said, and he stood - his full six feet ten inches in all its glory, dressed only in golden posers. I had forgotten just how huge the big man was. Because he was constantly around his muscly friend, Toby, his full height and bulk was not always apparent. But as he and I walked side-by-side to the table I felt like some kind of small wind-up doll moving in his shadow. My oversized patio furniture looked small when he was in it. I marveled at the idea that a man so large could navigate through the regular world so easily. I’m sure he found doorways too low, spaces to confining, and many things infinitely too small. That idea thrilled me and I was drawn to sit across from him so I could behold his enormity throughout the meal. Toby sat at one end of the table, obviously still unsure about what had caused Hank’s intense session of sucking face. But more importantly, it was clear he was concerned even more by his own involvement . . . and enjoyment . . . in the action. “Have you always been tall, Hank?” I asked as we began our meal and sipped our wine. “Yeah, I topped six-two in eighth grade and weighed about two-sixty. I dwarfed most of the teachers. It was kind of cool,” the big man answered. “He’s the main reason our high school football team won the state championship four years in a row,” Toby added – clearly proud of his good friend. “And how long have you two known each other?” I asked. “Since the beginning of fourth grade . . . that’s when I moved to our hometown,” Hank answered. “It must be nice – having a best friend for so long,” I said, smiling. “Yeah, it is,” Toby answered, smiling, too. “This guy knows me better than anyone,” Hank said, laughing. “He could get me into a lot of trouble if he ever told some of my secrets.” “And vice versa, dude,” Toby responded. “Might I suggest both of you share something that your friend doesn’t know,” I said with an ease that I hoped would help them feel even more comfortable in sharing. “I sometimes beat off watching myself pose on video or in the mirror,” Hank quickly confessed. “I sometimes beat off watching videos of you posing, too,” Toby quickly said, as well. Both men wouldn’t look at each other. There was something sexually electrifying in the air and no one wanted to disturb it. I, myself, could imagine jerking off a heavy one while watching the big man flex. His foundation was magnificent. I could see the pro competitor he would be in a few more years. A smile crept across Hank’s face as he processed what his friend had said. I realized, then, that it had never even crossed his mind that Toby might find his body hot. He turned to look at the smaller guy. “This can make you squirt, dude?” Hank asked as he flexed his right arm, making the biceps swell huge. “Yeah,” Toby responded softly and stared at the tensed biceps, “If I’m in the right mood.” “That’s fucking hot, bro,” Hank said in return – smiling even more. “It looks like we’re all through with our lunch,” I said and then added, “Might I suggest that we return to the sofa and have a little routine from Hank. I think we’d all love to see him pose.” “Yeah, I’d fucking love that. These posers make me look hot,” Hank said, bringing his arm down and immediately moving to the other area with a full glass of wine. He was tugging the waist band of his posers out, teasingly. “Something on the inside of me is really excited about posing for the two of you.” “I’m glad, Hank,” I said as Toby and I sat down on the sofa with our wine. “Might the outside freely show the same kind of excitement? No one would mind if that happened. We’re all big boys, here. You being the biggest . . . well, in relation to your body, that is. If you got turned on by all of this, we’d all understand.” My suggestion made it so and Hank’s substantial meat in the gold posers thickened and elongated as soon as the sentence was finished. It was like watching cartoon growth. The joy on Hank’s face matched the happiness below. I wondered if shooting hard so quickly made him a little light-headed. My mouth watered as the covered cock continued to grow – even when I thought it was fully hard. It seemed that Hank was a grower. I had a feeling that Toby was a grower and a shower – since the mammoth tool was already showing through the black posers – completely flaccid. I looked forward to suggesting he might be ‘more excited.’ “Fuck, Hank! You want to turn down that monster in your posers, dude,” Toby said as he couldn’t help but notice his friend’s throbbing hard-on. “Can’t help it man. It must be the wine. It must be the sun. Or maybe it’s because I’m about to do this for your two,” Hank said, with no apology, as he brought both of his arms up into a perfect double biceps pose. “Grrrrrrrr, look at all that beautiful hard meat, fellas.” I almost asked if he meant up above or down below, but seeing his monstrous arms ballooning into the air made my mouth drop open. The same response came from Toby, too. This thrilled Hank to no end. He flexed harder – veins popping out on his forehead and his cheeks turning red. It looked like his arms then swelled a few more inches thicker. The man’s muscles were breathtaking. I so wanted to play with my hardening cock, but willed my hand not to move to my crotch. I did not, however, want to put the same restrictions on my friend, Toby – my sofa mate. He was mesmerized by Hank’s massive arms, so I took advantage of the situation. “We’re all friends here, Toby,” I said. “Feel free to do whatever comes natural as you watch your big best friend, Hank, show off for you. He’s such a colossal beast, don’t you think? Let your body respond as it wants to.” “Yes, sir,” came the soft response as Toby continued to stare at the big biceps in front of us. “Might I suggest that you grab the opportunity to fully enjoy the show. We might let your own colossal beast give us a show, too,” I said, looking at the man’s black posers. Color drained from Toby’s face as his posers began to be stretched. I knew that all the blood in his body was pumping hard to a certain part of him- that had suddenly started to grow. I wondered in shocked awe at how the man could walk with the giant thing that had hung between his legs, but now I was in utter dismay as his enormous cock thickened. The head popped out from the waistband of his black posers and it looked as big as my fist. And, yet, the thing kept growing. It snaked up Toby’s muscled thigh like a boa constrictor inching up the trunk of a tree. Suddenly, I was aware of how thin and fragile my wrist looked compared to his dick. Even when I thought it had reached its maximum size, the thing kept getting bigger and thicker. Surely the kid would fall over forward if he stood up – the weight of that monster cock completely throwing off his balance. By now, the gigantic rod stuck straight up – the tip nestled in the gaping crevice at the bottom of Toby’s perfectly formed pecs. “Fucking hell, Toby, that thing is bigger than a telephone pole!” Hank exclaimed as he released his tensed fists, but kept his arms up beside his head. “I’ve never seen it hard! You make my cock look like a toothpick!” This was far from the truth, but I could see why Hank would feel inadequate. Toby’s mammoth pole looked inhuman – like it should be attached to a guy ten times the size of the guy who presently sported it. It’s when Toby’s quite muscular hand wrapped around . . . well, tried to wrap around . . . the thing that it’s true size was highlighted. Toby’s hand – the hand of a well-built man – looked tiny holding on to the telephone pole. When he started pumping the big thing, his hand looked even smaller. Hank watched Toby’s hand go up and down on the king dong. The big man was mesmerized in a way he hadn’t expected. The stroking of the huge cock made Hank want to do something equally as impressive, so he flexed his guns again. Toby’s gaze was glued to the monstrous mounds tensed in front of him. I could not decide where I wanted my focus to be – the enormous pecs and arms or the equally gigantic cock. It was a glorious problem to have. “That’s the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen, Toby – you sitting there pumping that big thing.” “Then you haven’t looked in a mirror recently, Hank, because those arms of yours are the hottest things I’ve ever seen.” “Might I suggest you come closer, Hank,” I said lightly – making it as if I wasn’t even there, only a voice in the wind. “Maybe you two would like to touch each other.” Hank’s legs moved without him bringing his arms down or taking his eyes away from Toby’s. Hank used his big leg to push the coffee table in front of Toby and I to the side. Luckily, our wine glasses were elsewhere. Toby spread his legs farther apart, but kept his hand moving up and down on his hard-as-hell cock. Hank knelt right in front of his friend – between his legs, his big body barely fitting. He was flexing so hard his fists were shaking a little and his knuckles were white. He leaned forward and Toby placed his free hand on top of Hank’s huge, tensed right biceps. I saw both men jerk a little from a sexual jolt when their skin met. Hank’s giant pecs rolled upward and Toby’s giant cock visually throbbed. “Might I suggest you tell me what Hank’s arm feels like, Toby,” I said, in almost a whisper. “Like I’m massaging concrete that’s had the sun’s heat pounding on it all afternoon.” “Wouldn’t you like to feel that huge cock between your big pecs, Hank? Might I suggest you make your friend feel good by squeezing his hardness between your hardness.” “Aw hell, that would be the best. How about it, Toby - you want to fuck my massive chest.” The slit of Toby’s dickhead opened up and a big gob of thick white semen seeped out and that was the only answer needed. Hank kept the biceps flexed that still had Toby’s hand rubbing all over it. At the same time, he took his other hand and reached down to pull his mammoth left pec away from the other – only to realize he’d have to pull further as Toby’s free hand steered his mighty cock between the mounds of beef. The big man released his hold and pec meat instantly engulfed Toby’s big rod. Hank’s pecs were the only things that could actually make Toby’s cock look regular. Instantly, Hank tensed his chest and Toby let out a long moan. Then, the smaller man started to buck his hips up and down, humping his cock in the tight crevice of the humongous pecs before him. And he still kept his hand on Hank’s flexed biceps. “Fuck my meaty pecs, man. Yeah, that feels so good.” “Shit, Hank, how can you squeeze your chest so hard? I’m not going to last long, bud, if you don’t lessen your pec grip just a little.” I felt I had died and gone to muscle worship heaven. Had there ever been a couple made for each other more than these two? Seeing that huge cock surrounded by hard bulging muscle was the thing that finally made me rub my own crotch. There was no way that I could see these two muscled behemoths pleasing each other in this way and not get turned on. I also pictured Alfred, my chef, my gardener, my chauffeur, my security guard, and my pool boy all gathered around the television where the security camera feed was delivered – with their own dicks in their hands - all getting off to the sight before them. I knew the security room was going to smell like a bathhouse for days. “Hank . . . uh . . . . man . . . ungh . . . you gotta . . . quit . . . oh shit . . . squeezing so…” I looked up and saw that Hank was now looking into the eyes of his best friend. I saw a determined look in his gaze and knew he wanted one thing and one thing only. He wanted Toby’s big cock to explode. Watching the thick big head of that cock poking out from between massive pecs as Toby forced his crotch forward and then pulled it back was almost too much for all of us. It was clear, however that Hank’s chest was in control of the entire situation. “Come on buddy, let that big thing blow. Cover my massive pecs with your hot spunk,” Hank growled as he spoke. “Wanna milk you dry, man.” “Quit . . . squee-zing . . . ungh . . . ungh . . . stop . . . Hank, please . . . I can’t . . . hold . . . it . . . in . . . please…” It was like watching a movie you’ve seen a hundred times and knew the ending by heart. It was clear that Toby’ hard cock was being smashed by even harder mounds of muscle. His cockhead was now a deep purple. It was clear the poor kid would not be able to hold out any longer. I felt like I should get an umbrella – for the ejaculation was going to be momentous. We all knew what was coming – so to speak. “I’m . . . sorry . . . Hank . . . I’m going to . . . so sorry, man . . . ungh . . . ungh . . . unggggghhhhhhh!” To say that Hank’s chin, neck, and chest got sprayed would be an understatement. It was more like he got hosed down. Toby’s giant cock could obviously store up more juice and propel it more forcibly than that of a normal man. Hot cum shot up into the air and rained down – splattering loudly against Hank’s chest. And still the big man’s tits squeezed. And still the large cock exploded. It was like a gif on constant repeat – a never ending fountain of Toby’s milk. I was worn out just watching the boy have an orgasm. There was no telling how spent he felt at the end of his eruption. “Fuck, that was incredible, Toby. It’s like you could keep every sperm bank in the world fully supplied forever. I’ve never seen someone spew like that,” Toby said, pulling his chest back and watching the enormous dick flop out from between his pecs. The towering cock was still hard and stayed poking up into the air. All three of us stared at it - waving back and forth a little like a flagpole in the wind. I looked down and saw that Hank’s posers were sopping wet – he had clearly joined in with Toby’s explosion. The big man obviously could not hold out watching his best friend release a supersized load. I admired the mammoth wall of muscle that was the young man’s body. It was even more spectacular covered in the drying cum of the beautiful guy across from him. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” said Toby, his gaze staring into Hank’s eyes. “Yeah? That’s kind of funny, Tobster, because I’ve sat in my room many-a-night yanking myself to a big finale and wishing it had been your hand, mouth, or ass making me explode,” Hank said in response. It suddenly hit me that I had not suggested either statement. I hadn’t even subconsciously thought the words that were being shared. I was a little taken aback by what was happening in front of me. Hank leaned back towards Toby and slid his big hands under the other man’s ass. Toby wrapped his legs around his big friend. Hank stood up, taking the smaller muscleman into the air with him. “How about we take a little dip - to do a little clean up?” Hank asked as he turned and walked down the stairs into the cool water of the pool. I watched in astonishment as the two big men kept moving until they stood with water at chest level. Still supported by Hank’s arms, Toby splashed water onto the big pecs, neck, and massive arms of his friend – washing off all the dried spunk. The two men never took their eyes away from each other. Once they both sparkled in the sunlight because of water droplets, Toby brought his face to Hank’s and they began to kiss passionately. I no longer existed to either of them. I no longer had to suggest anything. I simply watched. It was then that it occurred to me . . . I might suggest that they grow…
  8. dredlifter

    m/m My Valentine's Day Fantasy Man

    So as you can guess from the title, I was really hoping I could get this posted last week. But alas, life got in the way. Hopefully you're still up for a little romance story in the spirit of V-Day. ++++++++++++++++++++++++ There’s nothing worse than having to work late on a Friday. And I don’t care if it’s an hour or just ten minutes, once that clock strikes 5:00pm I need to be gone. Most of the time I am able to bug out 30-60 minutes early on Fridays, but alas, today I had a proposal that needed to be completed by 5:00pm. All of my office mates had already left, lucky bastards. Today was Valentine’s Day and flowers and candies littered the desktops and they had all left to prepare for their own evening dates. Finally at 4:33pm my last quotation arrived and I was able to finish my proposal and make sure it showed up in my outbox. With a huff I packed up my computer laptop and departed the office at 5:04pm. Still late. Ugh! On the drive home I couldn’t wait to get to the gym, my daily escape from office life. It’s what I jokingly call ‘Miller time’. Because my name is Miller and I love the gym. I love exercising my body, the rush of endorphins, how I’m able to release those stresses that build up over the day slogged in front of my computer screen. Not to mention, the added bonus of the potential to view some eye candy. The gym has been part of my near daily routine now for about 10 years. After college as I started to soften I made a commitment to keep myself in shape and I was proud to say that I had accomplished that goal. Now, you may be thinking that I’m some big sexy bulging bodybuilder stud with how dedicated I am to my gym. Well, I’d say I’m sexy at least. But the truth is that I was cursed, or blessed some would say, to be a true hardgainer with a jackrabbit metabolism. Now that’s not to say I’m a skinny either. With a decade of dedication I’ve built my 5’9 frame up to a solid 165 lbs. My wiry muscles are all evident when I take off my shirt, especially my abs. With my low bodyfat I have a pleasing vascularity and defined creases between the muscle groups. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve been called a stud before, and even a couple of young 120-lbs twinks had referred to me as a “muscle guy” in the past. My tight body combined with my good looks meant I’d never got any complaints. The only real thing I’ve had to learn to overcome was my shy and reserved personality. Thankfully as I’ve aged that has improved in tandem with the strides made in the gym. While I had a tight, ripped body, I’d accepted the fact that I’d never be a huge bodybuilder. And that was ok with me. Truth be told, in my fantasies I enjoy the idea of being a smaller guy to a big pumped stud. It’s a scenario that has played out in my mind countless times when I’m in the middle of my 45-minute cardio sessions. I do cardio five times a week. I do lift weights, mostly full body-type routines, another three times to ensure the muscle I do have stays prominent, but for the most part I could be classified as a cardio bunny. As I mentioned above, I’ve always been a bit of a dreamer and I’ve found those cardio sessions go by much quicker when I’m playing out a little fantasy in my mind. Sometimes I had even jotted them down on paper afterwards and submitted them to my favorite muscle fetish websites. Not gonna lie, I’ve received some excellent feedback on some of my tales. As soon as my legs start trudging along that belt my mind runs wild with sexy bodybuilder-centric fantasies. So there I was rushing to get home and get into the gym, get a good sweat on and relieve some stress before the weekend. Twenty-five minutes later I was in my gym and walking along on my regular treadmill, tucked away in a semi-private corner of the gym. From here I could see most of the gym while still remaining semi-concealed. Perfect for stud-gazing. I looked around and nobody else was there. Friday evenings were already notoriously dead. Most of the younger gym bros and babes were eager to get out and party, showing off their toned bods to attract similarly built mates. But even then, today was more dead than usual. Then I remembered again that it’s also Valentine’s Day. That would likely do it, I think. The remaining Friday stragglers are all probably are getting ready for a big Valentine’s day date, prepping and a primping for a night of romance. How cheesy. Ok, Ok. I’m not heartless. Truth be told that sounds amazing. In my 20’s I definitely thought the concept was pure cheese but now at 31 I could definitely see the appeal of a special night with a special someone. Especially if that someone had a square jaw and some huge biceps. After the five-minute warmup timer had ticked away its last few seconds I sped up the treadmill to my jogging speed. What should today’s scenario be?, I think to myself. Perhaps a reunion story. Something with two long separated friends and one is now Olympia-esque. Maybe a sexy librarian discovering secret muscle growth powder in a hidden closet? How about a macro-muscle story involving a giant jacked football coach? Maybe a humiliation story with one guy outgrowing and dominating his best friend. Naw, only weirdos are into that sort of thing. Plus, it’s Valentine’s day, so today’s scenario should lend itself to some romance. As I ran through the possibilities I, heard a soft clang of the gym door being opened and shut. Unable to avoid the slight distraction I look over to see what other unlucky schlub is going to be working out alone with me this Valentine’s. Immediately my spirits perk up as I recognize the man walking to the weight area across from me. He is, in simplest terms, the hottest man I’ve ever seen. He’s a regular at this gym and has been for a few years now. In fact…wait a minute. Oh damn! It’s been three years exactly since I first saw him. Three years ago on Valentine’s Day. I remember that vividly because just a week before my then-asshole boyfriend broke up with me. Yeah, right before Valentine’s Day. He’d been cheating on me with a supposedly straight hunk from the next city over. I was so distraught I decided to go the gym that day to try for forget that I was single and broken-hearted that Cupid’s day. Alas, that day quickly turned brighter as me and the other lonely gym-goers were treated to our first look at a new member. That day three years ago he had strutted in with a large duffel bag slung around his beefy shoulders. He was wearing a sleeveless gray shirt. Instantly it became clear to anyone that he was the new top stud of this gym. I remember praying to God that he wasn’t just visiting, that he had in fact enrolled. It seemed God was smiling down on me that day. From my typical perch atop the treadmill I stole glances to the weight area to watch him workout. At first he warmed up as I studies his features. At the time he looked to be a thirty-something with a ruggedly handsome face that would’ve made me feel extremely self-conscious if it weren't for the fact that it was also so welcoming. While his face exuded masculinity with his strong jaw, deep set eyes and wide brow, it also had a certain softness to it. He didn’t have the razor sharp looks of a male model, but frankly, the deep cut cheekbones never did much for me. I much preferred the handsome, approachable, next door, jock look…and hello Mr. Former-High-School-Quarterback. Or perhaps he’d been a linebacker with as naturally thick as his frame was, noticeable even under the blanket of muscles that coated him. To top it off he was rocking a short, clean cut beard that covered his cheeks, chin and wrapped around his mouth. No thick straggly wild beard on him, though he oozed enough testosterone he could easily grow one if he wanted. But no, it looked professionally groomed. On top of his head his hair was similarly trimmed. Short but not buzzed with just enough length to allow for slight upward styling toward the front. On that day his beard was mostly dark brown…but in the years since his beard and the sides of his head had started to just subtly become sprinkled with flecks of grey, which only emphasized his experienced sexual aura. As if he weren’t hot enough when he first walked in three years ago. As he warmed up that fateful historic day one of the gym’s trainers, Brienne, stopped by to welcome him to our facility. I had gotten to know Brienne fairly well during my years attending the gym so I made sure to have a chat with her after my workout to discuss this new slab of steak. As they spoke I saw him smile to here and holy mother… The corners of his cheeks spread outward as his sparkling straight teeth exposed themselves. A perfect smile. It just did not seem fair for the rest of manhood that such a perfect specimen could exist. And I haven’t even started talking about his body! What a body. It was a body that matched his face. While Brienne was a short woman, he towered over her indicating to me that he was well over 6 ft tall. I would later learn 6 ft 3 to be exact. Examining his exposed arms, which were rippling, vascular and tanned, along with the way his pecs pressed against his shirt and how his legs hugged his sweatpants, it was clear he was exceptionally developed. With my years of experience of ogling musclemen online I had pegged him at about 250-260 lbs comparing him to some other tall bodybuilders I stalked...er, "followed" on social media. His vascularity lead me to surmise that he was around or just under 10% bodyfat, meaning that he was impressively muscular. No doubt legitimate amateur bodybuilder big. That day he was doing a full body routine. A bit odd for a lifter of his caliber but I had guessed that he was simply taking the day to familiarize him with his new gyms’ weights and machines. Nonetheless, he attacked every exercise with fervor and worked up quite a sweat, soaking his gray shirt and giving his meaty arms a nice sheen. I was sad to depart the the treadmill once my session was complete since he had only worked about half of his muscle groups, but I forced myself to leave. I did not want to give away my muscle-stalker tendencies just yet. On the way out I stopped by the front desk for a quick chat with Brienne. As she saw me approach she mouthed the words “OH MY GOD” indicating her shared awe of the sexy stud. “Ok, Brienne, who is THAT guy?” “Oh you know, Miller. Can’t share that, gym privacy policy!” “You bitch. Spill the beans.” Brienne giggled before looking around. “His name is Hank Walker. Just moved here from Montana.” “Uhhh, of course it’s a hyper masculine name like that. And of course he's a huge sexy mountain man.” “He’s 34 years old and yes, he’s joining our gym.” “Perfect! Just three years older than me…” “Whatever, Miller, that daddy is gonna be mine!” “Ugh. You’re probably right. Guys like him are guaranteed to be straight.” And thus, that day three years ago started my stalker-ish obsession with Hank. We both tended to workout right after work, before the gym became busy with the younger crowd a bit later in the evening. And now that Hank was a regular member I was sure to avoid adjusting my schedule as much as possible. I wanted every opportunity I could to watch him workout from the safety of my treadmill. Of course, a couple of times a week I was afforded the opportunity to get nearer to him when I did my weights routine. It would take all my strength of will not to stare at him as he would lift on the bench next to me. Watching him workout was pure porn for me. I’m purely a muscle lover. When I watch porn, my favorite parts tend to be the foreplay where the guys flex and feel each other. I’ve never understood why so many porn studios hire these big muscular guys and then spend 90% of the video doing closeups of the penetration. Such a waste. Watching Hank’s muscles bunch and flex was hypnotizing, not just to me but to the other gym goers. Those first few weeks he was stopped often by other lifters complimenting him, asking for advice and just generally wanting to be next to this magnetic man. To his credit, he never once lost patience with them and was happy to engage with his new gym family. And if his new admirers lingered too long he would politely excuse himself back to his own workout. Not only was he tall, huge, handsome, he was extremely friendly and good-natured as well… Seriously, fuck this guy, right?!? He’s probably hung like a horse too. And judging by that full bulge, that seemed likely as well. I’ll never forget when he came up to talk to me one hump day afternoon. I was doing my fast paced walk on the treadmill to get warmed up. At this point he had been working out at my gym for a few months and we had exchanged a few silent nods in passing. The gym was especially deserted this Wednesday night and it was just us two and couple of older women using the machines. As I fidgeted with the controls I heard a deep sultry voice that would rival Sam Elliot and James Earl Jones. “Wow, dead in here isn’t it, treadmill guy.” His voice sent shivers down my spine as I turned my head to see his inviting face. I’d been eyeballing him for some time by now from the side but this was the first time I had looked him straight on. Of course, I noted how even though I was elevated six inches up on the treadmill this perfect man was tall enough that I was looking him right in the eyes. And those beautiful hazel yes. And his perfect symmetrical face. Somehow I found my resolve to address him. “”Treadmill guy?’” “Well yeah, I swear I see you on this treadmill every day.” “Well I supposed I’ll call you ‘dumbbell guy’ since you use them every day.” Instantly my throat tightened up, afraid that I had offended this titan. Thankfully he chuckled and his pecs rippled under his shirt. “Fair enough. I’m Hank. Thought I might as well say hi since I see you here all the time. Great dedication you got.” “Well that’s very nice of you to say since…um…you are obviously very dedicated too.” He grinned as I took the opportunity to scan him. “You are one big dude, Hank.” “Big is the goal! I guess you could say I dabble in bodybuilding.” With that he squared his shoulders with a half-flex. And yet with just that minor tensing he seemed to expand another six inches wider. “I’d say you more than dabble. You’re the biggest guy at this gym for sure.” He thanked me before one of those awkward, new acquaintance silences occurred. “Well it’s nice to meet you, Hank. I’m Miller,” I replied, hoping I had successfully hidden the fact that I knew his name months ago. “Treadmiller,” he spoke. “I’m sorry.” “So you’re Treadmiller. Ya know, Treadmill guy. Treadmiller.” “How very clever.” He smiled and laughed again. “Well that will help me remember your name. Don’t be a stranger, Treadmiller!” And with that he turned and sauntered to the free weights, letting me take in his expansive back and hugely bubbled ass. How could a guy so tall have and ass and legs that big? It’s not fair. From then on we would smile and wave to each other. I was more than happy to make any sort of connection to Hank. I was fully smitten. There wasn’t much more exciting to me than getting to watch Hank workout. One of my favorite things about him was that he was a true bodybuilder. I mean, anybody could see that he was a bodybuilder, sure. But he was constantly building his body. What I mean is, he was always GROWING. He wasn’t a body-maintainer. He was always building himself bigger and bigger. And sexier. Seeing him several times a week, at first it was hard to notice. Like any small changes to your own body that can occur, when you are familiarized with something it can be difficult to see progress. But over time it became apparent with little clues here and there. For example, when he did leg days he liked to wear this old light-orange Sunkist t-shirt that still had the sleeves. I could see why he wore it. He looked good in anything but the way that light fabric hugged his pecs, and delts, the way the sleeves perfectly hugged his biceps and triceps, was enough to make me gasp. It was one of those massive shirts that draped on his physique yet still evidenced the bulges underneath. Over some weeks I had thought I had seen that shirt get tighter and tighter…and then one day he came in and the sleeves were torn off. And he proceeded to do an arm workout. I had surmised that he had grown too big for it to be ‘comfortably’ loose so it had graduated into his repertoire of sleeveless upper body workout shirts. Not to mention the fact that he was lifting heavier and heavier weights. When he first started at our gym I remember watching in awe as he benched 355 lbs for a solid set of 10. It was when that had increased to 405 for 12 that I really gave his body a good look. Ok I always did that, but I started paying more attention. And sure enough, his pecs bulged outward and seemed to be crashing into his delts and biceps more and more when he was standing there relaxed. His traps were thickening and rising slightly higher and higher, creeping up his neck which was also expanding. His legs and ass, already enormous, had made some truly tremendous gains. Not to mention the fact the day Brienne had told me Hank had convinced the gym owner to purchase a set of 150, 175 and 200 lb dumbells! So he was constantly growing. Bigger and stronger. Hotter and sexier with each passing year. I noticed that he never had an offseason either. There were a few big guys at my gym, some who had even competed. It was something to watch all my former gym muses, the former biggest and studliest guys gather around and watch and gawk at Hank while he did his workouts. Ray whatshisname? Tyler whocares? They were like little boys next to Hank. My former muses often seemed to have cycles where they would bloat up to bulk and then cut down. Sometimes they would put on a ton of weight all at once, with a lot of fat baked in as well. But Hank…it’s like he was always one or two months out from a competition. He just slowly but steadily grew bigger and more muscular while never losing his striations, definition and vascularity. Knowing that he was always growing fueled my masturbatory sessions many times. Ok, in truth it was probably 75% of the time. Maybe 90%. Shut up, the guy was fucking HOT. And so back to the present day… As I ramped up my treadmill Hank made his way into the weight room. Glancing at me he give me a one hand salute and I returned the gesture. He must be in a bit of a hurry today, often he stops by to say a quick hi. I wonder with it being Valentine’s Day if he has a hot date tonight. Tonight is going to generate and excellent fantasy situation for me, I can already tell and my brains starts to run wild with the possibilities. One nice thing about Hank is that watching him is the perfect beginning for any fantasy. After he warms up he makes his way the dumbbells and an individual flat bench. Today is going to be a treat for me, I can tell. I had long ago memorized his workouts and I quickly recognized from his stretches and warmup sets that today was going to be a chest and biceps day. After some ‘light’ warmup sets with the 80 lb to 100 lb dumbbells that he stood up and stripped off his baggy t-shirt. Oh yes. A treat indeed. Hank was wearing a blank stringer-T that draped off his glorious tanned muscles, the tiny straps having no chance of covering any of his expansive torso. His traps and pecs were so large the straps left a deep gap under them like a rope bridge spanning a deep crevice. As I mentioned earlier, Hank was always growing and today he was in full on bodybuilder mode. Big, pumped and defined already and he was just starting. Even his shorts, which were by no means intended to be skin tight, hugged his massive legs and ass due to his hugeness. I watched with lust as he worked his way up to the 120s, 150s, 175s… then the biggest dumbbells in the gym…the 200 lb monsters. And his titanic body handled the weight masterfully. Each rep was performed with form and precision. Each time he pushed the weights up slowly yet forcefully, his pectoral pillows bunched upwards creating a deep ravine in between. Even though each rep was perfect, Hank would let out these deep sexy grunts of effort and his skin would flush and moisten with sweat. After his last rep he set the dumbbells down and even through the treadmill I could feel the THUD as 400 lbs were suddenly set on the ground. Mind you, he didn’t drop the weights, but setting down two 200 lb weights, it’s impossible not to cause a slight tremor. I swooned as I realized he could bench TWO of me easily, one in each hand. After racking the massive cylinders he quickly moved on to barbell bench press. Most gym bros start with this but in his current routine the intent was to go lighter and do more reps to force more blood into those pecs. Of course, if you’d never seen Hank bench, you would assume this was his first lift of the day. Why? Because he slapped plate after plate after plate on each side of the bar. Even after a few set of heavy dumbbell presses Hank proceeded to work up to a 405 lb bench press of 3 sets of 15. Just incredible power. My dick thickened as I listened the four plates on each side of the bar rattle and clang against each other. It was a white noise that signaled size and power were being built. By now Hank's shoulders and triceps were also pumped up due to their secondary support. After the last set he stood up, looked in the mirror and brought his elbows together to flex his pecs. Though he had a body to be one, Hank was not one of those gym bros who full on poses in the mirror. At least not in the middle of the weight room. Nonetheless as a sculptor of sinew he new how to examine himself and make sure his muscular clay was being molded as he saw fit. He moved on to incline dumbbell flies which afforded me another dick plumping view of his pecs mounding upward. I of course made a mental note how he was using the 80 lb dumbbells for flies, where most men couldn’t even simply flat bench that amount, including myself. He was power. He was masculinity. He was pure sex. He finished up his chest pump with with some elevated pushups to give himself a deep finishing burn. You would think a man of his size would struggle having to push that much bodyweight, but he proceeded to pump out 3 sets of 43, 37, and 34 reps respectively, but who’s counting? Me. I counted and watched every rep of my dream man’s workout. By now his pecs were jutting, swollen and red with pump. The tiny stringer left his perfect, perky nips exposed, though they weren’t always easy to see since his pecs were so large that his nips pointed downward. And so, after just 27 minutes he was done with his chest pump workout and what a pump it gave him. Now it was time for biceps. What self respecting muscle lover doesn’t enjoy a good biceps workout? Or better yet, watching an 37 year old uber stud complete a biceps workout. Hank started out with some hammer curls, the mass builders. Again he worked his way up the dumbbell rack pumping the big weights simultaneously with both arms. I took note how Hank rarely spent time down near the smaller weights. It was like anything under 40 lbs had little use for him. He finished his fourth set by eeking out 11 reps with the 90 lbs dumbbells. By now the effort was clear on his face. His chiseled face scrunched up and he squinted his eyes as he grueled his way through each rep. And if you thought he might have an ugly heavy-effort face you obviously have not been reading this story. Even his effort face was sexy as hell. The sets had their intended affect as his arms seemed to have added an inch or two just from the initial pump. Being such a tall and built guy, his arms easily had to have been over 20 inches when he started, he was probably now flirting with 22s or even 23s. Next he grabbed and easy-bar and loaded it up with 155 lbs and began to curl the taxed metal bar over and over. Now that he had worked out his overall arm thickness, the easy bar targetted those massive peaks. Peaks that I wanted to run my tongue over. And don’t get me started on that cephalic vein. What had started as a licorice-sized vein had engorged to something more akin to an air compressor hose. Arm muscles that enormous required a large diameter tube to transport the blood and nutrients to fuel his growth. While he was already vascular, by this point in the workout his body had become a network of veins threatening to break away from his engorged body. He shook out his arms and I watched mesmerized as the unflexed meat of his triceps swayed and wobbled. I swear even from across the gym I could feel the air being displaced by the movements of such a muscular titan. He finished up with preacher curls, this time lightening up the weight and ‘only’ using the 55 lb dumbbells. To really blast those peaks upward toward the sky. Even from my vantage point I could make out he split between the two muscle heads that give the biceps their name. After the third set Hank returned the weights to the rack and once again shook out his arms before flexing them to tightness at his side. His workout was one of the most erotic things I had ever seen. Sure, I’d spied him lifting before, but as he was continuously growing, this was the biggest and most pumped I’d ever seen him. Shit, even his legs looked pumped even thought this was all upper body. But when you pour as much effort into every rep, every set, as he does, it’s clear that an overall residual pump had been created. Hank then grabbed an elastic band and proceeded to some quick stretches to make sure all his mobility was intact. I sighed as my boner pressed against my hip, sad that he would be departing soon. Hank's workouts were always focused and expeditious, but today’s was even a step faster. Perhaps for this lovers holiday he had some lucky girl waiting for him tonight and he was in a hurry to get to her. Bitch. In my developing fantasy this hyper masculine man would be heading my direction as soon as his workout was finished and smother me with his muscles... By now my typical 45 minutes of cardio were up and I had slowed down the treadmill to a warm down walk. I prepared myself for Hank's departure but spotted him walking my way. My heart started beating faster as he neared. He usually left right after his weight session so I rarely got to see him at his biggest. All pumped. Sweaty. Massive. As he approached he looked me right in eye and gave me a warm smile. What could he possibly want with me? This tall, sexy bodybuilder could have anybody- “Are you getting lost in that pretty little head of yours again, babe?” He interrupted me with a smirk. The sexiest, most lust-filled smirk you can imagine. “Well don’t take too much more time in that head of yours, we’ve got that reservation tonight at the Red Orchid.” He chuckled and rested his big arms on the bars of the treadmill. Being this close I was bathed in his workout scent. A powerful aroma of testosterone, sweat, musk and a hint of deodorant. “I- I was just watching you workout.” His grin widened. Fuck he was smoldering when he smiled. “So you WERE having a gym fantasy, watching little ole me lift?” “I can assure you there is NOTHING little about you.” He glanced at his pumped pecs and arms, then back to my yearning face. His smirk returned an he proceeded to bounce his pecs before raising his left arm and flexing a titanic biceps in front of me. For me. I said nothing but I’m sure at least 3 oz of drool fell out of my mouth. “You’re right, Miller. Everything on me seems to be BIGGER than ever. It must be the affect my adorable husband has on me. He makes me want to grow and grow for him.” I caught my breath and was finally able to speak. “And nothing excites your husband than watching his big sexy bodybuilder man grow bigger.” This time is was Hank's turn to close his eyes and maintain control. “You are so sexy, Miller, I can’t even tell you how much I love you and your tight power packed body. Even though I dwarf you there is nothing sexier to me. And I know you love my size and power. In fact, I got a quick surprise for you babe. Guess what.” Though nothing could ever top the surprise when he proposed to me 16 months ago, any surprises Hank had given me in the past ultimately led to very exciting things, so I was eager to know what he was up to... “What?” “I did it.” “You did it? You did what?” I looked at him as he smirked at me. He stepped back and proceeded to perform a side chest pose. Then a most muscular, his face scrunching as he let out a alpha growl. He his all his poses with graceful fluidity. His flexed muscles exploded even bigger. His posing always took my breath away and I drooled some more as I took in his size. Size. A lot of size. Suddenly it dawned on me. “WAIT…you did…IT??” “Fuck yeah, babe. I finally crossed the barrier. Weighed in at 303 lbs this morning naked.” “UNNNNNNNNN” I was unable to contain my moan and I felt my rock hard dick leak. It was a goal that my husband, with obvious support from me, had had since we started dating two years ago. Way back when Hank was just a “small’ 257 lb bodybuilder. “Oh Hank. You are so damn sexy. And so BIG. You’ve got me raging for you, my big man. We might have to skip that dinner so I can ravage you right now!” I walked up to my hulking husband and wrapped my lithe arms around his titanic torso, pushing my cheeks against his pumped pectorals. From his six inch height advantage he leaned me back, leaned down and smothered my face with his mouth, his beard sexily scratching at my shaved cheeks. Even his tongue was pure power as he used its size to dominate my smaller warm mouth. My arms felt all around his pumped muscles, squeezing and groping the various rock hard masses on his body, being moistened by the sheen of sweat that coated him. I broke myself free of his hovering mouth, reached under his arms and pushed his triceps upward. With a smile he caught on and brought both arms up into a Mr. Olympia worthy double-biceps pose. I smashed my face into his right arm, licking the warm pulsating mass. I was soon sliding my mouth up and under his arm until I buried my face in his armpit and inhaled. My big man moaned deep and heavy from above. “Shit babe, if we don’t stop we are going to give the gym’s cameras a porno show.” “It would be worth it! You're just too hot, Hank.” I reached down and grabbed his bulge through his shorts. Like the rest of him it was over-sized, of course. Seriously, fuck this guy, right? Yes. And I had gotten to. Often. It’s ok to be jealous. I loved how I could make his enormous body shudder as I grabbed his thick, perfectly cylindrical cock. Like the rest of him it was big, almost nine inches long. And let me assure you, those inches were not those elongated "gay inches" either. He wasn’t actually 7 inches. His unit was legitimately a huge monster cock at just under nine pure inches. Hank grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back, holding me at arm’s length. I could see the fight in his eyes, he wanted this to continue as much as me, but alas, we had a reservation at the most expensive restaurant in town. “I promise you, Miller. You will get to explore every inch of this massive 300 pound body after dinner…that is, right after I hold you down and lick every square inch of yours.” My body shuddered as I pictured my future. I regained my composure and calmed my heartbeat. “You’re right. We can do it. We can control ourselves for the two hours, right? RIGHT?!” We both laughed. It would be a tough mission for both of us. “Plus the idea of seeing your massiveness in that suit of yours is too much to pass up.” “Attaboy. And you know, that suit was tailored for me when I was just 275 lbs…so it’s gonna be extra tight now.” I rolled my eyes back again and moaned. “And for being such a good sport, I’ll even wear my posing trunks under the suit for when you undress me after dinner.” "The blue shiny ones? Those are my favorite." "You got it, babe." Thank god the gym this Valentine’s Day was deserted. I’m sure two dudes throwing massive wood in the middle of the gym floor went against gym policy. “I can’t wait, Hank. I love you.” “I love you too, Miller. Happy Valentine’s Day, babe.”
  9. londonboy

    m/m Gramps Powered - Parts 1 - Finale

    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.
  10. girthandpower

    m/m The Curious Case of the Growing Boyfriend

    EDIT: I've accidentally posted this story in two different places because I didn't realize there was a separate place for unfinished stories. I can't figure out to delete this one. Oh well! Hey bros. Writing a pretty personal story that I'd thought I'd share with you all. I'm super tired and depressed these days, so writing stuff like this really helps me process. This story isn't just a quick sex scene, so I want you to try and get into the characters. It's still in progress, so any feedback helps. Appreciate it! CHAPTER 1 - The Gay Bar Escapade --- They met online. Usually, online connections don’t really work out. Sometimes, you think you’re talking to a cute boy who just got out of college, so you start texting each other. But suddenly, when it’s time for you to meet each other, you find out that it’s just a 60 year old man who’s lonely, bored, and a compulsive liar. But this time, it worked. And don’t ask me why. Sometimes, it just does. And you always hope that it does. Jake was always on the computer. He didn’t like going outside a ton, because going outside meant that he had to face the terrible world of adulthood and wearing pants, and really, no one wants to do that. He’d met Brad randomly, on a YouTube comments section. It was a sadder song, the kind that people listen to when they just want to feel things. He’d offhandedly commented on the music, and someone had replied, with a message that was strangely kind. “I feel that way too,” the comment said (strange, knowing the kinds of comments youtube had), “do you have any other music like this?” And so they’d kind of bounced music back and forth, and it was kind of exciting because they’d feel the same about certain things, and they got to discover music together, and it was strangely easy and anxiety free. One day, when Jake was flipping through recommendations, he’d stumbled on Brad’s actual channel, which included his face, and the upper half of his body. Brad did commentary on random things— this time it was about an indie video game released in 1994. Jake was infatuated instantly- not only because Brad’s beard was full, dirty blonde, and masculine, but because Brad was someone who wasn’t an idiot or a liar. He didn’t do things for the attention. He had a good head on his shoulders. And goodness, he had some good shoulders. And suddenly they were seeing each other. Texting at first, then video chatting. Then they were talking about life, coming over to each other’s houses, sharing the same sweaters. It never seemed this easy with other people he’d met. Brad was easy to talk to, and seemed to keep conversations going. Jake was quieter and less socially skilled, but had a lot to say when he opened up. For whatever reason, it was like they already knew each other, already wanted to find out more. Brad was older and had the money to move around, and wasn’t afraid of many things. So they got together one day, after a multitude of texts, and it felt pretty effortless. It helped that Brad was especially eager. When they first started seeing each other, he’d not stop texting. Before they were even close, it was clear that Brad wanted to initiate. And sometimes it was a little uncomfortable, because Jake had never dated anyone that seriously before (besides one girl he’d seen in High School for no reason except for the recognition). Brad was taller, 6’4”, well built, with a slightly greying head of hair that Jake would always ask about. He had nice shoulders, the kind you could put throw a hunted deer on, to take home to eat. They were wide and muscled, and always fit well into the XL T-Shirts that Brad would wear just about everywhere. He looked like a dad in a lot of ways, especially because he had the girthiness that only enters into the muscles with age. A moderate weightlifter, he made sure to work out all the parts of his body with equality. He loved his body, as he would tell Jake. He made sure to take care of it so that it looked good for other men. Jake was certainly shorter. Many would call him a gold star gay, because he looked so unsuspecting and everyone would invite him to events because he was just an easy gay person to have around. With surprising biceps that he got from being on the swim team, Jake was always just trying to be more than ordinary. He didn’t want to be the typical person, didn’t want to have a normally sized body, didn’t want to act like all other gays. It was hard though, because who else was he supposed to be? He wanted to be manly as hell, this huge man with a life. But instead, he was average, average, average. His dirty blonde hair and eyebrows got him a lot of looks from the girls, and some of the guys at school, but never the attention that he wanted. He’d always been drawn to the football players and swim guys, but they were all too immature or terrible to have decent relationships with. Once he thought he had a thing with another player on his water polo team, but it turned out the other guy was just drunk and touchy. He was too closeted and didn’t think Jake was valuable enough to come out for. So it was always back to the computer for Jake, trying to find something worthwhile, but getting nowhere with people he didn’t even care about. People online were just awful. They spent no time getting to know him and only wanted pics. “Nice jawline!” “Your so Hot” or “<3 <3” were the only kinds of conversation he got. It wasn’t even worth his time. Not to mention the people on the other end of those comments were always these creepy men that clogged up any hope of real interactions. When Brad showed up, everything changed. It was like there was finally someone he could talk to. Someone he could be there for. Someone who didn’t hang around just because the scruff on his face made him look so cute. It was because Brad really wanted Jake, even before they could see each other. When Jake thought of this, it really turned him on, in ways other things hadn’t before. The first thing they did when they got together was go to a gay bar. Just for kicks. Also, because Jake had never been to one before. It was a surreal experience, one that still didn’t make sense to Jake after he thought about it. “You ever go to a gay bar before Jake?” Brad had asked him in the car. “No, it’s kind of scary to go out into places like that,” Jake replied. “Why’s that?” “Well… because… I don’t know,” Jake started. “Naw I get what you mean,” Brad replied with a giggle, “gays are just about the most unpredictable thing you’ve ever seen.” As if to emphasize that, he grabbed Jake’s thigh. It surprised him. “Yeah! I—” Jake started. “Okay I’m gonna park the car around back, and you can get out and wait for me in front,” Brad continued, interrupting Jake casually. Jake was confused by this at first because all his attention was drawn to the human contact on his left leg, and Brad was talking like nothing strange was happening. But he nodded like it was just nothing out of the ordinary. They pulled up at the bar, and Brad shoo-ed Jake out of the car. Jake was on the darkened street now and awkwardly walked toward the place that they were trying to get into. It must have been around Eight o’ clock, so the street wasn’t well illuminated by anything but unnatural light. As he neared the bar, he immediately felt a bunch of eyes on him, like he was walking into the wrong classroom. It wasn’t a gentle kind of attention either. It was aggressive, almost thirsty. A couple standing out front, illuminated by the purple yellows of the neon looked directly at him together, and continued talking. The Bouncer immediately turned to face him. The line waiting to get into the bar glanced at him like he was kind of a challenge. Jake remembered why this was something he didn’t do. He got into the line, even though it was painful, in the vague hope that Brad would show up before he got into the building. But after an uncomfortable amount of time, he’d gotten to the front, and Brad still hadn’t showed up. “ID?” said the bouncer. “S-Sure,” Jake stammered. He was trying to play it cool, but really had no idea what that looked like here. He pulled out his wallet and took the card out of the display. He handed it to the bouncer. “So what’s this all about again? Trying to get with older men?” The bouncer said. This was so painful. Jake almost wanted to shut down completely. “Oh, uh,” he said, “I mean, that’s my ID.” There was almost no conviction in his voice. “Hey, it was a nice try, but you gotta do better than this,” the man said. He unhooked the rope that led the line into the bar. Jake could feel the eyes of everyone on him. This was so embarrassing. He looked like a child trying to cheat other adults. He looked around like someone would help him, but felt only the small smiles that the people in line were showing. He didn’t know what to do, so he froze up. Suddenly, Brad was there. “Hey bud, what’s going on here?” He half shouted. Jake looked up. “He handed me a fake so I got him out of here.” said the bouncer, addressing the man walking towards them. “You can’t be coming into bars if you’re not old enough.” “What?” Brad’s brow wrinkled. “This kid’s too honest to use a fake. If he were trying to get in with a fake, don’t you think he’d try a little harder?” The bouncer sighed. “Look,” said Brad, his face starting to make sharp movements, “this is a gay bar. Gays have had it rough enough. The kid’s 22, and I know, has the courage of a 17 year old, but we’ll pay the cover charge, which is like 10 each right? Just let us in.” Jake looked around. He was trying to dissociate from owning the trauma of the situation, but he’d realized that the cover was only 5$ that night. “Hm,” the bouncer looked at Brad, then back to Jake. “Are you his Dad or something?” With this, Brad grabbed the rope that had been unhooked, and with the other arm, grabbed Jake’s entire torso. He moved forward, clipped the rope back in, and pulled out a wallet. “‘Preciate it,” Brad said, as he handed a 20 to the bouncer. He didn’t seem to respond with resistance, so they kept walking forward. They made it through the door and onto the hellish disco in front of them. “Thanks,” Jake said weakly, looking back at the bouncer. “What!?” Brad replied, looking at Jake. They met eyes. “Did you just thank the bouncer?” Jake just chose not to reply. He looked kind of dazed. He’d thought it romantic, and scary, and embarrassing all at the same time and wasn’t sure which emotion to proceed forward with. In front of them was a lake of people jumping to a neon fuschia music beat. Things were essentially cloaked in darkness, save the glow in the dark paint splatters across the walls that strangely resembled other less appropriate substances. All around, people came and went in a sweaty, disorganized cacophony. The looks were less intense in here, and the biting coldness of the air conditioning felt kind of nice. It was almost like a different world entirely, one that wasn’t faced with so much social pressure. They started to walk over to the bar, and Jake found himself clinging to Brad without actually touching him. It was like he actually had a Dad today, to go with him places and make him feel less afraid. It was nice. Jake eased up a bit. Along the way, Jake met the eyes of a cute blonde guy who was skinnier than him. There was this strange burst of electricity, and then he broke eye contact. He’d noticed that the man was only wearing a thong, which really turned him off. Brad walked up to the bartender girl making drinks, and ordered something that sounded like a country and a randomly generated noun. It was hard to hear over the noise, and the words didn’t usually go together anyway, so Jake had a hard time recognizing what was being said. The girl nodded, cocked her head, and gave them a brief smile. “Do you ever wonder,” Brad asked, facing Jake “how many good, attractive people like you are just sitting at home, too afraid to come out and meet people?” . “Oh thank you,” said Jake. Brad had just complimented him, and it made him feel good inside. Then he realized he forgot to answer the question. “Oh, yeah, I know what you mean. Like, there are probably so many amazing people out there, but it’s just so hard to meet them.” “Right,” Brad replied, looking around, then back at Jake. “I guess the problem is that there are so many brave idiots who really should just stay home and do some thinking.” The bartender came back with their glasses. “Been a while since someone here’s winked at me,” she said to Brad. “Are you his dad?” “Oh honey,” Brad said with a melodic gruffness that surprised both the girl and Jake, “I’m gay. Just think you’re cute is all. The bandana on the arm is such a touch.” The girl beamed with enjoyment. She was incredibly pretty, and had a soft face that was somehow angular. “Well thank you” she almost squealed, “that’s so sweet. Gay men are so wonderful. You know they’re being honest because they don’t use compliments to try and get inside your pants.” She handed them their drinks. Brad started a little bit too quickly, and Jake watched as his Adam’s apple moved to compensate for what was going down. It scared him and intrigued him. He looked at his own drink and took a sip. It tasted like vodka and did not go down easily. Again Jake felt like a tiny, tiny boy, out of place. “How’s it taste?” the girl asked Jake, a little too pointedly. She’d noticed. “I… like sweet drinks,” Jake replied with a smile and a cough. He felt comfortable around her, like he did all women, but was finding it harder and harder to sound cool. She laughed. “I’m Lacy. You two are kinda likable. I’ll keep you in my mind,” she said to them. “Lacy, I’m Brad.” “I’m Jake. This place is kinda nuts isn’t it?” “Yes,” said Lacy with a nod. “But it’s fun. I get to be a mom to these sisters. Don’t have to dress like a nun. Men won’t try to grope me except sometimes. And even then they’re just lonely. I can work with that.” Lacy nodded and looked at the group of other men clumped around the bar. It was growing harder and harder to have a conversation. “Well see yuh!” Lacy gave them a small wave and then grabbed a rag to wipe up a spilled drink. She picked up the cup and placed it on the counter in front of an older man who looked severely drunk. She slapped him on the cheek gently and told him to pay attention to his containers. He nodded, stupidly. “Wanna move around a little?” Brad said. Jake met eyes with Brad again, and felt a little flutter in his chest. Brad was just....he was just… incredibly sexy. Jake didn’t really have the words to contradict or express a desire. He just nodded. He wanted to be next to Brad. So they started walking. They headed towards where everyone was dancing, and Brad got sidetracked looking at a Go-go dancer. Jake wasn’t paying attention, and was drawn in to the mass of excited bodies. It was interesting. He started to smile and join in. It felt good, to be in a comfortable place, moving to a beat in unison with a bunch of other strangers. They weren’t aggressive or mean. They just smiled and danced along. After a couple minutes, Jake opened his eyes and saw the guy from before standing still with a glass of wine, staring straight at him. It was unnerving, but he continued to dance. He moved into some people’s bodies to get away from the gaze, but he knew it was following him. Seconds later, he felt a touch on his back. He turned around to the same guy from before. “Hey babyyyy!!! What’s up?!” the voice said loudly. “I don’t know! Just dancing!” It was a dumb answer, but it was true. “That’s hot,” said the other guy. The statement made Jake uncomfortable, but he wasn’t sure what to say. Jake was half moving, half conversing with this other person for a couple of seconds before he spoke again. “So where are you from,” the guy asked. He moved in strangely close. “I’m from around here, yeah,” said Jake. What was going on here? He spotted Brad, but Brad wasn’t looking at him. Jake was beginning to feel awkward. “Oh really me too! What High school did you go to?” The man was persistent, and Jake was clearly not interested. “Uh, Carp High,” he said, not really sure if he should have lied there or not. “Oh my god that’s where my sister went!” the person replied with a strange sense of eagerness. Why was that exciting? It was just high school. “Yeah, well that’s great!” Jake was trying to be as polite as he could. “Did she like it?” “No, she kinda hated it. Her name’s Angelina. Did you know an Angelina?” “No I didn’t.” There was a long and uncomfortable pause. “Mmm, I like your face,” said the man. Jake was trying his best not to cringe inside. And then it got really weird. The man leaned in and got close. And put his hand on Jake’s crotch. Jake froze up and blinked. He couldn’t believe what was happening. The music proceeded as usual and no one seemed to notice. Brad didn’t even step in. “So…” said the guy, noting the lack of response, “do you like sucking dick or anything?” Jake could not believe the nerve of this person, how oblivious of the right things to say in conversation he was. He remembered what Brad had said about idiots being the bold ones. Jake didn’t want to be here. But he was having a panic attack. Brad walked by and stood watching. Jake broke away and walked over. The person followed. “Hey Brad, can we go somewhere else?” Jake said. “OH, is this your DADDY??!” said the man, “He’s so cuuuute. And sooooo masculine. Hashtag, masc for masc!” Brad raised his eyebrows. Jake was shaking. “You know, masculinity is like… toxic, just so that you’re aware. Just embrace your inner queen, okay sister? Don’t try to be masculine when you know inside you’re just as gay as the rest of us!” The man teased. Jake put his face really close to Brad. ”Besides, the guys you find on Grindr don’t actually want to be your friends.” “Hey Brad,” Jake said, in a normal voice, but one that could be heard over the volume. “Yes, Jake?” “He uh, he grabbed me. I feel weird.” At this Brad’s face turned to stone. He found Jake’s hands and started to squeeze them. The man was still there, and he’d got some other guys to sniff around as well. What happened next still felt like a dream to Jake, though the whole night was hazy. Brad started to breathe, faster and faster, as he looked at the person behind Jake. Jake stared absently at Brad, and then started to notice that ever so slowly, his hands were starting to move. Not move, just expand over his. Like they were growing. Jake thought Brad was somehow looking to hug him, but as he looked upward in the dim neon lights, he realized Brad was getting bigger somehow. It was subtle, and with all the movement happening, it wasn’t super obvious, but Jake noticed because he was starting to feel more skin and more hand on him. There was a guttural rumbling he could hear through their bodily contact, and immediately, Brad broke contact and went up to the man. He was immediately encircled by two others, though they didn’t seem to notice the slow growing Brad kept up. Brad spoke slowly, with intention, but the other guy made no expressions that he was afraid or sorry. Then one of the men took out a cloth and put it over Brad’s face. Jake’s eye’s widened. All he could remember happening next was calling the police because there was too much to think about. He’d never done it before, but when the men noticed he was on the phone, they scattered, and Brad sunk to the floor.
  11. londonboy

    m/m More Than Just a Big Body

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

    m/m Bigger is Still Better - Parts 1-3

    (Started this as a short caption story, but it grew into something else - hence, the picture) “I’m really sorry about the bed.” “No . . . no, it’s okay. I’ll buy a new one tomorrow.” “I’m just too big.” “Hey now, you stop that kind of talk right now. You are not too big. Trey, I mean it. Look at me. Look at me. Too big does not exist. You wanted to be big. I wanted you this way. I still want you this way. I will always want you this way.” “I’m sorry . . . “ “Quit saying that.” “ . . . it’s just that I’m still getting used to my size . . . and the strength.” “It’s okay. It’s going to take a while. Touch the roof for me, again.” Trey bent his arm at a right angle and placed his palm against the ceiling. Sam emitted a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and moan. The smaller man still couldn’t believe his eyes. His lover of two years was now a nine foot giant. It was good they had high ceilings in the apartment, but Trey could still palm the thing without even extending his arm close to all the way. Sam reached up and his fingers didn’t come near the ceiling, even when he went up on his toes. Trey had to duck through doorways and there were some low beams around the place that had proven to be troublesome. Sam loved his man’s new height. It was so hot. “I didn’t even realize I was ripping the mattress and box springs apart. I thought I was still inside of you.” “Well, you’ve always become like a madman during sex. You were just too turned on to notice. Relax. I’ll get us a better bed tomorrow. Your feet hung off the thing, anyway. I mean, I’m not sure I’ll be able to find a bed you can fit in – but maybe there’s a big man’s bedding store like they have for clothing. Just kidding. We might have to get one custom made. I probably should get a new sofa and some chairs that can hold you, too.” “I am kind of getting tired of sitting on the floor.” “I bet you are. Man, look at that mattress in there. You ripped that thing completely in two with that strong rod of yours. The sight of all that destruction turns me on.” “It embarrasses me.” Sam reached up and caressed Trey’s left pec, making sure to tease the now substantially larger nipple that poked out with excitement. Both men looked at each other. There was a love between them that needed no explanation – no words. “I hope you’re not regretting becoming huge.” “Hell no. I just wish I’d hurry up and get used to it.” “That time will come, big guy. It’ll come. Right now, let’s see if we can rustle up enough pillows, couch and chair cushions, and other stuff to make a temporary bed in the living room. It’ll be like camping out.” Sam couldn’t lie; it would have devastated him if Trey had said he didn’t want to be huge. He looked at his lover’s feet as they traveled down the hall. Damn, those things were big. Sam felt his crotch start to stir looking at that specific part of Trey’s body. Sam didn’t know how feet could be such a turn on, but Trey’s big puppies just did it for him in a way that was two difficult to explain. But then there were his big hands, too, which were even more of a turn on. Soon, they had enough different materials to make a decent sized sleeping area on the floor. Trey’s big body was nice and comfortable with his head propped up by many pillows, but Sam was the happiest lying completely on Trey, playing with his furry chest as they talked. “When do I get to go outside the apartment, Sam?” “I’m not so sure the world is ready for a nine foot giant, yet. I had to perform CPR on the UPS man yesterday because you forgot and answered the door.” “Yeah, but he was cute so you really didn’t mind.” “The paramedics were even cuter and they just kept laughing when the UPS man came to and just kept pointing at me and saying, ‘Giant, giant, giant.’ It’s a good thing we look so much alike. He actually thought I had been nine foot tall at one point.” “It’s because we have matching beards.” “That’s about all that matches between us.” Trey held up his hand, knowing Sam would love a moment of comparing. It’s one of the things that turned him on the most since the growth. Sam brought his manly hand up against the giant’s. A slight moan escaped Sam’s mouth at the immediate sight of the size difference. It was almost like a father and his toddler comparing hands. Both men gazed at Trey’s long thick fingers dwarfing those of Sam. “I don’t know why, but I love feeling small. Seeing that giant mitt huge against my tiny thing bones me up in a way I’ve never even fantasized about before. I can’t believe having a giant boyfriend turns me on so much.” “Towering over you and outsizing you in every way does the same thing to me.” They interlocked their fingers and that emphasized the size difference even more. Trey squeezed his hand, causing a slight pain to shoot through the smaller hand he held. Sam whacked the big man’s chest with his open palm, hard – but it was clear Trey barely felt it. The bigger man smiled, and something in his white skivvies started to awaken. The fact that his boyfriend had thought about clothes in advance of the growth was wonderful and pleased Trey. Sam had gotten custom items made for the big man. Everything was still a little tight, but Trey had the feeling that had been part of his lover’s plan. “I like it best when we put our cocks against each other. That size difference is really hot.” “That’ because yours is now bigger than my arm.” “Yeah, there’s that, but I like how yours twitches with excitement against mine. It’s like the thing is nervous being around something so much bigger. And I used to think you had huge balls, but now they look like peanuts next to my coconuts.” “If your intention is to get me hard with this conversation – your plan is working.” “I thought it might.” “Your sex drive has grown to match your new size.” “And that, my little lover, is an area where we are still evenly matched.” It was true. Sam was not ‘smaller’ when it came to a need for sex or when it came to stamina. Trey was the giant, but Sam’s libido was that of a giant, too. It had not always been that way. Trey’s growth had clearly triggered something in his lover. Upon deep retrospection, Sam realized that since childhood he had fantasized about giants. He, himself, had never wanted to be huge, but he had always dreamed about having a giant. As a kid, he would not have even entertained the idea that the giant would be his lover, but as an adult, with his dream lying dormant for many years in his head, things changed. One night, after the third round of the kind of hot sex that makes you need to drink a gallon of water, he and Trey had been lying on the bed intertwined to the point where you have no idea where your body starts or his ends. Out of the blue, Sam asked Trey to share with him something he’d never told anyone else – one of his deepest secrets. Trey hadn’t hesitated and replied, “I’ve always wanted to be a giant.” Sam had immediately sat up, looking totally astonished, and quickly confessed his desire to have a giant as a kid, but now he merely wanted to have one as a lover. The conversation about this shared fantasy had led to round four of even hotter sex. Platform shoes had been bought two days later to make Trey significantly taller. It took him a while to get used to them, but they did fuel shared fantasies for a while. Roleplaying with Sam on his knees became a weekly thing, and deep conversations about why gianthood turned both of them on in certain ways led to more rounds of wild sex than alcohol could have caused. Soon, they both didn’t refer to their lust for hugeness as a fetish. It was as natural between them as deciding between salmon or chicken for dinner. Movies were downloaded, size-comparison porn was bought, and the two men painstakingly taught themselves how to morph guys into giants in pictures to offer as gifts to each other. Trey started calling Sam his ‘little lover’ and, in return, Trey was called ‘my giant.’ Soon, the two men lived as if a true change had already happened. They had come to live as if Trey was a giant and it seemed so comfortable and natural. A chance perusal of an antique cookbook in Italy, while on holiday, changed their lives forever. Sam knew a little Italian and was glancing through the book while Trey got an espresso next door. As he flipped through the pages a recipe title caught his eye. It said, ‘Funghi per Giganti,’ which he thought translated into ‘Mushrooms for Giants’ instead of ‘Giant Mushrooms,’ but he wasn’t sure. He asked the owner of the shop to translate the title for him and come to find out, Sam was right. The book, although outrageously expensive since it was said to be one of only a handful of copies that had been printed from recipes collected from gypsies hundreds of years ago, was bought on the spot. A four-day stop in Siena turned into two weeks as a mad search for the mushrooms described in the recipe took place. Just when the two men had decided to give up an old woman had approached them outside of their hotel and asked, in some form of Italian Sam had never heard before, if they sought a special mushroom. Without hesitation, they had both said yes and then foolishly climbed into the back of a very old truck driven by a mysterious bearded hulk who kept looking at the old woman sitting beside him with an angry stare. Part Two Just when both men had decided they had been kidnapped or were being taken out into the countryside to be murdered, they had pulled up to an ancient villa on a high hill in the middle of nowhere. When the big fella got out of the car, Sam and Trey had been shocked to see that it was actually a young man of about twenty. He must have stood close to seven feet tall and was built like a strongman competitor. American crotches hardened on the spot, which did not go unnoticed by the hulking young man. A big smile immediately broke out across his face and he spoke to what was his, come to find out, grandmother. The huge guy spoke quickly, but Sam got a few words – deciphering ‘these men like dick and muscles.” Anticipating the information would get them beaten up or killed, both men were shocked when the grandmother clapped her hands together many times and thanked the woods fairies (Sam wasn’t sure about this) for her and her grandson’s good luck. Antonio, as they would learn his name later, came around behind them, grabbed them both at the waist, lifted them in the air, and danced around the yard like a school kid being released from school for summer holiday. Sam and Trey quickly noticed that holding them both off the ground gave the young giant no strain. This only increased the excitement at their crotches. They also noticed that Antonio’s enormous member was snaking down his thigh – insanely thick and huge. A minute later both men were carried into the quintessential old Italian kitchen with enough jars of herbs and other assorted things to immediately reveal that grandmother was some sort of witch. Antonio dropped both men back on the floor and slapped their backs hard enough to send them flying a few steps forward. The giant then took off his flannel shirt revealing the kind of thick, muscled, hairy body that Trey and Sam would always morph as gifts for each other. Sam immediately asked for water. The way the grandmother took all of this in stride made it clear that Antonio rarely wore a shirt around the house. Come to find out, later, he rarely wore pants, either, preferring to waddle around the place in only his underwear. This seemed to please the elder woman. Sam soon had the cookbook displayed on the big table in the center of the room. The grandmother took out some reading glasses and treated the book as if it had been a family heirloom. When she pointed to one of the three names listed near the front of the book and explained that this had been her relative, the two men realized it was an ancestral treasure. Sam did not hesitate for even one second. He told her the book was hers. A gift returned to its true owner. He glanced at his lover and Trey’s eyes made it clear he thought this was the right thing to do, as well. You would have thought Sam had just given the woman a second life. Tears welled up in her eyes. She brought her hands to her mouth and moved her head from side to side in disbelief. Antonio, again, came over and grabbed both men in a big-armed bear hug, clasping his hands together as he lifted. He squeezed so tight that both Americans feared they were going to pop a thick load or break some bones – whichever one came first. The grandmother started saying ‘grazie’ over and over as tears streamed down her face. She soon collected herself, climbed on top of her chair so she’d be even, and gave both Trey and Sam kisses on both cheeks. Antonio did the same thing and the two foreigners got a little kick to their hard-ons from the dense manly fur across the big man’s face. By this point, grandmother had returned to her book and had turned to the original page that had caught Sam’s eye. She instructed her grandson to release the guests and Antonio, again, dropped them like potato sacks to the ground. The big man pulled out two big chairs – easily lifting them – from the table, pointing for the two men to sit down. He then poured four glasses of wine that was a deep, deep red. The grandmother touched Sam’s arm and began to speak, slowly so he’d understand. It seemed that this had been a special recipe – known only to her ancestors. It had made it into the book only because the mushroom had totally disappeared. It had been generations since anyone had seen one, so some great, great, great (many more greats) aunt had put it in the book so it would never be lost. It was the hope that one day the mushroom would be found again. And then she said something that made Sam’s heart jump. She told him she had found one mushroom many years ago. He quickly translated for his lover, who could not hide his enthusiasm. Sam asked if she thought she could find another one and was instantly disappointed when she said she did not think one existed. She said that the tradition was this particular mushroom only grew in one spot in the country of Italy once every two hundred years. The woman sensed the intense disappointment in both men as Sam translated. She quickly revealed to Sam she still had most of the mushroom she had found all those years ago. Sam had never known his cock could harden so quickly. It would have clearly banged against the underside of the table if his jeans had not kept it contained. The same reaction happened to his lover as Sam excitedly told Trey what the woman had said. She went on to explain that she had given part of the mushroom to her then fourteen year old grandson. Both men turned to look at a beaming Antonio, now on his third big glass of wine and bouncing his pecs wildly. Come to find out, a wimpy little pre-pubescent Antonio had shot up to over 215 centimeters (over seven feet tall!) and had sprouted thick hair like some hirsute blacksmith from the old country. This part of the story made Antonio flex one of his arms to the delight of the rest of the room. The woman said she had more than half of the mushroom left and she would like to give the majority of it to Sam and Trey. She wanted to give it to them because they had so unselfishly given the recipe book back to her. She seemed to know they had paid a lot of money for it. She then offered a warning and asked for a huge favor in return. It seemed Antonio had not grown taller than he was because he had been so young when he ate the mushroom. He had been lifting the bull in the pin for the last few years and that’s why he was so muscular. The woman said that a grown man taking the mushroom would grow much taller and bigger than Antonio. This was news that only excited Sam and Trey more. The older woman was also apologetic because she did not think she would give them enough to help both of them become giants. Sam smiled and explained that he wanted to remain his present size and that it was Trey who wanted to grow. For some unknown reason Sam then added that he had always wanted to have a giant as a friend. ‘Or a lover,’ added the woman, which made Sam turn red, as he nodded his head. The woman then added, ‘we love what we love,” and that made it clear she understood. She then continued that they would have to wait until they got home before Trey could eat the mushroom. She added that he would feel as if he were dying for about three days and that they were not to panic. If they were patient and stuck with the plan he would start to grow on the third day and it would stop about forty-eight hours later. Antonio added that it was very hard to adjust at first and that Trey would break things easily, bang his head a lot, and probably squeeze Sam way too hard. The grandmother nodded her head and grabbed her sides, clearly remembering intense hugs from her enormous fourteen-year old grandson. Sam then asked the woman about the favor she had mentioned. She looked at her grandson and he downed a fourth glass of wine quickly. It seemed that Antonio’s growth had freaked out the entire village and even all the surrounding villages all those years ago. He had remained friendless and wasn’t allowed to venture far off of their farm. It also seemed that Antonio was a virgin. Grandmother was hoping the two men would deflower the boy. Sam was about to start explaining how Trey and he were in a happy monogamous relationship, but Trey’s voice had said, ‘yes,’ loudly and quickly. When Sam looked at his lover, Trey mouthed the word, ‘look at him – he’s gorgeous and big,’ and then added, ‘and I want to be your giant.’ That was that. After Antonio downed eight more glasses of wine and the two foreigners had each polished off four, the three men were out in Antonio’s bedroom slash gym at the top of the barn. Excitement oozed out of the behemoth twenty-year old like an infectious aura filling the entire room. Sam and Trey had never even entertained the idea of a three-way – they were totally happy with each other – but the big man’s bulging muscles, the strong wine, and the fact that Antonio was the largest man they had both ever met – made them both very exited about what was to come. Part Three Antonio, clearly very comfortable with his own body, pushed down his pants and underwear in one swift motion, stepping out of them quickly. Trey instantly understood the term ‘log-like’ penis and even gave a little gasp. This made Antonio smile. It also made Antonio’s log bob up and down. The big man asked if it would be okay for him to lift weights for a while to calm himself down. Two loud yeses shot quickly back from the foreigners since the thought of watching him exercise was way too exciting. The giant went over and picked up two insanely weighted dumbbells from the ground and started curling them up and down one at a time, both of his huge biceps ballooning into hard watermelons immediately. He walked over to stand in front of his two guests and in broken English said, ‘excuse me, it would please to see naked, you two.’ Both Trey and Sam had their clothes off in a flash. Antonio’s cock shot fully hard and went straight up against his bulging stomach when he took in the bodies of the two men. ‘Smallness of you I like,’ he said smiling, and continuing to make his guns bulge bigger as he lifted. Now, all three dicks in the room were standing straight up. Antonio finally put the weights down, now that there was a light sheen of manly sweat all over his arms and chest. After standing back up to his incredible height he reached out and grabbed the two cocks in front of him in each hand. He pulled roughly at first, but then seemed to remember that he had to be gentle with other men. He spat in each hand one at a time and then returned to firmly yanking up and down on them. ‘Penis mine is big very beside you,’ he said, having no idea how that would excite the other two. Trey turned to his lover, who also had to go onto his toes when Antonio tugged upward, and motioned toward the log below with his eyes. Both men reached out and their hands trembled a little as they unsuccessfully tried to take the giant thing in their small grips. A shudder went through both men as they took in the hugeness and felt the hardness of Antonio’s cock. ‘I am big very, no?’ asked Antonio. ‘Yes’ and ‘very’ immediately were the words that shot back. Trey was now playing with the grapefruit sized balls beneath the erect log and was beginning to worry terribly about trying to accept Antonio’s size in his mouth or, worse yet, his ass. Sam, however, couldn’t wait to sit on all of this giant’s manliness, knowing full well it would be hard to take it all, but he would do his best to try. He looked at his lover and asked, ‘can I suck him?’ Trey answered, ‘that would be so hot to watch.’ In terrible Italian Sam misspoke, telling Antonio he’d like to ‘eat his tree.’ Antonio laughed loud and hard, fully understanding what the smaller man actually meant. The giant then placed a big hand on Sam’s shoulder and pushed down. Sam’s knees were forced to buckle and Antonio held tightly as he lowered the other man’s body to the ground. Meanwhile, Trey had to use much more strength than he anticipated to get the giant man’s cock pushed down for his lover’s mouth. He let go of the enormous rod as soon as Sam grabbed it with both hands. Trey decided to latch both of his hands hard onto Antonio’s nipples, which, in turn, made the big man squeeze the cock remaining in his hand with too much strength and that made the little guy let out a loud yelp. ‘Scuzi,’ Antonio quickly said and lessened his strongman grip, adding, ‘nipples like squeeze.’ Suddenly, it was Antonio’s turn to let out a loud yelp as Sam’s mouth consumed the entire head of the big man’s cock in one gulp. ‘Scuzi,’ Trey said, laughing, ‘cock big like him,’ referring to the man kneeling beside them. This would have made Antonio roar with laughter, but he was too focused on getting his first blowjob and major nipple work over. The different levels of joy that shot in waves across the big man’s face made it clear to Trey that the payback was going to equal the significance of the mushrooms. Trey started to imagine what it was going to be like being bigger than the huge man in front of him. Would he be over eight feet tall or more? Would he be as furry as the mountain of a man now moaning loud enough that grandmother could not help but hear. Trey looked down and was shocked to see the nose of his lover buried deep in the thick pubic fur surrounding the base of the giant cock. He knew Sam was good, but he didn’t realize just how good. From the sounds being emitted from the giant, the fact that his eyes had rolled back into his head, and because his hand now pumped Trey’s cock with frantic speed it was clear the giant was about to explode like a rocket ship blasting off. His hairy balls were now deep purple and the size of golf balls – shriveled up as the tsunami gathered force. Trey was pretty sure people for miles around ran for cover when they heard the roar that Antonio bellowed as he blasted giant sized globs of hot cum into his lover’s mouth. A twenty-year old behemoth getting sucked off for the first time had to be one of the hottest things Trey had ever seen. Chaos ruled supreme in the next few seconds. Trey heard Sam gagging a little as he tried desperately to swallow everything the young giant was offering up. Antonio shot his arms up into a double biceps pose, tensing the things to hell as his crotch bucked back and forth. Trey squeezed the big nips even harder to give the stud more pleasure. And Antonio continued to sound like a squadron of fighter planes roaring past above their heads. Then the noise stopped, big muscled arms dropped to the giant’s side, and his crotch stopped gushing like a fireman’s hose. Only Antonio’s heaving chest moved up and down as the man slowly came back to earth. Trey couldn’t help himself and brought his mouth down to the giant’s big protruding nipple and sucked like a baby. Antonio cooed, but it actually sounded like a lion on the prowl. And Sam, having had his stomach expanded by buckets of cum, stood to kiss his lover, smiling the entire time. Trey tasted the big kid’s sweet juice on his lover’s lips and in his still piping hot mouth. The two men pulled their faces back and looked at each other lovingly. They were happy they had pleased the giant so. ‘Scuzi,’ came the now familiar deep voice, ‘ass now give to you.’ At first neither man understood what the big man meant, but then he dropped to the big mattress lying on the floor nearby and put his ass into the air, looking directly at Trey. Both foreigners looked at the big muscular bubble butt staring up at them and thought this must be what heaven was like. ‘You, first for me’ Antonio said to Trey and then to Sam he added, ‘suck now you.’ Trey looked at his lover and said, ‘it’s like we’re in a really, really good porn movie with the hottest stud around.’ Neither man wanted to keep the giant waiting. Within mere minutes, the big man was being invaded expertly from both ends. As he received an earnest first attempt at a blowjob, Sam watched his boyfriend plow the giant’s ass like a pro. One of the main reasons the blowjob wasn’t stellar was surely because Antonio found it hard to focus on anything other than the Grade A job Trey was doing on his ass. The grunts coming out of the big man on his hands and knees surely were scaring away any wild animals within a mile radius of the barn. Sam heard the bull getting worked up out in the pen, clearly jealous of the treatment the big man was getting. Meanwhile, Trey had to work overtime, because the muscled ass of Antonio was not only strong and seemingly firmer than stone, but the big guy was tighter than anything Trey had encountered before. Trey now understood greatly the allure of a virgin ass. The two men caught each other’s eye and Sam winked at his lover. This made Trey pound harder, which, in turn, made Antonio moan louder . . . and suck harder. Sam grabbed the giant’s ears and was amazed by their size and how they made his hands feel smaller. He pulled on the things and at the same time slammed his rod deeper into Antonio’s throat, causing the moans to sound more like the staccato blare of a sixteen wheeler’s horn. Sam encouraged his lover even more by mouthing the words, ‘I love you.’ Trey started shoving his cock into Antonio with so much force that sweat started to pour down the face of the smaller man. To be twenty and almost twice the size of a normal man made Antonio almost superhuman when it came to orgasms. The steady plowing of his mouth and the hot plowing of his ass finally became too much and the young stud let out a loud muffled moan, grabbed Sam by the hips, and then went straight up on his knees. Sam went into the air – his cock still firmly in Antonio’s mouth – and his feet dangled in the air. Antonio, simultaneously, squeezed his butt cheeks even tighter and smashed Trey’s cock in his shaft. Antonio immediately shot his load across the big mattress, from being rammed so expertly by Trey. Sam shot his load down Antonio’s throat because being lifted into the air so easily was such a turn on. Trey dumped his massive load into Antonio’s ass simply because the big man’s butt squeezed it out of him. The joy of multiple orgasms being lived out in moaned harmony. Again, Antonio’s orgasm was full and long. The other two were already done and lying on the mattress when the giant finally stopped sending cum torpedoes into the air. The big man fell on top of the other two, spent and very, very happy. Even though it was a little hard to breathe, Trey and Sam loved having the huge Antonio covering them. All three men fell fast asleep, Antonio snoring like a steam train. Sam woke an hour later to the incredible feeling of a strong tongue working its way back and forth in his butthole. Antonio had his face buried in Sam’s ass and was exploring like a pro. Trey was sound asleep near the edge of the mattress. Soon, the big man stopped his assault and crawled back on top of Sam, pressing the smaller man hard into the mattress. Antonio’s mouth was near Sam’s ear and he asked, “Fuck you, yes?’ The only sound sweeter than those words was when his lover said something to him. Sam kept getting excited about how huge Antonio was, but then he’d think about how much bigger Trey was going to be and that would get him turned on much more. Soon, he would have his own giant. This big young man was incredible and thrilled Sam to no end, but having Trey be gigantic was what would make him the happiest. The smaller man squeezed his ass cheeks around Antonio’s resting cock lodged between them as an answer. Antonio understood completely. He raised his hip and pressed the tip of his monstrous member against Sam’s clenched hole. Any defense that Sam might have imagined giving would have been futile. Antonio’s dick was like a battering ram plowing through wet paper. Antonio had clearly studied what Trey had done earlier, for his plowing started slow, steady, and un-fucking-believably pleasurable. The momentum started picking up and, somehow, Sam’s ass opened up for the invasion. Soon, the giant stud was shoving and pulling his rod so hard that the entire barn was rocking back and forth. That, plus the loud moans coming from both men woke Trey up and he lay there, smiling, as he watched the show. Antonio was such a horny young fellow that there was no way he could last a long time before exploding, even if it was going to be his third orgasm in such a short amount of time. Quickly, there came a giant thrust of his crotch and he held it firmly, his enormous rod buried deep inside Sam. He glistened with sweat and all of his muscles were tensed and huge. This turned out to be his biggest cum release so far. It was clear that Antonio was going to be a first-rate top when it came to sex. He rammed his dick in even more as he shot major amounts of his juice into Sam’s ass. Sam had already begun to think about how uncomfortable the long plane ride to the States was going to be after this intense plowing. He also loved every second of it. All he could concentrate on, though, was the fact that his Trey was going to be even bigger. That thought continued to excite him to no end. Big Antonio flopped onto Sam hard when he had finished ejaculating. His huge sweaty body was breathing heavily and it felt like a house had fallen on top of the smaller man. ‘Kiss, you two,’ Antonio said and it almost sounded like an order. Both of the other men were a little turned on from the idea of the giant twenty-year old bossing them around. The young man raised his body up onto his arms and knees, allowing Trey to slide in under him. Sam turned to face his lover. They wrapped their arms around each other under the watchful giant and began to kiss passionately. It was clear from Antonio’s deep growls of pleasure that the big man was enjoying the show. He was intently watching the two men, as if he wanted to learn how to kiss from them. Soon, he brought his face down and started nudging his thick luscious lips into the kiss – Sam and Trey pulling back a little to let him in. The big man’s thick beard made his two guests’ bodies tremble with pleasure. Antonio was definitely a quick learner. He began to kiss both men one at a time, expertly ravaging their mouths with his strong tongue. Of course this part of the giant would dominate others, as well. Soon, the heat between the three was back to a boiling point and no one could tell who was leading and who was following or who was kissing whom. It didn’t matter, though; the three men were so in sync it just felt perfect . . . and hot. The heavy kissing led to another intense round of sex, this time with Trey laying on Antonio’s big back and plowing his ass while the giant enjoyed another round of sinking his huge tool in Sam’s butt. Riding the massive back as the guy fucked like a pro was a special turn on for Trey and he ended up dumping another major load into Antonio. Sam was now completely sure the soreness in his ass would be a problem on the flight home. Two hours later, after having only put on his underwear, Antonio had his big arms around the necks of both guests as he guided them back into the kitchen. He’d pull one of the men’s faces to his and kiss him hard while his other arm pulled the second guy to the big nipple nearest him. Antonio would then switch and give each man the pleasure of what he had been missing. This continued for a while right there smack in front of grandmother, who seemed to enjoy watching. As suspected, it was clear that when no one besides them was at the house, Antonio went around in just his briefs. His big pole pressed the fabric out, remaining stone hard from the rough handling of the two men. Antonio confessed to his grandmother that the sex had been much more pleasurable than he had ever dreamed and that he was already getting sad that his two new friends would be leaving. ‘No go,’ the big man kept saying to Trey and Sam, as he would continue to kiss them hard. In Italian, Sam promised that they would return for a visit very soon, and then added that Trey would then be bigger than Antonio. This seemed to both excite and calm the giant who had big tears welling up in his eyes. The grandmother gave Sam a package, telling him to guard it with his life. She also handed the man a vial of greenish liquid and suggested that Sam drink this when Trey ate the mushroom. It was a potion that would make Sam grow fur as thick as his boyfriend was going to when he became a giant. She also added it would help him be able to accommodate Trey’s appendage after the growth. For some reason, this conversation embarrassed Sam, but he was happy to have the liquid. Soon, a now fully dressed Antonio was driving the two men back to their hotel, sometimes sobbing like a baby, but also making sure to play with both men’s crotches the entire way. It was like the big guy wanted to memorize what Trey and Sam looked and felt like so he could remember until they returned. At the hotel there were more tears, much kissing, and even more lifting of each foreigner into the air for hugs. The two smaller men immediately missed the hulking figure after he crammed himself back into the cab of the truck and drove away. He had been such a huge presence in their lives for the last few hours. However, all attention quickly moved to the box held firmly in Sam’s hands. The men decided they could not wait the two more days until their flight home. Trey packed while Sam got on the computer and paid the extremely high change fee to get them on a flight home that night. They figured the sooner Trey could eat the mushroom the better.
  13. picmeup

    m/m The Hiker

    I am a pretty big guy under normal circumstances. At 6’1 230lbs most people would say I am above average. I don’t know why, but I have always wanted to be the smaller one in a relationship. I guess it because I want to be the one taken care of, not the one in charge. Don’t get me wrong, I like my size at times. I am not a feminine man, I just know that I a man that has needs that want to be met. My dream man would be 6’5 or taller and outweigh me by at least 50 lbs. He must be masculine, not overweight, but muscular and strong as an ox. I would love to be in a bar with my man and people turn and stare at him not just because of his size, but because they notice that I am his and his alone. This is all fantasy, this would never happen in real life. Who am I kidding? What muscle giant is going to want an average guy like me? But then I met Bryson and my fantasy became reality. I live in Colorado, so I love to go hiking in the mountains. Not an overnight hike, just an afternoon stroll looking at the beauty of nature. I am not a photographer, but I love taking pictures of the scenery. I don’t know what it is, but there is something about the solitude and the fresh air that gives me joy. So here I am strolling along a narrow trail. I pass a few other hikers along the way. I give them a short greeting and allow them to pass. I am not going to lie, I am always cruising the merchandise, still hoping for that chance to at least see my dream man, even if being with him isn’t reality. I see this guy walking towards me with a day pack on his back and is shirtless. I can see he is a bigger guy far away off, as he gets closer, I get to see how big he really is. I am trying not to stare, but it is hard not to. This guy has to be at least 6’8 and solid as a rock. I move over to let him pass, and he does the same to let me pass. He gives this smile that radiates with confidence. As I walk past him, I look up and our eyes meet. His eyes are an emerald green. They almost didn’t look like they could be his real color, but they were so masculine and beautiful. I tried to say thank you, but the words could not form in my mouth. My mouth was dry and it would not shut. He looks down at me, and says “have a good day, enjoy the view.” I wanted to say “I already am” but I just walked past not saying a word. As I walk away, I look back one more time just to get another look at him. I was not expecting him to be looking back at me, but he was. He gave me a great big smile and waved goodbye. I walked about 10 steps, not paying attention to where I was going and I slipped off the narrow trail and started sliding down the slope of the hill. He saw what happened and started running towards me. I was holding onto a rock so I didn’t slide down any farther. When he got to me, he reached down and told me to grab onto his hand. I was afraid to let go of the rock, but the confidence in his voice made me feel more at ease. “you can trust me, I will not let you fall”. I grabbed for his hand and he grabbed my wrist. And there was a connection that I have never felt before. Before I knew what had happened, I was hoisted up to safety. This giant man, lifted my body with one arm like I weighed nothing at all. After knew I was safe, then the emotions started flowing. I was shaking and scared. I started crying. I felt like such a baby. Here I am a grown man crying in front of this giant like a baby. I was expecting my emotions to make him feel uncomfortable, but his response was exact opposite. We were both still on the ground and he wrapped his arms around me and set me down on his lap. “it’s ok, you are safe now”. He let took that back of my head and lead me to his chest. It was so intimate. I felt like I have known this man my entire life, and I didn’t even know his name. I just cried in his arms for a few more minutes. Then I regained my composure. Then something else happened. After I calmed down, I felt a sharp pain in my leg. I don’t know if it was the adrenaline, but I did not even notice that my leg severely injured. My pants were soaked with blood. I must have hit that rock harder than I thought I did. I thought I could get up, but the pain was so intense that I went right back down into his lap. “My name is Bryson, what is your name son?” I was not expecting to be called “son”, but I kind of liked it. “name is Nathan” “Well Nathan, nice to meet you. Let me take care of this wound for you. I am a nurse and I have all the things we need at my place. My car is at the trailhead about a mile away. I will carry you there.” I didn’t know how to respond. “Bryson, I weigh 230lbs, I am not a small guy. Are you sure I won’t be too heavy for you?” He smiled at me and stood up with me in his arms. I can curl almost 300 lbs, I could carry you all day long”. His confidence made me instantly hard and it showed. “I can see that you like that idea don’t you?” Again, he left me speechless. Bryson didn’t waste any time and started walking down to trail with me cradled in his arms. “wrap your arms around my neck Nathan and enjoy the ride”. At times he would adjust me by throwing me up and catching me at a higher level. I don’t think he was getting tired, I think he was playing with me, literally! We got to his truck, a Ford F-150 with a lift so it was high off the ground. He went over to the passenger side and set me down for a minute, still supporting me with one arm so most of my weight was resting in his one arm. He opened the door and lifted me into the passenger seat. I thought he was going to fasten my seatbelt as well, but he just reach and handed it to me to snap into place. He closed the door and went around to the drivers side and got it. We went down the mountain and turned onto this winding dirt road until we came to this huge log cabin in the middle of nowhere. “Welcome to my home Nathan, I hope you feel welcome here”. He then got out of the truck and walked over to my side, opened the door and scooped me up into his arms again. This guy is amazing. He is not cocky at all. He is just compassionate and caring. He carries me into his house and sets me down on this really long couch. “let me go get my kit.” and he heads into the bathroom. I take this time to adjust my package. Bryson returns with what looked like a small red toolbox with he red cross on it. “let me take care of this for you.” Before I knew it, he started tearing off my pants starting from the waist and with one pull my pants were shredded in two. “You won’t be needing these later anyway.” He said with a grin that made his green eyes sparkle. To be continued…
  14. Something new for all you gorgeous people to read! This one's shaping up to be pretty schmoopy, fyi. It was spawned by a couple of really different songs getting thrown together while doing Cardio. I'm linking them and a visual aid for anyone who likes to see the inspiration side of things before they start reading. Also, another thank you is owed to Dredlifter for helping me iron out some numbers. First Song - Falling Slowly https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gQvwXbvs5GY Second Song - Confident https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cwLRQn61oUY And the T-Shirt https://www.teeturtle.com/products/gym-unicorn?variant=1540111073289 Enjoy. FORTUNE FAVOURS... Cas watched TJ warily in the gym mirror. The asshole behemoth had been eyeing him and Karen since they arrived. He had his usual band of cronies working out with him but today there was a new face added to the mix. TJ kept leaning down, way down to speak in his ear like he was giving some sort of direction. New Guy finally looked over and made eye contact in the mirror. Cas shivered and immediately dropped his gaze to the floor – the guy was fucking perfect! He snuck a look back up in the mirror to see New Guy nodding slowly to TJ before he started to swagger across the gym. “Incoming, Karen....” She pushed her blue-black hair out of her eyes and glanced over her shoulder before pushing out a final rep on the leg press. “Well fuck. How did he even figure out what time we'd be here?” Normally TJ followed a pretty strict schedule. With a little unofficial help from the staff, Cas and Karen had been able to schedule their own workouts for times when he wouldn't be there at all. Today TJ had thrown them for a loop – they came in well after he would have normally departed but he was still here with his counsel of sycophants scurrying about his massive frame. Cas watched the twink's approach. Well, that probably wasn't fair – New Guy was pretty damn built, more like a twunk, maybe. Ash blonde hair was playfully mussed at the front, a tuft of it standing straight up. Grey eyes stared out below fuller brows that arched up to prevent him from having a permanent cro-magnan scowl. He was a little scruffy but Cas could still see the square definition of his jawline before it tapered to the chin. He had a slightly upturned nose that lent his symmetrical face the slightest hint of a feline quality. He was achingly handsome and Cas felt a tingle of desire twinge through his body. It was like TJ had gone out of his way to find someone who would be as attractive to Cas's tastes as possible. New Guy was almost to them. "Fuck, he's seriously built...." Definitely thicker than a twunk. It was his height that made him seem smaller than he was. Cas estimated himself to have about a six-inch advantage. Karen was on her feet now, also appraising his approach. “Shit, Cas. This one's very easy on the eyes. And damn he fills out that racer tank in the best way. If he hasn't absorbed too much of TJ's douchebagliness, maybe he can be saved? How much do you want to bet that he mentions your shirt?” Karen looked over at Cas and grinned mischievously. The sight was decidedly unnerving. There was something about a woman who looked like she could bench press Buick smiling wickedly that could rattle anyone. “But you told me you love this shirt?” Cas started defensively. “That shirt is fucking amazing. Doesn't mean he isn't going to mention it. Five bucks?” “It's a lousy bet and we both know it. How 'bout we just give you the win and I'll bring you cookies next time I make some?” "Done. Let me know if you need me?" And with that, she moved off to more leg work nearby, earphones off and listening. “I'm sure I'll be fi-” “Hey.” Damn, Cas had turned to keep talking to Karen and lost track of how close New Guy was. Of course his voice would be misleadingly deep for his size. It was a low, rich tenor, just a smidgen above a bass. Cas felt his balls draw up tight in response to the vibration. His bottom lip hinged open and he stared slack-jawed at the person before him. Karen was not wrong – his chest and back completely stretched out his tank top. Well developed delts and traps topped off the look with the barest tease of his serrati disappearing into the shirt down each side. The dense spread of blond hair across his pecs was trimmed but not shaved. Same thing under the arms, but, as Cas's gaze involuntarily lowered, not the legs. Interesting.... “Uh, Hello?” New guy tried his greeting again, this time paired with a confident smirk in response to Cas's less-than-subtle ogling. “Sorry, sorry – Hi?” Cas couldn't stop himself from blushing scarlet. “I just came over here to say that I, um, really like your shirt...?” Karen snorted in the background. “That sounded like a question. You sure that's why you're over here?” Cas gave a pointed stare at TJ across the gym. New Guy turned his head to follow the look. TJ just stood there, watching patiently with a malicious stare – his blue eyes chips of ice from across the room. Cas shivered at the hate in the look. New Guy noticed the shiver as he turned back. “Just... just ignore him.” “It's... complicated.” “I'm sure it is. Any more complicated than why you decided to wear a shirt that has a buff, dead-lifting unicorn with a rainbow, mohawk mane to a gym in a small, conservative city?” New Guy took another step closer so they were barely 6 inches apart. “There is nothing wrong with my shirt. It's a dead-lifting unicorn, where the hell else am I supposed to wear it?” Cas hissed out through his teeth and tiptoed closer trying to intimidate New Guy. New Guy didn't rise to the bait. He just widened his stance, rolled his broad shoulders back distractingly and kept eye-contact with Cas. “I didn't say there was. It's ballsy. I like it.” “Oh... um...” Cas deflated immediately and shuffled backward. This was...unexpected. “Hey, you don't have to- Fuck this posturing bullshit. I'm Blake.” New guy held out his hand at what he hoped was a non-offensive distance. Cas reached out and shook it, grateful for the offer. “Cas.” For a shorter guy, Blake's hand dwarfed his in thickness. Sure, Cas's hand was a bit longer, but the strength in the breadth of Blake's palm could easily crush his if he wanted. Blake eyed the guy shaking his hand quickly. He had looked so confident laughing and joking with that woman from across the gym. He was taller than he looked – lean and athletic upper torso tapering to a lean waist. Blake could see the obvious curve of his ass through the pants but couldn't tell much else about his legs. High cheekbones highlighted his oval-shaped face capped with playfully tousled toffee-brown hair. His eyes were a vibrant green set evenly beneath what had to be shaped brows. A narrow, refined nose split the face evenly with full lips below that would be perfect for giving... a lot. Blake turned away to surreptitiously adjust himself a bit as he halted his thoughts before he got fully hard in his workout shorts. “Just Cas? Or is it short for something else?” “You sure ask a lot of questions, Blake?” “How else am I supposed to get to know you?” Why was this guy so defensive? “What did TJ send you over here to do?” “Well...um....” Blake knew this was a bad idea. Why did he agree to this? Cas saw the look of confusion flit across Blake's face. “Caspian. Cas is short for Caspian.” The revelation emboldened Blake. “He wanted me to challenge you to some sort of lift competition? I just kinda smiled and nodded and hoped I'd be able to work out what he really wanted once I got over here and started talking to you. He gave me this free workout drink to do it. I'm supposed to get the other part to after I, um, blow you away and win. He's kind of a creepy asshole, actually. He kept going on about how he was finally going to be the one to teach you something? I figured I didn't have a lot to lose – I don't really know anyone at this gym yet. It's a great ice-breaker, in here anyway, showing off a bit without being an ass and maybe find a work out partner. Besides, it's not like you'd be able to lift as heavy as I can, right?” Blake finished with what he hoped was a cocky yet endearing grin. “I'm sorry, what was that last part?” Cas had a plan forming in his mind. “TJ kinda led me to believe you'd be, well, smaller than me.” Cas quirked an eyebrow at that. “And even though you're not exactly small, there's no way you could ever lift as much as these guns!” Blake brought his arms up and flexed, hard balls of muscle popping up and filling the space above his arms. They were impressive on his frame – probably 15 inches cold. “Did he say what you were supposed to win?” “Something about you wearing the little blue devil and proving it to me and to him at the gym. Does that make any sense to you?” “He told you to ask for that?! Are you sure?” “Pretty sure. He made me repeat it before I got this drink.” Blake started to lift it up to his mouth to take a swig but Cas reached out and touched his elbow lightly, leaning in to whisper. “Don't drink it, Blake. Keep raising it to your mouth and pretend to drink but whatever you do, don't actually put it in you. And don't let TJ know that you aren't slugging it back. TJ has a number of...questionable hobbies. One of them is amateur...biochemistry, you might say.” Cas stepped back and looked around for Karen. They were probably going to need help for what he had in mind. "I'm sorry? Are you saying that this is some kind of...experiment for him?" Blake stared at the unnaturally scarlet liquid in his shaker cup. “Do you really know TJ outside of the gym, Blake?” “Uh, no. And I only joined like a week-and-a-half ago. I was using the gym on the college campus before I started my practical placement. What's the deal with you two? You looked really on edge earlier when you first looked over at him and now you're acting weird again....” “I just need to find my friend, the woman I was with before. I'll be right back, okay?” “Uh yeah? I'll just wait here?” “Perfect.” Cas practically bolted toward the cardio machines. After legs, Karen usually cooled down on a treadmill. He found her on her favourite one and led her back to Blake, her eyes bright with anticipation. “Hey Kid, hear you're going to challenge Caspian to some lifts?” Karen smirked as she drawled out Cas's full name. “Um, that's right, Ma'am?” Karen raised an eyebrow at getting Ma'am-ed. “Er, Miss? Do you... prefer Ms. maybe?” Karen burst out laughing as Blake floundered. “What's the matter, Kid? Haven't you ever seen a woman who lifts?” “Er, nooo...” Blake raised his shaker cup and almost forgot to only pretend to take a drink. “It's Karen, Kid. And don't really drink that shit – it's toxic as hell if it's from TJ.” She took a swig of water. "So here's the deal, Karen," Cas started. "TJ asked Blake here to challenge me, defeat me handily, and as his prize, I was to wear the little blue devil to the gym in order to prove it to Blake and TJ." Karen choked on her water. “He wants that?! Oh Kid, what the hell did you do to piss TJ off?” “My. Name. Isn't. Kid.... It's Blake. And what the hell is this blue devil thing? Why is it so important?” Cas leaned in conspiratorially and brought up a picture on his phone. Blake sputtered and his ears flushed bright pink. “He wants me to make you wear an ass plug?! Wait, does that thing actually fit in your ass?” Several people looked over at the trio strangely. “Say it a bit louder, Blake,” Caspian whispered. “I think there's a deaf woman in the tanning room who didn't hear you.” He stepped back and looked over Karen and Blake before continuing. “So, if you win, that's what you're going to get from me. I can guarantee TJ will bring his posse in on it and you probably won't be getting out of here without having your own forced blue devil experience.” “TJ is so sick. Sick and wrong. Why can't I just go over there and call him out? You know the management has just been looking for a reason....” Karen was livid. “Guys, I just met you. This is a little...heavy. Is he really going to get away with this?” Blake was looking green. “Hell no. You're not going to win.” “What!?” “You're not going to win....” “How the fuck are you going to do that!? I mean, you're in great shape and all, but I'm pretty sure the advantage is mine.” Blake puffed up. He wanted to help Cas out but he didn't want to be shown up in public by someone so...slim.... “Kid – shit, sorry - Blake, you don't know what you're in for.” Karen caught on to where Cas was going with his plan after hearing Blake's self-aggrandizing. “Did TJ tell you what he wanted you to beat me at?” Cas grinned widely down at Blake. “He...no, he didn't....” “That just convinces me he wanted to get back at you for something. Here's the wager, if you win, TJ ravages our asses against our will. If I win, you have to attend a HIIT class with me tomorrow morning and let me take you to brunch. Deal?” “I'm sorry, are you saying that if I win we throw ourselves at TJ's mercy but if you win, I'm the one who gets free food?” “And you have to attend the class.” “Pffft, it's a fitness class. I'll be fine.” “Do we have a deal?” “Fine, whatever. We have a deal.” “Karen. You get to be our neutral witness. Not even TJ will argue with you.” “Oh Blake, you're in for a ride today.... You doing what I think you're doing, Cas?” “Yup. Blake, you're challenging me to standing calf raises. Working set of 8.” “What?!” “You look like you don't skip leg day so it shouldn't be a complete blow out for you.” “Calf raises?” Blake was still stupefied as Cas led him over to the machine. “C'mon Blake. You should warm up.” Cas started to adjust the pads for Blake's height and then stopped himself. That was going to involve way more physical contact than someone like Blake would probably want from him. “You should, um adjust the machine for yourself....” “Are we seriously doing standing calf-raises?! Who the fuck tests themselves with calf-raises?” A couple of machines over, one of TJ's lackeys overheard the comment and started snickering. Blake blushed deeply, a tight coil of anger gathered in the pit of his stomach. “Fuck them, let's do this. I hope you know what you're doing, Caspian.” He lowered the shoulder pads and popped the pin down to 250 lbs and blew through 8 quick reps. "Nice, Blake! Did you even feel that? And starting at 250 will help make sure TJ gets the drawn-out show he thought he wanted. Just let me get the pads up." Cas slid into the machine and smoothly cranked out a warm-up set. Blake watched him lower the pin to 300. That wasn't too much below what Blake used as a working set. "All ready for you. Pin should be set too." Blake stepped in and started to push up, but something felt off. The shoulder pads weren't sitting where they should. They were too high. He shot Cas a glare, who stood there making the least convincing innocent face in the history of pranks. “Nice, Caspian. 'Cause that hasn't been done to me since high school. How tall are you anyway – you've got to be at least 6 feet if you need to raise it that much more than my 5 feet, 6.5 inches." Blake lowered the pads a bit more. Cas looked from him to Karen, who looked back at Blake and slowly shook her head. “Blake, who told you that you're – aw Fuck - it was TJ wasn't it?” Cas was fuming – this was a new low. “Uh, yeah. Said his drink could make me at least an inch taller in a week, just like it bumped him up to 6 feet, 5 inches....” “I'm not 6 feet tall. I might squeak by at 5 feet, 11 inches. Karen's 5 feet, 4 inches and you don't have almost three inches on her....” Blake looked over at Karen. His eyes were above hers by about an inch, but if she was only 5' 4”.... He tried to stop the tears of anger from welling up in his eyes. Simultaneously, both Cas and Karen reached out to touch his shoulders but he shrugged them off and stepped into the machine. “I'm going to fucking kill him. He is such an asshole!” Karen started to march off but Cas grabbed her shoulder. “Just wait. He'll get his without you having to go murder anyone. Blake, you good?” "Yup. Apparently, I'm still... 5 feet fucking 5 inches and...just fucking... fine...." He started slowly lifting himself up and down. “Hey, tell me about your favourite breakfast food? Pancakes? No – it has to be waffles. You totally look like you're into waffles.” Cas approached the machine taking care not to make physical contact with Blake. Blake finished his set without answering and just stared at the machine. “I bet someone as built as you are - like a stacked tank - can pack away tonnes of food, right?” When in doubt, appeal to the straight man's sense of masculinity. It managed to get a small smile out of Blake, but was he straight? “You have no idea, Cas. I'm going to cost you so much money with breakfast tomorrow. I'm going to eat so much – you're going to help me get even more massive.” Blake's small smile widened as he described the vast quantities of food he would consume. “You're up.” “You okay if I up the ante to speed this along? I think it may have been a bad idea to try and give TJ a show.” “Absolutely. He deserves nothing from us. I'm a little lost about why you decided to go along with this whole thing that he set up anyway. You clearly don't like him and I've put together that he probably doesn't like you so much either. Which is weird, because every time I met up with him, he was always talking about you.” “It's complicated.” “Yeah, you said that earlier....” Blake trailed off mid-sentence, obviously trying to cue Cas to jump in at any time. "Have you ever had someone do things to you over and over and over that you couldn't stop because they were just too strong, too big, too powerful, too whatever for you to deal with? And eventually, you resign yourself to just go along with certain things to avoid making it worse on yourself? To avoid the struggle, because the struggle always ends up with you losing and making things worse for yourself?” “I can't say that I've ever really experienced it....” Blake started to look distinctly uncomfortable with where Cas might be going. “But you can follow the train of thought?” “A bit, I guess. Kinda sounds a little... rough, actually.” “Yeah...you could say that....I-” Cas stopped himself and sighed. This wasn't the time or place; he could not have this conversation here. “...Cas...?” Karen's hand reached out and made the faintest contact with his elbow. Blake watched them look at each other silently. Without exchanging a single word, he saw the tension bleed out of Caspian with that single, gossamer touch from his friend. Hearing Cas speak, seeing him fight to get the words out.... Blake wasn't stupid. He knew where the train of thought led. It woke something inside him, not quite a righteous anger, but a desire to make things different, to show Cas that he was stronger than he gave himself credit for. “Let's just say it's like that, okay? I don't want to give TJ any reason to do anything and so I'm going along with this little charade of his. Besides, if I hadn't, you and I might not have really met, right?” Cas tried to lighten the mood. This was way too serious. “Well if you put it that way, I am pretty amazing....” Blake couldn't resist bringing his arms up behind his head and flexing them while he flared out his shoulders and upper back. The look of raw, naked awe and desire Cas gave him fuelled whatever was awakening within him. He wanted so much more of that look. He wanted so much more than five paltry minutes of feigned intimacy with this person. Caspian discerned a change in Blake's expression, a glint of something he couldn't identify. Shaking off his own emotions he broke the gaze and looked back at the machine. "Brilliant then. Let's finish this." Cas lowered the pin to 350 and adjusted the pads, taking special care to actually mark what height Blake needed. He cranked out the set without breaking a sweat. Blake gaped at how easy Cas did the warm-up set. “You're still warming up at 350?” It was Cas's turn to blush a bit as he lowered the pads. “....yeah.... Um, maybe you should just go for your max...?” Blake gulped and stepped into the machine. He liked leg day... mostly. He didn't skip it at least. How could this ...twig, well relative to him anyway, outperform him on any lift? He dropped the pin to 400 and took a deep breath. It was one plate more than he had worked with last week – he could do this! He made it to three before he started to struggle. Four and five burned but were workable. Six... six was rough. Seven...he felt the weight move up the slightest bit before he had to lower it. “Nice job, Ki-Blake. I'll give you your seven.” Karen clapped him on the back. She was being generous and he knew it. “Fuck. TJ's starting to make his way over. I'll try to make this quick, but it might get ugly, Blake.” Cas raised the pads and did four quick lifts and then stopped and lowered the pin to 500 even. Blake's jaw fell open as he watched Cas work through his complete set. At least this time it looked like he had to work for it a little. “Can he actually max the machine?” Blake's gaze didn't leave Cas's curvaceous ass methodically rising up and down in steady, controlled motion. “Probably.” Karen crossed her arms and widened her stance in preparation for TJ's arrival with his henchmen. “He's stopping at 500 so I can save some face, isn't he?” “Yuuup. Cas is usually a pretty good kid.” “Finally, he gets Kidded.” Karen snorted. “Kid, everyone's 'kid' to me. Except TJ and his crew – they're just assholes.” “Is he... How...old-” Blake leaned in close to ask but Karen saved him from having to say it. “25. But you didn't hear it from me.” She spoke low enough for only Blake to hear before calling out as Cas finished his set, “And that's a set of 8 at 500 for Caspian. You want to try it, Blake?” “Hell no. I, uh, have to survive a HIIT class tomorrow now and find something clean to wear for breakfast....” Cas stepped out of the machine just as TJ finished his lumbering approach. Blake watched Cas's body tense. He raised himself up onto the balls of his feet as if he were expecting to run or kick. He clenched his hands tight but not into fists. Blake could see Cas's fingernails digging into his palms. Was he seriously going to make himself bleed? Could he be that angry? And then Cas shot a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure Blake and Karen were with him. His eyes were wide with fear, pupils dilated in preparation of a flight response. Despite his anxiety, he still managed to turn back to the object of his terror and stand his ground as TJ sneered down at him. Blake cursed under his breath and started toward Caspian. Karen quickly grabbed his wrist to stop him from rushing in before Cas had a chance to stand up for himself. “Queer.” The voice sounded reedy, petulant. A sharp contrast to the hulking exterior. Dark hair and a solid brow line scowled over emotionless blue eyes. A grim slash of a mouth barely opened when he talked. He could someday, possibly even be handsome if he bothered taking care of himself or took the time to smile occasionally. “TJ.” Cas returned icily. “Anything I can help you with?” “Just coming over to see how your little competition went. Calf-raises huh? Can't say I'm really surprised that someone as pitiful as you would pick something like that, Cassie.” He rested a hand on the machine and leaned down into Cas, trying his best to force him into giving ground. Blake was having none of it. He broke from Karen and deftly interposed himself between Cas and TJ's looming form. Sure, Cas was tall enough that TJ still had a clear shot at his face, but if he tried it, he'd have to leave his abdomen open to whatever Blake wanted to dish out. Blake shoved his shaker cup up at TJ's chest. Hard. The unexpected movement caught TJ off guard and he stumbled back a step. Blake felt Cas slowly let out the breath he had been holding. “It went pretty well, all things considered, big fella.” Blake kept his voice steady, neutral. “I did get my ass handed to me though, so there won't be any blue devil in your immediate future. I guess you'll have to have one of your 'friends' help you out with that instead.” TJ's eyes narrowed. "Oh, and I won't need that drink you offered me after all. Looks like I didn't have the stomach for the first bit. How about you keep my shaker cup, eh? It's the least I could do for all the assistance you gave me showing me around this week and helping me figure out who to avoid.” “Careful, shortstack. Pretty sure you're making a mistake right now.” “Nah. No mistake. But thanks. So Much. For coming over. To say goodbye.” Blake laid it on thick at the end. A moment of tense silence settled between them before TJ finally spoke. “That's... cool.... We were just about to head out anyway. Take care, ladies.” His inflection ensured not a single person felt anything was 'cool.' TJ pushed against Blake as he made his way past the trio and toward the door. The couple of hangers-on scampered after him looking more like animated caricatures than actual people. Just as he reached the corner Cas called out. “Blake was telling me about your problem with accurately measuring your height, TJ. If you ever need someone to help you buy shoes with even thicker soles than those ones so you can actually hit 6'4,” give me a call. I'd love to help you deal with your insecurity.” TJ stopped for a moment but didn't turn around. His two underlings failed to notice and collided with his broad back. Muttering apologies to TJ, they all awkwardly started toward the exit again. "Well, you two little shits were in fine form. Did you feed each other fistfuls of sass pills while you were flirting earlier?" Karen barely managed to keep a straight face. Blake shook himself out while Cas tried to control his breathing. "Thanks, guys. And Blake, you didn't have to do that, stepping in front of me. It was a stupidly brave, kind gesture and really appreciated but you could have gotten yourself killed or worse what if he had actu-" “Hey.” Blake raised a hand up to Cas's shoulder to snap him out of his rant. “If I didn't want to be there, I wouldn't have put myself there. I'll do it any time and every time....” He looked as if he was going to say something else but instead suddenly blurted,” I, um, have to get out of here. Now. To go do some laundry so I have something that doesn't make me look like a hobo for tomorrow. What time's the class?” "7:30 am. Lasts about 45 minutes. Don't wear loose boxers. See you then?" “Without a doubt.” Blake gave them one final bi flex before making his way toward the men's locker room with an overhead wave. Karen and Cas watched him leave in silence. “You manage to figure out if he likes you yet?” Karen crossed her arms again. “I had, like, five minutes. Five. What do think I said, Nice shoes, wanna fuck?” “From you? Yeah.” “Oh my god. I hate you so much right now.” “Nah you don't. He know you're teaching the class tomorrow?” “Not a chance.” “Smooth. Sure that'll be fun. Maybe I'll show up to see his face.” “No you won't – you won't even be out of bed until after 9:00 am.” “Nooope.” Karen grinned and then looked at Cas expectantly. “Well?” "Well, what?" All Cas could think about was how the hell he was going to patch together a workout when all he could think about was Blake's smile and his biceps and the perfect pattern of shorn hair on his mammoth chest.... “Aren't you going to follow him?” “Like, right now?” “Yes, now! Go.” With a playful shove from Karen, Cas tried to keep from tripping over his own feet as he hurried toward the locker room.
  15. muscledrain

    Dane's Ghost (Part 29 added 03/13/19)

    This story kind of took me by surprise. It has a life of its own. It's completely different from anything I've written before. It is romance-based and also a college story of first love. It is absolutely separate from anything else I've written here so if you like my previous stories thematically, just know this story has nothing in common with the rest of my work. I have almost the entire thing already written. I'm just editing now. I'm working on the last two chapters. Part 1 Northern California Not San Francisco, winter 1998 My name is Pete and this is my story about how I started to live a new life because my old one was really painful, and sometimes you have so much pain in your life, you need to walk away from it and just forget all of it ever existed. I was a freshman in college and walking through the chill night air, my breath turning to fog, when I heard Dane sobbing. He sat there in a T-shirt, on a damn cold night, sobbing and shivering. It was the strangest sight. Here was a behemoth of a man, a muscular giant of a man, the man I idolized, and he was unable to stop crying. I wanted to immediately walk over and give him my jacket, but I knew that was stupid because my jacket would never fit him. I didn’t know what to do at first. I wanted to go over and hold him, but I’m unable to do that with people. Especially big people. Big guy people that look like Dane, with their enormous melon-arms and ash blond crew cuts. His rugged, masculine, awe-inspiring face that could be in a commercial, a perfect face that I could see in a suit behind a Senator’s desk someday, or a sales company executive position, or the football uniform that he wore on the field. And he was alone. And he shouldn’t be alone. I stood there, between two dorm buildings. He was sitting on the steps to his dorm. I walked over to him, and I didn’t really plan on it. What I wanted to do was keep walking because I tend to hide from people. I run away from them. I’ve done it all my life out of necessity in order to stay alive. But I was sick of the old me. I was sick of feeling like the old me. “Dane?” He looked up at me. He wasn’t startled. He had noticed me walking across the dew-covered green. The fog was so thick you could see it obscuring the dorms at the far ends of the long rectangular quad. “Hey.” I kept my voice low. “You shouldn’t be out here with a T-shirt on. You wanna go inside? Or, if not, I can go run and get you a blanket because dude, you are gonna freeze to death.” “It’s okay.” He sniffed. “Leave me alone.” I hesitated. “I’m not supposed to do that.” That just came to me. Things happen like that with me. “Huh?” “Remember all that stuff I told you?” “Oh,” he said emptily. Something was very wrong here. “They’re telling me to bring you inside. So. Yeah.” I felt awkward but I knew he was going to get sick if he stayed outside too much longer. “I don’t want you to get sick. And you will.” “Okay.” He said quietly. He got up, as if he was unsure where he was and walked into his dorm room and I was right behind him, for some reason. I immediately asked him if he had any tea. He didn’t answer me so I opened a few cupboards and found some and got a pot of water boiling. Dane was sitting on the couch, his hands clasped, tears silently falling down his face, drying as he stared at nothing. His roommate Pat was there. Pat was a short Jewish guy, with a curly black mat of hair. Thin as a reed. Confident, though. Really confident. And mature. He was a good guy. Pat walked out cautiously from his room to check out what was happening. It was late, so he whispered even though there was no one else in their apartment because the walls between your dorm room and the next were always going to be thin. “Hey.” Pat crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, staring at me. “Was he outside like this?” “Yeah,” I whispered back. I walked past him to gently open Dane’s door. I turned on the light and found a big warm brown jacket with fleece lining, something that dwarfed me, and brought it out. He opened his arms mechanically and shrugged it on and then he leaned over sideways and said, after a while, “My father died.” And then I didn’t know what to say. Dane was the biggest, strongest man I’d ever met. He was on the football team. He was everything I wasn’t: big, strong, powerful, brave, sexy, self-assured, calm. I was shy, lonely, self-isolating, sheltered, an emotional trainwreck, only recently out, and I was more attracted to him than anyone I’d ever known. It should have been me crying in the middle of the night freezing my ass off. It threw me. This couldn’t be happening. But it was, and it was happening to this man who I avoided rather than lust after him, because I was gay but incredibly realistic about my prospects with him. And I didn’t want to do that to myself, lust after someone I couldn’t have. It hurt too much to love, to love too much, to love someone who didn’t think about you that way. But I should back up at this point, because it’s kind of important to tell you about how we met. Part 2 Beginning of fall semester, 1998 I met a lot of people when I got to uni. I wasn’t used to people. I was the only one who had brought literally everything I owned, because before that I was in foster care. What I owned filled one suitcase. I had been with a couple who were tolerant at first until they began to suspect I might be gay. The high voice, the lack of coordination and ability to play sports, the enthusiasm I showed over bodybuilding magazines that I hid under my mattress that the wife found. I tried to tell them I just was really excited about the idea of getting bigger in a gym. That didn’t work because they confronted me. They wouldn't let me leave unless I told them the truth. I hate it when people do that. Ask me to tell the truth. It’s so wrong. Then they sent me back. So that was that. I had tried to train myself not to feel anything. The thing that sucked was I liked them. I was afraid they wouldn’t like me and my worst fear had come true. That happened to me a lot. All my worst fears had already come true. But here’s the thing. When all your worst fears come true, there’s nothing left to be afraid of. Not even death. I never felt sorry for myself over any of it. And I’d been through such hell. But for whatever reason, I was alive, and I couldn’t mess up a single class or I wouldn’t graduate from college. So that occupied like 90% of my thoughts most of the time because I ran off of stress. It kept me alive. And that was the thing I was hoping would normalize me somehow, going to college. I remember thinking how I wanted to be a normal person. “So, Pete, tell me about yourself.” This was the thing my Residential Advisor Michael had said to me as he wanted to interview me for a newsletter that he was putting together. He was also new to the school and he had asked me to help him out. He was putting together a newsletter for the dorms. He was friendly and intelligent and for whatever reason he was interested in me. I had no idea why. He had come over to my shared dorm on a Friday night but there was no room in my bedroom because it was very cramped and two of my roommates were having fun in the living room talking loudly. He asked my third roommate Jay if we could use his room for the interview. Each bedroom was made for two people but his was much bigger than the one for me and Jeff. This is important because Jay was just ignoring us and working on something or other on his computer. Or looking at porn, maybe. I didn’t know but he was nice to me, so I supported him in his efforts to look at boobs and tried to join in and act like him and all my other roommates when they checked out hot women on TV. But I was flummoxed. What could I say about myself? “I don’t know what to say. Um. Hmm. I like to read a lot. I like to read science fiction and fantasy. A lot. Big epics. I’m reading Dan Simmons books right now. He’s really good.” “Why don’t you tell me about your family? Who’s in your family?” “I don’t have any family. They’re all dead.” Boy, can I kill the vibe. It never failed. My reality was a downer. I didn’t always realize that, though. I said it in a chipper way, like I was in a job interview and just trying to pretend I was really happy to be there. I had retrained my brain, you see. Act like them. Act like them and they will think you’re one of them. His face had changed so quickly. He looked at me, this handsome, middle-aged religion major with glasses and a squarish chin. Thinning, prematurely gray blond hair cut neat and short. Not like my mess of a bird’s nest of brown hair that just went in all directions. I had a tendency back then to compare myself to everyone unfavorably, in case you hadn’t guessed. “When did they die?” Cue look of concern. No need for concern. I’m fine. “Well, my father committed suicide because he was a war veteran when I was a baby and my mother died of cancer when I was 13. My grandmother, I lived with her for a while until she got dementia. She just died but I hadn’t seen her in years. She didn’t know who I was anymore. So it’s okay. So I went to live in foster care but they kick you out when you’re 18. So I emancipated myself. I’m actually 17 but I graduated high school at 16 so I could come here. So, I’m on my own!” I finished with a shrug and a smile. He adjusted his glasses and seemed lost in thought for a brief second before coming back to me. “Pete. Um. Wow. That’s really powerful.” At this point, Jay left the room silently and closed the door behind him. “Huh?” “I think, maybe, it’s a bad idea to do an article about you. I think…what I’d like to do instead is just talk to you. I think you need it.” “Oh. Sorry.” “No! Don’t be sorry. Look, you’re…incredible.” “No one thinks that. No one ever thinks that.” “Well, I think that, and I’m someone. And, I’d really appreciate it if you could tell me more.” No one had ever really been interested in me before. It was a new feeling. “I don’t know what to say. I just want to be normal. And uh. I’m the only one here who doesn’t have parents. So that’s not normal. Everyone else does have them. They all have families. It’s weird. It makes me feel…like I’m not one of them. Like they can’t relate to me and I can’t relate to them. So I just...” “Have you thought about getting counseling?” “You mean like, how to get a job?” “Nnnnno. I mean, as in psychological.” Oh God. He thinks there’s something wrong with me, I thought. I immediately felt his shock resonating through me. I felt disgust for myself. I felt his pity for me and I hated it. “Oh. I didn’t know I needed that. I just thought that if I came here I could be like everyone else.” Easy peasy. Problem solved. No trauma here, folks. I’m just fine and dandy. One day, I would be one of those happy people bouncing up and down on the beach on MTV’s Spring Break. I would meet Carson Daly and tell him I thought he was really hot. I would watch hot college guys throw water balloons at each other on stage. I would live the dream. “I think it takes a really special person to admit those things and to have survived through those things.” I was trying to look away from Michael so I couldn’t see his face. I avoided eye contact kind of a lot back then. “I’m not special. I don’t think that’s true.” Maybe in an X-Files sense. I was special but not in ways I could tell anyone about, ever. “Maybe you’re more special than you think.” You have no idea. That’s why I don’t want to be special. I don’t want to be different. You have to understand, this was 1998. Intersectional wasn’t a thing I’d ever heard of and all I wanted was to be a straight white male instead of a gay white male because it was the best possible thing I could be. So I was pretending to be one and it was going swimmingly so far. I didn’t have any problems so long as I kept my mouth shut and made everyone believe me. I was going to be normal. “I don’t know,” I said. “So, do you mind if I ask you, what was your childhood like?” Michael asked me. My mind reeled. I said the first thing that came to my mind. “It was pretty bad. I grew up homeless. I just wanted to die a lot. I was hungry a lot. I was hungry living with my stepfather, too.” Why was I telling him all this?? “You had a stepfather.” Oh goddamnit. “Yeah. But, I didn’t live with him for too much longer after my mother died. He liked to push me into things. Walls. The floor. His fist. He liked to break things. Break me. He uh. I didn’t like living with him. So I told someone. Then I went to live with my grandmother. But…she didn’t understand how old I was. And she kept thinking I was five or she would confuse me with my mother and she would just start screaming at me to give her the drugs and I would just cry and tell her I didn’t do drugs. And then she stopped eating. She told me she was going to starve herself to death so I called the cops and they came and took her away and she was just, screaming. I visited her in the home one time. She started screaming at me that I was a…she used bad words. It was bad. She kept getting me confused with other people. She didn’t like me anymore. So, I couldn’t go back. I lived with this nice couple for a while and I really wanted them to like me but in the back of my mind I knew it probably wouldn’t last. So it hurt less, I think, when they said I wasn’t good enough to live there. I mean, they didn’t say that. They said, “we think you’ll be a lot happier living somewhere else.”” “Why did they say that?” He was genuinely horrified now. I hadn’t even told him the really bad stuff. “They found some magazines. I bought.” “Porn?” “No! I would never! They had clothes on. But, they just didn’t like them. I wasn’t good enough. For them. But it’s fine.” “Pete, are you gay?” He whispered. Oh God. I started crying at that point. I felt so stupid. I put my hands over my head. Stupid, stupid, stupid! “You can’t say anything! I finally tricked everyone this time! I can be normal!” We stood up at the same time. He came over to me slowly, and hugged me, carefully. “You are. You are normal.” “I just want to be what everyone wants me to be,” I mumbled. “I’ve been so careful. And then you saw it. I should have lied. I shouldn’t have told you that. I fucked up. Fuck.” He sighed. “Okay. Would you like to take a walk? Get some coffee?” I nodded. “I think that would be a good idea." I nodded again. "Go to the bathroom and wash up. I’ll wait for you outside in the hallway.” So I did and we went over to a local café. We sat there in the student lounge café. It was pleasant. We talked a little bit. Our talk had a bit more levity to it. I’m clever when I want to be. He told me so. He wasn’t coming onto me or anything. I wondered if he was gay. He seemed like he might be but I’d never made a gay friend before. But I liked him. I liked Michael. He was nice to me. And we talked. And that’s when I saw Dane. Dane would change my life forever, by the way. Dane was huge. Bigger than life. His muscles were so big I thought I would have a heart attack. I was already so stupidly emotional that night and now here I was, lusting and drooling automatically after an enormous jock that dwarfed me and my pathetic 5’8” 145 frame. I remember Michael introduced us. I remember going into this autopilot mode. I looked up at him and he said something in his deep voice and I just wanted him to hold me but that would have been entirely inappropriate and I would have been a terrible person if I’d just reached out and grabbed those big…huge…unbelievable muscles of his. I only came up to his chest. There was just so much more of him. He had to be one of the tallest guys on campus easily. I thought he was 6'4". It would turn out he was actually 6’6” and still growing. “Hi!” I kept saying over and over again. My mind broke and I couldn’t think straight. I think I said hi like four times before Michael realized I was short circuiting and Dane was looking at me weird so Michael excused us because we were having a chat. That was my first time meeting Dane. It was the night I finally told someone I was gay. Michael was nice to me and told me where I could go to get counseling. And I did so the following Monday. I signed up dutifully. Because if I wasn’t normal I was going to get someone to make me normal. To coax me into normality. Or maybe I could just teach myself to be normal through some kind of self help book. “Your Guide to Being Normal and Not a Muscle Fetishist Lusting After Giant Jocks” On second thought, fuck that book that I just made up in my head. Part 3 I stood in front of my roommates: Jeff, Jay, and Mike S. Jeff was usually not there because he was usually off having sex with someone. Jodi and Ames where also there. Jodi was who Jeff was usually fucking and Ames lived down the hall. It was short for Amy but everyone just called her Ames. Amy kind of looked like Renee Zellwegger before she got plastic surgery, only she had this larger than life voice and laugh, like a stand up comedian. Jodi looked sort of like Monica from Friends only her black hair was shorter than Courtney Cox’s. But both of them were pretty. Jeff had long hair back then. Like, really long, running halfway down his back, and he wore a short beard. Jeff was a big hippy for the most part. Very easy going. Mike S. had big buck teeth and unkept hair. He couldn't dress for shit and was actually trying to be a stand-up comedian. Jay was the silent type. The cool, compact, guitar-playing lothario of the group. He was the best looking out of the three of them. Mike S. was not really attractive to me. He didn’t take very good care of himself and was already getting fat. But Jay had this classic look to him. Very neatly groomed, hair clipped nice and short, a smooth rich voice. On the small side, though. He was 5’7” and on the thin side but he was deeply in love with a girl that he wrong songs for, and then he would write songs when she dumped him, and then he would find a new girl to write songs for, and then he would write songs when she dumped him. It kind of went on like that all year. These were the only people in my life. I didn’t have anyone else to come out to. They were watching TV and for some reason I’d gotten up. I’d been going to counseling for a few weeks and learned that the goal wasn’t for my counselor to “fix” me like I was an old pipe. I thought it would be easy, but it turns out I actually had to do all of the work and dig deep and not pretend I was someone else because apparently that would not make me happy. “I um. I have…I have something to tell you guys. And um. Um. It’s kind of important.” Jodi grabbed the remote and muted the TV. I think she knew as soon as I was there what I was going to say. “I’m…kind of…not straight.” I’ve just been pretending to be. Sorry about that! “So, you’re gay?” “Well that is the option that’s left, so yes. Is that…um…is that…okay…with you?” “Pete, I’m bisexual,” Amy told me, matter-of-factly. “Oh,” I said, rather in shock. “I did not know that.” “Wait, WHAT?” Mike S. said. “Are you sure?” “Yeah. I’m gay. It um. It just sort of happened. You know.” “Pete,” said Jeff the hippy. “We love you. You know that, right?” “You guys owe me ten bucks each.” Jay said, coolly. “Jay! Shut UP.” Jodi told him. “I’m just kidding. I didn’t know. But we thought you might be.” “Really?” “But you know, fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly. You know what I’m sayin’?” “I think so,” I said. I kept picturing gay birds and fish fucking each other or trying to. Fish don’t really fuck. I pictured gay fish throwing their sperm at each other during mating season, swimming between the sea-grass. I pictured Don Knotts exclaiming “I don’t want to have sex with a Ladyfish!” in his obnoxious fish voice from The Incredible Mr. Limpet. I’m just letting you know, dear reader, I used to watch a lot of old movies and I didn’t have any humans to raise me so TV had to take over for that. “Do you think that birds can be gay or..” “Probably,” Jay said. “Anyway, it’s cool.” Amy got up and hugged me. I’d never really hung out with her much but she was really very sweet. “It’s fine. We love you.” “I didn’t know that. I thought…” “Does your family know?” Jodi asked. “I don’t really have a family. I was in foster care. The couple I was with sent me back, though. They didn’t order a gay and I think they got Asian takeout after me.” “Well you should have gotten higher SAT scores!” Mike S. the comedian said. “Yeah, I know.” “Don’t you have a grandmother?” Jodi asked. “I did, but she died. She kind of lost her mind. I told her once when I came to visit but she sort of yelled at me that I was a communist faggot and the Soviets had gotten to me.” Mike S. started belly laughing. “Oh my God, that is SO terrible, but you HAVE to let me use that in my routine.” “Yeah, why not?” “So I’m just curious. When we were watching MTV, and you were checking out hot girls with us, you were not actually attracted to them.” Jay said. “No, not at all.” “Are you attracted to the guys?” “Yes, very much.” “Okay, then. Well, that takes care of that.” Jay grabbed his guitar. “I have to go meet Charlene. If you want to bring a guy over, it’s cool.” “Thanks. Thank you. Thanks.” “No prob,” Jay said, and went to find a girl to sing to. “Pete? Do you want to watch TV with us?” Jeff asked. “Yeah. That’d be cool.” Jodi and Amy smiled. They had a new gay friend. “We are gonna have so much fun checking out guys together,” Jodi said. She put her hand on my knee. “Maybe eventually? It’s a little bit soon for that.” “So who do you think is hot?” Amy asked. “NOT ME, PLEASE.” Mike S. said. “Definitely not you.” I affirmed. “Hey! That’s probably for the best.” He giggled. “Yeah, no you’re like family. That would be gross.” “I also think it would be gross to have sex with you. Good. We’re on the same page here.” “Yeah, I would rather my tongue fall out than actually kiss you.” I told him. “I would literally rather be kicked in the head by a gay figure skater spinning around on an ice rink than have sex with you.” He countered. “I would literally rather stick my hands up an elephant’s asshole and clean out its shit out with a giant enema and then clean out the shit bits with a giant Q-tip than have sex with YOU.” I shot back. At this point, everyone was laughing and there was no more tension. Everyone except Jay, who was out fucking some girl named Charlene. I had never had sex before, but I had heard good things about it.
  16. londonboy

    Big Boys and Their Toys - Part Seven

    Michael gazed in shocked awe as he watched the insanely loaded bar smoothly go down towards Saul’s mammoth chest and then swiftly back into the air as if it were nothing for the big man’s huge arms to lift it. Michael had never seen pectoral muscles so humongous – or so obviously packed with hard solid meat. Saul’s chest looked to be about four times as thick as his mid-section. Michael was pretty sure the elder man’s chest could stop almost anything speeding towards it. The numerous plates on the ends of the bar might as well have been the size of small cars. The bar bowed from the pressure. Michael had attempted to do the math in his head as Saul added weights on the bar, but it had become too much to keep up with. The enormous senior man didn’t seem to be struggling with the thing at all – as a matter of fact he seemed to be enjoying every second of the many reps he was effortlessly performing, as if he were trying to impress his new client. The younger, smaller man could not begin to fathom this kind of strength. “How many of me would equal what you are benching, Saul?” “Probably six or seven of you, Michael.” “No normal human is supposed to be able to lift that much. You must be from Mount Olympus.” “Well there aren’t many that can.” “Especially those at your age.” “Do I detect some ageism? Gray hair doesn’t mean feeble, Michael. It means years of building and years of getting stronger. Why can’t a man in his late fifties – soon to be sixty - be really strong?” “He can, Saul, I’m just saying it’s not normal. God, I think I would need a crane to move that thing.” “I’m second in my weight division for benching, but I’m first in many other competitions. You’ll see my name on about eight plaques over there on the wall. I love being strong. Lifting heavy things is a big turn on for me. I like to watch the young whipper-snappers freak out when they see this gray haired older man picking up something that boggles their mind and then lifting it over my head with no problem. And then when I do numerous repetitions it really sends them over the edge. Don’t know why it intimidates guys so much, but their reactions always get me very excited.” “I can see that. Your sweats don’t hide much, big man. As a matter of fact, you probably don’t have a piece of clothing that could even begin to hide any part of your hugeness. You could wear a quilt and still look huge.” “Yeah, when I lift I have a perpetual hard-on. I can’t help it. There’s just something about pushing all this iron up into the air that gets me going. It’s like moving mountains. I love the way it makes me feel so powerful. And then there’s the shocked gazes I get that add a lot to my pleasure. Lots of guys are into strength; you know . . . they just don’t admit it. When I lift I can immediately sense a strength whore within the entire gym. The clues are salivating, bug eyes, gaping mouths, and quick exits to bathroom stalls. But I’m not the only one sporting some wood. Your giant Redwood is paying homage to my lifting, too. Surely, that huge thing of yours is illegal in some parts of the world. In an effort to even up the score, I’ll say that no man is supposed to be swinging a bat the size of yours – especially a man as small as you. Speaking of cranes, young man – that thing looks like it could lift a lot!” “What can I say? I’m just a freak of nature. And there’s no way it could stay calm watching you lift so much weight.” “A freak, huh, just like me. But, really, I don’t consider either of us freaks. I’d say we’ve been blessed. And I’m definitely going to need you to share your blessing with me sometime. Now, I’ve lost count. What rep is this?” “I’m not sure, but I know you’ve pushed that over-loaded bar into the air more than fifty times and you’re not even sweating. You might as well be lifting the back of some small car.” “I can do that for you, if you want me to, Michael. It doesn’t even have to be a small car.” “Fuck, can you really?” “Yeah, I can. I can bench it or deadlift it, too. It’s your call. It would be my pleasure to show off for you. I usually get so excited when I do it I end up squirting a big load. There I am, holding the back of the car in the air and I’m shaking like I’m having some kind of seizure. It’s hot as hell. I get the feeling you’d have the same reaction. So, back to business before one of us has an accident - do you understand the concept of benching, now?” “Yes. How could I not given your demonstration? And I even remember that it’s good for the chest. Mainly because I see that your humongous chest has now swollen to the size of my queen size bed.” “Right. And now, let’s show you some one arm curls. We want to help you build hard biceps, like mine.” “That’s not possible, big guy. Your arms are bigger than my upper body.” “Maybe so, but we can still get them bigger. You go to that end of the weight rack. Grab the ones that are ten pounds. I’ll grab the ones over here that are one hundred. Okay, now keep your back straight, like this, while you bring up your hands – twisting a little at the end. You want to get a good pump.” Michael’s face went a little white when the hundred pound weights swung upward and Saul’s arms bulged. The younger man hadn’t been prepared for how gigantic the guns could actually swell. It was the most glorious sight that Michael had ever seen. The blood in his body all rushed to his massive rod and he became light headed. He blurted out the first thing that came into his head. “Oh hell, look at your arms popping out like blimps taking off from the ground. Those things are so huge!” “It’s one of the advantages of lifting such heavy things. I like the way big arms scream how strong a guy is, don’t you. Enormous biceps surrounded by super tight sleeves is like the best eye candy ever, isn’t it? I have an idea, put your weights down, Michael, and come stand behind me. Grab hold of my arms as I lift and you’ll feel what the biceps does when it’s curling. There’s no better way of learning than ‘hands-on’ activities.” “Won’t that look a little weird?” “Who cares? No one’s going to say anything. They all know I could toss them across the gym if I wanted to. Besides, most of the guys in this place would love to grab hold of my huge guns, themselves. I have dudes coming up to me all the time asking if they could feel my arms or would I please show off my strength by lifting them. You into being lifted, Michael?” “Hell yes, although no one’s ever picked me up into the air before.” “We’ll have to change that very soon. That’s it, get behind me. Now, reach up and grab my biceps.” “Holy hell, it’s like touching granite. That’s not skin, it’s stone!” “Wait until I lift the weight…” “Oh fuck! It swells up even bigger and ten times harder. Like I said before, you’re not normal. You gotta be a superhero or something.” “I can be a superhero for you, Michael. If that’s what you like. How about you call me your Thor, or, better yet, your Incredible Hulk.” “Except you won’t have to grow when you’re mad, Saul, because you’re already gigantic. How tall are you?” “Six seven and a half.” “Damn. And how much do you weigh?” “Three hundred and ninety pounds.” “That means you’re almost more than three of me, Saul! You’re more than twenty-five years older than me and, yet, you dwarf me in every way.” “Not every way, Michael. That thing between your legs would beat mine in a wrestling match. I think it could be two big men in a wrestling match. Why don’t you pull in a little closer to my body, bud, and let an old man feel that hard tool. Aw yeah, you’re short enough for that thing to fit perfectly up in my ass cheeks. That feels nice, Michael, real nice. The only thing that would feel better is if it were much deeper.” “Okay, Saul, quit squeezing your cheeks or we’re going to have an accident. The combination of that and your arms swelling up enormously hard is enough to do me in. I’m going to have to take a break.” “I think this is a good time to stop, anyway, Michael. I’d like to go get that coffee you offered and get to know you better. Who knows, you might even find me charming.” “Hugely charming, Saul . . . hugely charming.” Michael stepped away from the big man – giving his arms another quick squeeze before he did. The big man smiled and emitted an appreciative moan. Saul replaced the weights he’d been lifting with a loud thud that caused the entire rack to shake. The smaller man could not fathom being able to lift those things with one hand. He barely could lift a hundred pounds with both hands! He stared at the big man as Saul re-racked the ten-pound weights, too. The larger man noticed the look on his new friends face. “My size doesn’t intimidate you does it, Michael?” “Hell no! It turns me on as much as your strength does. It’s like being next to a giant.” “All my life I’ve been called a giant freak. I hit six feet when I was in seventh grade. I towered over most of my teachers. The size of my feet and hands made most of the grown men in my school insanely jealous. Most of the other kids were scared of me. I could have made the best bully, but I was just too nice. I liked befriending people – not harassing them. It wasn’t until I started fooling around with other boys in the ninth grade that I realized my size and power could make me popular. I had no idea other guy’s loved big, strong men so much. That year was the first time someone asked me to lift them. It was a friend of mine who had come over to spend the night. We were down in our basement and out of the blue he asked me to grab him by the armpits and lift him in to the air. I instantly shot rock hard. I also knew it would be easy as hell. He said he knew I could do it, because I was twice the size of him and he’d seen me lifting in the school gym. He didn’t weigh anything so I hoisted him effortlessly. I was actually quite surprised by how light he was. The dude came on the spot. There he was like a rag doll flopping around in my arms – with the biggest grin on his face I had ever seen. I held him in the air until he fully recovered and when I put him down on the ground, he just looked up at me and said thanks. We spent the rest of ninth grade and most of tenth with him trying to think of new ways for me to show off my strength and have him cum. We were both sad as hell when his parents announced they were moving. I looked him up about two years ago – he’s married now with four kids. That didn’t stop him, however, from taking me down to his basement and busting out a bunch of wads with me lifting him in new ways.” “Size and power turn me on more than anything, Saul. I’ve known a few strong guys in my life, but no one comes close to you. A guy showing off his power is the best foreplay ever. You’re like a wet dream come true for me. I’m afraid you’ve set the bar so high – not to mention with too much weight – that no one will ever come close to matching you. And, what about you? What gets your motor going?” “To be completely honest, Michael, I’m a true size queen - so the answer is easy. Giant cock. I’m the most powerful bottom you’ll ever meet and my bulges give a guy a lot to play with as he pounds me. My ass can milk a guy until he’s ready to pass out from exhaustion.” By this point the two men were in the locker room and Michael allowed his enormous hard rod to openly twitch back and forth in his sweats simply from what Saul was sharing. There was nothing Michael loved more in the world than an older muscled bottom. There was just something about plowing a muscled gray-haired man that made the younger guy feel more alive than ever. He was reveling in the fact that he had met Saul when the bigger man suddenly bent down and gave him a hard aggressive kiss on the lips, his tongue exploring Michael’s mouth like some kind of wild animal on sexual overdrive. Finally, the giant pulled away and Michael opened his eyes. “I just needed you to know how I felt.” “I can make it so you walk funny, tomorrow, big man. I know how to swing my giant bat like a pro. I’ve got the size and the skills. You’ll forget about every other man you’ve ever been with once you’re in the sack with me. I could make you the happiest giant on earth.” “You had me at ‘walk funny tomorrow.’ I have a feeling I can return the favor, Michael, by showing off my strength and muscles every chance I get. Let’s begin now by letting you see what made my friend in ninth grade so happy.” Saul slipped his hands under the arms of Michael and lifted him into the air as if he weighed no more than a jacket. Michael let out a soft whimper of approval and then cooed like a little baby. His massive cock was now pressing against his sweats like he had a bazooka stuffed down there. The big man held the other guy in the air for a while; just to emphasize his strength even more. Michael began to worry that he was going to shoot a big wad right there and then, but before that could happen, Saul placed him back on the ground. The big man had clearly gauged how much the younger one could take. He looked down at the shorter man. “It’s like you’ve got a third leg, little man. That is simply mind-blowing.” “My friends in high school used to call me ‘Tripod.’ I finally reached a point where I stopped trying to hide the huge thing. I always cause a big scene if I get turned on in public. Fathers actually cover their children’s eyes when they see me, but most of them don’t turn away.” “I have a feeling that massive things is going to open me up in ways I can’t even imagine, Michael.” “I promise I’ll be gentle . . . well, at first, anyway.” “I’ll take that coffee now, Michael. And then I’ll take a nice dinner. After that, I’m hoping you’ll offer me a hard plowing. And when we take breaks I can lift heavy things for you and let you grope hard muscle.”
  17. londonboy

    Big Boys and Their Toys - Part Five

    From across the street Javier could see the big elder Hank sitting in the restaurant at a table by the front window. Even from this distance it was obvious the guy was huge. Javier could see that the senior muscleman had chosen to wear a white button down that had its buttons undone almost all the way down to his navel. This made his delicious, firm, mega-pecs visible without the aid of binoculars or any other enhanced glassware. The guy’s monstrous chest poked out so far Javier was pretty sure he could have slid his hand into the gaping chasm between the guy’s stomach and the shirt’s material without any problem. Hank probably couldn’t have buttoned the shirt even if he had wanted to. From this distance it was also obvious that the elder man’s biceps were about to burst through the sleeves. The strained cloth was stretched like tight skin. Javier didn’t think it was possible for his cock to get any harder – having thought about nothing all day except this date – but the thing managed to go much more rigid. The young man had to stop for a moment, adjust himself to relieve some of the pain, and then he crossed the street. When he entered the restaurant he had a few seconds to look at Hank without being noticed. Hank was the epitome of muscle daddy-ness. Huge was a word that seemed inadequate if trying to describe the older man. Enormous might be closer . . . or swole, but the plain and simple fact was Hank was the largest man Javier had ever met. The seams of the older man’s shirt looked to be stretched way beyond the bursting point. Javier was confused as to why the shirt didn’t just rip to shreds any time Hank moved. The sleeves of the button down bulged in that way that said, ‘no piece of clothing is going to hide the fact that my biceps are bigger than most men’s waists’ and the traps and shoulders ballooned to the point you would have thought the man was wearing super-sized pads for football. Javier walked slowly to the table and the giant man was up and placing his big hand on the young man’s lower back before a word was spoken. When he stood he dwarfed all the people around him – like Gulliver among the little people. The hand gently, but firmly, led Javier to the chair Hank’s other huge hand had pulled out for him. “Hello gorgeous, let me get your chair for you. I got here twenty minutes early just because I was so excited about being with you. Fuck, boy, you look sexier than an entire college football team bending over nude to grab their ankles. If this weren’t a respectable establishment I’d slam you down on this table and have my way with you right here and right now. Oh shit, sorry dude. It’s probably too soon for me to say something like that, isn’t it. I should be more respectful, shouldn’t I? It’s just that you turn me on so much.” During this entire exchange, Javier had sat down and Hank had basically lifted the chair and the young guy a few inches off the floor to place him back under the table. The big man had picked Javier up as if he had weighed nothing. It was so surreal to be manhandled in such a nonchalant way. It was clear that Hank used his strength and his muscles as easily as most people might flip on a light switch or wave to a friend. Hank also took Javier’s cloth napkin, opened it, and then laid it across the younger man’s lap – making sure the back of his hand brushed hard against Javier’s fully engorged cock. Hank let out an approving grunt-growl that clearly made two ladies sitting nearby get a little wet in their panties and turn dark red with lust. Hank noticed the desire in their eyes, the way both of them bit their lower lip and instantly recognized how smitten they’d become in mere seconds. As he moved back to his table he spoke to them. “Sorry ladies, this big muscle daddy is taken by that chair full of deliciousness right there. Isn’t he beautiful? I wouldn’t even let death, itself, keep me from him.” Javier felt his own face shoot red. Hank’s confidence and openness didn’t bother him – nor did Hank’s masculine way of talking – it was simply because he’d never been referred to as ‘deliciousness’ before and it actually turned him on. When Hank went to sit down, he actually just raised his leg a little and let it come up over the back of the chair – in that ‘I’m too big to do things normally’ kind of way. This simple move elicited a new, exciting feeling somewhere deep inside of Javier. The smaller man understood just how the two women sitting (and still staring) nearby felt – he was completely smitten with the huge Hank, as well. Hank was now sitting down with his napkin draped across his lap. “So, let me get a better look at you, little man. Hell yeah, you’re even more handsome than this afternoon. I haven’t stopped thinking about you for a second, beautiful Javster. I was so worked up I thought about provoking a fight with some biker gang to work off a little steam, but I just unloaded about fifty bags of sand at the site by myself to get my body calm.” “Did that work, Hank?” “For about thirty minutes and then I was all hot and bothered again. Kind of like I’m feeling right now. Damn, boy, that face of yours could launch a hell of a lot more ships than that dame from Troy. You are one good looking dude.” “And you are one freaking huge, handsome dude, yourself, Hank.” “I guess you can see I’m not a big fan of buttons. I figure if you’re this huge why hide it, right? Besides, I love it when I catch people’s gaze glued to my giant chest just like yours is right now, Javier.” “Um . . . sorry about that, Hank.” “Why, son? What other reason is there to be this huge if it’s not to show off.” “I couldn’t agree more. Tell me about yourself, Hank.” “Well, I’m a freakishly massive grampa – having sired eight children with a lovely woman that passed away about ten years ago. I got married young, cause that’s what you did back then, but I always knew women weren’t my thing. I liked young bucks who were tight and small. I waited the appropriate amount of time after Sophia died, came out proudly to my children, and then started plucking gorgeous boys from the bars - literally, carrying them home, and making up for lost time. I’ve sowed my wild oats a few times over, kid, and now I like to romance cute things for weeks or months, driving them crazy with so much muscle foreplay that by the time we actually get in bed together their entire body had turned purple from the teasing and edging. The only thing I’m better at than sex is working out . . . oh, and business. I scare people at the gym when I lift, cause I’m so powerful and aggressive. Nobody expects a man as old as me to be so strong and big. I’m confident as shit, but I try not to be cocky.” “I like cocky, Hank. I, um, think a man as big as you can’t help but be cocky. And a man . . . uh, as handsome.” “My salt and pepper hair gets your pants swelling, does it, Jav?” “Yes sir, and a little wet.” “Then I bet the white dusting across my mammoth hard pecs is making your toes curl, isn’t it.” “Yes.” And then, to intensify the situation even more, Hank leaned back, raised his monstrous arms, linked his hands behind his head, which caused his shirt to open even more – revealing more of the deep chasm between his hefty mounds and allowing the light from the candle at the center of the table to enhance the silver fur beautifully splayed across his chest. Another woman sitting nearby with her husband let out an uncontrolled appreciative gasp and Javier quickly noticed all eyes on the restaurant were on the handsome man across the table. Two waiters crashed into each other because they were looking at the elder man instead of where they were going. Dishes fell to the ground and this caused Hank to chuckle a little – clearly he was used to this kind of adoration. He quickly lowered his arms before causing any more accidents. The man had gotten the response had had wanted – both from his date and the people surrounding him. There was an intoxicating sparkle in Hank’s eye as he continued to stare at Javier. That warm feeling that had covered he and his friends when they had been in the cave with the golden orb again surrounded the smaller man. “I think we were always destined to meet, little Jav.” “I think so, too, sir.” “It’s as if some magical force has brought us together.” “You have no idea, Hank.” “What’s that?” “Nothing. I just think its fate, that’s all.” “Well, in all my years of bar hopping I haven’t landed on anyone as cute as you, Javier, and I get the feeling I’ve never met anyone so into cured muscle beef. I may be a senior citizen, man, but I’ve got the body and stamina of a huge college football player. My libido is about even with someone that age, too. I’m thinking our next date might be you coming with me to the gym so you could watch me work out.” “Oh god, yes.” “Tomorrow, I do arms – if that interests you?” “Um . . . that’s my favorite part of a big muscle man.” “Really? Then you’ve probably noticed my twenty-seven inch guns, haven’t you?” “The minute I met you. They’re kind of hard to miss.” “Wait until you see them pumped up and covered in sweat. I can get ‘em as big as mountains.” “I think they’re already that big, sir.” “I’m really glad you’re an arm man, Javier, cause that’s my favorite part of my body to show off. Well, that and my chest. But you probably have already figured that out. Why don’t you reach over here and get a good feel of my mountain, Javy-boy.” “I don’t think that’s a very good idea . . . right here in the middle of the restaurant.” “Why not? No one’s gonna say anything. Hell, you’d be getting to do what everyone else in here wants to do. Come on, kid, let me show you what a real muscle daddy feels like.” Hank’s meaty hand swallowed Javier’s smaller hand resting on the table. He squeezed a little and then tugged the smaller man’s hand, arm, and body toward his side of the table. Hank smashed Javier’s hand against the biceps and then squeezed tightly. Javier immediately noticed that his hand was puny compared to the giant mound beneath it – but it was also puny compared to the big mitt holding it in place. Hardness was the only message that was getting to the younger man’s brain at that moment. He was baffled at how skin and muscle could feel so freaking much like stone or marble. Hank was squeezing so hard that there was a little pain, but Javier didn’t mind. He loved it. He had always dreamed of a strong muscle daddy squeezing different parts of his body to show off his strength. “It’s so hard.” “Hell yeah, it’s hard, Javier. My dad bought me my first weight set when I was ten years old. That means I’ve been lifting iron for over fifty-five years. That’s a lot of time for breaking down muscle and then re-building it – stronger, thicker, and harder. You’re feeling what hundreds of thousands of hours of cranking out reps can do to a man, especially a man that was already big to begin with and took to weightlifting like a fish in water. I could beat my Pop in arm wrestling by the time I was fourteen. I used to force him to flex his arm beside me when I was in high school just so I could see how much bigger my gun was compared to his - a grown man. I think he secretly loved having a son that was huge. He also liked to make me practice my wrestling moves with him, just so he could feel how strong I was. He loved it most when I would pick up his body and toss him onto the mat. By that point a fully grown man felt as light as a feather to me.” “Um . . . Hank, can I have my hand back. I can’t feel my fingers. Not that I’m complaining, it’s just that people are staring.” Hank let out a loud chuckle and then looked around, grinning teasingly at the other patrons. He applied a little more manly pressure to his grip, which caused Javier to exhale loudly, and then the big man removed his huge paw from the little hand beneath. The younger man didn’t remove his aching palm and fingers immediately; he wanted to get one last memorable grope of the unyielding mound of rock-hard muscle beneath. When he did finally remove his hand he shook it out a few times before laying it in his lap. “Hope I didn’t squeeze too hard, little fella. I sometimes forget that everyone else is not as big and strong as I am.” “No . . . no, it’s fine. I . . . um . . . actually like it when a big man uses a powerful grip with me. I . . . uh . . . like a guy to remind me how strong he is. I hope I’m not over sharing. Maybe this is too much information for a first date. “Hell no, Javier, that’s not over sharing! That’s the kind of information this old man loves to hear. It’s first date conversation when you’re with a man like me. I like a guy that appreciates and desires a little pain. I hate having to be so delicate with some guys. One of my sure ways of knowing a guy is worth dating is when he says he likes bear hugs, getting his head squeezed by a biceps and forearm, and being trapped between two huge thighs. How do those sound to you, baby doll?” “It sounds so good that if we don’t steer the conversation in another direction, Hank, there’s going to be a mess under the table.” “Whoa, we can’t have you messing up those cute tight pants you’re wearing, now can we? Let’s look at the menu to get our mind off of all things muscle, shall we?” “That sounds like a good plan.” “We can do some of those more boring first-date questions to help us both calm down a little. So, tell me about your family. Brothers? Sisters?” “Um . . . no, I’m an only child and both my parents passed away a few years ago.” “Sorry to hear that, Javier.” “Thanks. I’ve got a few cousins that I’m kind of close to, but really my family consists of my two best friends from college, Jason and Michael. Michael’s in Atlanta and Jason’s in Los Angeles, but I see them pretty regularly. We’re pretty inseparable.” “Are Jason and Michael as cute as you?” “Oh, much more handsome…” “I don’t think that’s possible.” It was one of those moments when the conversation stopped and the two men stared intently at each other. The chemistry between them was so strong you could have cut it with a knife. Javier’s stomach did flip-flops every time Hank’s huge frame moved in any way – emphasizing his enormous muscle each time. To hear the big man say compliments was like icing on the cake. The smaller man had no idea, however, that the Tank was feeling the same way. The behemoth had already ticked off so many things he usually looked for when debating if there would be a second date, he figured the sexy Javier was destined to be much more than a long-term relationship. The young dude loved muscle, older dudes, a little pain, and groping big bodies. It didn’t get much better than that. “You better watch it, little man, I’m starting to like you. I’m starting to like you a lot.” “Then that makes two of us, big guy.” “Whoa, there, we’re taking the conversation back to something a little too stimulating, if you get my drift. Let’s try some more first-date questions. How did you, Jason, and Michael get so close?” “That’s actually a very funny story – and quite appropriate for tonight. We were all three assigned to the same three-bedroom apartment in college for our freshman year. On our first night of school we had all unpacked, shared a few beers, and then made up excuses to head out separately for the night. About thirty minutes later we all bumped into each other at a bar called ‘Daddy’s Gym.’ Don’t know if you’ve ever heard of it, but it’s pretty popular in D.C. It’s a place where muscle daddies and those that love them go to meet. The three of us had individually been planning for a long time to go there as soon as we hit college. We ended up sitting at the bar and sharing our fantasies about older musclemen and bonding beyond belief. We’ve been family ever since.” “Man, the muscle gods put the three of you in the right place at the right time, didn’t they?” “Kind of like this morning, when I passed your worksite.” “Yeah, just like that. So, how long have you known you loved older muscle?” “It goes back to the man that sent me through puberty – when I was about eleven years old. I probably knew something about myself before then, but it was confirmed in a big way. I had a neighbor that was an amateur bodybuilder and strongman competitor. He was probably in his forties at the time, a bachelor that lived alone in the house beside us. Now I know he was gay, but I didn’t know of such things at the time. My second floor bedroom overlooked his back deck and one day I glanced out and caught him working out. I sat there mesmerized – watching his bulging sweat-covered muscles as he lifted weights, stretched, and then practiced some strength feats. At one point – about thirty minutes into his workout – he started doing some curls to work his biceps. As soon as my hormone-crazy body saw his big arms swell even larger I exploded like the final fireworks display for a Fourth of July celebration. It was such a powerful ejaculation that I actually passed out. I was only gone for a few seconds and when I came back to reality I finished watching my neighbor complete his exercises. That experience turned into a weekly event – since he worked out in his backyard every Saturday. My parents thought it weird that I would want to always be home by 3:30pm on that day, but I convinced them I was studying. And I was – studying my neighbor’s anatomy and learning all about beating off. By the way, years later I bumped into that guy at a gay bar and he told me he had noticed me watching him that first day. He said he loved the attention and figured he was helping me transition into adulthood. We went home together that night – he still lived in the house beside my old one – and we had a great time.“ “Was he still in good shape?” “Compared to you or me? If you, then no – he wasn’t. But compared to me, yeah, he was still big and muscular.” “That’s kind of a hot story, Javier. So, you’ve always been into older men since then?” “Older, yes, but they also had to be big . . . you know, muscular and strong.” “What is it about older musclemen that gets you so excited, Jav?” “Oh Hank, I’ve had almost twenty years to figure that out. I have perfected my answer. First, it’s security. Being with a big man helps me to let my guard down. I feel protected, safe, and able to be myself. Second, it’s the power. I know that’s related to the first, but it’s more. It is knowing the dude is powerful, but it’s also about getting to witness . . . and feel that power. That goes hand-in-hand with getting to feel the big muscles, too. And last, it’s the experience that comes with age. I dated a few big guys that were young and they just didn’t know how to please me the same way older dudes do. Younger guys sometimes aren’t confident enough or they don’t care at all about the other person. A man with some years has figured out how to please himself and his partner at the same time. An older guy that has been with numerous partners has learned many things and all that wisdom comes into the bedroom. I need a man that can lead and follow. That’s learned through experience – and doesn’t come naturally to any guy. I should also point out that in the process I have learned how to appreciate and please an elder muscleman, as well.” “Have you now? And how do you do that? What do you think a big guy like me wants?” “Honesty, for starters. A gorgeous huge man in his mid-sixties like you doesn’t want to play games. You’re looking for a guy that tells you what he likes and isn’t afraid to try new things, too. You also want someone that will let you take the lead. You’ve gotten big because you want to be in control. Yes, you can let others lead, at times, but you get turned on the most when you’re directing a younger guy and helping him to experience new things. You’re looking for a guy that will allow you to show off your body and your power at all times. You want him to let you open doors for him, carry his bags when your shopping, and intimidate the shit out of any man that dares to bully him in any way. Your muscles don’t bulge for your own enjoyment. Yes, you can appreciate them and like to look at them, but having a younger dude salivate as your biceps tease the sleeves of your shirt to near ripping is much more fun. I wouldn’t be surprised if you loved muscle worship as much as all the smaller guys that love groping you.” “How did you get into my head, Javier? I’m so jacked right now I’m scared the table is going to rise in the air and give away my excitement. Why aren’t you taken, little man? If you know all of that about big elder dudes, why hasn’t one scooped you up yet?” “Many have tried, Hank, but no one’s been up to the challenge. No one was able to keep up with me for the long haul.” “That sounds like a challenge.” “Take it as you will, sir. I’m feeling things tonight I’ve never felt before, so I’m going ‘all in’ and laying all my cards on the table. I’ve got nothing to lose because already the night has been magical. Feeling your huge gun gave me enough jack-off material for maybe a year, so even if this ends tonight, I’ll have no regrets.” “You’re either the devil or an angel – you know so much about what I like and what I need.” “Maybe I’m a little of both.” Thankfully, the meal was delivered at that moment. Both men were glad to have the rest from all the sexual banter. Little did they know that under the table were two of the hardest boners in the history of the world. Stars were colliding, continents were shifting, and herds of wild animals were stampeding for no reason – that’s what this connection of two souls felt like. Neither man could even begin to comprehend how much the other met his wildest dreams, but they were about to find out. “What do you do, Javier?” “You mean besides older men with huge muscles?” “Yes, I mean for a living.” “I sold a software engineering start-up company about three years ago. I won’t need to work again for the rest of my life, but I still go in each day and help my old company out as a consultant. I like to keep busy. And you do construction.” “Well, that’s how I spend my time between dates with cute young things, but if you really want to know, I own the company – MD Construction.” “Man, I know that company, Hank. Your signs are everywhere. You must be one of the biggest construction outfits in town.” “The biggest. Kind of like my arms.” “What does MD stand for?” “I’ve never told anyone the truth. I’ve always said it was for my two grandfathers Marvin and David, but it’s really the abbreviation for Muscle Daddy Construction. When I started the company forty years ago, I had already turned myself into a huge beast. I knew my goal, however, was to one day be a silver-haired muscled fox that pleased little dudes nightly. You have no idea how freeing it is to tell you that.” “And you have to idea, Hank, how pleased I am to hear it. Now it’s your turn, by the way, why do you like young men so much? You could have anyone you wanted.” “You nailed it earlier, Javier. I want someone I can take care of. I don’t mean I’m looking for a puppy. I want the guy to be independent, self sufficient, and his own man, but I also want him to be able to give control over to me. I want him to allow me to use my huge muscles and my experience to please him. I want every weight I lift to be about becoming more of that elder muscleman he desires. I want to make him feel so safe that all of his dreams are only about me. I want to help him not have a care in the world. I want to please him – sexually, emotionally, intellectually, and even spiritually. I’m a big man, Javier. I want the dude I’m with to know how big I am every second of the day. I want him to rely on my power and my size. You know, for simple things – like moving furniture and opening up stubborn tops to jars – but also for important things, too – like scaring the crap out of anyone that takes advantage of my boy, fulfilling his every need in the bedroom, and giving him a massive body to worship until he’s the happiest guy on the planet. How’s that for an answer.” “Now who’s in whose head! You just described most of the fantasies I’ve ever had from that first day I blasted a load to my hunky elder neighbor. Hank, I know we’ve only known each other for less than twenty-four hours, but I feel like we’ve known each other for a lot longer. And I feel like you really know me. Tell me something that you know will turn me on.” “Okay, let’s see. Oh, I know. At the end of each workday, two or three of my team come and challenge me to a wrestling match. No group has ever beaten me, but after twenty years they’re still taking me on. We move to an open area in the worksite and strip down to just our pants. That was their idea and I think some of them just wanted to feel my uncovered muscles.” “Who wouldn’t want to feel that?” “Exactly. So, they used to charge one at a time and I had a blast either stopping them in their tracks by just letting them run into my chest and abs or I grabbed their bodies and tossed them to the side. That really pissed them off because most guys do not like to go soaring through the air a few feet.” “I must not be like most guys. You can toss me anytime.” “I’ll remember that, Javy. This big man likes to toss little fellas around. Anyway, now the team has gotten smart and they all run at me at the same time. I love this even more because I either let them all jump on me and then wait a few seconds before I shrug them off easily or I grab the first guy that gets to me and I use his body as a weapon, spinning him around to knock the other guys down. We used to wrestle for about thirty minutes, mainly because I wanted them to feel like they were a little bit of a challenge, but now I usually just dispense with all of them in about five to ten minutes. They always get discouraged by how easily I defeat them, but they continue to ask me to wrestle them every day – in hopes that they’ll win. It’s cute how they go home each day like a dog with its tail between its legs, but the next day they’re all positive with confidence that this will be when they beat me.” “You know you’re going to have to let me watch that one day.” “I would have been disappointed if you hadn’t asked. Turn about is fair play, Javier, tell me something that will turn me on.” “That’s easy. I’ll squirt like a fountain if you stand in front of a full-length mirror and lift me up and down over your head. Watching you get off on your own strength as you press me up and down will make me explode like you’ve never seen. If you stop mid-press, when your biceps are sticking out to the sides and flex them even higher I get an even bigger thrill.” “Oh. My. God.” “Told you, big man. I’ve got nothing to lose if I tell you the truth about everything. I know what huge musclemen like and I get the feeling I know you better than anyone else, before. Testosterone oozes out of you like a boner-causing cologne. It causes me to go wild – like a cat in heat. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.” “Oh, I think I can handle whatever you have to offer, Javier. Your cuteness may make me weak at the knees, but even in my weakest state I’m stronger than most men put together.” “I’m banking on it, Hank.” By this time the two men were eating dessert. The meal had gone quickly, mainly because they were so swept up into each other. Javier was getting a little sad because he knew that soon they would say goodnight and go their separate ways. Hank had made it very clear that he liked to string a guy along for a little while, just to make him get even more excited about their eventual first night of sex. Javier had a feeling that Hank was going to go even slower this time, making sure to edge Javier in ways the little guy had never even dreamed. Hank clearly picked up on Javier’s sadness. “If it helps, know that I’ll beat off thinking about your at least a couple of times tonight.” “That does help, Hank. And I’m sure you know I’ll be doing the same many blocks away.” “Yep, and I’m pretty sure it will be the memory of touching my humongous biceps the first time that will send you over the edge.” “You know me so well. Already. I do have one favor, though.” “Name it, Javier.” “I want a really powerful bear hug outside before we say goodnight.” “How powerful? You wanna have a little backache tomorrow to remember me by or do you wanna have to have me lift you into a cab to take you home and then crawl up the steps to your place. I can control my hugs to your specifications. I promise.” “Let’s give the control to you, Hank. You decide what kind of hug I get.” The check came and Javier instinctively knew not to reach for it. It was important to yield to the big man – especially since he had done the inviting. Hank noticed the young man’s restraint and it impressed him. It was clear that Javier had taken care of himself for many years – especially after his parents had passed away. It was also pretty evident that the young man had a lot of money – his clothes, shoes, and watch screamed wealth, but not in an obnoxious way. Hank’s raging hard-on was twitching even more at the thought of this strong-willed cute man letting him take the lead. “I can make you feel like a prince, Javier.” “You already do, Hank. I can make you feel bigger and stronger than you already do, sir.” “That’s probably not possible, but I understand what you mean.” This comment made Javier smile. By this point the check had been paid, and Hank had pushed back his chair from the table. He stood up and immediately Javier noticed the unusually large outline of the big man’s hard member. It actually made the younger man gulp out loud. This, in turn, made Hank smile. “Being with you is probably going to cause me to get arrested for indecent exposure and I won’t even have to take off any clothes.” Javier stood up. He was immediately aware that Hank was looking down at his crotch – to see what was happening. Hank’s widening eyes and open mouth pleased Javier immensely. Yes, he was a smaller guy than the elder giant, but that didn’t mean he had to be small in all areas. His own super hard meat was thicker and probably a tad longer than the big man across the table. Hank gulped loudly on purpose, just to show Javier how much he approved of what he saw. “I also know how to use it, Hank. I know how to use it really well.” “I’ve never bottomed, Javy, but maybe you could teach me how.” “Oh my god, you’re kidding.” “Nope. I guess it’s still from my supposed straight days. I was married for so long that I got used to plowing. My wife loved it super hard, so I got a lot of practice for later on.” “I’ll teach you how to be a controlling bottom, Hank – how about that?” “I’d love it. I think I’ll especially love practicing.” By this time they were outside the restaurant – having caused quite a scene as they walked through the place with what seemed like logs in their pants. One lady actually fanned herself as they walked by. No, out on the sidewalk, they were still getting stares – especially Hank, because of his enormous size and muscles. Javier clearly noticed how people stared and ran into things because they weren’t watching. “You get used to it, Javier. I sometimes don’t even notice people staring, unless I’m doing something to show off. Then I love looking around and seeing their faces.” “Well, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being around your huge body, that’s for sure.” Hank took that as a cue to move in for what he knew the little man truly wanted. Hank stepped in front of Javier, bent his knees, wrapped his arms around the little guy’s torso, and then easily stood up. A guy walking by gasped out loud and almost ran into a light pole. Javier exhaled loudly – mainly because Hank’s hug pushed all of the air out of his body. Javier was surrounded by harness. Every muscle in Hank’s frame must have felt like solid rock. It was the most exciting and secure feeling Javier had ever felt. Hank started squeezing tighter and the younger man could feel parts of his body adjusting to accommodate the pressure. Soon there was a jolting pain to Javier’s torso and it caused him to let out a slight moan of pleasure. This caused Hank to smile even more and he brought his face down to give Javier a prickly goatee kiss – manly and gentle at the same time. Javier jumped at the chance to kiss the big man back – using his mouth in the same way that had always gotten him compliments in the past. Javier was known to be one of the best kissers in town – well, at least among all the people he had ever dated. It was Hank’s turn to moan – a little louder, though – as he experienced Javier special gift. After about a minute, Hank pulled his face back – worried that his body was going to erupt from the pleasure he was feeling from Javier’s mouth. “Where in the hell did you learn to kiss like that?” “I’ve had a lot of practice. Um, Hank, not that I’m complaining, but I’m beginning to not feel my legs, so when you put me down don’t let go too quickly.” “Oh, sorry, too hard?” “No, it’s perfect, I just don’t want to end up lying on the sidewalk.” Hank lessened the pressure in his arms and let Javier’s body slide down his own. The smaller man’s face smacked into the massive pecs before him and then settled into the mammoth crevice between them. Hank held Javier in this exact place for a little while – both to give him some time to recover from the bear hug and to excite him even more. He finally sensed that Javier was okay and he released him – noticing that the young man teetered a little and then strengthened his stance. Hank stepped back and looked down at the cute man, who was staring upward with a giant smile. “Not even a fraction of your total strength was it?” “Nope.” “I’ll have to work my way up to at least half.” “I’d never hurt you, Javier, but we can keep increasing the bear hug power. Maybe we can come up with a ‘safe’ word that you can use to get me to stop.” “More.” “That defeats the purpose of a safe word, little man.” “I know.” This made Hank laugh out loud. His mammoth chest bounced up and down and Javier’s gaze was transfixed. Both men stared at each other for a full minute after the laughter had ended. Somehow, each of them knew something magical was starting at this moment. Javier desperately wanted to sleep in Hank’s enormous arms that night, but he knew it was for the best to go their separate ways. Hank felt the same way. Neither man wanted to be the first to go, but finally the elder muscleman took control. “Goodnight, Javier. Meet me at Paddy’s Gym on twenty-third tomorrow at six. We could do a quick dinner after you watch me workout – if that’s good for you.” “Being around you is always going to be good for me. Goodnight, Hank, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before he turned to walk away Javier reached up and placed both of his hands on the humongous pecs in front of his face. Hank immediately tensed the muscles and everything went super hard. Javier drew his hands back and after making fists punched both pecs teasingly. Their hardness made the younger man’s fingers hurt a little and this turned him on. He looked up into Hank’s face, smiled, and then turned to walk away. “By the way, Javier, I curl about two times your weight. I just thought you’d want to know.” Javier did not turn back around. He merely held up his hand and waved goodbye over his shoulder. At the same time he shook his head, signifying he was in awe of the big man. Hank brought his fingers up to his mouth and whistled loudly – making a few people on the other side of the street stop. It even made Javier pause for a few seconds, but then he continued on. Hank called out, cementing his place as a construction worker. “Nice ass, little fella.”
  18. londonboy

    Big Boys and Their Toys - Part Four

    Today was not going to be a good day. Jason was getting a new boss. Well, to be precise, the company Jason worked for now had a new owner. Little was known about Mr. White, except that he had enough money to surprisingly up and buy one of the greatest marketing firms in Santa Monica, California. Jason was a little miffed because he was a senior vice-president and he had not been included in much of the process. Of course, he has been traveling around Southeast Asia for three weeks looking for a wishing stone and this takeover had been quick – so quick no one saw it coming. Now, here he was sitting in a boardroom with about eight other people ready to meet his new boss. The doors opened and a frail man of mid to late seventies entered the room. Jason’s hopes disintegrated. The new owner did not look like a happy man. His face seemed to have a permanent scowl and the way two assistants hovered around him made it clear he liked being babied. This new owner was going to be horrible. Jason just knew it. He turned to his co-worker, Dave. “That’s our new boss? I think I need to dust off my resume.” “No, man, that’s the guy’s old man. He’s the one that has most of the money, but he won’t be here. It’s his son that’s the new man in charge. His name’s Sebastian . . . “ Jason heard nothing more of what Dave was saying, for through the door walked what could only be described as daddy sex in a suit. Sebastian White was probably around fifty-five and had the most inviting, cock-exploding smile Jason had ever seen. The silver hair, the green eyes, and the fuck-me-in-the-backroom seventies porn mustache was so perfect that Jason got a little dizzy looking at the man. The room was instantly filled with the same warmth the young guy had felt with his buddies in the cave when they had touched the wishing stone. Jason’s rod shot rock-hard and he panicked about having to stand up to shake hands with his new boss. At the same time, however, he could not take his eyes off of Sebastian. The well-dressed new boss worked his way around the room, shaking hands with each employee and being introduced by the CFO. The man’s face lit up when he saw Jason. He immediately walked up with his hand outstretched. “And I know who this is. It’s great to meet you Jason. I’ve followed your career for a few years now. I’m Sebastian.” “Um . . . It’s good to meet you, Mr. White.” “No, please call me Sebastian. You’re one of the reasons I convinced my father to buy this company. Your reputation precedes you. What you did with the Lowell’s account was nothing but miraculous.” Suddenly, both men realized they were still holding hands. Jason immediately went to pull his away, but Sebastian held on and even tightened his grip for a few seconds. He then let go. Jason’s mind was racing between how gorgeous the man in front of him was to how he had taken a little mom-and-pop shop called Lowell’s and made it into one of the largest retail outfits in the world. It had been a marketing coup, which had ended up making their firm more money than all the other accounts put together. It had secured Jason’s place in the firm, but it had also gotten him hundreds of offers from other places. All of that didn’t matter at the moment, though, because Sebastian was saying something else. “You’re as handsome as everyone said you were, Jason.” “I’m sorry?” “We have a lot of the same friends and they all told me you were quite the stunner. I’d say they were right. Also, that suit is fantastic. Let me guess – Gus at Faulkner’s did it for you.” “Um . . . yes, yes he did. How did you know?” “He does my suits, as well, and I can notice his work anywhere. Those shoes, by the way, are to-die-for. I’m kind of jealous.” “I’m sorry, this is all a little surreal. My bearings are a little off.” “My dear Jason, let me start again. I’m really good friends with John and Mattie Scott. They talk about you all the time. They’ve actually tried to set us up numerous times, but both of our hectic schedules made it not work. It’s probably confusing because they call me Seb.” “Oh my gosh, you’re Seb?” “The one and only.” “To Mattie and John you walk on water!” “Well, I’m not sure about that, Jason, but we are good friends. I can’t believe we never met before. I think it’s mostly because I travel a lot.” “Yeah, if I remember correctly you were out of town almost every other week.” “I try to help take care of all my father’s businesses. And trust me, that’s a lot. It will be good to be here in Santa Monica for a while, though. I’ll be around to get everything settled with the takeover and then I’ll be depending on you to help with things after that.” “What?” “Didn’t Stephen tell you? My father and I would like you to run the office.” “Me? What about Stephen?” “Stephen’s a CFO – and a good one – but we need someone who knows marketing. Jack French is leaving, so we need a new lead person. We believe you’re the best for the job.” “I’m . . . uh . . . wow, thank you. I’m just surprised, that’s all. I thought you’d be leading the firm.” “Well, I’ll be involved a little, but we feel you are the right man for the job. Besides, if I was in charge it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to ask you out.” “Um . . . excuse me?” “I’d still like to go out with you. It would make Mattie and John happy – especially Mattie, she’ll be over the moon excited. It’s okay, if you’re not interested . . . now that you met me, but I’m still interested.” “No! I am. Really. It’s just that all of this is happening so fast. I mean it’s just that you’re handsome as hell and . . . oh crap, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I meant to say that you’ve just bought our company and . . . “ “Technically, my dad bought the firm – not me. So, I’m handsome as hell, huh?” “Um . . . Sebastian, I’m sorry. I was just saying what was in my head . . . I mean, I was just thinking out loud… No, that’s not what I meant. Oh forget it. Yes! You’re very handsome.” “Very handsome? I think I like handsome as hell more.” “Okay, handsome as hell. There, are you happy?” “Well, not completely, you haven’t said yes to a date.” “Oh yeah . . . okay, yes, I’d love to go out with you.” “I have tickets to the opera tonight. Shall we take in a little Verdi and then have a late dinner?” “It’s the grand gala tonight at the opera. Tickets have been gone for months. How did you get those?” “I bought them three months ago, when I found out my dad was buying this firm. I figured a guy like you would appreciate the finer things in life, so I got the tickets in hopes you would say yes to a date. And now I’m the luckiest guy on earth.”
  19. londonboy

    Big Boys and Their Toys - Part Three

    Michael was nervous about joining a gym. He had avoided it for the first six months he had lived in Atlanta, but the slight flab gathering above his belt now made him panic. He knew he needed to exercise, but he just didn’t want to do it around big, muscled, sweaty men. They always made him get excited and Michael’s genetic blessing from his father and grandfather caused a very uncomfortable situation in the middle of any workout – not to mention at his crotch. It was like he became instant porn. To say Michael’s tool was huge was an understatement. Usually, when Michael dropped his pants in the bedroom for the first time most men either quickly left in fear or immediately made a joke, like “What do you want me to do with that thing, throw it over my shoulder and burp it?” Being monstrous below the belt was not a problem for Michael. On the contrary, he loved it. It made him feel powerful in so many ways. First of all, it helped to weed out the wimps. Any guy that was willing to be plowed by Michael’s ample endowment usually was the kind of guy that did extreme sports or had always been chosen first for teams when he was in junior high. These guys always seemed to be confident. Secondly, Michael felt powerful because his sex drive matched the size of his meat. He seemed to have a libido that just wouldn’t quit. His big cock rarely needed resting time between orgasms. It had been that way all of his life. All of these thoughts were racing through Michael’s mind as he anxiously waited for his new trainer – a guy named Saul – at the neighborhood gym that had come so highly recommended by most of his friends. “You must be Michael. I’m Saul.” The deep baritone voice made Michael’s balls tighten. He was sitting in a chair and when he looked up he beheld what could only be described as the most jacked, giant muscle daddy he had every seen. Suddenly, Michael was thrust back into the cave of a few days ago and the warm feeling that had surrounded his body as he touched the orb. It’s not that Michael has forgotten about his wish, it was just that his nervousness about the gym had made it slip his mind at that moment. The ginormous paw that was held out to him was the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen. He forced his smaller – infinitely more delicate looking – hand to reach up and shake as Saul took the chair beside him. The big man caused the piece of furniture look small and made for a child. “Holy fuck!” “Oh no, Michael, sorry to disappoint you. Is it because I’m older than you thought?” “Hell no, it’s because you’re so freaking chiseled . . . and so tall!” “Well thank you. So, I was thinking today we could start by filling out a chart on you – you know, so we could get to know each other a little and we could have a starting place for your work out routine. What is it you’d like to accomplish?” “Well for starters I’d like my legs to reach half the size of your arms. Um . . . I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I’m just a little taken aback by how built you are. I . . . uh . . . I’d like to lose a little around the waist and maybe gain a little mass . . . uh, you know, bulk up a little. Sweet Jesus, I can’t stop staring at you.” “It’s okay, Michael. Don’t worry about it. How about strength? Do you want to increase that?” “Yeah, I guess. I don’t need to be super strong or anything. I think I’ll leave that to you.” “Okay. I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but another added benefit of working out is an increased sexual drive.” “Um . . . that’s never been a problem for me.” “Oh, that must make the girls happy.” “Well, I don’t know about the girls, but the boys are pretty pleased.” “Really . . . and what about the older men? Are they pleased, too?” “Well, to be perfectly frank, I’ve had a little trouble finding an older man that was able to keep up with me.” “Maybe you’ve finally met your match, sir.” “I don’t know, Saul, you have no idea just how much I don’t need to work out to grow in certain places.” “I have a pretty good picture, Michael, since you’ve been pretty stiff ever since I walked up.” “And yet it has a hell of a lot more to go until it’s fully hard.” “That’s exactly what I was hoping, Michael. I may be a huge man with bulging muscles, but when it comes to riding big things I’m as graceful as a ballerina. And my motto has always been, ‘There’s no such thing as too big.’ If you get what I mean, sir. Oops, that little comment made you grow more.” “Maybe after you show me how to work out I could buy you a coffee, Saul.” “Only if that coffee could turn into dinner later on. And then, after that, we could have fun measuring each other’s assets.”
  20. EDIT: Story now includes an extended ending Hello everyone reading, this will be my second story post ever, hope it's good and I'll appreciate any feedback I would like to state up-front that I don't intend to make a sequel to it, but I might play with the Venom theme in other future stories since the Symbiote lends itself well for muscle growth storylines. Sadly I didn't have the time make visuals for this story too, but I do really like adding a couple of illustrations for stories, so if anyone can and would like to contribute scenes to add to the story feel free to hit me up or post below and I'll integrate it Spidey and Venom’s Experiment It had been a while since Spider-Man and Venom had been enemies, they or better said, Peter and Eddie had somehow come to become something akin to acquaintances or maybe even friends. This came about after a few times when the duo had had to join forces against a common enemy. As much as Venom hated Spider-Man, he was also extremely dominant about his own territory and his prey and didn’t like the idea of anyone taking over his turf, but even more than that, anyone but him getting to take the Spider-Man made his blood boil. And as strong as Venom was on his own, he had reluctantly accepted Spider-Man’s help on more than one occasion when faced with an overwhelming opponent. After a few times, the tension between the two had managed to simmer down a little and they slowly started to talk more with each other as opposed to always being at each other’s throats, after all, sharing intel was important in keeping an upper hand on anyone who had it in for New York. _______________________________________________________________________ Peter and Eddie’s little alliance started to develop into something more like friendship as time went by and each started to forget the things that had made them sworn enemies in the past, and most oddly was that the Symbiote had its influence on Eddie reduce over time and as such it couldn’t rile his emotions up as much anymore against the Spider-Man and practically became nothing more than an extension of and under the control of Eddie as the Venom rather than a sentient entity with a will of its own. ‘Eddie’s become a pretty cool guy this past year’ Peter thought as he was pulling a t-shirt over his head. He was getting ready to meet with Eddie; they had been hanging out for non-superhero related reasons more often as of late. Peter was going to go to over to Eddie’s place for a movie night. He was really curious to see Eddie’s place since it would be his first time there. ‘Okay, all done here, better get going before I’m late again’ Peter said while grabbing his keys and heading towards the door, glancing at the clock on the way out which read 21:07. _______________________________________________________________________ As Eddie put the bag of sweet popcorn in the microwave and saw 21:51 on the screen he said to no one in particular ‘that twig is late again as always’ as he grinned a bit from the corner of his mouth. Eddie had taken a liking to calling Peter ‘twig’ due to his lithe body, Peter wasn’t a fan at first but has grown used to it since. Eddie liked calling Peter this in part because he himself was a pretty built guy at 1,90m (6’3”) and 104kg of muscle, he was thick, broad, well-shaped and tall to boot, he couldn’t resist making fun of Peter’s small size in comparison, but in part he also found Peter’s lithe body interesting in a way, he couldn’t explain it. He would just sometimes stare aimlessly at Peter’s body, following its contours and shape, mapping it all out, looking him up and down, it just made him a little warm inside and he didn’t know why but he liked it, not that he would ever admit it to Peter, he was way too proud for that. As his thoughts drifted off he started to think how it had been a while since he had heard the Symbiote’s voice in his mind, It had stopped really taking over and Eddie had for all intents and purposes gained full control over the Symbiote’s powers now. It had struck him as weird but there was just so much he didn’t know about the creature that there was just no way to know why It’s consciousness had just faded away, maybe too much time bonded with another creature with a distinct personality? Who knows, but he did wonder ‘if I have full control over Its powers now I wonder what all It can do, It didn’t exactly come with an instructions manual’ as he was playing with some of the goo around his hand, changing its shape randomly. Ding dong, ding dong ‘So he’s finally here’ Eddie said as he left the popcorn to do its thing and headed towards the door. ‘Well hello, was starting to wonder where you had ended up, thought maybe the wind blew you away’ said Eddie with a sarcastic tone. Peter just rolled his eyes and entered the apartment panting a little ‘Sorry, I left the house late, got all the way downstairs, then realised I forgot the key to my bike’s lock, so had to go back up then down again’ Peter just slouched unto the sofa. ‘I’m sorry but can I bother you for some water?’ he asked Eddie. ‘Sure lemme get you some...’ he said trailing off all the while not taking his eyes off of the sweat-drenched t-shirt sticking to Peter’s figure. ‘Here you go twig’ gulp gulp gulp ahhh ‘Bless you muscle man!’. Eddie burst into laughter ‘Muscle man?!’ ‘Yeah, figured if you’re going to call me twig all the time I should have a name for you as well’ Peter said in a sarcastic tone. ‘Well well, look at that, Peter Parker giving me sass’ Eddie said as he got close to Peter climbing onto the sofa kneeling with one leg on either side of Peter's, and gently lifting Peter’s shirt off of him leaving him in nothing but his shorts. ‘You can’t be wearing this drenched thing on my sofa’ Eddie told Peter who in turn replied ‘Sorry about that, I biked as fast as I could’. ‘It’s cool, it’s a hot day anyway and I don’t have an AC sadly, besides I have plenty of laundry to do, now I have even more of an excuse’ Eddie said while taking off his own tank top he was wearing and tossing it into the washer with Peter’s t-shirt and a basket of laundry. Now standing there was the big brute in nothing but his boxers and socks, which didn’t go unnoticed by Peter who tried to play it off as best as he could. ‘Nice place you got here by the way muscle man’-Peter Chuckling ‘You’re gonna keep that up aren’t you twig?’-Eddie ‘Yep’-Peter ‘Yeah it’s a nice place and for $705 a month, a fantastic deal here in NYC’-Eddie ‘7-0-5??!! That’s cheaper than my place!’-Peter Wink ‘I know’-Eddie ‘Ugh no fair, but I’m glad for you’-Peter ‘So, back to the theme of the night, what movie are we watching?’ said Eddie as he threw himself unto the sofa with Peter ‘How about the new Batman movie?’-Peter ‘Ohhhh with Bane in it right? Yes!!!’ Eddie said with a certain excitement Eddie wasn’t just buff for fun, he had a thing for muscle, he found it beautiful and sexy on himself but also to admire, just taking a look around his small apartment one could see several posters of bodybuilders and lame inspirational gymrat quotes like ‘NO excuses!’. As well as a weight rack and bench in one corner with dumbbells on the floor around it. _______________________________________________________________________ ‘That was awesome’-Peter ‘Yeah, especially Bane and that venom he uses’-Eddie ‘So that’s how you got so big huh? You named your alter-ego with the Symbiote Venom because you got your hands on some of Bane’s venom? wink’ said Peter in a mocking tone ‘Hey!’ striking a double-bicep pose sitting down ‘These are all-natural and I got them long before the Symbiote came along’ said Eddie with lots of pride Peter was taken aback by the pose, it was certainly a sight to see, especially those hairy armpits of Eddie’s which looked like caves with huge lats behind them, framed by the thickest arms Peter had ever seen so up-close, he gulped but he wasn’t gonna let Eddie know he was impressed or Eddie would hold that over his head for eternity. But at that point Peter did feel a bit disappointed though that he wasn’t in a bit better shape to feel more confident, he knew Eddie didn’t call him twig or showed off to hurt him but to boost his own ego but it did get to Peter sometimes, the jealousy. He would just like to experience having a body that impressive just once. As Peter came back from his detour into his thoughts he found himself eye to eye with a curious-looking Eddie who was analysing his guest quite in-depth. ‘Geez, what?’-Peter Stares intensely for a bit ‘Did I hurt your feelings?’-Eddie ‘Shit, he figured me out that easily? I really need to stop giving away my emotions so easily’ Peter thought to himself in a fit of surprise. ‘Nah don’t worry about it’-Peter ‘You’re lying to me Peter’-Eddie ‘You almost never call me Peter’-Peter ‘I thought that would catch your attention, or at the very least not add oil to the fire’-Eddie ‘You’re too smart for your own good, be dumb and buff’-Peter ‘You wish, so are you gonna tell me or are you gonna tell me anyways but after I pry it out of you?’-Eddie ‘Fine... you didn’t really hurt me just so you know, I just get a little insecure sometimes, I mean you look pretty impressive and I’m just a ‘twig’ and it can be something I wonder sometimes like ‘man how is it to be that big?’ You know?’-Peter ‘Sorry I didn’t mean to call you that to chip at your confidence’ said Eddie with genuine remorse. Chuckling ‘Calm down Ed, I know that, it’s not your fault my mind runs amuck’-Peter ‘Don’t worry about it, can I go use your washroom though? I really need to pee after everything I drank’-Peter ‘Oh yeah, sure there pointing door to your left’-Eddie ‘Thanks! Be right back’-Peter _______________________________________________________________________ ‘Man didn’t mean to make Pete feel bad, wish there was something I could do though to boost his confidence, but muscles aren’t something you can get just instantly’ Eddie thought to himself. ‘Wish I had some of that venom Bane had. Or at least knew how to make it. I mean it’s probably some kind of steroid, and I can get my hands on those but again not instant enough, would still take months of work. So venom must be like a super steroid, hmmmm....’ ‘Okay so steroids work by introducing excess amounts of testosterone into the body as well as other hormones, which are mainly produced in the gonads, hence why your balls shrink on a cycle, they stop working in response to the excess....’ ‘maybe if there was a way to stimulate his body to do it on its own it would work but how? UGH!’ Eddie thought, rubbing his hair in frustration. Then it came to him ‘I wonder how much control I have over the Symbiote? I mean I know it can physically affect the human body, that’s how it used to control me and affect my emotions, and those are controlled by hormones breathes deeply I can do this....’ _______________________________________________________________________ ‘Man I feel like I have been freed from a prison’ Peter said as he sat back down with Eddie. ‘What’s up?’-Peter ‘Pete, you said you wondered what having a muscular body would be like right? Would you really want to have one if you could?’-Eddie ‘That came out of left field’ Peter thought but still replied with ‘I guess so, it IS really impressive and I guess it would just be an interesting experience, but building a body like that would take more time than I have’ ‘Okay, do you trust me?’-Eddie ‘What?’-Peter ‘Do, you, trust, meh?’ Eddie asked again in a playfully annoyed voice with a grin on his face ‘Yeah, of course, why the sudden question though?’-Peter ‘I can give you that body if you would want to try what I have in mind, it’s weird but I think I can do it if you want to of course’-Eddie ‘What? Really?! Has he gone crazy? Have I gone crazy? Why am I so excited, it can’t be, but I don’t believe Eddie would lie to me, especially not about something like this’ Peter thought to himself ‘So, will you trust me?’ Eddie asked again, sounding fully honest ‘Okay, I’m yours, what do you have in mind?’-Peter ‘So, I was thinking, steroids work by enhancing the naturally produced hormones in the male body...’-Eddie ‘Yo, Ed I don’t want to do steroids’-Peter Sigh ‘Could you let me explain and THEN give your opinion?’ said Eddie in an annoyed voice ‘Sorry, go on I guess...’-Peter ‘So as I was saying, it supplements what your body naturally has and does, and I was thinking back about Bane and his venom, how it goes straight into his bloodstream and makes him grow like it’s a super-concentrated amount of the hormones which have an instant effect’-Eddie ‘Uhu... continue?’-Peter ‘Stay with me, so I was thinking how could I achieve a similar effect in your body maybe. Then it came to me, the Symbiote, it controlled us, our emotions and behaviour when we were with it remember? It has the ability to modify our hormones, so maybe I can use it in a different way, to affect other hormones’-Eddie Peter made a face of sudden realisation and interest ‘Ha! See! So now that I have full control over the Symbiote, I think, if you are up for it I can send it into your body and make your body make itself more muscular by changing how it works’-Eddie ‘That’s, that’s, that’s actually quite genius that you came up with this’-Peter Grinning widely ‘Hey, I’m brawn AND brain, cut me some slack’ -Eddie _______________________________________________________________________ ‘Hmm.... okay, honestly I’m still unsure, but... I trust you, I’m all up for this, what do you need me to do?’-Peter ‘Great! I know I can do this, for you at least. Okay well the primary hormone for muscle growth is testosterone, right? That’s produced in your balls, so this is weird, but I will need you to take your pants off’ Eddie said hesitantly Eddie was confident this method would turn Peter away from trying it but to his surprise, Peter gave a grunt but then reluctantly took off his pants and underwear and sat back down ‘Okay do your thing’-Peter ‘You really trust me that much?’-Eddie ‘Yep, so you better not disappoint me’ Peter said candidly Grinning ‘Okay’ -Eddie Eddie raised his hand and the Venom goo started to coalesce on his right hand, he then brought it down to Peter’s cock, and suddenly the Venom lurched towards the piss-slit entering Peter more forcefully than he had anticipated, he screamed at first but shortly after started squirming and moaning. Eddie watched, taken aback by how much his heart pounded seeing Peter like this, wrapped in painful bliss with his dick rock-hard. The Venom kept making its way inside Peter until it reached the balls and started accumulating. Peter lurched again as his balls started swelling, to the size of hen eggs, then slowly into lemons, then into the size of oranges, it was mesmerising. Once they were full and plump Eddie commanded it with his mind to surge Peter’s body with a new compound they would modify from Peter’s own testosterone and that’s when it started. ‘Ah, Ahhh, AHHH!!! AHHHHH!!!!!’-Peter ‘What’s wro...’-Eddie Eddie didn’t need Peter’s reply to get an answer, he stared as veins started to bulge, starting at the ballsack, swelling thick as rope and moving their way upwards, onto Peter’s shaft. Up his crotch onto his abs. Down his quads, and that’s when the growth started. ‘Wow .... ‘-Eddie Eddie saw as the thick veins he saw expanding like the root system of a plant, turning dark as if tar was following through them instead of red blood. Which was followed by the sudden but slight growth of whichever muscle the black liquid reached through the new network of veins. It was an amazing sight. First the quads, they swelled a bit bigger, then a bit more, it came in waves. ‘AHHH UGH NGH UGHHHH!!!!’-Peter Then suddenly the growth bursts got more intense, Peter’s legs went from those of a guy that regularly biked to those of a sprinter, then to those of Robert Forstermann. The quads and calves swelled like balloons, Eddie enthralled by all the individual muscle heads, the striations and the veins that only grew thicker. Moreover, the after-pulse left in them only made the whole thing more surreal and, well, arousing to his sudden realisation. ‘Holy shit Peter ...’ Eddie trailed off as the growth continued, Peter only panting heavily. The growth next went up his abs, the veins growing thicker all of a sudden. GROAN-Peter Each of the individual mounds of the abs started to pulse, thicker and thicker each time till they protruded enough that you could hide your finger in the grooves between them. Eddie was especially turned on by Peter’s particular ab arrangement. His bottom 4 ab mounds had joined in a somewhat U shape with 4 more individual ones above it, making Eddie feel a chill down his spine as he started sweating from everything he is seeing. The growth hit his obliques and apollo’s belt next, making them swell into thick masses gorgeously shaped and framing Peter’s fantastic overly developed. ‘NGH YEAH!’-Peter As Peter was getting into the transformation, his lats were next affected, the body seemingly reacting stronger and stronger to the new hormone in contrast to the slow growth of his legs the lats simply burst outwards, huge, meaty, veiny and striated drawing a hellish scream from Peter’s mouth. They spread like wings and were enormous like a body builder’s lats, they glistened with Peter’s armpit sweat and were decorated by a gorgeous armpit with a beautiful tuft of brown hair. SCREAM ‘OH GOD! IT HURTS, IT HURTS SO MUCH! MAKE IT STOP, MAKE IT STOP EDDIE!’ Peter said as tears welled in his eyes. ‘I can’t Peter, I’m sorry I’m sorry, the hormone is already flowing through your system it’s not my Symbiote anymore doing anything’ Eddie said in a very worried and apologetic voice as he saw that Peter was truly in pain. Next the black veins reached Peter’s pecs which also burst forward into two huge mounds of pure manliness, giving Peter a cleavage any man, and woman, would be jealous of, they were monstrous and well-rounded, thick enough that they’d make you drool, and each crowned with a thick, delicious nipple that seemed to have grown bigger as well, getting as thick as a finger sticking out about 3 centimetres, aiming almost straight down. Eddie could only stare dumbfounded at Peter’s developing body, some drool escaping his mouth which hung ajar. The growth intensified as the veins raged thicker and darker from the pecs onto his shoulders, down his arms, and up his neck. ‘You’re almost there Peter, hang in there’-Eddie The deltoids on Peter swelled into huge round spheres to the sound of Peter’s screams as the growth moved down his arms. First, the triceps swelled in two stages becoming engorged into a ridiculously thick horseshoe shape, with the long head growing especially large. Then came the biceps blowing up into a solid ball like a softball ball but with a vein running on top of it that looked like a snake with how thick it was, the throbbing and swirling it came with adding to the likeness of a snake. Finally, the growth reached his forearms as they thickened with cords of muscles, swelling nearly as thick as the biceps themselves, rough and manly Eddie thought to himself. They looked like Peter’s hands could crush diamonds with forearms that large, they would give most guy’s legs a challenge. Lastly, the growth reached Peter’s traps, whom at this point was red in the face, panting drooling and screaming from the pain he was going through. His traps swelled and grew from his shoulders down his back, it was large and plump, joining up with his neck but not overwhelming it so it still looked like distinctive parts of Peter’s anatomy. And then suddenly Peter breathed a breath of relief and seemed to have passed out, his veins started to turn back from black to pale green and skin coloured but not losing any volume, still looking sickly engorged like roots atop his muscles. ‘Peter, Peter, are you okay?’ said Eddie to his friend who seemed to be out cold. His chest heaved up and down so at least Eddie was sure Peter was alive. However, just as Eddie thought the transformation was over, the final growth seemed to be hitting Peter’s dick which was a nicely average 14cm (5,5”) but soon started ballooning larger and larger to Eddie’s shock who was right in front of it as he had been squatting at this point in front of Peter who was on the couch. ‘Holy shit,....... that thing must be 18cm now? 22? 25?!’-Eddie said, mouth agape The growth finally seemed to stop somewhere around 30cm (12”) long and 20cm (8”) in circumference, with balls that had swollen to match as well, about as big as a grapefruit. The massive thing just stood there hard and bobbing lightly up and down in front of Eddie while slowly going limp. Eddie had never thought of himself as gay, but after seeing Peter transform, and definitely after seeing his dick grow into this behemoth he was experiencing all kinds of feelings he had never felt before or at least not in this context or combination, lust, wanting, fear, confusion, curiosity, jealousy, especially jealousy. Eddie was 1,90m (6’3”) and 104kg of muscle, Peter’s about 178cm (5’10”) and used to be maybe 77kg at best, but now, Eddie was guessing he might weigh nearly as much if not more than he did himself. Peter was now a freak, he’d give a professional bodybuilder a run for their money. He was jacked to hell and probably no more than 6% body fat to boot, you could see every vein, every striation, every individual muscle group, it was like an anatomical model intended for medical school except the muscle mass was cranked up to the max, Eddie had never before been intimidated by anyone, at least not anyone he knew in person, but now Peter was the one guy to make him insecure about his own size.... and maybe some other feelings as well? _______________________________________________________________________ ‘Peter, Peter!’ Eddie said in a worried tone, it had been about an hour since Peter had transformed and passed out and Eddie was starting to get anxious. ‘Pete, please wake up’ Eddie said again to the seemingly unconscious muscle-giant that was Peter with angst in his voice. Peter’s eyes snap open ‘Peter? I’m so happy you’re awa...’ said Eddie, trailing off as he realised Peter’s eyes were entirely unresponsive and blank when suddenly Peter launched himself from the couch grabbing Eddie quicker than his brain could process, slamming him onto the floor. ‘PETER WHAT’S GOING ON WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME?!?!’ Eddie yelled in fear towards the unresponsive Peter who was now pinning Eddie’s legs open. The beast then proceeded to rip Eddie’s boxers right off, exposing his ass which Peter seemed to have locked his eyes on. ‘NO, PETER PLEASE, I’M SORRY I DID THIS TO YOU, PLEASE FORGIVE ME, DON’T DO THIS!!!’Eddie screamed as he desperately clawed at his formerly kind and gentle friend, he feared both what was about to be done to his body as well as having destroyed his best friend, the realisation that he really loved Peter dearly coming forward in his mind, Peter being the only person who ever got to really know him in-depth even though they were enemies at one point it never stopped Peter from being kind to him after they settled their differences even when Eddie seemed to still doubt Peter’s intentions for a very long time before he got comfortable with his presence Peter never seemed to put up any defences against Eddie. Suddenly, Eddie felt a sudden and piercing pain like a bone being broken coming from his behind as the beastly Peter shoved his monstrous dick up his ass without any semblance of lubricant, or tact, forcing his hole open wider than it was ever meant to, impaling him down to the balls in a fraction of a second. Then Peter started pounding like a machine that was designed to drill through rocks, he pounded Eddie like he wanted to kill him with his dick, and his face like an angry beast sure gave Eddie that idea. This drew a most gut-wrenching scream from Eddie who was crying at this point and had a frightened face like that of a child. This sight seems to have been the one thing to bring Peter back from wherever he had been lost in his mind, his pupils shrinking again and his eyes becoming focused. ‘Eddie? What the... What happened to me, my arms why are they so huge why.... EDDIE?! WHAT’S GOING ON?!?!?! WHAT AM I DOING TO YOU, I’M SORRY, I’M SORRY!!!!’ Said Peter in remorseful shock, but as he attempted to pull his titanic pole out of Eddie the pleasure he had been unaware of suddenly rocked him down to his core, his eyes rolling into the back of their sockets and he roared the most erotic moan anyone had ever heard and unloaded a cumshot into Eddie making him grunt and moan as the what seemed like a litre of cum filled him up to his stomach. As the bliss subsided Peter seemed to be coming back to his senses. ‘I’m... I’m so sorry Eddie, please forgive me I’ll pul... FUUUUCK!!!’ Peter couldn’t finish his sentence, while he was trying to pull out of Eddie, suddenly Eddie’s ass grabbed unto the mammoth dick like a vice, it felt amazing but nearly painful to Peter as he looked down to see what the hell could be going on when he saw what was happening to Eddie. Eddie let out a guttural roar as his body exploded, all his muscles suddenly engorged even larger, they expanded in every direction as veins as thick as power cords swelled under his skin feeding the muscles with unimaginable size, some of these veins coloured black in some points and slowly transitioning into grey and normal colour. His already impressive build expanded in waves, quickly approaching Peter’s current size, then quickly overtaking it, after what seemed like 10 powerful pulses of pure power the growth seemed to have stopped. ‘Christ...’ Peter whispered under his breath in shock and amazement, as his cock, which was actually now even harder than in his berserker stage earlier, was expelled from Eddie’s ass. If Peter was a beast after his transformation, then Eddie was a thing from mythology. His muscles appeared to be almost twice as large as Peter’s. If Peter would give a pro body builder a run for their money, then Eddie would reign supreme as Mr. Olympia, uncontested for as long as he lived. His arms were massive, his deltoids were like sculpted marble spheres, his abs reminiscent of an old European cobblestone street, his legs so large they begged the question whether he’d ever be able to wear pants again, and his cock, lord, his cock must have been at least 25cm (10”) in circumference and 40cm (16”) long, it was massive, could even beat a few gym regulars to a flex off, it was a grotesque thing. ‘Peter?’ came Eddie’s voice, sounding disoriented and scared. ‘Eddie! Are you...’ Peter trailed off, he had extended his hand to help Eddie but now he slowly pulled it back, ashamed and scared of what he had done to Eddie, he broke down into tears slumping unto his knees. He was sorry he betrayed his friend, he was sorry he raped him, he was sorry he had caused such a face scared for his life to be plastered on his friend's face when he came to his senses, he was sorry he had probably caused him physical damage with the monster he’d impaled him with, and he was sorry he had now turned him into a real freak, Peter at least was still human-like, but Eddie would never be a normal person anymore. He could never be forgiven. ‘Peter, PETER! WHAT’S WRONG? Don’t cry, please don’t cry’ Said Eddie as he ran towards his friend attempting to embrace him. Pushing Eddie away ‘DON’T TOUCH ME!!! I raped you, and now I made you into a monster, I’m sorry, don’t touch me, I’m not worth living...’ Peter cried in shame as he rolled himself into the tiniest ball he could make himself into. However, Eddie reached for him, and struck him across his face with the back of his hand, then again the other way now. With a face in surprise (not just surprise but also because that slap was carrying even more of a punch coming from the behemoth that was Eddie now) Peter looked up to Eddie who had a face of pure fury but pained at the same time. ‘Shut your mouth and don’t ever say that again’-Eddie ‘First of all, I was the one who experimented on you first, anything that happened therefrom was my fault’-Eddie ‘SECONDLY, I don’t care what happens, ever, you are never to say again that you aren’t worth living, or I’ll beat you bloody and senseless myself until your brain starts functioning properly again’-Eddie ‘GOT IT?!?!’ Yelled Eddie at Peter who winced at the loud words, still taken aback by what has happened, and more so as Eddie started to cry staring right into his soul. Slumping down in front of Peter ‘Just stay the Peter that I know okay, I thought I had lost you there for a bit’ Said Eddie as he hugged Peter, crying his eyes out. ‘Sorry I worried you...’-Peter ‘Don’t apologise dumbass, I did it to you... I was scared I got rid of you’-Eddie ‘Still, I can see I worried you quite a bit’-Peter ‘Of course, I love you...’-Eddie eyes widened, fake coughing ‘Well I love you too, of course, you’re practically a brother to me’-Peter ‘And what if I thought of you as more than just a brother?’ Said Eddie in a monotone fashion looking straight into Peter’s eyes. ‘WhA? UhM you’re just still a bit confused and emotional Eddie, I think yo...’-Peter ‘Not really, I meant what I said and I’m very certain of what I meant’-Eddie ‘.............’-Peter ‘I know what I feel, I’m not crazy, I’m brain AND brawn remember? And you don’t have to reciprocate the feeling, I actually used to be very wary of you at first, I’ve never really been very close to anyone, and certainly didn’t have an interest in finding that in someone I hated as much as you.... but that changed....’-Eddie ‘I have been feeling weird towards for a while now, I just didn’t know what it was, it was all new to me, but seeing you transform.... I guess it finally pushed me over the edge.... my brain was overloaded, my heart was pounding, and I can’t even admit the thoughts I had about your body while watching it, one I will admit though for your sake is that I don’t regret what you did to me when you went berserk...... I might have even enjoyed it more than I should have..........’-Eddie Peter’s mouth hung agape and his eyes were as large as the world, whilst Eddie was turning red as a beet at the confession he had just made. .......................... Mustering up the courage to break the silence ‘I see.... well I can’t say I dislike how you look now, you are even more impressive now, but at least now I don’t have to be insecure around you’-Peter Pointing at his body ‘You like THIS?’ Said Eddie surprised, he thought he was too much now for anyone to find attractive but his worries have just been blown away with the words from the guy he was in love with ‘I mean... I’m hoping you like what you see too?’-Peter ‘From what I said earlier you should know the answer to that is yes twig’ Eddie said sarcastically ‘Besides, I liked it even before the extra meat’-Eddie Flexing his arm ‘More like a sturdy tree than a twig now don’t you think?’ Peter said with a smirk Doing a double bicep pose ‘Eh still looks like a twig compared to THESE’ Eddie said arrogantly but in good fun Bringing his right hand to his cheek, arm supported on his crossed legs ‘Great, I could make men and women cream themselves from just looking at me and I STILL can’t impress you!’ Peter said with a bit of sarcastic annoyance in his voice ‘Still, I know why I grew, but what happened to you?’-Peter ‘Not that I’m complaining about it....’-Peter ‘I think maybe the hormones I made the Symbiote create inside you, were leftover in your balls after the transformation so it was in your cum, and when you came in me, in that volume it reacted with the Symbiote inside me and had an explosive effect’-Eddie ‘And trust me I’m not complaining either because at least now I’m strong enough to take on that crazed fucking of yours again and actually enjoy it instead of fearing for my life, almost being fucked to death by a muscle rage machine’ Eddie said with a mischievous look. ‘I’m sorry about that...’-Peter ‘You can make it up to me by giving me a second chance to prove myself’ Eddie said sarcastically. ‘I think your new muscles came with extra arrogance too’ Peter said sounding slightly annoyed but intrigued by Eddie. ‘Oh no, whatever shall I do, could you help me with that oh Spider-man?’-Eddie Quickly grabbing Eddie and bringing him in close face to face to a dead-serious face, surprising even the overconfident Eddie, Peter whispered into his left ear ‘I will teach you that every hero has a bad side....’ as he heard these words Eddie felt the enormous meat Peter had now become hard below him even lifting him just slightly off of the floor. Gulp ‘I think I did create a monster in the end’ Eddie thought to himself. With hungry eyes and a shallow breath coming from his mouth Peter grabbed Eddie and flipped him right over. Eddie could barely grasp what was going on he felt his hips being pulled up, ass in air and knees on the cold floor. His own massive cock becoming rock-hard within moments slapping his torso forcefully, the head reaching just shy of his cleavage, however, he was still extremely nervous after his ‘traumatic’ experience with Peter’s new and improved dick when he had transformed. Although he quickly started to lose focus on that as he felt a moist tongue suddenly penetrating him without remorse, exploring his insides with the conviction one would explore uncharted territory with. MOAN ‘Ohhh Pete, Pete-er, I haven’t done this before go a little easi-AAaaAoOn me’-Eddie Peter pulling his tongue out of Eddie ‘Never huh? I honestly wouldn’t believe you if I didn’t know you as well as I do because the face you're making right now tells me you wouldn’t be able to live without it’ Said Peter in a playful but mischievous tone while staring at Eddie ‘Shut up, don’t think just because you’re a bit more buff now that I’ll be your playthi-High pitched whimper’ Eddie said as Peter suddenly sucked on his hole forcefully ‘Oh really?’ Said Peter in a sarcastic tone while licking his lips ‘Well that high pitch you just hit would beg to differ’ –Peter ‘Don’t mess with me twig’ Said Eddie clearly a few shades redder than he was just a few seconds ago 'So even a guy like you can become flustered....?' Peter thought to himself taken aback by the adorable expression on that muscle freak's body ‘Oh.... well then, prove it mu-scle-man’-Peter Eddie couldn’t take the humiliation anymore, he was the dominant one out of the two of them, not Peter, he couldn’t believe how much control Peter had over him just by giving him a rim job, he had to turn the tables on him before he loses out to Peter, if there is one thing stronger than Eddie’s lust (besides his new and improved muscles) it was his ego. He quickly grabbed Peter with his legs in a leg cradle move bringing him down to the ground then turning around and pinning him in place. Being on top of Peter like this, having the control again Eddie understood why Peter was enjoying it so much, and his titanic cock agreed. ‘Hey, come on, I was just starting to enjoy it....’ Said Peter dispirited ‘Well, I have an idea for something you might enjoy, I know I will at the very least’ Said Eddie with a lustful look, propping Peter’s legs up on his own shoulders and placing the head of his cock on Peter’s hole ‘Hey, Ed, you’re not serious right?’-Peter Smirking –Eddie ‘Ed, no, you can’t put that thing in me, mine almost broke you and mine’s still human, you can’t be serious’ Said Peter clearly worried Eddie accumulated saliva in his mouth before pouring it over his massive pole, lubricating its length up and down and starting to move in closer to Peter, as close as he could without entering him. Peter was sweating profusely at this point and was starting to freak out. ‘Yo, YO, YO, YO ED, you can’t be serious, you’re gonna kill me with that thing’-Peter Grabbing Peter’s cock and kissing it ‘Don’t worry, I took yours when I was normal, I’m pretty sure that new body of yours can take much worse than this, I mean what else are these delicious Groping Peter’s Pecs muscles good for then, you musclebound spider?’ Said Eddie arrogantly with a very prideful and almost evil look in his eyes That’s when Eddie grabbed Peter by the shoulders and started pushing Peter unto his monstrous shaft, swiftly penetrating him down to his balls in one smooth controlled movement, all 40cm (16”) of it, knocking the wind out of Peter. The thing’s head had ended up two-thirds of the way up Peter’s oesophagus, almost reaching into his neck. He was literally choking on Eddie’s dick but from the wrong way. When he reached all the way inside Eddie, Eddie collapsed partially unto Peter below him, it felt amazing, no, more than amazing, it was indescribable, it rocked Eddie to his core, his best judgement was a small boat in the storming state that his mind was in right now and Peter was going to pay dearly for it as he started to pull out of Peter. ‘SHIIIIIIT, NGHHH UHHH!!!!’ Peter yelled in erotic fury, his mind going blank from the pleasure he was being subjected to. When Eddie had pulled out about three quarters of the way, he then mercilessly slammed the whole length back in in one shot. Drawing a perverted and painful scream from his victim. This only feeding more into the animalistic side of Eddie that had taken over. The old Venom had nothing on the sadistic sexual hunger that Eddie embodied right at this moment, in fact, it would have seemed quite tame in comparison. Eddie, with a Cheshire grin plastered on his face, started to progressively pull out about halfway then ram Peter’s hole full throttle, picking up the pace with each audible WHACK! that echoed through the room followed by a loud moan that could only be described as immorally erotic. As Eddie had let himself fall into hedonistic depravity, an hour and a half in, he was pounding Peter in the bulldog position as if he was trying to make minced meat out of the poor boy, the amazing Spider-Man had been reduced to nothing more than a muscle-bound nearly sexually-comatose sex toy for the Venom. He had fucked him doggy, pile driver, jockey. Up, down, and side-to-side, on his back, on his knees, on his stomach, up-side-down. Peter’s asshole didn’t even function anymore and he was starting to wonder if his prostate had been obliterated. Every attempt at a protest or for a rest-stop out of Peter’s mouth was quashed by Eddie giving him a harder than normal fuck shutting him right up. Peter couldn’t hold out much longer. ‘Ed, I... UGH! I can’t GAHHH FUCK! EDDIE I’M FUCK FUCK FUUUCK’-Peter ‘Just shut up and just let me make you mine, only mine...’ Eddie whispered into Peter’s ear as he carry-fucked him, moving him up and down like a glorified fleshlight His words made Peter’s eyes light up like stars on a clear night and that’s when he reached his limit ‘FUUUUUUUCK!!!’ Peter said as Eddie rammed his asshole one last time ‘NO you WON’T!’ Eddie said as he grabbed onto Peter’s cock with his mouth sucking down so hard it locked him unto it and that’s when it happened. Peter roared as a massive load shut up flooding Eddie’s throat so forcefully he almost let go, but he was steadfast and sucked even harder, then it happened again, and again, 8 huge shots. Eddie’s stomach had distended a bit just from the volume as if he had been in an eating competition. By the time he let go, Peter was drenched in sweat from the orgasm he had and Eddie was exhausted and nauseous from the cum he just drank. From the exhaustion he let go of Peter, he was held up by Eddie’s pole still inside him but as Eddie started to go limp he slid down and off of his dick falling to the floor exhausted, Eddie came crashing down on his own as well, one arm on either side of Peter just barely holding him up, and as Peter looked straight at the musclegod that just fucked him to heaven, hell, and back, Eddie, with his mouth still full of Peter’s cum, grabbed him and gave him a french kiss that should be written down in history books, coating Peter’s mouth and forcing him to swallow his own cum, their tongues wrestling each other as if it were an Olympic match. After what seemed like 20 minutes of ferociously eating each other’s tongues they finally broke the kiss to the sound of cum dripping onto the floor. ‘Holy shit’ Said Peter, his body shaking slightly ‘You’re all mine Spidey, don’t forget that’ Said Eddie in an arrogant tone but with soft eyes that betrayed his words with his true desires, that he was simply in love with Peter -------The End------
  21. londonboy

    The Toy

    I loved watching his mouth open wide in shock. He couldn’t speak – hell, he probably couldn’t even think straight. He obviously wasn’t used to being manhandled so easily. I could feel his little heart beating a thousand times harder than it normally did. I didn’t need to look down; I knew his cock was rock hard. There was no way he couldn’t be turned on. I held his small body two feet off the floor. I had simply slid my hands into his pits and lifted – no knee bending, no waist bending – I merely lifted his entire body off the ground with my mouth-watering giant guns. Man, it was amazing how light some fellas could be. His weight barely registered to me. I would have guessed one fifty or one sixty – nothing higher. That was one arm curling weight for me. He also couldn’t believe a sixty-one year old man could be so big and so strong. In his mind, I was getting close to the age where I might be put out to pasture. Gazing at my body in bits and pieces he would have said the arms were of a twenty-year old. The chest, he would have guessed, belonged to some guy who was twenty-five or younger, but then the dusting of salt and pepper fur made him think differently. It’s when he looked into my face – the crow’s feet at the corner of my eyes, the slight wrinkles around my mouth, and the stunning silver blue hair that was my crowning glory – that’s when his little mind couldn’t compute the facts. It wasn’t time for me to sit in a rocker or keep a walker beside my bed – as he so quickly stereotyped older men. The kid was only twenty-one and it was his first time in the bar called ‘Silver’ – a place frequented by men similar to me. We were big older men looking for toys. And by toys, I didn’t mean dildos or slings. I meant younger little men we could play with like a kid with her or his dolls. We didn’t take men against their will; that was definitely not our style. We came to ‘Silver’ because it was like going into an electronics store on Black Friday – tons of toys came to the bar in hopes of being chosen by one of the elder giants. I came here every Saturday night. I’d down about ten beers, get a little buzzed, and then pick some saliva-dripping young thing from the crowd to take home and rock his world. I had a certain look that pleased me – the innocent little preppy kid. There was something about a trust-fund looking young man in khakis and a button-down that made me want to flex and dominate all night long. My dream toy was a rich little brat that couldn’t earn his dad’s love because he was gay and I’d come along, literally sweeping him off his feet, and take him home to offer him the kind of love he so desperately sought. Blessing some young pup with the attention and the affection he eagerly needed made me feel like some kind of muscled Robin Hood spreading joy throughout the village. The universe blessed me with the ability to pump my huge frame into something bulging and monstrous – so I kind of felt obligated to share that with others. At the same time, it got my juices boiling so hot that I felt like I could blast a boy-toy all the way to the ceiling – just from the power of my gusher. That made it a win-win situation in my opinion. The toy I presently held in the air was like a wish come true. He had on an adorable pink Polo button-down (PINK!), some butt-hugging Chino’s, and loafers with no socks. Loafers with no socks – it didn’t get any better than that! He had on a watch that cost more than a Hummer and used a money clip with his initials engraved in it. It was like the bar Gods had decided to bless me with the perfect plaything. What clinched it for me was when I asked him what he did for a living and he got confused. I finally had to ask what his job was and the heavens parted with angels singing when he told me he didn’t have to work. I asked if he had a rich daddy and he simply nodded his head. I swear – that one little nod made my cock shoot hard. I asked if his pops would have approved of him being at the ‘Silver’ and he made me ooze lots of pre when he said no. I was by far the biggest daddy at ‘Silver.’ Other men who frequented the place were muscled and large – but my bulges popped out much more than any other regular patron. It kind of made me like Zeus at Mount Olympus – all the other gods looked up to me and gave way to me when needed. This particular night I had decided to come directly from the gym. I knew my sweat-covered body – now partially dried – would give off pheromones that would permeate throughout the entire bar. I would make everyone in the place go a little stiff just by walking in. I had also learned a long time ago that my testosterone-laden aroma made smaller men actually become light headed whenever I drew near. I loved that my daddy-ness could make toys weak in the knees. When I had entered the bar this evening, I paused in the doorway just to let all the heads that turned my direction have time to soak up all the muscled goodness. I counted a total of seven gaping mouths – only those in close proximity – fellas unable to hide their lust-filled shock. Forget about gaydar – I possessed something better. I had little-preppy-man radar. I could hone in on a cream-filled, Lacoste-loving, prep-school beauty quicker than most men could blink. It was like I had a sixth sense of which man in the room would love my senior-aged giant muscled body the most and who would please my particular toy fetish completely. I didn’t even scan the room once. I immediately picked up on the pup’s Polo-cologne infused scent even though the bar was completely packed. His smallness made me growl out loud – causing a group of toys standing by to actually quiver a little in fear. I quickly glanced at his petite hands – knowing that before the night was over I would beg him to interlock fingers and without even applying any pressure I would make him squeal in delighted pain. Oh fuck, he was gorgeous. A twenty-nine inch waist, about five feet five inches tall, perfect hair that was clearly cut every week, and size seven shoes – not even large enough for my big toe. And then there was the cherry on the top – a winter tan, obviously from a rich-boy trip to somewhere exotic. To make things even sweeter – the poor little dude was clearly nervous as a rabbit that stumbles into a den of foxes. There were three elder musclemen who had cornered him against one end of the bar – each with a ravenous look in their eyes. They smelled fresh meat and were surely plying the toy with beer in hopes he would soon choose a victor. I looked down at my ‘Daddy’s Got Muscle’ skin-hugging tank top, rolled my beefy hard pecs a couple times, and then headed over to claim my prize. Moses, with his measly parting of the sea, had nothing on me. As soon as I was about ten feet from the party happening at the end of the bar, the other three men either felt my presence or were overpowered by my pheromones before I even stood among them and they quickly moved away. One of them was clearly in mid-sentence, but it didn’t matter. They all knew the alpha was drawing near. The bartender had a beer waiting for me near the small pup as soon as I arrived – he instinctively knew where I was going to park my huge frame. I swear I could feel my balls gurgling with hot cum when I stood in front of the small prepster. He was so short his lips were even with my plug-sized nips. I made sure to stand close enough so he had to lean his head way back to look up at me. As it was, he could barely see over my protruding pec shelf. I reached out beside the dude, to grab my beer, and he actually flinched in fear. Oh fuck, he was already intimidated and I hadn’t done a damn thing. I had pity on the small thing and stepped back a little – just so he didn’t get a neck cramp. I flexed my gun purposefully as I took a giant swig of my beer – the dude’s eyes widening when he noticed that half the liquid in the bottle disappeared. I quickly calculated all the things that were perfect about this youngster. Skinny as a rail – check, flat and hairless narrow chest – check, arms that looked like twigs next to mine – check, nymph-like face that clearly couldn’t grow a full beard to save his life – check, and eyes the size of dinner plates because he was so freaked out by what was standing in front of him – double check. If I hadn’t been such a strong elder muscleman I would have been spewing something fierce just from all of his tiny perfectness. I towered over the toy. He looked like a one level house next to a skyscraper. And then there was the size difference – with him looking like Bruce Banner and I easily resembled the morphed-into Hulk when he became angry. Again, I looked at his demure manicured hands – obviously, they had never seen a day of hard labor. I knew they would feel so small, weak, and fragile in my big calloused hands. That thought sent a shiver down my entire huge body. Why did tiny hands turn me on so much? And thin, weak-looking necks – they made me feel the same way. My huge paw would almost wrap completely around the bird-like stem between his head and body. My mind imagined lifting him into the air that way – a thought that, again, almost sent me over the edge. It was clear by the look on his face he was on sensory overload. I got the feeling he had never been this close to such a huge muscle daddy before. His body had never seen the inside of a gym – that was a given – but it seemed the little rich boy had also never had the opportunity to be around such bulging muscles for any other reason, as well. He was like a kid let loose in a candy shop. He didn’t know where to let his gaze stick for longer than a few seconds. It was painfully obvious that he wanted to take in all of my hugeness as quickly as possible. I looked down, again, and noticed his little hands were trembling. The beer bottle he held was shaking back and forth a little. Aw, the toy was overwhelmed by big old me. I tensed my chest – making the pecs swell so much it cut off part of his view of my face. His mouth dropped open wide and he stopped breathing. I quickly released the tense – afraid I might give him a heart attack. I reached up with one finger and pushed up on his chin – closing his mouth, which made him remember to breathe. Seeing how huge my forefinger was next to his chin thrilled me almost as much as touching his smooth soft skin. Years of lifting and reaching my sixties had made my skin hard and leather-like, something other men seemed to love, but I got more excited by soft, un-muscled skin that seemed so weak compared to mine. If I asked this little dude to flex his gun I had a feeling there wouldn’t have been even the slightest bump to his biceps. I’m sure his legs were like sticks – tiny enough to be crushed by one of my hands. I had to again pull myself back from the edge – all of these thoughts were turning me on so much I was soon going to explode. I took another swig of my beer and finished it – again, causing my audience of one little man to be stunned. Another bottle was already waiting for me on the bar and this time, the dude didn’t flinch when I reached past his head. His eyes were glued to my humongous arm as I raised it to take a drink. Again, I flexed my giant gun just to give him a thrill. He was actually in control of himself enough to take a sip of his own beer. I was instantly pleased by how his little Adam’s apple bobbed up and down when he took what I would consider a tiny drip of his beverage. I could probably finish my ten beers before he even made it through one. Holy hell, everything about this little dude thrilled me beyond words. I finally decided it was time to speak and I asked him his name. I immediately oozed more pre-cum when he said, in what almost sounded like a pre-pubescent falsetto voice, that his name was Winston. A preppy name to go with the whole ensemble – that was just too much. I had a feeling he was a third or fourth, too – or, at least, a junior. He somehow managed to get enough courage to ask me my name and I kind of leaned down and told him to call me Big Poppa. His hands immediately trembled even more and I swear I saw his crotch twitch with excitement. My little one certainly had a daddy fetish and that made my night complete. I asked him his age and that’s when he told me he was twenty-one. That’s when I decided to shock him and told him I was exactly forty years older than him. As I said before, I knew this simple information would be almost too much for him to handle. I glanced down at his crotch and was rewarded with what I knew would be his response – a small wet stain from not being able to prevent pre-cum from spurting. It seemed we both had the same problem. I asked him if he thought his Big Poppa looked sixty-one and he couldn’t even answer. He was just too flabbergasted. I told him that when I was twenty-one I had been the arm-wrestling champ of my small town. I then told him I still held the title today. This made him take an impressively long gulp of his beer – but his hands were shaking even more. When he was done, I decided to play with him some more. I asked him if he liked older men and he, again, could only nod his head in response. I smiled – something that made him moan a little. I then asked him if he liked his men strong and this time he wasn’t even able to nod his head. His eyes got wider – an answer ‘yes’ if I had ever seen one and he was forced to take another sip of his drink. I was ready to take our new friendship to a new level. And that’s when I put my drink on the counter, reached down to grab him by the pits, and easily lifted him into the air. I could feel his feet kicking back and forth. Fuck, that turned me on. Even if he had wanted to escape, there would have been nothing he could have done to get away. I held the toy in my hands – a doll for my pleasure. I, again, marveled at how light the guy was. It was as if he had never even once come close to hitting his allocated calories for the day. I was pretty sure I weighed almost thee times as much as him. I had this sudden urge to hug him – to hug him really tight. I knew it would crush something if I did, but that didn’t make the urge go away. I simply knew better and didn’t do it. My thick fingers and thumbs seemed to stretch halfway across his chest and back. My little preppy boy seemed so fragile – like thin crystal or something even more delicate. His smallness, at the same time, made me feel enormous and much more powerful than I really was. Holding my toy in my hands – for I did now view him as MY toy – made me feel invincible, like a superhero. I had such a strong desire to take care of my toy – to protect him, take care of him, and do everything for him. God, the idea of him never needing a thing again – except those things I would give him - turned me on more than I could have ever imagined. There was something special about this toy. I couldn’t quite place it, but I had a strange feeling I would stick with this particular one for a long time – maybe even forever. I was overwhelmed by my sudden protective feelings for the little guy. I took a step forward and sat him on the bar. I moved my body in between his legs, grabbed my beer, and still I gazed down into his face – even though the height of the bar made him a lot closer to my level. This time, I took a really long gulp of my beer – emptying it quickly. Another one was sitting on the bar next to my toy before I even placed the old one down. Damn, it was good to know bartenders. The toy had brought his tiny looking hand up to my right biceps and he was feeling the mound as if he were handling some precious ancient artifact. I bent my wrist and tensed the arm – just to make it swell up even harder. His hand froze with his fingers pressed against my hard giant knob of muscle and he gasped out loud. I kept my arm tensed and he slowly started groping the biceps even more – like it was some kind of life force that gave him energy. I looked at how minuscule his hand looked next to my monstrous arm. His fingers turned me on so much – just because they looked so slight and weak. How did this guy not easily get broken or damaged? It seemed like a strong wind could have blown him away. All of these thoughts, however, only made me want him more. I wanted to be the beast to his beauty. I wanted my body to offer him tons of shade when the sun was beating down hot. I wanted to intimidate anyone stupid enough to bully or mistreat my little toy. I needed to be his muscle god and I needed it more than anything in the world. That’s when I did something I had never done with one of my toys before. I leaned in and kissed the man. Kisses were only saved for special people. I pressed my mouth against his and sucked in hard – hoping to inhale some of whatever it was about him that drove me crazy. His body seemed to deflate, so I exhaled quickly. I also ran my big hands up his back and pulled his body into mine – smashing his flimsy frame against all of my hardness. I could actually feel his hard cock poking into my tight-as-hell abs. To say the kiss excited me would have been the understatement of the year. I had never known emotions like this before. This little man, my new favorite toy, was slaying the big giant without doing a damn thing but be delicate. None of this made me feel weak or frail, though. On the contrary, I continued to feel more powerful than ever. I felt my hugeness in a new way. The giant wooden bar my toy sat on seemed small and fragile. Other big men standing near me suddenly seemed like Hobbits compared to me. Even my lovely toy seemed to shrink into something I could cuddle in my hands – like a kitten. Of course, all of this was only a feeling – but it was the most alive and the most energized I had ever felt in my entire life. It took all of my strength to pull my head back and separate our lips. I wanted to stay intimately connected to the little man, but I had a strange suspicion I would have quickly orgasmed. It was uncanny to feel so weak and, yet, so powerful at the same time. I looked down into the face of my precious toy and was enormously surprised to see him smiling. It was the first time he wasn’t shaking or looking scared. This made me happy. This made me feel even more powerful than I already did. Making this beautiful man smile seemed like the only thing in the world I was destined for. I smiled back – and it was the most genuine smile I had ever offered. I smiled because I felt happier than ever – ever in my entire life, and I had had a wonderful life so far. This adorable beloved little man made me feel like the luckiest man on the planet. I was lost in the black hole of complete adoration. I was now this little toy’s devoted protector. And that pleased me very much. His smile intrigued me – so I was brave and asked him what had brought such a lovely man into the bar on that particular Saturday night. I will never forget his answer. Winston looked deep into my eyes and said, “I had heard there was a beautiful monstrous older giant here who loved small men and I decided to come in and find out if I could win his heart.”
  22. teroyugi

    Gym Buddies (Furry)

    Gym Buddies Outside a small gym, the parking lot was quiet with only a handful of cars parked outside. A strapping young wolf was leaning against the wall to the right of the gym door. His name was Zen. The wolf had soft dark green fur from his snout, back, arms and the top of his tail while his chest to his stomach and the lower part of his tail was all white. He had a stocky build with arms large yet well-defined and thick pectorals that pressed tightly against his yellow T-shirt. The wolf’s dark blue jeans clung tightly to his powerful thick thighs, and highlighted the roundness of the wolf’s bubble butt. Browsing through his phone, he wondered what kept his friend so long. He looked down at his black duffle bag on the floor, and wondered if he should head home. He took out his phone and it showed that the time was 8 in the evening. His friend was late for their gym meeting. Just then, a dark blue convertible drove into the lot and parked right in front of the gym entrance. Zen’s bushy tail wagged excitedly as the driver, a tall blue quail, stepped out of the car with his green duffle bag. It was easy to spot the bird from a mile away for he had a unique black plume that took on the shape of a pompadour. The quail’s yellow eyes met Zen’s. He bounded towards the wolf hastily. Zen was lost in his own thoughts as he ogled his friend’s body. Dressed in a light green and barely-covering tank top, the quail’s broad shoulders and straight-back power stance oozed confidence. His titanic arms were as tall as a beer bottle and thick with veiny muscles. What really caught Zen’s attention were the massive pectorals that were just inches away from slipping over the tank top. The plumpness of the quail’s chest and his nipples poking out against the shirt made the wolf’s cheeks turn a soft shade of pink. Half-realizing that he was staring at the bird, Zen quickly looked down, but was taken aback by the thick mammoth thighs that stretched the bird’s shorts to its limits. “Sorry, sorry,” the quail said. “Leo had me look for some missing paperwork.” He scratched his head nervously. “Nah, its ok Marty. I just got here.” Zen said. If it was anyone else, Zen probably wouldn’t have been so forgiving. But Marty was special. They had grown closer as friends through the months of seeing each other at work. He was the bodyguard-slash-accountant for a rich tycoon snake, and Zen was the part time flower delivery boy. The signs were subtle but they were there. Their conversations at the door grew longer, and Marty even started holding the door whenever it was 9 A.M. just to greet Zen and have their morning chit chat. Zen still remembered the day before when he asked the handsome quail out to gym together. Thinking about it made his heart race the same way it did that morning. The wolf fumbled with his words like a pup trying to form his first sentence while sweating bullets, but looking into the quail’s face made the awkward moment more worth it. Marty took the lead and went into the gym, Zen following him, and they were greeted by a male crested porcupine wearing a navy blue collared T-shirt with the gym’s logo on the right of his chest. “Tell you what. To make it up to you, your first session today’s on me,” Marty said. “What? No! It’s just six bucks. I can afford it.” Zen pulled out his wallet and quickly paid his entrance fee. “You want to make it up to me, give me some training instead.” “Deal!” Marty said, winking his right eye. A tinted door to the left of the registration desk separated it from the workout area. When the two entered, Zen’s nose twitched at the heavy scent of sweat and light hints of musk in the air. It was surprising to the wolf how much bigger the interior was compared to the exterior. The entire left side was lined up with treadmills facing the wall and in another row behind them stoodthe elliptical trainers. And in the middle of the room were two abdominal exercise machines. On the far side of the room were the stacks of dumbbells of varying weights, two rowing machines to the right, and further to the right in a dark corner was the squat rack. Marty was leading them to the locker room which took them past a huge jet-black crow doing 220-pound barbell squats. Zen paused for a bit as he looked with awe at the grunting crow. The crow was twice the size of Marty in terms of muscle mass and was a foot taller. The crow bodybuilder had a bright red tank top that hung loosely against his muscular form, and a pair of skin tight black shorts. “I wish I could be that big someday,” thought Zen. After storing their belongings they were ready to start. Sitting on the row-slash-leg-press machine, Marty spoke to the eager looking Zen standing in front of him. “So you really have no idea what to do in a gym? I find that hard to believe for someone with your body.” Zen’s tail went limp and tucked between his legs. “Well…I do exercise sometimes, and, well…” His voice softened into almost whispers. “… it’s mostly ‘cause of a flower.” They exchanged awkward stares at one another. The only sound was that of the crow behind them grunting and the clanking of metal when he set the barbell down. Marty broke the silence. “Flower? Never heard of that brand of supplement before, I should try it one day. Anyways, we’ll start with some warm-up exercises. Get on it.” Zen switched places with the quail. With his bum planted firmly on the seat and his feet strapped onto the footrest, Zen looked with determination at Marty for guidance. “Hold the handle with your claws facing towards you. Start with pulling it all the way back towards your abdomen while pushing your whole body back with your legs. Then bring it up to your chest for a bicep curl. Do that for as many reps as you can.” Marty demonstrated by flexing his arms just inches away from the wolf’s snout. Zen wondered if the quail was doing it on purpose just to tease him. Regardless, Zen focused on his first set. At first his body felt relaxed like it was no challenge, but in the middle of the set his arms were burning and tension began to build up in his legs from the pressing. At the same time, Marty got on all fours on the floor and started doing push-ups. Zen felt great upon seeing his friend prepare with him. Once his set was done, Marty got up and gave Zen a pat on the back. “Come on, we need plates for the next one.” “Aren’t you going to use the rowing machine first?” Zen asked as he followed behind Marty to the rack of plates beside the crow. The bird turned to reply, “Later. I want to make sure you get your fundamentals.” Grabbing a pair of five pound plates for each of them, the quail demonstrated another routine. The bird raised his arms sideways while each fist that held a plate faced forward, perpendicular to his arms. He raised the plates until they reached his head and brought them down. “This is important because your rotator cuffs are related to your upper and lower body workouts. Then move them to the sides and swing them inwards. Give me fifteen reps.” Zen followed his mentor’s instructions to the T. All the while the wolf’s eyes were glued onto Marty’s chest. He was lost in the hypnotic motions of the quail’s pectorals, the way they stretched and bulged out with every swing of his arms. Their warm-up continued with squats, jumping jacks and other bodyweight exercises for around ten minutes. Zen could feel his chest growing warmer by the end of it. From the corner of his eyes, Zen noticed that the crow had been watching them between his squats and rest time. Choosing to ignore the suspicious character, Zen followed Marty to grab a pair of dumbbells.The quail grabbed one with three 22-pound plates on each side. Before Zen could even reach the same dumbbells like Marty,his mentor grabbed him by the wrist. “Whoa! Whoa! I know you’re all excited, but if this is really your first time you gotta start light. Don’t want to hurt yourself right? Go with the 15-pound ones.” The wolf’s pained expression expressed his discomfort with Marty’s lack of faith in his strength, but the quailwas the more experienced gym goer so Zen gave in. Marty lied on top of the available bench and said, “Now I believe you can build muscle just fine with a bench and a pair of dumbbells. So today let’s work on all three parts of the chest. We’re going to start with the bench press. First-“ Zen interrupted. “I know how to bench press. Dumbbell exercises are how I got into shape the first place. In fact I can bench as heavy as you.” Marty raised his left eyebrow, feeling a bit puzzled. “Alright then, show me what ya’ got.” Zen took over Marty’s place on the bench and relieved the bird of his weights. He positioned his arms at an exact ninety degree angle and the palm of his hands faced one another. Ready to show off his skills, Zen pushed the dumbbells up, the sides of his arms squeezing his pectorals as he held the weights up. The wolf held for a second and brought the weight back down close to his chest. He loved the tightness on the side of his chest and the rush of heat and adrenaline coursing through his veins. Zen repeated his lifts over and over again, only to pause for a brief second to rest before pushing harder. And giving all of his strength for the final rep, he completed his set of thirty repetitions. The quail stood watching by the side with his arms crossed and nearly jumped when Zen started growling and grunting. “What do you think?” Zen said, panting in between words. Marty shrugged. “Saw some form issues. Lie back down and let me show you.” The sweating wolf lied back down and felt the quail’s soft hands grip his arms. Looking up, Zen saw the quail’s thick chest over his face. Zen could barely see his friend’s face. Slowly he could feel his cheeks reddening as he started thinking of all the ways he wanted to grope and feel the bird’s chest; to make Marty moan with lust. Lost in his imagination, Zen couldn’t recall any of Marty’s tips on improving his form. Faking his understanding, the still blushing wolf asked for lessons on how to use the barbells. Marty was more than delighted to fulfill Zen’s request. Walking backwards the quail threw random facts about how to properly use the barbell. Zen just smiled meekly until he saw the crow from earlier was heading in their direction. He didn’t get to warn the bird in time,Marty slammed into a wall of abs covered in short black feather. “Woah! Sorry there big guy, I wasn’t paying attention.” Zen’s ears drooped at the sight of the shirtless muscle bound crow. The crow’s yellow eyes stared intensely at Marty. Was he going to pick a fight? “Coach Marty! You don’t recognize me no more? It’s me, Steve!” The crow broke into a huge grin and patted Marty on the back with such force that the quail lost his footing for a second. “Steve? Lil’ Steve? Holy stars you are huge! Did the muscle fairy visit you in the last two years?” Marty said as he grabbed the crow by the hips and pulled him into a tight hug. “Says the little egg.” Steve responded by locking Marty’s head between his chest and bulging arms. Zen looked puzzled by the sudden change in mood between the two. Then Marty called him over and introduced the crow as his ex-gym partner three years ago. Steve extended his thick right hand and Zen reciprocated the handshake. The crow’s grip was tight and powerful. “Nice to meet you. I’m Zen,” the wolf said. “So you’re Marty’s new pupil?” Steve draped his right arm over Marty’s shoulder. The thickness of his upper arm nearly encompassed the quail’s entire head. “Oh no, no. He’s just showing me the ropes. It’s my first time here.” “Cool. Well you stick with this bird right here and you’ll see some major growth. Like all this is thanks to him.” Steve raised his left arm and flexed. His already large upper arm hardened into a cannonball of muscle. Stepping away from the bigger crow Marty stated, “Pssh, you still have a long way to go Lil Steve. You might have the size advantage from good genetics but I still see a little pudginess.” Indeed, up close there was a stark difference between Marty and Steve’s musculature. The quail’s muscles were better defined while the crow’s body albeit large and meaty was more like an offseason bodybuilder. “Oh yeah? Well it isn’t all about hard washboard abs. Furs everywhere appreciate a huge beefy bird,” Steve said. “Well I think we need an unbiased judge to help us out. Zen, mind picking which one of us is the better looking muscle bird?” asked Marty. “Huh? Wh-why me?” Zen asked. Steve then entered their conversation, “It’ll be fun. Just sit there, we’ll put on a couple of poses for you, and you pick which one of us is better.” With a shy nod Zen agreed. The two birds stood in front of the squat rack. Their shirts were gone and they pulled back their shorts to expose as much of their powerful thighs as they could. Zen sat on the floor and looked up to the two titans starting their show. Both of them stretched out their arms and performed a front double biceps pose, the birds’ arms bulging as if their muscles stretched their feathered skins to the limit. Zen stared and for a brief moment, forgot to breathe because he was so awe-stricken. His tail wagged vigorously Next was the wolf’s personal favorite: the side chest pose. Even under the feathers, the striations on Marty’s well-muscled chest could be seen. In contrast, Steve’s chest didn’t have much definition, but the crow’s chest displayed a largeness that could make Zen want to bury his face in it. Plus the layer of fat helped give the crow’s chest an even-more rounded look. At this point, Zen couldn’t decide yet; though he would lean towards Marty, the two birds just showed off their built physiques well. Next was the rear lat spread, where each bird showed off their backs. The birds’ lats were so wide they could almost be mistaken for wings. Marty showed an ideal V-taper physique, while Steve had a more Y-like shape going on with the bit of gut around the crow’s waist. In his mind, Zen wanted to abandon all reason and just fondle both of their backs, running his hands along their muscles, but he needed to exercise restraint still. After all, his friend was counting on him to make an unbiased judgment. Just then, Steve suddenly waved his hands in the air and declared himself the loser. “Something wrong, Lil’ Steve?” Mart asked. “I know you’re not one that would throw the towel down so easily.” The bulky crow turned away from the quail to pick up his shirt. “Nah coach. Just remembered I had a very important date.” Turning his attention to Zen who was still sitting on the floor, the towering crow nonchalantly bounced his pecs with a cocky grin. “Hey pup, if you and coach are going to be regulars here why don’t we exchange numbers? Then we can gossip all night about each other’s claws.” Zen chuckled in response. “You guys go ahead. I’ll work on a couple sets here,” Marty said. The duo nodded in response and headed into the locker room with Steve leading the way. Once inside, Zen got goose bumps, noticing how eerie the empty locker room looked with its rows of red lockers. Out of nowhere, the massive crow in front of him made a quick turn, slamming his powerful arms against the lockers behind Zen. His mind raced to find answers. Did Steve suddenly turn into a killer? What was going on? The color on his face was drained away by fear. “Wha-what’s going on?” Zen managed to ask, his voice cracking near the end of the sentence. Yet all he got in response was Steve’s intense stare. Then the crow stepped back and broke into laughter. The sudden change in atmosphere perplexed him. “Sorry, sorry. Just messing with you, pup.” Steve took a deep breath and sat on a bench to his right. “But seriously though, you have a thing for coach, don’t you?” Zen’s tail retreated between his legs and all the blood rushed back into his cheeks the moment his brain registered Steve’s question. Hesitantly, the wolf approached the smirking crow and asked, “H-how did you know?” “Your tail was pretty obvious, kid. Word of advice, don’t play cards. Every time you looked at me your tail did a little soft wag, but when your eyes latched on coach that thing was moving fast enough to blow the weights away.” “Oh no… Shit! Marty’s gonna hate me now!” Zen wished a hole would just open up from the ground he stood on, wanting to hide his embarrassed self. Feeling his legs weaken, he fell to the ground, covering his face with his hands, trying to calm himself down. He wished that Marty didn’t notice, but he thought that if the crow noticed, what more his coach that was so close to him while all that was happening. That moment, the wolf felt an immense fear take over him and was on the verge of tears. Seeing the wolf in such a state, Steve felt like consoling him and placed a hand on Zen’s shoulder. “Hey, come on now!” Steve said. “We don’t even know if he did notice. Cheer up! Why don’t you join me for coffee instead? We can talk about it and have something to munch on.” “What’s the point? And didn’t you say you have an appointment?” Zen said. “It’s a fib, pup. And it’s better than just sitting here and moping about it.” Steve rose from his seat and walked towards the locker room door. “I’ll tell Marty you’ll be with me. Go hit the showers, pup.” Zen reluctantly dragged himself to his locker to take his toiletries before hitting the showers. As he thought about it, Steve did have a point. Better to leave and get things sorted out than to stay and make an already awkward thing even more awkward. Heck, who knew what could even happen if he faced the quail in that state. The shower area was one huge light-blue tiled room with four shower heads all lined up in a row on the wall across the entrance. As he walked, Zen enjoyed the cold tingle of the shower floor against his feet pads, his fur standing on end. After dumping his things on the bench opposite the shower head, Zen bathed himself under warm running water. With nothing but the sound of the running water echoing around the entire room, Zen felt a little calmer with the peace and quiet around him. As he showered, thoughts of Marty entered Zen’s mind. From the first time they met, the times Marty held the door for him, the times they chatted up until it was past nine in the evening, the subtle changes in Marty’s speaking when the quail was in a bad mood, the times the quail would flex without even noticing, all these flashed one after another inside Zen’s head and all he could do was let out a dreamy sigh. When he was shampooing, his thoughts shifted to what it would feel like if Marty was the one lathering the shampoo all over him, the wolf imagining the quail touching every curve of his body. Lost in his fantasy, the wolf failed to notice his surroundings and suddenly, found someone’s thick meaty fingers wrapping around his stomach, startling him. Zen panicked and tried to break free, but the one holding him was holding too strong. When the wolf took a second and looked at the mystery fur’s arms, he immediately recognized the shade of blue it had. “M-Marty?!” Zen said. Marty pulled Zen closer into a warm embrace, his cheeks pressing close against the wolf’s. “Shh. It’s alright. Steve called me here, but I’m glad it’s only you in here. Finally, it’s just the two of us.” “W-What?!” “I’ve been wanting to do something like this with you for a long time. But I’ve always held back because you’re my friend. Now, I don’t know. It just feels right and I took the chance. If you want me to let go, say it.” Overcome with happiness, Zen leaned back towards Marty and placed his arms on top of the quail’s, their fingers interlocking. “Don’t. Don’t let go, and don’t hold back anymore.” Marty’s left hand dug deep into the fur of Zen’s abs and he slowly rubbed along the tough ridges of muscles, while his right explored the wolf’s wide chest, fondling and squeezing each pec as if he was kneading dough, running his fingers along the wolf’s now-erect nipples. Every touch was slightly ticklish for the wolf, but it also sent jolts of pleasure throughout his whole body, causing him to grunt and moan. When Marty started to kiss him on the neck, Zen leaned a little closer to the quail and, kissed the bird on his beak, it was a strange but sweet kiss. The wolf was filled with the feeling of warmth, all of it cumulating in his groin. Zen’s thick member kept twitching as it slowly grew hard, eventually pointing to his abs upon becoming fully hard. When they broke the kiss, Marty noticed the quail’s dick was just as hard and pressing between the wolf’s ass cheeks. “Is that?” Zen asked, almost whispering. “Yeah. You ok with it? I mean, if you don’t want to…” Zen shook his head. “No no, it’s alright. Feels a bit longer than mine I’d say.” Marty grinned and turned the wolf to face him. He pulled Zen by his right palm to the second shower head that wasn’t turned on. Excited about what could happen next, Zen’s tail kept wagging. “You know, I did get kind of jealous that you were giving Steve so much attention back there in the weight room,” Marty said, holding both of Zen’s hands. “I thought that maybe I wasn’t good enough for you, you know?” Zen held the quail’s hands in return. “Never! I love looking at you! Always have! Well, uh, that sounds kinda…” Marty smiled. “It’s alright. Is there anything you want do?” “Well, I always wanted to…” The wolf then plunged his snout between the quail’s hefty pectorals. He took a deep breath, relishing the manly scent of sweat and musk from Marty’s muscles. His hands quickly explored Marty’s wide back. It was like running his fingers through a canyon of muscle. Every groove, every ridge made Zen’s cock twitch with ecstasy. As his dick met with Marty’s, Zen started to thrust his hips, rubbing his cock against Marty’s erection. Marty cooed in response to Zen’s wet nose being buried deep between his pecs. It was the first time that he had been touched like that before, and he was savoring every second of it. He whispered cues into Zen’s ear on where to touch. Overcome with a desire to please the wolf, Marty flexed his pecs, tightening his grip on Zen. “You really like me that much?” Marty asked, letting the wolf go a bit. “How’s ‘I’d jump in front of you naked if you asked’ sound?” Zen said, stopping his grinding. The quail laughed. “Well, I like you too, Zen.” Zen paused for a bit. “Can you say that again? Just want to hear those words from you again.” Marty then put his hand on Zen’s cheek and gently stroked it, him smiling at the wolf. “I like you, Zen.” “I… I like you too, Marty. For the longest time.” The quail leaned closer and gave the wolf a quick smooch. “So, wanna pick up from where we left off? My dick’s throbbing like crazy here.” “Gladly!” Zen rested his head onto Marty’s chest and started reaching for the quail’s back again, this time moving a little lower, reaching for the quail’s round bubble butt. The two small hills felt soft like touching clouds, but then with one flex, the quail’s butt hardened into two walls of steel. Zen looked up at the quail and grinned. “Show off!” “Anything for you,” Marty said. Marty then raised his bulging arms and performed a double bicep pose. That moment, something changed within Zen, as if a switch had just been turned on. The wolf got a little more aggressive and went mad with lust, licking the bulging mass of muscle like a hungry dog given a bone. His mind was lost with the thought of worshipping Marty’s body, just touching and licking every part of him. Marty, for his part, groaned in pleasure as the wolf got on all fours and licked his Adonis like body from his arms to his pecs, and further down onto his tree trunk thighs. But even when down there, he noticed that Zen wasn’t paying attention to his cock, as if the wolf was deliberately avoiding it. How he wanted the wolf to suck on his dick, to take in every single inch of it. And the way Zen teased him by avoiding it made his desire for him burn even more. Panting heavily, Marty grabbed Zen by the shoulders and pulled him back up, their pecs pressing up against one another. Putting a little bit of spit on his hand, he grabbed both of their dicks and started stroking them. Every stroke brought Zen closer and closer to the edge, and Marty was just as close. With nothing but the hissing of the shower water and their moaning and groaning filling the entire place, only one desire filled their minds. Still, the show wasn’t over. Letting go of their dicks, Marty bounced his pecs with a cocky grin to tease the wolf further. But Zen didn’t want to lose to the quail. With one hand, the wolf pulled Marty closer and started nibbling on the quail’s left pectoral, his other hand fondling and stroking Marty’s precum-drenched cock. His own cock was leaking just as much as his partner’s, causing a heavy flow of pre to drip onto the floor. With their desire for release finally overtaking their minds, Marty pushed Zen onto the wall as he made out with him more intensely, holding the wolf tight as he thrust his hips, rubbing their leaking and throbbing cocks together. Zen kept moaning Marty’s name, and this pleased the quail even more, increasing his jerking speed on both of their cocks. Zen, felt his legs start to wobble from the intense pleasure. He grabbed onto Marty’s hips and called for the quail to go harder, faster. Marty obliged and rubbed their hard members with greater vigor, causing both of them to moan and grunt even faster. It was then that the two finally felt the approaching climax. Holding even tighter, Zen shared one more kiss with the quail. Marty came first, his dick spewing shot after shot of hot cum onto Zen’s chest. The smell and warmth of Marty’s cum aroused Zen that he came with such intensity, he blew his load all over Marty’s chest. When the two finally calmed down from the massive orgasm they had, they shared another smooch, before laughing at each other, together realizing that at that point, they had become even closer and more than just friends. They looked at each other’s eyes and found in them a glow that they had never seen before in each other. Basking in the afterglow of their “shower time”, they nuzzled each other. Then out of nowhere, the sound of applause echoed from the shower room entrance, causing the two to stand up and quickly look at the source of the noise. There they saw with nothing but a short blue towel on was Steve, not even bothering to hide his massive boner. “Well that was a great show,” Steve said. “Man, you two were really pent up, weren’t you? Should have called me, then we could have turned it into an orgy.” The duo looked at each other then back at Steve. Sharing the same idea they grabbed the big crow into the shower and proceeded to give him his personal shower as rough as they could. It was all simple horseplay with them splashing water at each other and soaping each other’s back. When they were finally done, they went out of the gym and headed for the nearest diner for the biggest dinner they could ever have. All that lifting and personal time got them hungry that it seemed like they could eat the entire diner out of business. The trio talked for hours about how Marty and Zen first met and what it meant for them now to be together. Done with their meal, they had a brief walk along the streets, thinking about what had just happened today. As Steve left the two alone, Marty and Zen thanked the crow for helping them finally take that plunge and become more than friends. The end.