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Found 22 results

  1. If you don't know who Sean Reid Scott is, can you really call yourself a muscle-literature fan? He is a fantastic author who writes some of the best, realistic muscle worshipping stories you'll find. You may have read some of his stories in the past without knowing it, as he has worked under a few different aliases, such as Derek Flex and another one he has used on Amazon that I can't look up because my computer is email is currently being stupid. Most of his stories involved a closeted man meeting the huge bodybuilder hunk of his dreams (and ours). His stories are lighthearted, often romantic, sexy, and full of hyper descriptive muscle admiration. It was hard for me to choose one to post, so I started with this one: Camo Hat. http://musclestimulus.com/index.php/free-stories/148-camo-hat-complete Be sure to check all his stuff though. He even has several books published on Amazon.
  2. 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.
  3. One of my favorite subjects for big muscle guys are football coaches. If you enjoy these types of men as well then this story is right up your alley. This story was originally posted to the alt.sex.stories way back in 1996! But, it can still be accessed via Nifty. It was written as a chain letter with different authors contributing different parts. This was a more recent find for me and quickly went toward the top of my favorites list. I just wish the chain letter would've continued! THEMES: Athletics, Romance, Realism, Workouts https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/athletics/coach-chain-letter Enjoy!
  4. 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.
  5. (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.
  6. There’s a generous pop to my noticeable boner when the guy finally senses that I’m staring at him. It’s something like an elephant just climbed into a Prius and sat beside you. Something big and covered in muscles can’t go unnoticed for very long. The dude quickly looks around to make sure there’s no one near him that might be attracting my focus. A wink from me makes him freeze and actually quiver with excitement. He’s shocked to find out that the mountain of bulges is flirting with him. That’s when a pec bounce can cause a mouth to drop open wide and an already racing heart to skip a beat. I smile to make his knees go weak. A chiseled face with a two-day growth is like a neon sign pointing towards the scrumptious hard mounds of flesh popping out everywhere below. The delicious fur upholstering all of my hardness is clearly visible through my form-hugging white t-shirt. I realize I’m too hot for him to believe all of this is real – but it’s my smile that causes all of his doubt to disappear. I reach up to scratch one of my voluminous pecs – knowing the bent arm takes his kettle to the boiling point quicker than even an open fire could. Here’s where I get to make an important decision – realizing it will set the tone for the rest of the night. I can saunter over to him – thick-as-hell thighs causing me to waddle more than walk. This will almost make him piss himself, the mountain coming to him. Or I can stand there and wait – giving him time to calm the raging storm I’ve caused in his body and allowing him to prepare whatever adorable introductory remarks he has for his dream muscle daddy. I choose to wait – forcing him to cross that wasteland of disappointed souls who have realized I’ve already made my pick for the night. I come up off the stool I’m leaning on to let my full height and size cast an imposing shadow on him, blocking out all of the light from above. His Adams apple bounces strongly from the gulp caused by my towering presence. It’s like a kid standing before a New York skyscraper for the first time. I hold out my hand, intentionally letting its hugeness force him to break out in a sweat as he contemplates its power and the fact that it’s a precursor to something equally as large lurking down below in my pants. He’s confused – should he reach out to shake my big mitt or should he turn around and run, avoiding any displeasure foreshadowed by such an obvious difference in size. I’m reminded of my immensity and power when I grip his small, defenseless hand, quickly calculating enough pressure to thrill, but not crush. The jolt my light squeeze causes in his body is so perceptible I’m momentarily fearful he may pass out. It makes me instantly wonder if I unintentionally clasped too hard. I continue holding on, just so he can use my big hand for support. At any moment I might need to help him stay upright. I watch as my voice literally rattles his insides when I tell him my name. He’s expected it to be deep and manly, but the actual sound is much more impressive than even what he imagined. I’m still holding on to his small hand and he doesn’t even realize he’s been squeezing with all his might, hoping to try and emphasize his own manliness this close to my huge testosterone oozing body. I clamped down a little harder on his fingers just to make his eyes bulge out a little and his voice to go up an octave or two as he tells me his name. It’s surprising that his first words aren’t the expected ‘fuck, you’re so big’ or ‘wow, you have a lot of muscles.’ He actually asks where I’m from and what I do for a living. Intelligent questions from a guy working hard to not wince from my grip and forcing his gaze to stay glued to my eyes and not travel down to my mountainous chest or bulging arms. I’m starting to realize I chose well out of the sea of muscle whores ogling me at the bar. I let go of his hand, noticing the relief in his face, and let my big paw travel up his arm to land with a heavy plop on his demure shoulder. He tilts a little to that side. My thumb and fingers easily straddle his deltoid muscle and we both realize at the same time his small hand wouldn’t come close to doing the same thing to my immense shoulder. I get another joyful zing to my crotch as I recognize a fellow comparison junkie in my newfound friend. His mind has uncontrollably moved to thoughts of tiny biceps flexed next to gigantic ones and even grown-man thighs being dwarfed by relaxed, get-a-bigger-tape-measure guns. I smile broader when he finally cannot take it any longer and has to steal a glance at my upper torso. I let him take a long gander, knowing the front of his pants just got a lot tighter. I grasp harder with my hand, instantly making his gaze return to mine. He’s afraid I might continue squeezing harder and doesn’t fully understand why his brain hopes so. I pull my arm in a little, just to temporarily marvel at how easily I can make his body do as I please. I contemplate palming his head and seeing if I could lift him off the floor, but I realize that would definitely scare him off or cause him to have a messy accident. Suddenly, I become aware he’s asking me what I call the ‘gym-bo’ questions. Where do I work out? How much can I bench? What exercises do I do to get certain muscles so big? I debate for a second whether or not to tell him about the cute muscle bear gay couple I plowed in the sauna at my gym a few hours earlier, but decide it’s better if he thinks he’s my first fuck of the day. It’s always important to make a guy feel special. I pull his body even closer, loving how my one hand easily drags him a few inches. I can tell his questions are intended to be a subliminal message for me to ask him if he’d like to feel my muscles, but I decide to wait and finally make him say the request out loud and clear. I also don’t want to rush the evening. I want to have more fun with my puppet-man before I fulfill his long hidden fantasy for a domineering muscle daddy that toys with him into the wee hours in the morning. He’s now chattering away uncontrollably. His lust for ‘all things muscle’ has gotten the best of him and he can’t stop himself. I do what I know will shut him up the quickest. I tense my big arm at my side, bending it slightly to make the biceps bulge with intimidation. He stops mid-sentence, with his lips apart and then his tongue darts out like a panting dog. He somehow controls his body enough to whisper the words ‘can I feel it’ and I tighten my grip on his shoulder a little, pull him even closer to me, and say ‘have at it, kid.’ You would have thought I was the general of some awe-inspiring mega army giving the signal for attack by the way he pounced on my arm. His trembling fingers seemed to get some kind of electrical shock as soon as they touched my hard skin. He let out a childlike yelp of glee and started running his hands around my big gun as if he were trying to memorize every vein, indention, and bulge for future masturbatory moments. I told him to ‘slow down, tiger’ since the big thing wasn’t going anywhere any time soon and when it did go it would probably be carrying him out of the place. You would have thought I had just told him he had won a billion dollar lottery – the way he responded to the idea of me carrying him. So the little man had a lift and carry fetish, as well. That was good to know, since there were few things that thrilled me more than tossing some guy around the bedroom. I was so turned on by that thought I actually squeezed his shoulder a little too tight and he screamed slightly, but never stopped his intense caressing of my arm. I had to apologize to the guy and explain that lifting him later on would be the best foreplay I could think of. This seemed to please the little fella to no end. He pulled his body forward and brought his lips down to my biceps, pressing into my skin hard enough to bend his nose downward. He stayed that way for a good minute, as if he had frozen to my gun. Finally, he pulled back and stopped his lustful massage of my arm. I let the tensed thing relax. He then looked up at me and, laughing, asked if I was a top or a bottom. I smiled and said ‘what do you think?’ He said he thought all of my muscle could probably plow a mountain and I told him that was a nice compliment. With my free hand I grabbed his and guided it to my crotch, pressing his palm and fingers into the muscle I worked out the most. There it was, that look of shock I had come to love so much. He thought my man-tits were huge. He thought my arms were enormous. He thought my legs were swollen beyond measure. He was, however, not prepared to know that the size of my love muscle matched the rest of me. I kept my hand on his, so he couldn’t jerk his away in fear. When his fingers finally started groping with exploratory excitement I pulled away. His squeezing stopped momentarily when I mentioned I wasn’t fully hard – the idea that my substantial tool could get bigger and harder almost terrified him, if he hadn’t been so turned on. When a guy openly fondles your enormous cock in the middle of a bar is when you know he’s completely yours. This dude had brought his other hand over to my crotch so he could do some double fisted groping. My response to his kind work was making him a little worried because he was actually beginning to realize just how massive my plowing machine would grow. I told him I hoped he was ready for a sore jaw and ass tomorrow and he said the pleasure would be all his. I guaranteed him that not all of it would be his. I sealed the deal and finalized the catch by pulling him into my hard body, forcing him to turn his head upward to look me in the eyes. I brought my face down to his and gave him a kiss. When we stopped he was smiling and I asked him what he was thinking about. He told me he was imagining what I would look like in the morning with no shirt on. I suggested I carry him out of the place so he could go see.
  7. 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…
  8. Hypertrophie

    The Glow

    Jacob and Matt had been friends for a very long time. Both were gay, but Matt was lusting after muscular guys. Jacob with his small built could never have satisfied that desire. What Matt didn’t know was that Jacob had been in love with him for quite some time now and was getting desperate. He would have probably given up any hope of having a relationship with his friend if it wasn’t for the strange talisman his father brought back from one of his expeditions. He told Jacob that it had magical properties, but didn’t say what those could possibly be. Jacob tried everything he could think of to activate it, but nothing happened. Only when he fell into his bed, exhausted and defeated, thinking about his deepest wish, to give his friend all the muscle and power he lusted after, the coin began to glow. The next day Matt woke up and nearly screamed. A giant, massively muscular man stood before his bed, eyes strangely familiar, but with a face more handsome than Matt had ever seen in person. A thick neck tethered it to an extremely wide back and shoulders, and massive pecs with juicy nipples hang directly above a clearly defined eight-pack. Matt couldn’t help himself and his medium sized cock rose to full attention in no time. He just had to touch the stranger, feel all this unbelievable muscle mass… and then the person walked around the bed towards him and began to slowly stroke his dick. It was a wonderful feeling, as if he knew exactly how much of his massive strength he had to use to make it as pleasurable as possible. Matt didn’t even notice the glow spreading from his dick, until the tingling started. His body began to stretch, to fill with cut and defined muscle. He felt more powerful by the second. He became the stud he always wanted to be in no time, even his face felt like it restructured itself a little bit to achieve that goal. And then he saw his dick getting impossibly harder and stretching too. When the stranger stopped stroking him and the glow vanished, Matt had become a new man. He felt himself up, his new protuding chest and the deep tranches of his abs. He wanted to feel his new, more powerful tool as well, but the stranger stopped him. “Let me handle this.” “Jacob?” was all Matt was able to say before the other began to suck his dick and the glow returned tenfold…
  9. “Did you just order for me?” “I did. The menu’s in French, so I thought it would just be easier.” “Did you forget about these?” He was pointing to his veiny big biceps that bulged huge in his tight shirt. I stopped for a second to admire his gorgeous, hard, muscular arms. “How could I ever forget something that squeezes me until I almost pass out?” “These big powerful things don’t need you ordering for me. Just because I’m younger than you doesn’t mean I need to be taken care of. Our waiter may be French, but he speaks the language of huge arms. Trust me – he stared long enough to count all the veins.” “I doubt it. New ones appear every day.” “These are not the arms of a child is all I’m saying. I’m pretty sure anyone with good eyesight could easily tell who’s the top in this relationship. These arms make me the man.” “And what does that make me?” “My pet.” “Well, Mr. Man, this conversation is pretty childish. I ordered for you to be nice, not to make you feel inferior.” “Inferior? Again, I’ll point to my big arm. I don’t think there’s ever going to be a time when I feel inferior. When I’m holding your body against the wall with one hand and you can’t break free I’m pretty sure I’m not the one who’s inferior.” “God, that turns me on. Me squirming like hell and you just holding me there with no effort at all.” “It’s the arms, dude.” “I am not a dude. I wish you wouldn’t say that. It makes you sound so jock-ish.” “I am a jock, dude. Just look at the arms.” “I look at them all the time.” “Yeah, you do. What did you order for me, anyway.” “Well, if you’re the man, why don’t you ask the waiter yourself?” A big smile crept across his face. He raised his right arm like a school kid asking a question. The biceps bulged nicely beside his head. At the same time he raised his left arm into a biceps flex – making the muscle bunch up hard and huge. He didn’t take his eyes from mine. Instantly, there were two waiters there, racing to help him. He chose the guy who had taken our order, to the more than obvious disappointment of the other waiter. He lowered his raised hand, but kept the other arm flexed as he spoke. He turned and smiled at the guy. “May I help you, sir?” “Notice the arm gets a ‘sir.’ I’m so sorry to bother you, but could you tell me what this dude ordered for me. He can’t remember.” “Of course, sir. For you, he ordered two egg, cheese, and ham croissants and a low fat cappuccino. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” “No, thank you. You’ve been most kind. Would you like to feel it?” “Yes sir. May I please, sir?” The waiter was so excited the last part of this came out in French. It didn’t matter, however, the muscled younger man knew the answer was an enthusiastic yes. The waiter nervously reached out his small manicured hand and placed it on the huge arm flexed in front of him. The guy let out a few French expletives as he rubbed his fingers slowly across the hard, giant thing. He then let out a quick yelp, jerked his hand back, and took off for the back of the café. The flexed arm was lowered as the two men watched the waiter hurry away. “I hope he makes it to the urinal in time.” “It sounded like he didn’t. “They say Marilyn Monroe used to be able to go down the street and not get noticed if she wanted to. But if she wanted attention, she could take off her sunglasses, let down her hair, and swing her ass in a certain way to make people recognize her immediately. My arms are something like that. People certainly notice them all the time, but if I flex them – that’s when I get undivided attention. Arms always get the most votes for favorite big muscle. I think they show off a bodybuilder’s power and hard gains before anything else. One flex is all it takes. As I said, the arms make the man.” “They were certainly what I noticed first.” “Mainly because I was flexing one of the huge things in your face.” “There was that. I had also noticed you earlier on the dance floor.” “I noticed you, as well, drinking your dignified glass of champagne in a hot sweaty late night dance club. I figured you were in search of some huge, strong, big-as-fuck arms to take care of you.” “Watch the language, we’re not at home.” “Sorry. I forget. Anyway, I thought I’d let my arm be my pick up line, so I just walked up and flexed a big gun in your face and said hello. You actually dribbled a little champagne down your chin.” “Proving just how dignified I truly am. And you, my big muscled young friend impressed me to no end when I asked what your bulging arm would like to drink and you said a Bud Light.” “Hey, not fair. I was only twenty-one and had not been introduced to other kinds of beer . . . well, I did know about Corona, but I didn’t like it.” “A knowledge of beer is not needed when you have enormous arms of steel. I believe that’s the point you’ve been trying to make ever since I thought I was being kind by ordering your favorite breakfast in French . . . at a French café . . . in Paris.” “Well, when you put it that way, it was kind of nice, wasn’t it? I just don’t want you to think I need babying.” “My huge young man, every night you pick me up in your arms and easily carry me to bed like a toddler, why on earth would you feel that way. It should be me giving you grief about babying.” “I do like curling you as we walk up the stairs.” The younger man pointed to his big muscles again and mouthed ‘the arms make the man.’ The older gentleman took a sip of the coffee that had been delivered and crossed his legs to conceal the growth at his crotch. His young muscle boy knew exactly how to taunt him. The morning light coming through the nearby window made his tanned hard skin glisten and highlighted all the massive bulges in a very inviting way. One of the big arms reached down for what seemed like a small coffee cup in this particular hand but was actually a wide, tall cappuccino cup. This was a drink that the older man had introduced to his big friend. The man felt some pride in that fact. “You’ve got that superior look on your face again.” “I do not.” “Do I need to point at my arm?” “No. Please don’t. I’m trying to calm down.” “That’s impossible when these big guys are around.” The two massive arms went up into a double biceps pose – bulging into the air like the Alps. A waiter, standing nearby, actually gasped out loud and many patrons of the café turned to look at the flexed arms. Marilyn Monroe had needed to be noticed. The guy’s arms were truly magnificent. They showed off years of dedication in the gym and the kind of power usually reserved for giant bulldozers or killer whales. “What have I told you about flexing in public?” “Your mouth always says not to do it, but your crotch is always saying something else. Besides, the size of my arms should say I make the rules.” “And not the size of my bank account?” “Point well taken.” The bulging biceps came down and the younger man took another sip of his cappuccino. The café sort of went back to business as normal. All motion had previously frozen for a few seconds. The monstrous man did not look defeated in any way; he just knew the importance of financial stability. “Why are you suddenly so obsessed about being ‘the man’ in our relationship?” “I just want to make sure I’m carrying my weight in this romance.” “My dear boy, with arms like those you could carry all the weight in this and every other relationship in here.” “See, I recognize that what you just said was a compliment, but then there’s the fact that you called me your ‘dear boy.’ That feels condescending.” “It’s a term of endearment! And why on earth would I say something condescending to a man that can hold me in the air with one arm.” “Yeah, see what you did there. When you talk about the strength of my arm you call me a man. That’s my point.” The older man stopped and thought about this for a moment. His lover had a point. It was when the big muscular arm was holding him in the air that he felt the most submissive – totally defenseless. Being dominated by the young stud could turn him on faster than anything. It had been that way since that first night meeting at the nightclub. The older man always asked to be manhandled as foreplay. “As you have already said, point well taken. I do, however, want to make some things very, very clear. I call you boy because I love you and not to be derogatory in any way. I call you man because I view you as an equal in some ways and far superior when it comes to muscles and strength. I call you honey, babe, giant, freak, and monster because you usually deserve whichever one I happen to choose. And I call you ‘sir’ when I’m feeling submissive.” “That’s usually my favorite one.” “Mine, too. But let’s not forget that you have many different names you call me depending on the mood you’re in.” “Like what?” “If you want something monetarily, you call me ‘pops.’ If you want to cuddle, you call me ‘sweetie.’ When you want to dominate me, you call me your ‘little pet.’ And when you want hard, nasty, sweaty sex, you call me your ‘muscle pig.’ So, you see, all of your names are not so flattering, either.” “You always seem to like them at the time.” “I could say the same about you.” The breakfast had been delivered and consumed. The second cup of coffee and second cappuccino had disappeared, as well. The big guy was rubbing his right biceps teasingly with his left hand, flexing the hard gun as his fingers caressed it. There was a devilish smile across his face. The older man still had his legs crossed, because there was still a passionate fire at his crotch. “What would you like to do today, sir?” “Go back to the room and curl you with these big arms, my little muscle pig.”
  10. “Honey, I need to get a mixing bowl down. Do you have time to help me?” “No need to yell, I’m right here.” “Oh, I didn’t see you. What were you doing?” “Getting in a few lifts.” “The armoire or the iron table?” “Both.” “That’s my man. So, do you have time to help me get the mixing bowls?” I was standing in front of the counter near the fridge pointing up to the top shelf of the cupboards above. I was only 170 centimeters tall, so I either had to go out to the garage to get a stepladder or climb up on the counter. I didn’t feel like doing either if Cal was nearby. Cal was my husband of twenty years. We had met when I was twenty-two and he was forty-seven. I had come out of a store on a busy street in Santa Monica and found my car to be pinned between two large trucks. There was no way I could joggle the vehicle back and forth enough to get out of the space and the drivers of both truck were no where to be found. I must have looked pretty upset because suddenly, this guy in a suit had appeared beside me asking if I needed help. I told him I did, but I wasn’t sure if he could help me and then I explained the situation. Before I had time to say anything else, this man walked over and grabbed my BMW by the back bumper and above the wheel. In three quick grunt-inducing lifts the big guy had the back of my car sticking out towards the road, completely clear of the truck behind me. My shocked face amused him and he just said, “I like to lift a lot.” Four hours later, after Dr. Calvin Triggs, optometrist, had convinced me to grab a few beers with him, I was smitten in a big way. We moved in together two years later and then officially married when it became legal in California. Jump to later when he was sixty-seven and I was forty-two – I was still head over heels in love and he was still lifting and getting bigger every day. “Face the counter.” “Oooooh, I love it when you talk dirty.” I turned and faced the cupboards. Strong hands grabbed the sides of my waist and I was lifted upward until my gaze was even with the big mixing bowls I rarely used. “These shelves are really dusty. When’s the last time I cleaned up here?” “I lifted you up and down for about an hour to clean them last year.” “Oh yeah. I remember that. It was fun. I think it might be time to do it again.” “You should probably sweep under the armoire next time I curl its sides, there’s a lot of dust balls down there, too.” “Good idea. Speaking of lifting, Randy, the mechanic, says you probably shouldn’t be lifting the back of my car anymore. He thinks it’ ruining the shocks.” “Randy, the mechanic, says that only because I don’t let him watch me lift the car. He’s jealous of you.” “I still think you’re wrong, Cal. I don’t think he’s gay.” “Well you don’t see the way he stares at my arms when I bring my car in for check ups and he’s always pleading with me to lift something while I’m there.” “He could just be a strength and muscle junkie. That’s not the same thing as being gay.” “You’re all of the above, tiger.” “Point well taken. He might be gay.” “Mind you, I’m not complaining. I love holding you up I the air, but are you going to get that mixing bowl or can I start doing a few reps with you.” “I’m getting it, I’m getting it. Besides, you always complain I’m too light for lifting.” “Not since we bought that weighted vest you wear when I lift you. That gives me a hell of a pump.” “Yeah, but it gets uncomfortable after about forty-five minutes. I’m ready to come down.” As he lowered my body, Cal brought my ass to his face and he bit down on my right cheek, holding me in that spot. “What are you doing?” “Afternoon snack” His face was muffled against my butt, but I understood him. He turned and carried me over to the huge middle island that dominated our kitchen. He knew I was making his favorite – apple pie – so he wanted to help. For the next few minutes he carried me around the kitchen, my butt still filling his mouth, and I gathered different items for the task at hand. Finally he placed me on the floor with all the supplies spread out over the island. He then pressed his body against mine, his raging hard on felt so inviting pressed against my ass. “How can a man at sixty-seven be so insatiable?” “How can a man at forty-two be so adorable?” His bulging biceps pressed against my sides as he wrapped his arms around me and started playing with my nipples through my shirt. He had his chin resting on my shoulder, so his face was close to my ear. “How about we make that afternoon snack into some afternoon delight, young man.” “Dr. Triggs, I am making you an apple pie. Can’t you control that libido of yours for even two hours? Why don’t you go lift something? That will keep you calm for a little while.” “That hard thing pressing into your butt would like to do a little lifting.” I turned my face and kissed him on the cheek. I then stuck my tongue in his ear, something I knew he’d find gross and make him pull away. “Aw, yuck. Why did you go and ruin the moment!” “Because I want to please my big man with an apple pie. That’s why.” “I do love my pie.” And with that he left the kitchen. I knew he’d be in search of something to lift. I counted to five out loud – anticipating what I’d hear next. The door to the garage opened on cue and I knew my husband was going out to curl the back of my car a few times. My BMW weighed a lot more than his Prius, so he got a lot more satisfaction in lifting it. Dr. Calvin Triggs had the body of someone in his twenties. Big massive thick pecs hung off his body in that way that made people beg him to always wear polo shirts – well, it made me always beg him. His biceps, un-flexed, were three times bigger than mine. He wore the same size pants he wore in high school because the state-wrestling champion had never stopped working out since he won the title all those years ago. No wonder he had been able to move my car so easily that afternoon in Santa Monica – the man had been lifting heavy weights – in and out of a gym – since he was in junior high. I had caught on early in our relationship that Cal had an addiction. It wasn’t drugs. It wasn’t porn, although he did love watching videos of smaller guys worshipping the big bodies of larger men. And it wasn’t alcohol. It was actually more intense than all of those. Calvin Triggs loved lifting. Yes, it was a healthy addiction, but it could also be infuriating. I found out very early in our relationship that he needed his boyfriends to be okay with suddenly being lifted in the air without any warning. It could happen anytime, anywhere. I had been lifted on the dance floor of so many clubs I’d lost count. Cal always used the excuse of getting me to look for our friends, but I knew it was really just because he wanted to pick me up. The park was his favorite place for curling and overhead presses. He always said I was much more fun to lift than a barbell. He bought me a special belt that enabled him to lift me with one arm, as well. He’d squat down, grab hold of the belt near my crotch, and hoist me up in the air – followed by a few one armed reps to my stunned awe. He’d also do chest presses with me in bed almost every morning. I’d complain that I needed coffee first, but he never listened. One day, I asked him seriously why he never listened to me when I pleaded for him to not lift me at certain times and he responded that the hard-on in my pants always said I enjoyed it as much as he did. He was right, of course. Deep loud grunts from the garage caught my attention. I hadn’t reached a point in my pie making where I couldn’t afford a short break. Watching Cal lift was still one of my favorite things in the world – almost as much fun as when he was lifting me. I opened the garage door and the back wheels of my car were about 65 centimeters off the ground. My husband had taken off his blue-checkered dress shirt and every possible muscle in his upper torso was bulging and gleaming in the light because it was covered in sweat. Thick snake-like veins streaked across his biceps and forearms. He was gritting his teeth because of the effort, but there was a big smile across Cal’s face. He knew I’d be out there to have a look. He always said that one of the main reasons he asked me to marry him was that he knew he’d never find someone who liked being lifted or watching him lift more than I did. I didn’t know if that was true, but I certainly did enjoy it. His white hair was a little out of place and it gave him this wild, unkempt look that I liked a lot – especially when he grunted loudly from the strain. “Come feel them.” He spoke in a strained voice. It was probably his third lift of the car. That was more than likely his last. A sixty-seven year old man picking up the back of a BMW three times was more than impressive, but my big man wished he could do it a lot more. He fantasized about super strength all the time and his fetish fueled his lifting, which – in turn – fueled his growth. And that made me very happy. He held the car in a curl at chest level so I could grope his hard-as-hell biceps for a minute or two. I could tell the strain was getting to him, so I backed away and let him lower the car. He dropped it when it got about ten centimeters from the floor and the back of the car bounced a little. I gave him a look, reminding him what Randy, the mechanic, had said about the shocks. His gorgeous chest was heaving up and down and he was breathing as hard as a bull after a stampede. He walked over to me, grabbed me by waist and lifted me until my face was even with his. He then plastered his lips against mine. Cal was always super horny after lifting something really heavy. It was like the best foreplay ever. I knew he wanted to throw me over the trunk of my car and have his way with me, but he clearly remembered I was making a pie. “God, I love picking you up. I’ll always love it.” “Probably not as much as I do.” “I wouldn’t be so sure, tiger.” “I like watching you lift my car.” “Really, what about the ever-wise Randy, the mechanic, and your shocks.” “To hell with Randy, the mechanic, and my shocks. Feeling this pump in your arms and that pump down below is too hot not to let you lift away.” “It does make me harder than iron.” “Lifting anything gets you hard, Dr. Triggs.” “True, but I get especially hard when it’s your car.” “So that’s what I feel below your waist.” This made him laugh. He gave me another kiss and then put me back down on the ground. He grabbed his shirt and we started back inside. I knew he’d go to take a little cat bath before he re-dressed. He didn’t like his shirts to smell like sweat. I didn’t mind one bit, but it bothered him. I followed him into the bathroom and watched him wipe his big body with a wet washcloth – spending some extra time in his gray-haired manly pits. That was a place my tongue liked to visit quite regularly. “I was thinking. Maybe it’s time to add on a gym so you could have a place to do some proper lifting.” “Aw babe, that’s a nice thought, but you know I don’t want to lift regular weights. I do that at the club five days a week. When I’m here I either want it to be you squirming in my arms above my head or something big, like the armoire or the car, so it makes me feel like superman. Let this old man live out some of his fantasies, please.” “Wait, wait, wait. I was thinking we could make it an outdoor gym, with a retractable roof. But more importantly, I was thinking we could get different things for lifting. Concrete blocks they use for traffic control, barrels full of cement, heavy steel girders and things like that. I was thinking it could be an early birthday present for you.” I swear the man’s nips popped out hard and thick from the excitement. I’m surprised they didn’t make a noise. I had never seen the particular devilish grin that appeared on his face. I could tell he was imagining himself lifting concrete pylons and kegs filled with iron scraps. I had done it. I had thought of something to make my older muscleman happy. I had thought of a gift you could give the big man who had everything. “I was also thinking we could retire my BMW to the gym, too. It’s time for me to get a new car. That way, you can lift it anytime you’d like and we don’t have to worry about Randy, the mechanic. What do you think?” “I think you have just made me the happiest guy in the world.” “Well, that’s how you make me feel every day.” “I need to pick you up, tiger.” “I thought you would.”
  11. He started unbuttoning his shirt as he spoke. I held my breath in anticipation. I had been dreaming of this moment for a long time. “Looking back, now, I can pinpoint the moment, son. I was forty-six, overweight, a major couch potato, and just a shell of a man. I was at work one day and I overheard two co-workers talking about me. It was two of the secretaries, who I considered friends. They talked about how they felt sorry for me because I seemed to live such a drab existence. They said I was the best number cruncher in the business, but that I wasn’t any fun. And then they said what ended up hurting and helping the most. They said it was quite clear I didn’t like myself . . . or respect myself. That conversation gnawed at me constantly for the entire day. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get those last words out of my head. That night, after a pint of rocky road ice cream, I went and stood in front of a full-length mirror in my bedroom – totally nude. And as I stared at myself I realized it was true – I didn’t like what I saw. And I certainly didn’t like how I felt inside. It was that moment that something awakened within me – there was some kind of seismic shift that made everything change.” By this point I could see part of his smooth-as-a-baby’s-behind voluminous pectoral muscles and the nice deep divide between them. The shirt dangled there like a curtain partially hiding some tremendous theatrical surprise. I was scared my mouth would soon start drooling. “The next day was Saturday and I was at a gym two blocks from my house by six that morning. I had never stepped into a gym in my entire life. There was an early morning trainer already there by that time, so I was assigned to this huge jovial guy named Cesar. One of his first questions to me was what I hoped to accomplish by working out and I had answered with tears in my eyes, ‘I want to like myself. I want to be a fun person again.’ This answer seemed to blow Cesar out of the water. I think he had expected something like ‘I want to be healthy’ or ‘I want to get bigger.’ I think the big man recognized a little of his old self in my answer and he immediately took a liking to me. He told me that he could work on making my ‘outside’ more fun, but that I was going to have to do all the ‘inside’ work on my own. He said having a rocking hard body helped, but it was never the answer to happiness. I knew he was right, but I said, ‘I just want to like what I see in the mirror.’ Cesar said to give him two years and we’d get there.” He held out his arms – indicating he’d need my help getting the dress shirt off of his huge frame. I pulled on one of the cuffs as he pushed the shirt off his shoulder. We then did it on the other side, too. I beheld my boss’ huge chiseled upper body shirtless for the first time. I felt my head go very light and the room started spinning. I reached out to steady myself against the back of a nearby chair. If he had noticed my temporary muscle-induced vertigo, he didn’t acknowledge it at all. He was a polite man and would not have wanted to embarrass me. “Cut to six years later and after never ever missing a day of working out since then I have become the fifty-two year old man you see in front of you. And, for the record, I really like taking off my clothes and looking in the mirror.” “I can see why,” I replied – still quite dizzy from the splendor that was him. “I still train with Cesar most mornings, but I can now lift a lot more than him. He calls me the ‘Alpha’ and takes credit for all of my growth. However, he always says the ‘inside’ changes were because of my own hard work. So the point I was making is that you’re never going to know if a ‘moment’ will be life changing or not until you’re past it a little. Take this moment, now, for example. We both just happened to be working late. I happened to walk up on you as you were looking at hot men on Grindr in the break room. That got me thinking about how nice it would feel to have that gorgeous mouth of yours plastered on my pecs, which has led to this exact moment, now – me standing in my office with my shirt off and you looking like a kid in a candy store. So, be careful, stud, what you do in this moment can have major ramifications in the future – both the near future and the far away future. I’m just a big muscle daddy standing in front of a young man asking him to worship him, but it could turn into so much more. Take a moment to decide, if you need to, kid.” “My life changing moment came two years ago, sir, when you hired me for this job. We sat in that conference room down the hall and chatted for two hours during the interview. I didn’t want it to end, because staring at your body in that tight shirt pleased me so much. I also couldn’t have stood up from the table or the front of my slacks would have given my lust away. Deciding to work here was one of the best decisions in my life – even for a youngster like me. I’ve worked hard in hopes that you’d notice me. I’ve waited patiently for this moment, right now.” “It sounds like a decision has already been made.” The Flash couldn’t have gotten his mouth on the man’s chest faster than I did. I had dreamed of – and beaten off thinking about – that luscious protruding pec shelf for two years. I had taken so many secret photos of that bare chest during our company’s beach volleyball outing that I had been able to memorize the veins, the exact placement of the jutting nipples, and the incredible thickness of both massive mounds. I immediately sounded like a shed full of pigs chowing down on some freshly thrown grub. The force of my sucking, intensified by dreaming of this moment for two years straight, caused my boss to gasp loudly, which turned into an even louder long moan. Hearing him get excited because of something I was doing to him was like throwing gasoline on an open flame. The passion of the moment multiplied a hundred fold. I sucked like a madman – which was surely going to leave big mouth spots all over his enormous chest. “Aw hell, young man, you make me want to crush something big!” Vein-covered gigantic biceps wrapped around my shoulders and back, pulling me even more tightly into his much bigger and much harder body. I simply continued to suck – wanting to give the man the kind of pleasure that could only lead to an explosion. The bald headed behemoth continued to let out copious amounts of expletives in between deep guttural moans, which actually sounded more like growls. This only fueled me on more – the idea that something I was doing would give him pleasure made me feel like a superhero. I took time – even in the midst of my sensation overload – to enjoy the moment. To appreciate the physical payoff of a man’s years in a gym, to soak up the comfort and security of such a strong hug, and to admire the intense joy the man brought to all of my five senses. He was a fifty-two year old muscle god and I was his adoring worshipper. I was fully aware of the yet to be unleashed power in his arms. He held me tightly, but I could feel how he only used a fraction of his full strength – so he wouldn’t do any permanent damage. My blood boiled even more as I imagined the amount of weight he was able to push around in a gym. Suddenly, the monstrous limbs surrounding me squeezed tighter and the man leaned backwards – causing my feet to shoot off the ground as he tightly held my smaller body a foot from the floor. “I’ll give you about ten hours to stop that sexy-man sucking, kid. You’re making me feel invincible – like even more powerful than superman. This is the kind of pleasure I’ve dreamed of ever since I hired you. I’ve wanted to smother you in my enormous muscles for forever. You make me want to take on an army!” I knew this would end up being what he had referenced before – one of my moments. Hearing the big elder man talk this way was better than anything else in the world – well, anything that didn’t involve him doing things to me. I had a feeling we were going to have a few more important moments in the coming hours and in the coming years. I became his man right there in that tight-as-hell hug with my feet dangling in the air. So many moments in my life had simply been a pre-cursor to this moment. My hard-ons in appreciation of muscle magazines, my endless internet scrolls through muscle worship videos, my childhood lust for Lou Ferrigno in ‘The Incredible Hulk,’ my numerous one-night stands because a guy’s arm stretched the material of his shirt, and my endless hours daydreaming about this man at my desk – all of it led to right here, right now. “Kid, I have a feeling this moment is going to be even more special than the day I started lifting. Holding you in my big arms feels better than I ever imagined. I’m going to make sure you never have a desire that isn’t met. I want you to be the happiest lad on earth.” “I already am, right now, in this moment, sir.”
  12. “Jack?” I asked the tower of muscle and masculine power standing before me, “is that really you?” Jack had always been the bigger one of the two of us, dwarfing me in nearly every way. But I never had been jealous of him, our ideals were too different for that: He wanted to become a leading rugby player, I wanted to study physics. We had been friends since elementary school even though our differences were getting noticeable soon after we first met. But don’t get me wrong: Neither did he become just another stupid jock, nor I yet another geeky nerd. We compleated each other, me helping and enlightening him about the wonders of the universe, him getting me to work out at least so much that my physique could be described as “athletic”. We both even went to the same university later. The only downside of our relationship was that I just couldn’t bring myself to be honest about my feelings towards him. I could clearly see that he loved me (or at least had a strong crush on me), but I was only into girls sexually, making it difficult for me to handle those feelings. I didn’t want to lose my friend and if I had been gay I would have started our relationship as soon as possible, but that sadly wasn’t the case. Adding to that was my constant failure to get with girls I felt attracted to. They liked my body (and some even my mind) and I had an active sex life, but I never felt any emotional attachement to them and thus the sex got boring and repetitive fast until I just stopped having it altogether. To be honest, I only ever felt such a connection with Jack, thus I spend more and more time with him instead. But that slowly became equally unfullfilling in that I just couldn’t give him what he wanted and he was getting more and more desperate because of that. Finally we talked about it, argued about it and in the end he left my flat, clearly heartbroken after I told him just that, that I was unable to love him like he loved me. I didn’t hear from him for quite some time and he didn’t pick up his phone or answered my whatsapp messages. That was until today. Someone had surprisingly knocked on my door. But the only thing I saw when I opened it were huge abdominal muscles, shadowed by two massive pecs wider than the door frame. When I looked up I could barely make out an extremely handsome face that looked similar to Jacks but was harder, with a stronger jawline and a demanding, powerful look on it. “Yes it’s me. May I come in?” His voice was much deeper and more sensual than I remembered. “S…sure, step in!” I said, still baffled by the display in front of me. He wiggled his giant mass through the door, barely making it, then crashed on my couch, which nearly broke in half because of it. “What the hell happened to you?” I asked without giving him time to answer, “And where have you been? I’ve been trying to contact you for a month now!” He didn’t answer, just gave up barely enough space on the couch for me to sit in and waited. I sighed and sat down besides his huge frame. His arms alone were thicker than my upper body. There also was his scent: It was thick and musky, but somehow entrancing. It made me feel slightly light-headed just sitting near him. He looked at me, now much more friendly than before and said: “Look, I can’t explain everything in detail, but the point is that I needed time to think about what you said. At first I came to the realization that it was pointless chasing after you and that I should probably stop seeing you. But then I found these...” He showed me a bottle with red pills. “...on the internet and at first I thought they were just a total scam. But they provided free samples, so I thought: ‘Hey, why not?’ I only had to take the first sample to see the difference immediately. You know that I always wanted to be really muscular, right? And when I woke up the next day looking like a freaking bodybuilder I just couldn’t stop myself. I bought as many of these pills as my finances allowed and took most of them in a single day. The transformation was painful, but afterwards I looked like this, so it was pretty much all worth it. What I didn’t know then was that it had changed more than just my muscles: My cock and balls got bigger too. And how! Just look at this monster, even my trousers can’t really hide it. My testosterone levels must also have been increased a hundredfold, I couldn’t do much for the first two days after my growth but splattering the walls with all the cum produced by these huge bull nuts. I couldn’t stop myself. These muscles, this huge power, it was all just too intoxicating. And then my mailman made the mistake bringing me the second set of pills I ordered directly to my door. I opened the door for him and really tried to contain myself, but once he saw and smelled me he just tore my briefs open and sucked on me as if his life depended on it. I just couldn’t help myself, I unloaded into him without putting up much resistance. And that’s where I discovered that not only does my scent slowly but surely drive everyone wild (some faster than others apparently) but my cum had changed too. I don’t know why, I’m not a science expert like you, but the mailman just exploded out of his clothes. He became nearly as much of a mass monster as I did. And while he was married to a loving wife (as he told me later on), he just couldn’t get aroused by her anymore. I don’t know what exactly happened to him afterwards, I guess he quit his job. But the point is that I found the solution to our problem. Speaking of which, I see that you have breathed in enough of my scent already. Don’t hide that erection, give in to your lust and we can finally…” Whatever he said afterwards was lost to me since I was already licking and sucking on his massive rod at that point. The only thing I do remember after that is the huge fountain of his cum pumping into me, changing me. That has been three weeks ago. I can’t find any clothes that would fit me anymore, but I’m ok with that. Actually I’ve never felt better. Jack was right, this did solve our problems. We are both huge muscle freaks now with cocks as long and thick as our forearms, fucking each other senseless every other hour. And we love each other dearly, finally fully compleated by each other.
  13. 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.
  14. 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.
  15. Who knows when or what causes a friendship to blossom into so much more. Sam and I had hung out in the same crowd for about five years. In the last year and a half we had actually started spending a lot of time doing things just the two of us. It was a comfortable friendship – going out for drinks, catching a movie, grabbing a bite to eat, and stuff like that. We weren’t similar in too many ways - he was into sports and a gym rat trying to grow big while I was working on my doctorate in Shakespearean Sonnets. Yet, he had somehow gotten me to actually like watching rugby championships and he had become a huge fan of the Tony Awards – not wanting o miss one second of Broadway’s biggest night. We also both had a secret love for romantic comedies. We had been forced out of our rom-com closets when the local independent theatre had a special cram packed holiday screening of ‘Love Actually’ and our assigned seats ended up being right beside each other. After trying to find a million excuses of why we were there we both eventually confessed up to our guilty pleasure. It was a cold Saturday night in November and Sam was spending the evening at my place to finally marathon watch and prove to each other which was a better movie – ‘When Harry Met Sally’ or ‘Sleepless in Seattle.’ I was a big old fan of the Tom Hank, Meg Ryan heartbreaker turns happy film, while he said Meg did her best stuff with Billy Crystal in the multiple year spanning classic. We both knew the other guy probably held the two movies in equal esteem, but the debate gave us an ‘out’ for having the movie marathon, pasta dinner evening, anyway. We had finished dinner, finished the movie, and were presently sitting on the sofa finishing what was the second bowl of popcorn for the evening. The conversation lulled a little and our hands touched as we grabbed for popcorn at the same time. The quickness and the force with which we both pulled back our arms was immediately funny and intriguing at the same time. We both noticed it. “After you,” I said – glancing at him and then looking at the television – black because it had been turned off a while ago. “No, I insist. You first,” Sam responded – and I could tell he was still looking at me. “You’re the guest,” I said, turning back to him and trying my best to not show that this little stupid exchange had really wrecked me. “Surely, I’m beyond guest status,” he said and we both laughed. “Yes, yes you are,” I agreed, reaching in to get a handful of popcorn. Looking back on the evening now, we are able to acknowledge from that moment on our conversation turned into what would surely be labeled the horrible dialogue from a very bad porno movie, but when you are in the budding throes of new passion you simply are unaware . . . or you simply don’t care. We both think – with a better script – the evening would make for a great romantic comedy. Sam started us on our trip into the world of poor screenwriters. “I pulled a trap muscle in the gym, today. You wouldn’t mind massaging it a little, would you?” he asked. “Of course not,” I replied, “If only I knew what a trap muscle was.” This made him laugh – something that had never made my stomach do leaps until that moment. I forced myself to not smile uncontrollably – something I always did to cover up my nervousness. Sam pointed up to a knotted mass of muscled next to his neck – bulging noticeably upward under his shirt. I reached up, hoping to hell he did not notice that my hand was shaking and grabbed hold of the hardness under the fabric – shocked at how big and stone-like this particular part of his body felt. I definitely knew I did not have traps that were noticeable. At first, it felt like I was trying to knead concrete – and then I realized I’d have to use a lot more pressure than I had anticipated. I gripped his trap muscle harder and started squeezing strongly. He winced a little and let out a little moan. I immediately stopped. “I’m sorry, does that hurt?” I asked. “In a good way,” he replied with his eyes closed. “Keep going, I can tell it’s going to help.” I squeezed again – even harder than before and he emitted a low ‘yeah’ and eased toward me a little. I reached up with my other hand and gave him a massage with both of them. This seemed to increase the pain for him – judging by the way h winced, but he certainly sounded like what I was doing was pleasurable. “Get up on the sofa behind me,” he said, “So you can get at it from a better angle.” This seemed totally logical and there was nothing weird about m sitting with his back between my spread legs a few minutes later as I gladly gripped both trap muscles with my hands and squeezed as if my life depended on it. I could feel myself wanting to give Sam the massage of his lifetime. I wanted him to keep making the loud pleasure sounds that were presently escaping his mouth. I was so intent on my job I hadn’t even realized I was now fully hard in my jeans and pressing my crotch against his hard muscled upper back to give myself some more pleasure. “The material of your shirt keeps getting in the way,” I seriously said in all innocence. “Why don’t you take it off?” He leaned forward and had the thing off so quickly I almost wondered how it had happened. He leaned back against me, as if even a slight separation of our bodies might make us lose momentum for whatever this was turning into. We were both aware of how much all of this was turning on the other guy, but that really didn’t enter into our consciousness fully. We just wanted to continue moving forward and see where all of this led us. “God, your hands feel so good, man,” he said – and it sounded as if he were lost in some kind of trance. “Your muscles feel good, too,” I said – without any hesitation and without even thinking about it afterwards. Sam brought his arms up into a double biceps pose. I’d never seen him do that before. His arms ballooned up with muscle. I moaned out loud and slid my hands onto the big guns below me. He actually gasped and his body shook as I groped the big mounds. “Yeah, feel those big things, man. You like my arms, don’t you?” Sam said, and I swear it sounded as if he were some other guy – all cocky and masculine. “So much,” I said, softly, and noticed my answer made him shake again. I looked down and saw that his crotch was packed with something big and hard, just as mine was. His entire upper body seemed so huge, so powerful. I was entranced with all of his muscles. My right hand moved to his bulging triceps, to stead myself as my other hand moved from his biceps down to hi massive pec – letting his nipple be teased between two fingers. He was watching my hands closely – clearly loving the way I was making him feel. I pressed in harder, hoping to make his steel-like body feel my adoration. His pleasure moans told me I was succeeding. He turned his face upward, letting the back of his head bump into my raging hard-on. His eyes told me what to do. I brought my lips down to his – while he continued to flex and I continued to grope. It was a kiss for the ages. His bristled stubble felt incredible against my face. He tightened his arms even more and made the big bulging peaks go higher. He clearly wanted to make me happy. I groped harder, rubbed his muscled body even more, and purred like a kitten. “God, I love your beard,” I said out of the side of our mouth – not letting our kiss end. “I think I’ve secretly wanted you to say that for a very long time,” he responded. “And I think I’ve wanted you to feel my muscles for a very long time, too. A very long time.” “This feels so good,” I said, kissing him harder. “This feels so right,” he said, reaching around my head with his left hand and pulling my face into his even more.
  16. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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.
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