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Old Man Stevens - Part 19


londonboy

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Bud turned back to the crowd behind him and they were still staring like it was the world premiere of some long awaited film.  They were glued to his every move and I think every single man hoped he would be chosen next for some strength feat.  Bud smiled at all of them, bounced his mammoth pecs a few times, and then looked around the room.  I saw a special twinkle in his eye when he came up with an idea.

“Alright fellas, everyone on the pool table.  I’m going to take you for a ride,” Bud said, accepting two beers from Harry and handing one to me.  “Thank you, Harry.”

In the blink of an eye it was like the doors of a New York subway opened at rush hour.  Thirty something men scrambled quickly to grab a place on the table in the middle of the room.  I was worried the thing would break under all that weight, but then I realized it was a heavy, thick oak table that could withstand almost anything.  I knew that Bud could destroy the thing with just his little pinkie, but the table could easily hold thirty men and more.  The group of guys looked like unfolded laundry thrown in a pile.  Everyone desperately wanted to be in a position where they could see Bud in action, so no one minded if they were on top of each other or not.  The place was as silent as a library – the only sound being the heavy breathing of men waiting for a thrilling show.  Bud sauntered over to the table, taking a big swig of his beer before placing it on the top of the jukebox nearby.  Harry was the last one to make it to the table and he dove on top of the pile of bodies – a place of honor.  Bud walked slowly around the table to build the suspense – tensing his muscles to a chorus of moans.  All heads followed him as he moved.

“Connor, babe, I count thirty three men, when you include Harry, is that what you get?” Bud asked, rolling his neck around a little as if he were warming up.

“That’s what I get, Bud,” I replied after counting bodies.  

“Let’s see, thirty three horny grown men.  I’d say most of the guys on this table are between a hundred and fifty pounds to two hundred.  But I also think some of them easily top two hundred,” Bud continued.

“I’m two sixty,” Harry said, raising his hand.

“You hear that, Connor?  Harry, here, weighs two hundred and sixty pounds and I lifted him like he weighed nothing.  That was pretty cool, huh?” Bud said, smiling at the bartender and the smile broadened when Harry nodded his head up and down.  “So, let’s say it’s thirty three men and we’ll be conservative and say the average weight is one ninety.  That means there is six thousand two hundred and seventy pounds on the table.  When you add the weight of the table I bet we get pretty close to seven thousand pounds, wouldn’t you say, Connor?”

“At least, big man,” I said in response.

“That’s a lot of weight, fellas,” Bud said, looking at the group and feigning concern that it might be too heavy for him.  

There wasn’t a man in the room that didn’t believe the man could lift the table and the guys on it, but it was fun to play along with him.  It built the excitement to force yourself into thinking that no one should be able to lift so much weight.  Weights like that were reserved for cranes or forklifts.  If hardening cocks made sounds there would have been a wonderful symphony playing in the bar.  Bud walked to the center of one of the long sides of the table.  He stood near the group of men, so they could stare up at his monstrous body.  He turned his head to me.

“How about I lift it with my arm stretched out, like they’re a tray of appetizers.   Would you like that, Connor?” Bud asked.

“You know I would, but there’s one thing that would make it even hotter,” I replied.

“What’s that, babe,” he said, excited to make me even happier.

“I think we’d all like to see you do your lifting without a shirt,” I replied.

There was a loud cheer of agreement from the men on the table.  Bud’s face broke into a giant smile and he turned his huge frame towards me.  All bodies on the table scooted over so they could easily see the front of Bud’s torso.  Bud reached up to the collar of his shirt with both hands and I swear all breathing in the room stopped.  He pulled slowly – for a dramatic effect, of course – and the shirt began to rip down the middle.  Slowly fabric pulled away to reveal the man’s silver dusted giant pecs, with nipples protruding like steel doorknobs.  The sound of the shirt being easily torn from his body rang through the bar like a tornado warning alarm.  It was still one of the sweetest sounds I knew, muscles destroying a shirt.  Finally, Bud just yanked his clenched hands from his body and the remaining pieces of shirt came tearing away without any resistance.  It was as if the cloth knew it would never win.  Bud’s humongous upper body was completely revealed and there was a collective gasp from the pool table.  Bud dropped the shirt to the floor and then smiled at me.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes!” came the collective answer from the pool table and then Harry added, “Hell yeah!”

“Much,” I said, when the group had quieted down.

“And now, I need a kiss,” Bud said.

I walked over to him and he grabbed the sides of my shoulders with his big hands.  Lifting me off the floor he brought my face up to his and then placed his mouth against mine.  The sigh that rose from the group of guys next to us convinced me that romance was not dead.  The kiss, however, convinced me more.  I’d probably kiss Bud numerous times for the rest of my life, but every time would be like the first.  I’m sure it was a combination of being easily lifted off the floor, being close to his huge manly-smelling naked upper torso, and the expert tongue and lip work that sent me close to the edge.  Whatever it was, I liked it a lot.  After a few seconds more, Bud returned me to the floor.

“Why don’t you stand close, so you’ll get a good view,” he suggested, knowing clearly that wild horses would not be able to drag me away.  

Bud squatted low.  He was so big now, that to reach under the table he had to almost get on his knees.   He held out his arm to the side and then flexed his huge arm simply to get my motor and the motors of every guy on the table running in overdrive.  The humongous biceps ballooned up and many of the men gasped at the sight.  Up close his arm looked even bigger.

“How’d some of you guys like to ride this big thing later on?” Bud asked, knowing the answer before he even asked the question.  “It would be like being on a big two humped camel and I bet it would be the ride of your life.”

A chorus of yeses rang from the table. And then thirty-three cocks had to be adjusted at the same time.  The thought of riding on Bud’s massive arm was too much for the guys.  Bud released his flex and then slid his outstretched hand under the pool table – palm up.  As soon as he applied a little pressure under the table and the thing moved slightly, Bud let out a strained growl – to make it seem like lifting the table was hard.  I knew he was kidding and I had a feeling most of the guys knew, too – if not all of them – but it was sexy as hell seeing him pretending to strain.  Very slowly the table rose.  The way you knew it wasn’t a problem for Bud, even thought he continued to yell through gritted teeth, was the fact that the table didn’t wobble or tip in any direction.  Bud’s palm was able to hold the big thing steady with no problem.  Again, watching him lift thirty-three men on a pool table was even more thrilling that having seen him lift a fire engine.  I was beginning to realize it was because it involved living men – and watching their faces as my super gramps did amazing feats of strength.  By this point Bud was standing up straight, his hand stretched out completely from his shoulder and he was holding a giant pool table loaded with a group of men like it was a sheet of paper.  He was still pretending that it was hard – with a face that looked strained and a gritted growl.  Suddenly the sound stopped, Bud smiled, and he looked at the guys.

“Did I have you fooled?” he asked.  “Did I make it look hard?  It’s not.  Lifting seven thousand pounds is a breeze for this old man.”  

To emphasize his point Bud started lifting the table higher than his head and then lowering it back to shoulder length.  Watching his barely strained arm accomplish this feat was simply amazing.  My Bud-induced perpetual hard-on actually twitched wildly at the sight.  Many of the men on the table had reached a point beyond caring and they had their hands down their pants and I could tell they were pumping their hard cocks as fast as the could.  

“Let’s make it a bumpy ride, shall we, fellas?” Bud asked.

He then started to flick his wrist a little and send the table and its occupants into the air.  The table would be stopped abruptly when it fell into Bud’s waiting hand and then there’d be a big thud as the pile of thirty-three men hit the table and the thing didn’t dip at all.  Bud was tossing seven thousand pounds up and down in the air like he had only a golf ball in his hand.  Bud bent his legs slightly and then wrapped his other huge arm around my waist.  When he stood back up he took my body with him.

“I thought you might like to watch from up here, Connor.”  Bud said.  “Its wild, sweetheart.  It registers in my head that my palm is holding seven thousand pounds and I can feel some weight in my hand, but these guys and the table are so fucking light.  I send the entire thing into the air with nothing but a flick of my wrist.  Imagine what I could do if I really cocked my arm downward and then sent it flying upward.  Listen to that sound when all of their bodies hit the table – cool, huh?  That noise kind of turns me on – especially when most of the guys let out a grunt when they smack into each other.  Watch this, Connor babe.  Hey fellas, let’s see if I can flip all of you like a pancake.  Hang on to each other.  I’m pretty sure the ceiling is high enough.”  

I looked up and realized, for the first time, that the place was like a warehouse and the roof was really high.  I immediately knew this was a good thing.  Like an expert chef, Bud Stevens pulled his arm in towards him and then sent it flinging outward, flicking his wrist a little harder than before at the same time.  The effect was exactly what he expected.  The group of men – clinging to each other for the ride of their lives – went flying in the air as one unit, spun around like a flipped pancake, and then came crashing back down on the pool table with a loud thud.  There was also a chorus of guys getting the wind knocked out of them.  Harry, the bartender, was now on the bottom of the pile.

“Did you see that Connor, my man,” Bud said with a deep gleeful laugh.  “I just flipped my first thirty three-man omlette!  That was incredible and so easy.  I could be a good cook, don’t you think?  Let’s do it again.”

And that’s exactly what Bud did.  He flipped the large group of men two more times in the same exact way.  He did it quickly and I could see that it was making some of the men a little nauseous – spinning around so fast.  I could also see they were loving it, like little kids on a fast ride at the fair.  It suddenly dawned on me that Bud had been holding seven thousand pounds in one hand for a good while.  He didn’t seem like it mattered, though.  His arm was bulging a little more than it usually did, something that made my cock jump, but there didn’t seem to be any limit to his strength.  I think he could have held them like that for days.  

“Hey Bud, I think you’re forgetting something that will make you very happy,” I said, looking up at him around his big pec, which pressed into my body as he held me close.

“What’s that, babe,” He said, smiling down at me.

“There’s a huge mirror behind the bar,” I replied, knowing full well what my words would do to the big man.  

“Holy hell, that means I can watch myself lift these dude!” Bud shot back quickly.

“It sure does,” I answered.

In a flash Bud had moved us all around until he was standing across from the bar and could see himself in the giant mirror.  The view was amazing and I think it actually caught him off guard, even though he fully realized his abilities.  It was just the sight of his power still sometimes surprised him.  Doing strength feats was nothing, but watching himself do them was a little surreal.  I giggled to myself as I watched thirty-three men stay connected as one glob of man-meat but wiggle themselves around so that everyone could look in the mirror.  There was this giant elder muscleman – his tattered shirt on the floor so his massive upper body shone like a giant full moon – holding his lover in one arm and a massive wooden pool table with a mob of full-grown men in the other.  And the arm was outstretched like he was feeling for raindrops.  Everyone paused for a few minutes to let the glorious view sink in.  We all were part of it – the reality of it – but seeing it in the mirror still knocked your socks off.  My senior lover was immense; there was just no denying it.  He made the pool table look like a flimsy card table.  He made a group of thirty-six men look like a pile of rag dolls.  Bud Stevens was exactly what I pictured when I thought of the gods on Mount Olympus.   Huge, clearly virile beyond imagination, comfortable in his own skin, and confident as hell.  

“Let’s make the view even hotter, fellas,” Bud said, snapping us all out of our wide-eyed adoration.  

It was a simple move, but one that none of us was prepared for.  He simply brought his arm – the one with the pool table and the gaggle of onlookers – above his head.  It stirred something deep inside me.  The old Hercules films used to show the actor lifting a guy overhead.  That one move was replayed over and over in my head so many times in my life, that I could invoke it perfectly any time my hand touched my cock or my nips.  It didn’t matter if the lifting was really a guy jumping and the Hercules actor merely moving his arms in the same direction as the guy was traveling or if Hercules actually carried the guy for a few feet.  It was simply the image of a muscular man holding another full-grown man – the bigger the better – over his head.  Later on, when I discovered muscle worship films, and there were huge men willing to press other guys over their head multiple times for our viewing pleasure, I instantly became a lifelong fan of any cocky dude that could do it.  I usually skipped over the sex parts of videos and focused on any part that dealt with muscle worship or showing off strength.  All of my youthful fantasies and my adult porn watching could never have prepared me for Bud Stevens, however.  He had already blown me away with multiple feats of strength, but the image of him lifting that table with those men made my cock explode.  I was usually able to hold out from orgasm so my big man could enjoy my love juice, but seeing him pressing that human weight up and down with one arm – like it was nothing – erased every image of Hercules or some porn star struggling to lift one man.  I sprayed for my real-life senior Hercules.  

“Bless my soul, Connor, you are clearly digging this image as much as I am.  Watching my massive arm manipulate these men was just too much for you, wasn’t it?” Bud said, obviously loving the fact that I spontaneously erupted.  “Look at you flopping around in my big arm while the other one easily presses up and lowers down – seven thousand pounds feeling like a bag full of feathers.  Your silver-haired lover-man is getting super strong for you, babe.  Making you spill your sweet seed is all I live for.  Well that, and showing off my strength.  When I feel you shaking uncontrollably in my arms it means I’ve done something to make you happy.  And that, in turn makes me very happy.  I’d have you spewing twenty-four seven if I could, hon.  Sorry to make you have a mess in your pants, though.”

“I don’t mind,” I replied softly, not having fully recovered from my release.  

The sound of multiple orgasmic moans made me realize a bunch of the guys on the pool table had been unable to contain their eruptions, either.  They were blown away by the reflection in the mirror, too.  Bud Stevens looked like a man in his sixties who had been morphed three times over and then someone had photoshopped a huge, dark, heavy pool table loaded with a pile of cum-stained men onto one of his gigantic arms, which was lifted above his head.  It didn’t look real.  Hell, I was pretty sure that even Bud was surprised by the sight, and he was the one actually doing the stunt.  Here were the things that helped to make it real – the thick smell of manly seed that now permeated the air, the deep breathing of thirty some odd men as they tried to recover from intense orgasms and the fact that a silver-haired, white fur covered, muscle bulging hulk of a gramps had just man-powered seven thousand pounds over his head as if it had been a plate he was carrying to the table for dinner.  And then there was the shocking reality that the man still held all of it above his head while his uncovered massive torso shone like a marble statue four times bigger than life-sized.  

“Whoa, little men, it’s starting to smell like a Saturday night high school circle-jerk party in here,” Bud said, laughing.  “It seems that no one was able to resist pumping out some creamy adulation to my little display of strength.  I say ‘little’ because you fellas don’t weigh a thing and this table feels as light as a matchbox.  The view is pretty potent, though, I’ll give you that.  Look at how my hard muscles bulge in overload.  It’s like someone combined the meat of five men’s body onto one.  And when I tense everything up it’s pretty cock hardening, isn’t it.  Look at the lust in my lover boy’s eyes.  Connor would eat me up, if he could.  When he gets turned on like that I get a glimpse of heaven, boys.  I’m all about making this little guy happy.”

“I wanna be your little guy, too,” came Harry’s voice from the pile of worn-out men on top of the table.  “I want a man that can do what you can do!”

“Sorry, pretty Harry, I’m a one-man muscle giant,” Bud responded.  “I only have room in my heart for Connor, here.  He makes me complete.”

Bud squeezed his arm, which surrounded me, to emphasize his point.  I was still a little dizzy from my orgasm, but his words warmed my heart in a way that was hard to explain.  I never doubted Bud’s love for me – or his devotion – but hearing it never got old, either.  It was like a blanket of security – the same kind of feeling I received when his muscled arm engulfed me.  The big senior man was still lifting the table and men up and down with one arm, as if to emphasize his strength to everyone.  I’m sure, like me, every man on that pool table was already hard as stone, again.  

“Look how when I lower the table, boys, my big gun balloons to an even more freakish size,” Bud said, and we all stared at his biceps.  “This is the kind of workout I’d love to have every day.  Not that I need to lift weights or anything.  I keep getting bigger and stronger without doing a thing, but what’s the use of having all this ginormous muscle if you’re not going to use it.  Isn’t that right fellas?”

A chorus of yeses again rang through the room.  Bud continued to lift the table up and down – increasing the speed.  I wondered if his goal was to get a few of the men dizzy from the motion.  Or was he simply showing off.  Bud began to lower the table to the side, too, as he had done at first.  This was truly an amazing sight – his arm outstretched and steady as a mountain, holding the table and men.  

“I think it’s time we play ‘who can be the last man holding on,’” boomed Bud.  “I’m going to shake the table and you guys see who stays on the table the longest.  You up for the game, men?”

“Yes!” came the unanimous answer.

Bud released his grip on me and let me slide down his hard body until my feet hit the ground.  He kept his hand on my back to make sure I was steady on the floor.  I took a quick grope of his unclothed upper body and this made the big man chuckle.  I then backed away, wanting to watch the game he had planned.  Bud raised the table overhead and grabbed it at the side with the hand that had held me.  He then grabbed the other side.  Now he had the table overhead like a surfer carrying his board.  The men were frantically trying to figure out how they were going to hold onto the table.  Some were grabbing the side, others were sticking their hands down the open holes, and others were just sitting there hoping to ride out the coming strength storm as best they could.

“Okay, fellas, hang on!” Bud called out.  

I knew Bud’s goal was to have no one left on that table.  His intention was to end up shaking the thing like it was an earthquake above an 8.0 on the scale.  Bud hadn’t lowered the table now for about thirty minutes – an amazing feat in and of itself, but he was going to go even further and send the guys flying.  I watched as the huge man tightened his grip, made his biceps bulge even higher for my benefit, and then began to rock the table back and forth.  There was a chorus of cheers from above as the men readied themselves for the challenge.  Bud could have cleared the table with one sharp flick of his huge arms.  Everyone in the room knew it.  The man was powerful enough to bring down buildings – rocking a table with thirty men was child’s play, but that’s what made it fun . . . knowing he was toying with everyone.  There was absolutely no reason for Bud Stevens to be a bully.  Bullies needed to prove something.  Bullies were mean because they were insecure.  All insecurities in Bud disappeared the minute he became huge and powerful.  When your body surpasses known limits you tend to become so comfortable in your skin that you radiate confidence from every pore.  Of course, the only reason I knew this was because I had witnessed it first hand.  Bud knew he was huge.  Bud knew he was powerful.  Bud knew he was the only man on the planet like this.  Knowledge like this enables a man to be fully human – to be gentle, kind, and always giving.  That is, unless someone tried to harm me.  That’s the only thing that would make Bud get angry.  

“Time to lose a few of you!” Bud boomed over the yells from the men.

The man’s big arms began to shake the table harder.  Two guys immediately went flying to the ground.  You could see their disappointment over losing, but they both stood up and started cheering on the others.  A bunch of other men were shaken to the edges of the table and they grabbed hold of the side as they slid off – all of them dangling from above the ground as Bud continued to vibrate the entire big thing.  Eventually the shaking made them all lose their grip and they plopped down to the ground.  

“And now for some rocking at the same time!  If the table’s rocking, don’t come knocking,” Bud yelled enthusiastically.  

I watched in awe as the ends of the pool table started going up and down at the same time it shook.  Bud’s arms were now getting so swole that my cock was hard as stone, not because of his strength show, but because of biceps that now looked like something from another world.  It was like the bodies of two huge men stuck out from Bud’s shoulders and held onto the table.  Suddenly, men were flying everywhere.  One guy went through the air and then scooted down the long bar – just like in the movies.  Guys landed on tables, banged into walls, and hit the pinball machines.  No one flew hard enough to get hurt and everyone immediately jumped up after landing to watch the rest of the show.  I finally peeled my eyes from Bud’s humongous arms and looked at the table.  On man remained – Harry the bartender – and he was lying on the table with his feet and hands locked against the raised edge.  The chosen position helped him to wedge himself securely even with the tremendous force of Bud’s shaking skills.  The giant elder man saw all of this in the mirror behind the bar and it made him smile.  There was nothing Bud loved more than a friendly challenge from another man.  Harry smiled, too, because he knew his actions were going to make the senior muscleman use more of his power.  Harry wanted to please my boyfriend – and he certainly did.  

“How long do you think you can last Harry?” Bud called out teasingly.  “You know, of course, I could send you flying across the room any time I wanted, right?”

“Yes sir,” Harry responded in an unsteady voice due to all the shaking.

“But let’s just increase everything slowly to see how strong you can be,” Bud said.  “Those muscles of yours are bulging pretty hard right now and it’s hot as hell.”

Bud was right.  Harry was using a lot of strength to stay wedged on the table and it made his body bulge beautifully.  He truly was a sexy man.  I could tell Bud liked Hary’s small compact body and I certainly felt the same way.  Every other man in the place was now cheering on the bartender.  We all knew he’d lose, eventually, but it was fun to root for the underdog.  Bud loved the optimism of the crowd.  He also loved how huge his upper body was getting from the workout.  The rocking of the table, along with the side-to-side shaking increased slightly.  We all saw Harry tense his body harder, exerting more strength to stay in place.  It was actually pretty impressive that he hadn’t gone sailing through the air, yet.  The table was moving up and down like a ship being tossed by giant waves.  

“Good job, Harry, my boy!” Bud said, encouraging the bartender.  “I’m trying to decide how to finally buck you off this bronco table.  I hope you’re okay with flying the length of this place, cause I feel like using some strength.  The ceiling’s high enough for me to send you soaring.  I’m thinking you want me to show off, don’t you, son?”

“Please sir,” Harry said through gritted teeth.

“Fellas, I need a bunch of you to go over to that corner across the place near the dart board.  About ten of you should do,” Bud requested.

Immediately, the entire group of other men ran to the spot that Bud mentioned.  No one wanted to be left out and everyone wanted to watch the flying bartender.  I realized immediately that Bud intended to use the group as Harry’s landing spot.  This was going to be good.  I viewed it as a human bowling game – the compact muscled guy being the ball and the thirty-two men being the pins.  This was Bud’s intention, too.  I was now so close to my elder lover we could easily know what the other was thinking.  We also loved the same thing – Bud using his strength and showing off his size any time he could.  The giant man cocked the table backwards in his big hands – causing Harry’s head to be lower than his feet for a few seconds.  The bartender let out a big celebratory yell as soon as he figured out what was going to happen.  That’s when the huge senior snapped the big table forward in his hands like he was doing a forward pass with a basketball.  When he abruptly stopped the motion I was happy the pool table didn’t break in two.  The motion, however, acted like a large catapult that sent the muscled bartender ejected into the air.  Harry’s body shot upward with his arms and leg still spread out.  He traveled the length of the entire warehouse-like room and smacked into the front of the group of men on the other side.  Immediately, all thirty-two men were knocked to the ground.  It was the smoothest strike you’d ever seen in bowling.  

“Sttrriiiikkkeeee!!!!” Bud yelled loudly.  

My massive boyfriend then walked over and placed the pool table back on the ground – right in the spot it had sat earlier.  He continued across the room and when he got to the pile of still-stunned men on the ground he started reaching down and lifting guys by the shirt or pants using one hand each and standing them back on the ground.  Every guy kind of swayed back and forth when he was set on his feet – still reeling from the powerful toss of Bud Stevens.  By the time the big man had everyone standing, I was sitting at the bar and Harry had returned to his spot, serving me another cold beer.  The short muscled dude was clearly jacked from Bud’s display of power.  Old man Stevens stayed in the corner of the room with the other men and continued to reward them with individual feats of strength.  Harry and I watched – the bartender leaning on the bar from the other side near where I sat.

“What’s it like - living with all that senior muscle?” Harry asked.

“Secure and hard,” I replied, without hesitation.  “You never have to worry about a thing.”

“I bet,” Harry said, looking over at the big man.  “Look at him, holding out his palm, having a group of guys grab hold of it, and then lifting them up like they don’t weigh a thing.  He’s got five guys hanging on to his hand and they’re dangling off the ground – merely from the power of just one of his big arms.  The weight doesn’t register to him at all.  Hell, he lifted me like I was just a tissue.  I bet he could have crumpled me up and tossed me like one, too.

“Yeah, but he never would,” I replied.

“Unless I did something to you, Connor,” Harry shot back quickly.

“Yeah, that’s true,” I answered.  “He doesn’t take kindly to anyone that’s mean to me.”

“When he grabbed me earlier, jolts of pure joy shot through my body.  Does that ever go away?” Harry asked.

“”Nope,” I replied, “It still happens to me every time he touches me.”

“He’s just so fucking enormous,” Harry exclaimed, and then added, “Now he has four guys hanging from each arm as he does a double biceps pose and he’s spinning them around like a carnival ride.”

“He loves making guys happy,” I explained, “ And, in turn, it makes him happy.”

“He’s happiest when you’re satisfied, though,” Harry said, turning to look at me.  “It’s like you’ve got a guardian angel.”

“Better than that,” I said.  “It’s like I’ve got my own superhero.”

“You’re not flirting with my boy, are you, Harry?” Bud asked, trying to seem all menacing and dominant.  “Cause if you are I’m gonna have to wrap your legs around your neck and tie them in a knot.”

Bud stood behind me and looked down at the bartender.  He placed one big hand on my chest and then laid the other one on top of that – clearly my torso was too small for both of his big hands to be beside each other.  He pulled my body into his and I could feel his massive hard-on snaking upward at his crotch.  Playing with all the men in the bar had gotten him very excited.  Showing off his strength always gave him a raging boner.  He bent down and kissed the top of my head.

“Quit being mean, Bud,” I said, teasingly.

“It would almost be worth flirting with him, Bud, just to feel your strength do something to my body,” Harry said.  “I haven’t ever gotten so turned on as I did when you lifted me with one hand and then later when you shot me across the room from the pool table.”

“Hell, son, that was nothing.  Connor, here, has seen me lift a fire engine,” Bud said and smiled when the statement made Harry moan out loud.  “I’ve got an idea.  Harry, can you hold my little man, here, over your head?”

“Yes sir,” Harry responded, “but not nearly as long as you could.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Bud said.  “This would just need to be long enough to edge you two closer to another eruption.  Connor, babe, would you like to be lifted overhead by this cute bartender?”

“You know I would,” I answered.

“Well, let’s stand facing the mirror again,” Bud said and then he reached down and easily lifted me by the waist.  “I’ll place Connor in your hands, Harry – to save some of the strength you’d use lifting him.”

Harry stood in front of Bud and locked his arms above his head.  Bud easily turned me sideways and lifted me into the palms of the waiting bartender.  As soon as Bud let go I could feel how Harry had to strain to hold me, while the big elder man had easily manipulated me as if I had merely been a Q-Tip.  It was so different to be held by someone that had to work at it.  Bud held me without shaking or grunting.  Harry was definitely strong and could clearly hold me for a while, but to Bud I was nothing but a cotton ball.  It didn’t even register he was holding a grown man.  The view, however, of the leather vested, muscled Harry holding me over his head was still a turn on.  The guy was truly handsome and built like a freaking fireplug.  Bud caught me looking at our reflection.

“Yeah, I figured you’d get all hot and bothered, Connor,” the big man said.  “Harry is one sexy beast.  He bulges in all the right places.  That’s exactly what I hoped would happen.  This is going to be like a muscle-worship three-way.  I’ve certainly done greater strength feats that what I’m about to do, but there’s just something powerful when it’s an intimate act between so few people.  And since we both like Harry I thought we’d include him in the fun.  Now Harry, you hang on to my boy, no matter what.  Even if you spew your seed something powerful, you grip Connor good.”

“Yes sir,” Harry answered.

Bud had grabbed Harry at his hips.  With little effort, but a whole lot of joy, the senior muscle stud lifted the bartender as he held me above his head.  The view in the mirror was breathtaking.  Bud was right – he had done much more powerful things – but it was wonderful watching our little acrobatic threesome.  Harry gasped a little when his feet came off the ground and I could feel his arms shaking even more, but I knew he wouldn’t drop me even if his life depended on it.  He had told Bud Stevens he wouldn’t and no one wanted Bud mad at them.  It was glorious feeling my body go so high in the air.  It was also cool knowing such a strong man was holding me and that there was someone holding both of us who was a hell of a lot more powerful.  Bud extended his arms all the way and held us in place for a few seconds.  He then started lowering and raising us in smooth reps.  I could sense that the group of men had gathered again to watch the show.  Harry’s gorgeous body glistened a little from a light sweat - caused from holding me for so long, but Bud kept pushing us up and down as if he could do it forever.  

“Harry, can you pump out a few reps with my man as I lift you both?” Bud asked.

“I can and will, sir,” Harry answered.

“That-a-boy, Harry.  This will be hot,” Bud added.  “But let’s do one more thing to make it even better.  I’m going to make a slight adjustment.”

Bud held on to Harry’s hip tightly with his big left hand as he moved his right hand to the bartender’s ass.  That meant for a few seconds Bud held us both in the air with just one hand – easy enough for him, but it was hot as hell.  Harry immediately understood what was going on and he folded his body to sit in Bud’s open right palm.  My senior lover then let go with his left hand and pumped that arm into a biceps flex.  At the same time he held the both of us high in the air with one arm.  It was such an awesome sight.  Harry moaned with pleasure as he looked at the three of us and then his entire body trembled as Bud started to move us up and down with one arm, while power flexing with the other.  I could hear camera phones going off right and left behind us, as well as what could only be the sound of hands pumping cocks as guys watched the action.  

“To me, this is even hotter than lifting a fire engine,” Bud exclaimed, and I could hear the excitement in his voice.  

“Me, too,” I responded.

“Me, too,” Harry added.

Bud pumped out quite a few one armed reps with our bodies in the air, but then I could tell he sensed Harry was getting a little tired.  He lowered the bartender to the ground and gave the smaller guy some support with his big hand as Harry stood back up.  Bud then reached up and took my body in his own hands.  Immediately, Harry shook out his arms like he had just finished some reps with some very heavy weight.  Bud pushed my body into the air and we both stared at the beautiful sight of him holding me so easily.  

“My boy’s really light, isn’t he, Harry,” Bud said, teasing the bartender.

“Um, no sir,” Harry replied, gawking at how casual it was for Bud to hoist and hold me in the air.

“No?  I could hold him here for days.  Would you like that Connor?” Bud asked teasingly.

“You know I would, Bud,” I said, looking at his reflection lovingly.  

“I love holding your little body in the air, babe, cause I know how much you like it,” Bud said.  “And look how impressed Harry is with my strength.  Just think – this one hand held both of you in the air with the greatest of ease.  I’m getting the feeling that Harry likes being lifted.”

“Yes sir,” the bartender replied.  “No one’s ever been able to lift me in the air and you did it with one and . . . even when I was holding another full grown man in my arms!”  

“And you two were as light as light can be,” Bud said.  

“Um, big guy, as much as I love this, I think I’d like to have my feet on the ground, again,” I said, looking down at Bud below me.

“Oh sorry, Connor, I forgot I was holding you,” Bud said, and gently placed me back on a bar stool.  He then patted my head and added, “You really should gain some weight so you’d register to these big guns of mine.”

“You just lifted seven thousand pounds without any problem,” I complained.  “I don’t think I can ever gain enough weight to make it matter.”

“Truer words have never been spoken, my little lover,” Bud said.

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