Papa Bear

[londonboy 2246]

[Selfishly, this story has things I love - older men, romance, sex, and strength.  I humbly submit it as my offering to this great event.]

 

His big beefy calloused hand wrapped around the back of my head and pulled my face into his concrete-hard right pec.  There was a loud smack as I hit his unyielding tight flesh.  I couldn’t have pulled my head away even if I had wanted to – he was just that strong.  His fingers tightened on my skull and he rubbed my nose, lips, cheeks, and forehead back and forth across the wide expanse of his chest muscle.  It seemed as big as a continent.  I had become something akin to a washcloth in his hand.  My crushed nose got some temporary relief as it slid down into the deep, seemingly unending crevice between his mammoth mounds of meat, but then he started flexing and squeezed the holy hell out of my face.  I was suddenly shocked by how powerful pec muscle could be.  Meanwhile, his other equally large, strong hand slid slowly down my back and found its way into my ass crack, easily parting cheeks and pressing dangerously against my tight hole.  His first two fingers toyed with me as both hands moved slightly upward, making me go up on the tips of my toes.

“Unhhhh . . . yeaaaaah,” he said in a low deep growl-like whisper, clearly pleased by how my bubble butt clamped tight in response to his invasion.

He stopped the advancement at my ass, pulling his hand away – obviously, that particular part of my body would be a special reward for a later time.  I fell back down on the soles of my feet, no longer supported by his strong hands.  The fingers at the back of my skull moved again, my face was pulled from its resting place between his tensed pecs and roughly dragged through the heavy salt-and-pepper fur covering his mammoth chest.  I knew where I was headed before I even got there.  The big muscular paw led my saliva-leaking mouth directly to his massive right nipple – jutting from his pec like a huge knob of granite flesh waiting to be adored.  My lips instantly parted to accept the hard thing and I was surprised by its size.

“Suck,” he ordered, in that same sexy-as-fuck low voice that seemed to rumble loudly from his enormous chest.  I marveled at how a man’s voice could sound so powerful and full of testosterone.

My mouth immediately became like a high-powered vacuum.  I latched onto his hairy pec like I was in a contest to see who could leave the most nipple hickeys – even though I knew his skin was too hard for me to do any damage.  The big man let out a deep animalistic growl that made it clear I was doing a good job.  The grip on my head tightened even more and my face was compressed into his hard muscle so deeply it hurt.  Evidently, my oral skills became too much for the big man, though, because he suddenly let his fingers grip my hair and he pulled my head backwards, forcing my face to turn up towards his.  He brought his lips down to mine and immediately his mouth became a much more powerful vacuum than I ever could have dreamed of being.  He sucked so hard I swear my feet came off the ground again.  His tongue didn’t just dominate my mouth – it ignored the fact that I was even there and had its way with me – jabbing deeply into my throat.  I started to become alarmed that I would soon lose teeth, tonsils, or possibly my own tongue – his kiss was more like an ancient army with a battering ram.  Still, it was thrilling beyond belief.  Obviously, the massive man liked it too, because he pulled his face away from mine and again emitted a pleased low growl before slamming my face back into his pec, so I could return to pleasing his nipple.   

This was the third time in three weeks I had summoned the huge man known only as Papa Bear to my condominium.  He was an expensive hustler, but his particular specialty was way beyond what my fantasies could ever have begun to conjure up.  The three hundred and fifty pound muscled bear was somewhere around fifty-five to fifty-eight and had the kind of manly beard that would make any lumberjack jealous.  A silver crew cut that seemed to emphasize his masculinity even more and a body that seemed like three huge power lifters molded together just added to the overall package.  When you touched his muscles it felt like they were perpetually tensed – as if he was flexing for you all the time – but then you realized he was just hard as hell . . . everywhere.  When I stood beside him it felt like I was a five year old hanging out with his monstrous father.  

He wasn’t much into conversation, a definite plus, and – somehow – the guy instinctively always knew what I wanted . . . or needed.  The first week I had told him I was in the mood for lots of sex, so he banged me hard numerous times in different spots around my home.  I was in so many different positions that night I saw my place from angles I had never even imagined.  We actually didn’t make it to the bed in the master bedroom.  I lost count of his orgasms somewhere around two o’clock when I was being pounded so hard on the dining room table my eyes were rolling back into my head.  I did, however, remember groping his hard-as-stone guns through the entire evening – somehow their obvious strength and size anchoring me in reality.  I swear the already massive things swelled even bigger during the sex that night.    

The next morning, as I lay nude and totally spent on the carpet in the middle of the living room and Papa Bear prepared to leave, he apologized for how sore I was going to feel for a few days.  He also reminded me I had asked for lots of sex.  I ended up calling in sick at work for two days - just because every muscle in my body was in agony and I found it very difficult to walk.  It had been exactly the kind of evening I had wanted.  When I called him the second time I swear I detected a pleased tone in his voice and I was impressed when he said he remembered exactly who I was and where I lived.  Before we hung up he asked what I was looking for from the evening and I told him it had been a rough week and I was looking for some romance and cuddling.  

When I opened the door a few hours later I was greeted with a dozen red roses, a bottle of wine, and Papa Bear dressed in an insanely tight crisp white button-down shirt – opened more than half way down to show off his mega furry pecs.  I was pretty sure my entire head could’ve disappeared between the man’s mounds of muscled chest beef.  When he bent his arms I swear you could hear the material in the sleeves screaming because it was stretched almost to the bursting point.  One of the hottest things in the world, to me, is a guy wearing clothes and his muscles still being so defined that you can actually see veins and striations.  I had a feeling if the senior muscle man had inhaled too deeply the poor shirt would have instantly been a pile of shredded rags on the floor.  Once the flowers were arranged nicely in a vase and the wine had been poured, the big man picked me up in his arms as if he was just giving a shrug, motioned with his head for me to take the glasses, and then carried me to the large master bathroom.  I could sense that my weight barely registered to his bulging guns.  He held me with one arm as he started the water in the large Jacuzzi bathtub, and after checking to make sure the temperature of the water was just right, he set me down, kneeled, and began to lovingly undress me.  He stroked my body as he undid buttons and zippers.  Once I was standing there nude, he stood up – his full six foot four inches – and slowly took off his own clothes, making sure he tensed every bulging muscle as it was uncovered.  He knew watching him undress would turn me on completely – and the skyrocketing rod at my crotch confirmed that assumption.  To tease me, he flexed his gigantic arms when he was fully undressed, knowing the show would make my night.  He, again, easily lifted me and then placed me in the tub – cupping warm water in his hands to let it cascade over my body to help me get used to the warmth.  The temperature of the water, however, seemed to soar to boiling point as soon as he joined me in the tub.  I was just as turned on by his soft caresses as I had been by his all-night power plowing the week before.

Once he was nestled comfortably in the big bathtub, he pulled my smaller body onto his, his bulging chest becoming a pillow for my head.  We sipped our wine in silence as he softly pinched my nips, fondled my balls, massaged my shoulders, arms, and legs, and kept my cock at full mast with loving thick-fingered strokes every few minutes.  Even though his body felt harder than stone, it was so comfortable lying there – feeling my body go up and down as he inhaled and exhaled.  I fell asleep resting on him and about an hour later I woke up to find myself in bed and him propped up on one big arm beside me – staring at and caressing me as I slept.  He leaned his face down to mine and gave me a kiss on the lips.  He then moved his mouth near my ear.

“Would you like this big man to be inside you?” he asked in a soft sultry voice that was full of love, need, and extreme power.  I simply nodded my head, too turned on to say a word.

He reached over and pulled my body on top of his as he lay on his back.  It was as if he were merely pulling up a light sheet.  Resting on top of his mountainous torso was quickly becoming one of my most favorite things in he world.  He then slid both hands down my sides and grabbed my hips.  He easily lifted my body in the air, turned me upright, and then I felt his hardening cock slap against my ass with a loud thud.  He lifted my body higher and then moved my ass so it hovered over his straight-as-an-arrow steel-like thick rod.  He lowered me slowly – until the wide tip of his penis poked teasingly into my tight hole.  I clenched my ass even more – determined to block his passage, with the intention of giving us both more pleasure.  This made him smile and chuckle – me thinking I could prevent him from getting what he wanted.  His grip at my hips tightened and he pulled my body downward – slowly and methodically.  His cockhead easily pushed its way through my tight love hole and I threw my head back as I let out a defeated scream.  Papa Bear had penetrated my inner sanctum with a mere tug of his mighty arms.  The big man’s cock was clearly as strong as the rest of him - because it didn’t waiver at all during the invasion.  

The big man let me rest there – impaled by his big hard weapon – until the initial pain turned into something closer to tortured pleasure.  He was only slightly inside me and, yet, it seemed like I was being plowed by the thick end of a baseball bat.  His smile grew bigger and I quickly figured out that my tight hole was also giving him much pleasure.  His cock was leaking so much pre-cum it was like an instant full tube of lube had been emptied for the plowing that was to come.  I felt my chute slowly accepting Papa Bear’s big hard tool and the huge man slowly pulled my happy body lower – making me moan loudly with pure joy.  I was breathing heavily and pinching the shit out of his nipples by the time my butt cheeks felt the bristles of the thick fur around his balls.  And then he was completely inside me and I rested securely on his crotch.  Papa Bear released his grip at my hips and my body stayed in place – like the sheath of a sword.  That’s when the big body beneath me began to roll like giant gentle waves hitting the beach.  The motion of his pulsing crotch gave me unfathomable feelings of ecstasy and I squeezed his nipples even harder.  

“You feel so fucking good,” he said in a voice that seemed to soothe and empower at the same time.  It was like the low strong hum of a powerful jet.

Papa Bear finally melted into a rhythm that made it seem like we were on a waterbed enjoying the constant swishing back and forth of heavy liquid below.  His strong broad body supported me easily and every time his hard tool thrust deeper into my body I would tug on his nipples to make him arch his back even more – sending his cock further into me.  We had become one entity – a cycle of pleasure running through both of us, constantly exciting the other man to new levels.  His pulsing cock caused me to tighten and push down heavily and that just made him want to shove in harder.  I was so ‘on fire’ from his slippery cock moving in and out of my ass that I didn’t even realize how close I was to ejaculation.  Suddenly, my body tensed up all over and rockets of cum started shooting out of my hard as stone cock – held tightly in the grip of Papa Bear’s right hand.  Huge splotches of cum shot up past the big man’s face – hitting the wooden headboard of the bed, like some orgasmic art project.  I blasted off about twenty rounds and somewhere in the middle of my release the big man started spurting gobs of his manly juice into me.  Watching me get off had been too much for Papa Bear – he responded with his own cannon shooting off a big load.  With every super orgasmic release his crotch bucked upward, which only rammed his rod harder into me and sent me reeling even more.  Finally, after what seemed like forever, the big man stopped spewing and when his breathing finally returned to normal he lifted my body off his tool.  Papa Bear then, again, laid me on top of his big torso.  His hand immediately returned to my ass and started caressing my cheeks – as if to tell me he was waiting for a chance to return.  

“Did Papa Bear help his boy forget about his ugly week for a little while,” he asked softly – true concern clearly in his words.

“Yes sir,” I replied.

“Good.  You rest now, son.  You deserve it.  I’ll be right here to comfort and protect you while you sleep,” he added.  “You don’t even have to worry about work.  We can talk about me going in with you one day and taking care of anyone that bothers you.  I’ll not wear a shirt and that’ll intimidate the hell out of anyone that’s a pain.  How does that sound?”

I didn’t even respond because by that time I was fast asleep – surrounded by hard warm muscle and the comfort of his soothing voice.       

It hadn’t been a difficult decision to call Papa Bear the first time.  A friend of mine had given me a flyer for this dude that he said was the exact man I was looking for.  I was impressed with the picture of the man’s arm – I was gigantic and it didn’t look morphed in any way.  But it was the written invitation to have a true older alpha come take care of you that really intrigued me.  God, I loved huge mature men.  There’s just something unbelievable about a white haired muscled monster that gets me going big time.  I’m sure it has something to do with them being experienced – years meaning they have learned a lot about life, about themselves, and about pleasing others.  I was a big sucker for white, fur-covered mountainous pecs, too.  A generous dusting of hair surrounding plump nipples made my mouth water.  A massive muscled grandpa-looking dude could be fodder for my jerk-off sessions for the rest of my life.  The friend who gave me the flyer had heard me pour my heart out numerous times.  He was the bartender at one of my favorite gay hangouts in the neighborhood, so he had learned a lot about what I liked and what I didn’t.  He also knew how often I fell for older men that just wanted a quickie – and usually ended up getting my heart broken.  I trusted my friend to help me out, so it was easy to take the flyer.

When I dialed the number on the advertisement, a deep alpha voice said, “You better like muscle and what it can do if you’re calling this number.  You’re talking to Papa Bear.”

“Um . . . excuse me,” I said, a little caught off guard by the answer.

“The name’s Papa Bear, kid.  You want me to take care of you?” came the reply and the gruff voice thrilled me again.

“Uh . . . um . . . yes . . . sir.” I responded.

“Oh good, I like polite boys,” Papa Bear answered.  “Text me the details – name, address, what you’re looking for from my visit, and anything that might be off limits for you.”

“Um . . . off limits?  Like what?” I replied, clearly inexperienced in this kind of business transaction.

“Like, is it not okay to break furniture or be rough enough to cause bruises or make sure you share any particular fetish you may have,” he replied – and the idea of him crushing furniture made me harder than I already was.  “Got it, sport?”

“Um . . . yes sir,” I replied.

“Try not to beat off too many times thinking about our upcoming meeting, kid, or staring at my big arm on that flyer,” he said before hanging up.  “I want you to be juiced to the max.”

Thankful for silence, because my cock needed time to back off from the edge, I immediately texted him the details, including how I hoped it could be Saturday night.  I was a little surprised when I got an instant reply.  The message only said, “I’ll be pumped,” and there was an icon of a flexed biceps.  I stared at the screen for a while – unable to control the excitement that was gushing through my body – specifically returning to a part of me below the belt.  I wanted to beat off to the flyer of Papa Bear’s arm, but I could still hear his deep voice telling me not to.  I knew I would have no concentration at work or home for the next four days.  I also knew I’d clean my place better than it had ever been cleaned before.  

That had been how it all began and now we were in the middle of our second visit.  I dreamed about Papa Bear the entire night after our romantic time in the tub and the slow, toe-curling sex in bed.   When I woke up, I immediately sensed that the big man was not there.  It was kind of like when you’re sitting in traffic and a huge dump tuck beside you finally pulls away – you instinctively can feel the absence of something so gigantic.  I started to get a little sad, thinking the older muscleman had left, but then I smelled freshly brewed coffee and what I’m sure was bacon and eggs.   My morning wood stiffened even harder when I imagined Papa Bear working away in my kitchen.  Then, as if on cue, the mountainous bulging man walked into the bedroom, wearing only the apron I had been gifted with at the end of a weeklong cooking class in Tuscany.  When I wore it, the red and blue material almost covered my entire body – coming down below my knees and the opening at the neck hanging down below my chest.  On Papa Bear, however, the apron didn’t even cover his crotch and his chest was so big it made the top part of the material look like a small tight bib.  The man’s huge dong was hard and arched out like some kind of pornographic crane.  Papa Bear smiled at me when he saw I was awake and he stood by the bed, reaching down to tug on my raging hard-on through the sheet.

“Looks like we were both thinking about the other,” he said and I simply nodded yes – enjoying his big paw roughly fondling me below.  “I’ve got breakfast and coffee ready, but I was hoping you might want me to fill you in another way, first?”

I didn’t say a word.  I merely reached out and started stroking his hard cock – marveling at the fact that my hand couldn’t reach completely around it.  Clearly, the man had not built his muscles to compensate for inadequacy in other areas of his body.  I, again, didn’t say a word – I just nodded my head and brought my mouth to the tip of his cock, kissing it lightly.  In such a short time that I wouldn’t be able to tell you how it happened, he had lifted my body off the bed, taken off the apron, sat down on the edge, and was lowering my ass toward the big penis tower between his legs.  I bent my knees so I’d end up kneeling when he was completely inside of me.

By now, I was used to the moment of impact from his unyielding power stick.  The head of his dick felt like stainless steel or something even harder when it poked teasingly at my hole.  I shocked the older muscleman a little when I suddenly jerked my body downward in his hands and forced the plump head inside of me with one quick pop.  I shouted and he grunted in pleasure as soon as I forced the invasion.   Papa Bear, however, took my lead and with his powerful arms he plunged my body down his long thick rod with one quick jerk.  For a few seconds my mouth opened wide, but no sound came out.  It took only a few more seconds for me to register the extreme pleasure of having him all the way inside of me and I began to moan happily as he rolled his hips on the bed and forced himself back and forth in my love canal.

“You feel so good, babe,” he said – and I swear it was one of the most loving things I had ever heard.  “How ‘bout being a good boy and sucking on these huge pecs while I rock your world.”

Most people would have considered those words cocky.  Not me.  I understood this man almost as much as I understood myself.  He knew his words would please me – and they did.  They pleased me very much.  And pleasing him always made me happy.  He also didn’t need to ask me twice about his thick plugs.  My mouth was on his right nipple in no time at all.  A confident man knows what he wants and what he likes – and he’s not ashamed to ask for it.  Papa Bear loved having his nipples abused.  I had learned that already in our few times together.  I clearly got the balance of teeth and sucking just right because the big man’s body uncontrollably responded to my work with shivers, goose bumps, and a racing heart that pounded loudly through the man’s mega pecs.  

“Aw fuck, you’ve got a hot mouth, son,” the big man said in between low, animal-like moans.

Papa Bear also clearly had glutes of steel.  His ass was pulsing up and down on the bed, with an added crunch from the man’s cobblestoned abs, and that was creating a rhythm between our two bodies that quickly edged us both toward release.  It felt like I was on the back of some giant horse that was galloping wildly.  I continued to chow down on his nipples – moving from right to left as he held tightly to my hips, thrusting my body up and down on his cock even faster and harder than before.  I was a guy that had had lots of sex before this man.  That’s not boasting, it’s just a fact.  But sex with Papa Bear wasn’t even an action – it was more like something that just happened – like breathing or swallowing.  We were natural together.  It was a matching of giving and receiving that blended perfectly.  My cock was tightly pressed between our bodies – rammed continuously against his hard stomach - and, like the night before, I was so excited by this man and his body I started cumming before I even realized I was near ejaculation.  Suddenly, my cock was spewing hot milky jizz between our torsos.  I continued to tug mercilessly at the man’s thick, hard nubs and finally Papa Bear could take no more.  It was probably a mixture of the abuse at his chest, the clenched ass around his thick tool, and my hands savagely kneading his hard massive guns that sent him over the top.  Again, I was filled with the love juice of this muscled senior and it seemed like I was being injected with the nectar of the gods.  I swear I could feel how his cum immediately energized and fed my body.  It was like he was the conduit bringing some kind of life force to all of me.  I received every drop he had to offer and never stopped sucking on his pecs.  Soon, our heartbeats had settled into a normal rhythm and I pulled my face from his chest.  We simply stared at each other for a few minutes.

“You make me want to be big and strong,” he said softly.

“You already are big and strong,” I replied.

“Yes I am.  You make me want to be bigger and stronger,” he answered.

“That turns me on like you wouldn’t believe,” I said, smiling at the big man in a way that made him smile, too.

“Want some coffee?  I made it strong . . . like me,” he said, chuckling at his own joke.

“That sounds great, but I don’t want to separate from you, just yet,” I replied.

“You don’t have to,” he said and then stood up – easily taking my body with him.  “You’re so light it’s like only having a sweater wrapped around my waist.”

To be carried – with a thick rod still plugging your hole and strong arms wrapped around your lower back – is one of the best feelings in the world.  It means the man holding you is big . . . and strong . . . and in charge.  There’s something about a powerful air fucking that is simply amazing, but sometimes just to be carried or held can be so much more exciting.  Papa Bear bounced my body up and down in his big hands a few times - just to emphasize how I weighed no more than a beach ball would to a normal man.  I had the strong feeling he could have tossed me through the ceiling, but I knew he wouldn’t.  That wasn’t the kind of guy he was.  He loved his strength – and showing it off – but he wouldn’t ever think of hurting me.  Once we made it to the kitchen he placed me in a chair and then poured us both some coffee.  He sat in the chair next to me – swinging his leg over the back of the thing in that macho alpha kind of way.  A plate with breakfast food was placed in front of me.  He then started eating, but flexed his free arm right beside me – the peak swelling to hugeness.  I immediately knew it was for me to have something to grope while I ate.  The man certainly knew how to please.  I reached over and placed my small fragile-llooking hand on top of his monstrous biceps and then tried desperately to press the skin inward - even a little bit.  This made Papa Bear grunt a small chuckle, as if he was saying ‘no way, kid,’ and he flexed the thing even harder.  We ate our food in silence – my hand caressing his big gun the entire time.  Every now and then I’d lean over to kiss the big mound of muscle and Papa Bear would lean in to do the same thing – our eyes meeting over the giant peak.  It wasn’t until that moment that it registered we were both sitting there totally nude – raging hard-ons poking upward in our laps and still sticky from my earlier explosion.  My hand went back to the top of his bulging arm and tried desperately to grip the muscle – but to no avail.

“Big enough for you, son?” Papa Bear asked.

“Yes sir,” I replied, “and then some.”

“I’m always forgetting how big they are and busting the seams of my sleeves.  I probably ruin two shirts a week,” the big man said as we both stared at the mammoth mound, which he was tensing upward and then relaxing.  It was mesmerizing.  “Most folks say biceps are the muscles that most exemplify strength.  What do you think, boy?”

“When they’re as big as yours, sir, they certainly shout power – lots of power,” I answered.  “They used to be my favorite muscle on a huge man, but you’ve helped me see there are lots of other great muscles, as well.”

“Yeah, like what?” he asked.

“Well, after your arms, it’s kind of hard not to be immediately attracted to your tremendous chest, sir,” I said.  “It seems to go on forever.  But then, you’ve also got some keg-sized muscled thighs, abs of steel, shoulders wider than most doors – oh, and forearms that would even make Popeye jealous.  And then let’s not forget your insanely thick and powerful calves – they turn me on a lot.  So, I guess in answer to your question, I am attracted to all of your muscles. 

“That’s a great answer, kid,” he replied and leaned down to give me another kiss.  “It’s starting to feel like I finally found the real reason I’m so big.  I got to get going, sport.  Shall we clean up this kitchen?”

“I’d rather you leave that for me to do and, instead, we take a quick shower together,” I suggested. 

Before I could say another word I was back in his arms and we were headed back to the master bedroom.  My supersized shower – with two powerful jet showerheads seemed small as soon as Papa Bear stepped inside.  We spent the next fifteen minutes soaping up each other – his body taking a lot more time than mine because there was so much of him – and then we rinsed.  He picked me up like a child after wrapping me in a towel and dried me off while I was held aloft in his arms.  I watched him dry off, then dress, and finally we were standing at my front door.  It was obvious neither of us wanted the time to end.  He gave me a long kiss and then there was the exchange of a white envelope.  I could have sworn he found this moment as awkward as I did, but I knew that wasn’t possible.  As soon as he was gone, my place felt empty – such a huge presence had disappeared.  It was like knocking down a wall and then immediately missing it.  That night I called him to set up another meeting – for the upcoming weekend.  He picked up after the first ring.

“I was hoping you’d call and yes I’m available for any time you say,” was how he answered the phone.

This thrilled me more than I could have imagined.  It seemed like he was genuinely into me – and not just playing a part for the money.  I had thought hard about this conversation since I knew he would ask me what I wanted from him at our next visit.  And sure enough, after we had settled on the date and time, the big man asked his usual question.

“What do you need from Papa Bear this week, boy?” he growled.

“I would like you to be a dominant alpha, sir.  If that would be okay with you,” I said and I swear I could feel him smile.

“Are you sure, bub?  That’s my favorite role to play.  I can really get into the part,” he said – and I could tell he was very excited about the possibility of being allowed to be free to be the huge alpha he was.  

“I’m sure, sir.  I can handle it,” I replied – and this seemed to please him very much.

“Then listen very carefully, son,” he began.  “I want you to greet me at the door stark naked.  No underwear, no socks, and not even a ball cap.  I don’t care if neighbors are walking by or if there’s someone else at your door.  I’ll be there at eight.  Remember, you better be nude.  I want immediate easy access to all of you.  I don’t want to have to punish you right from the beginning.  You understand your Papa Bear, son?”

“Yes sir,” I replied, my excitement clearly obvious in my answer.

“That’s a good boy.  I’ll see you Saturday at eight,” he said and then hung up.  

A week can sometimes fly by or feel like an eternity.  That particular week felt like ten years.  I could think of nothing else other than groping Papa Bear’s huge arms, sucking on his massive succulent chest, and feeling his strong body underneath me as I was filled with his loving tool.  Twice, while sitting in important business meetings I had been asked a question and I said the word ‘muscles’ as my answer before I even realized what I was doing.  Another thing that made the week drag was the fact that I didn’t once let even a drop of my sweet juice ooze from my cock.  I wanted to save it for Papa Bear.  I wanted to explode so hard for him that night that it would be perfectly clear I had saved myself just for him.  When it was finally Saturday, I did more chores than ever in my life, just to fill the day so I wouldn’t beat off in anticipation of our meeting.  An hour before the big man arrived I stripped to my birthday suit.  I was so worried about disappointing the man that I walked around for sixty minutes completely naked.  At ten minutes until eight I stood by my front door – like a puppy waiting for its master to return.  The man’s loud knock ten minutes later made me jump and my cock shoot hard at the same time.  I opened the door quickly – ready to show my alpha what a good boy I was.  It had not dawned on me that Papa Bear might have chosen to do the same thing he had requested of me.  When I looked out, he stood there in all of his powerful glory – just as naked as I was.  A raging hard-on poked upward from his crotch and I immediately realized he was just as excited to be there as I was.  

“Good boy,” he bellowed in a low voice and I swear a big gob of pre-cum oozed from my cock in happy response to his pleased look.  “I have a feeling some of your neighbors are busy beating off right now.  I might have been too much for them.”

The man reached out, grabbed me under my arms, and then lifted me up to plant a big kiss on my face.  As usual, it wasn’t a pleasant caressing kiss – it was more like a cannon ball blasting through the side of a ship.   I was held aloft like some kind of child’s doll while the big man’s tongue pillaged my mouth in a way that made it clear Papa Bear was in total alpha mode.  He carried me a few steps into the place while using his foot to close the door behind him.  He pulled his face from mine and tossed my body to the ground – fortunately I was able to stay standing.  The big man’s chest was heaving up and down – like some kind of massive battleship riding waves in the ocean.  Again, it was clear that Papa Bear was just as excited as I was – and I briefly wondered if he had spent the entire week thinking about this moment, too.

“Come here,” he ordered, since his toss had sent me a few feet away.

I walked up to him and he immediately raised his arms into a full-on, mountainous double biceps pose that made my knees immediately begin to wobble.  I moaned out loud and this made he big man smile.  He tensed his arms so hard that his face turned red and I swear his biceps seemed to swell higher than they ever had before.  Papa Bea then let out a loud growl and threw his body into a frightening most-muscular pose.  Every part of his body seemed to scream power as it exploded in supersize.  If I hadn’t been turned on so much I clearly would have been petrified.  The man released the pose and then just stood there – bulging like some morphed version of a normal man.  I suddenly got the feeling he was calming himself down.  It dawned on me that the man clearly knew what he was capable of – how powerful he could be if he let himself go.  This was his way of not losing control – containing the alpha beast within him so he didn’t hurt something in my home or me.      

And that brings us right back to where this story began.

Papa Bear’s huge hand cupped the back of my head hard and then smashed my face into his massive pec.  I sucked his hairy nip with all of my might – ignoring the pain his hard-as-stone flesh inflicted.  I was in heaven, totally dominated by this older muscleman – used like a toy, yielding to his grip like a plaything abused by a toddler.  Papa Bear was grunting and moaning in a way that only fueled me on.  To know I was giving this man pleasure excited me so much.  To know he controlled the situation completely only made it that much hotter.  

“More teeth,” he ordered and I started roughly chomping down on the hard nub in my mouth.  “Hell yeah, that feels real good.  Don’t be afraid to use your molars, boy.”

When you parachute from a plane there must be this point – soon after the initial moment of utter panic – when you simply give up all worry and completely give yourself over to the air around you.  You submit to gravity and begin to enjoy the act of falling – the joy of being utterly free.  Held tightly in the steel like grip of this elder powerful man gave me the same kind of feeling of freedom.  I submitted myself completely to his lead – his control.  Every molecule of my being seemed to be fully erect – totally tuned in – to his dominance.  To be that free was a gift only a strong man could give.  

Of course, Papa Bear was aware of this fact, as well.  It was clear he knew he had me in the palm of his hand – both literally and figuratively.  He also didn’t abuse his power.  That was not his style.  He simply accepted the situation, as the way things should be.  He was bigger.  He was stronger.  He was older.  He assumed his rightful place as mentor, master, and dominator merely because of these concrete facts.  I was his Gumby doll to be folded and manipulated in any way he desired.  I was lucky to be his toy.  I was privileged in my submission and we both knew it.  I was the one paying for his services, but I was the product being used and not the other way around.

The strong hand gripped my hair again and jerked my head back – causing my teeth to pull his nip roughly at the same time.  The hard thing popped from my mouth as Papa Bear brought his lips down again for another round of face sucking.  His mouth suctioned onto mine like some kind of high-pressurized interlocking doors on the International Space Station.  There are kisses you remember because they are warm, gentle, and incredibly romantic – and then there are kisses etched in your memory because they are so manly and rough that you feel your own testosterone level has increased considerably.  Papa Bear didn’t really kiss – it was more like his mouth ravaged your entire insides.  His tongue dominated in the same way his powerful hands did – as if there was little awareness of the small being he plundered.  It’s not that he didn’t care – you could feel his passion even in the dominance – it was just that you were unable to resist him in any way even if you had wanted to.  

By now, my stiff-as-a-board cock was leaking copious amounts of gooey homage to my muscle master.  I couldn’t have turned off that pre-cum faucet even if I had squeezed my dick with all my might.  Papa Bear’s other hand – the one not strongly interlocked in my hair – slid down to my ass and one of his thick fingers teasingly caused my pucker hole to clamp tightly shut when it, again, brushed roughly across it.  My body was being stimulated simultaneously in so many areas that my eyes were beginning to roll back into my head.  The big man was like an orgasmic lightning bolt shocking the hell out of my body every few seconds – causing me to jerk up on the balls of my feet in excitement.  He again pulled his face from mine.

“Gonna make you my boy-sicle on a thick stick,” he said, gruffly.

His long powerful forefinger forced its way into me and I let out a loud moan that filled the room – making it clear that the invasion had been satisfying.  My poor clenched asshole had been defenseless against his penetration – again showing my weakness and his strength.  Papa Bear’s mouth clamped back down on mine, so his tongue could mirror the exploration his finger was doing below.  I was now his finger puppet – controlled in every way.

Submission isn’t weakness – no matter what anyone says.  It’s a gift that you have to choose to give.  There was no part of my body offering any resistance whatsoever at this point.  I submitted my entire being to this elder muscle god – in hopes that he would give me pleasure beyond my wildest dreams.  I didn’t just let him have his way with me – I encouraged him to completely view me as his.  My moans begged for it.  My open mouth and open ass screamed for it.  Every turned-on inch of my body gave permission for it.  

At this point we both knew he controlled my orgasm, too.  I was his loaded gun and he could pull the trigger any time he wanted.  His thick finger exploring my ass shaft or his tongue invading my throat could have easily sent me over the edge at any moment, but Papa Bear wasn’t done playing.  He wasn’t through showing me how he could dominate me on so many levels.  Suddenly, his finger retreated from my hole and I immediately missed its presence – its power.  I could tell he was amused as soon as I let out a disappointed whimper.  He liked making me need him so much.  His mouth left mine and again I profoundly felt the absence.  Luckily, his muscled body still pressed against me, so I continued to be consumed by his presence.  

“You’re completely mine now, boy,” he said, peering intensely into my eyes.  “I own you.”

“Yes sir,” I instinctively shot back – even though we both knew his words had been a statement and not a question.

“I make your sun rise and your sun set,” he added.

“Yes sir,” I answered – again, merely to show him my obedience.

Papa Bear rolled his monstrous pecs up and down just to give me a thrill.  I watched, mesmerized, as the hard muscled beef tensed upward and then tumbled back down like huge waves lapping onto a wide sandy beach.  The big man clearly knew his pecs could cause a muscle trance in any man he cared to show off for.  My mouth was open wide in awe as I saw the hard muscle tense and release – controlled completely by its master, just as I was.  It was the kind of perky bulging chest all pro bodybuilders dreamed of having and it was covered in his delicious salt-and-pepper fur.  The word ‘seasoned’ popped into my head as I stared at the bulging mass that had been shaped into perfection over many years in the gym.  I thought about all the incredible poundage that had been lifted day after day to make this man’s body pop out in such mouth-watering goodness.  Every fiber of his frame seemed to be hard and massive, but then he’d tense different parts and they’d grow even bigger.  The huge god raised his right biceps and flexed it hard near my face.

“Taste the power, son,” he said – again it sounded more like an order than a suggestion.

If your lips have never kissed warm, hard-as-hell muscle before then there is no possible way to explain the experience.  It’s like trying to explain the ocean to someone who’s never seen it – until they stand on the edge and see the incredible expanse, the majestic beauty of water going on and on, and hearing waves roll in they’ll never fully understand.  It’s the same when your mouth touches the expanse and majestic beauty of an older man’s huge rock-hard gun.  It’s when you finally do it, that it all makes sense.  When my lips pressed into his manly tight skin it was like a million little pins suddenly poked every part of my body in unified excitement.  There’s something about a flexed biceps that reeks of power, masculinity, and pure beastly dominance.  Both the worshipped and the worshipper feel this – it’s where the huge bodybuilder and the smaller plaything meet completely on the same level – and experience the same unleashed enjoyment.  The bigger man knows his gun is a giant magnet and the other guy gladly yields to the unbreakable force that pulls him into the muscle.  

Papa Bear’s massive triceps looked like the hull of an ocean liner – hanging down all tensed and enormous.  The blasting peak on top looked like a flesh covered mountain range.  His upper arm was much bigger than my head.  My face pressed against the hard skin and the only thing that filled my view was muscle.  I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply, and began kissing and licking the marbled wall before me.  I swear I could feel the testosterone oozing out of every pore of the huge man’s body.  It felt like my face was pressed against a bunch of bricks – or more like bricks covered in steel.  If I could have bottled the man’s aroma I would have called it ‘Strength’ because that’s what he smelled like.  Again, it was hard to explain, but you could sense the power of his arm and his entire body just by inhaling his sweetness deeply.  He radiated confidence, security, and something akin to an unstoppable force.  Papa Bear picked up on the fact that I was taking deep soothing breaths through my nose so I could savor his masculine scent.

“Let’s take you to smell central, boy,” he said and I could tell by something in his voice that he was smiling.

Again, a big paw grabbed the entire back of my head and, pushing my face harder into his skin, it slid me across the huge biceps and into his hairy, sweaty, muscled pit.  The man clearly knew it was exactly what I would want.  Even the bristles of hair in his arm cave seemed hard and powerful.  I immediately took a deep breath and my body shook with excitement as I inhaled his powerful bear musk.  It was the perfume of a Greek god – a mixture of sweat, muscle, manliness, and something that could only be described by the word ‘security.’  I could have stayed pressed into that man-cavity for the rest of my life.  I let my tongue dart out many times just to lap up some of the delicious taste of pure masculinity.  I was sure my own muscles would grow a tad bigger just from licking some of his testosterone-laden pits.  I also had a feeling I’d be sprouting some thicker hair all over my body, as well.  It was obvious that Papa Bear liked having his pits cleaned – he was grunting and moaning even louder than before.  This only made me want to bury my face deeper into the pit.  I started kissing, licking, and sucking his underarm like I was some kind of muscle pig.  

“Gotta fucking kiss you again, man,” he grunted suddenly.

It was as if Papa Bear could no longer restrain himself for some reason.  He quit flexing his gun, pulled my face from his pit, and then grabbed me roughly by the ass and lifted me into the air.  He slid his hands down my legs – encouraging me to wrap them around his waist.  He latched onto my thighs tightly as he walked towards the wall.  Once he had my back firmly against the solid plaster he let go of my legs.  My body was held in place merely from the force of his powerful body pressing into me.  It was difficult to breathe, but I didn’t care.  Being surrounded by all of his muscle was pure heaven.  He brought his hands up to my cheeks and then pressed his lips against mine.  I had thought he had kissed me roughly before, but all of that was child’s play compared to this super hyped-up suction kiss.  Immediately, it felt as if Papa Bear’s tongue was going to push my head through the wall.  Even this particular muscle in his mouth seemed to be super powerful.  His hands squeezed my head tightly and his body pressed me against the wall even harder.  Again, Papa Bear suddenly pulled his face from mine and spoke as if his life depended on his next move.

“Gotta be inside you, son,” he growled, and I swear I almost came.

While keeping my body in place simply by pinning it between the wall and his huge chest, Papa Bear reached down and latched his big hands on both of my ass cheeks.  He then started pulling them apart – opening me wide.  Soon, I felt the stone-like tip of his thick long cock press into my hole.  People often forget that a man’s dick is a muscle, too.  It needs to be worked out and trained just like a biceps or a quad.  Papa Bear had clearly been pumping his tool for many, many years.  It was powerful beyond words.  The fat mushroom head felt like it could puncture steel.  He pulled his chest back a little and let my entire weight fall down on the hard head.  I sat there anticipating some kind of loud pop when he plunged into me, but Papa Bear had a different plan.  He let my body sit on top of his hard tool for a while – teasing me and making my body ache for his manly invasion.  It was only when I began to whimper like a begging puppy – in need of his plowing – that he finally acknowledged me.  

“You’re mine now, son.  You wanted to be dominated tonight – controlled – and now you’ve met your master.  I’m gonna make your every thought and desire come true.  I’m gonna make you wish I was inside of you twenty-four-seven.”

This was exactly what I had wanted when I called the man earlier that week.  I had said I needed him to dominate me, but what I had really wanted was to give myself up to him in an orgasmic offering.  I wanted to submit myself in a way that would please both of us beyond anything we’d ever experienced before.  We were about to meld into one. Very soon I would be like one of his huge muscles hanging all over different parts of his body.  It would register to him that I was another human – but I would be part of the big man – something wrapped around his cock to give him pleasure.  I had no way of stopping what was coming – even if I had wanted to.  I was his gift to open – his man to plow, as he wanted.  I could feel every part of my being giving itself to him – my ass, my thoughts, my desires, and my love.  I needed him inside me in the same way I needed air.  It wasn’t something I constantly thought about, but once I was awakened to the need it consumed me completely.

It was clear that Papa Bear understood how I felt – and not just because he was being paid.  He sensed my devotion – my total submission.  I also got the feeling that he gave himself to me in the same way – becoming my protector, my rock, and my muscle guardian.  Of course, my brain kept saying he’s a paid hustler and he’s just good at his job – don’t think he’s fallen for you.  But my heart kept saying the man had desire for me that went way beyond just doing a good job.  When his cock head burst through the gate of my love chute it was like the most dramatic part of some kind of celestial symphony or the highlight of a magnificent firework’s extravaganza.  We both moaned in unison and then I gasped out loudly as my body slid down his long thick tool.

To be filled by a strong muscular man is such a reward – such a real-life fantasy coming true.  But to be filled completely while being held in the air – strong arms holding you and huge legs supporting the weight, and a giant chest pressing into you – now, that is beyond heaven.  Being connected to an older powerful muscle bear in such an intimate way could be fodder for all the jerk-off moments of the rest of an entire football team’s lives.  As wonderful as it was to be in this position there was also part of me that wished I could be across the room watching it.  To see this big man impaling me while he easily held my body in the air would have been a picture I wanted in my mind forever.  And then Papa Bear did a strong pelvic thrust that sent my body upward and I slid back down his tool with a big smack at the bottom.  It was as if his crotch now controlled everything.  The friction made in my ass from his move was almost too much to handle.  I was afraid of spewing.  It took all of my concentration to not unload my entire cum-bank in one huge explosion.  The big man clearly sensed this and knew how to prevent it.

“You cum when I say you can, son.  And only then,” he growled as he continued to bounce me up and down on his cock with successive thrusts.

The man was powerful enough to easily lift me in the air and keep me there for a long time.  I also had the feeling I hadn’t begun to see the total strength in his body.  But it was his intention – no, his complete acceptance that he could control my orgasm - that excited me beyond what I could have ever imagined.  My body instantly obeyed his command.  I immediately knew my jacked-beyond-belief cock would await his ‘okay’ before it exploded – no matter how close he edged me towards release.  Papa Bear, of course, controlled the tsunami that was building within me.  My release was his and only his to control.  Every fiber of my being submitted itself to him.  He realized this fact.  He sensed how his words had made my cock obey – instantly.  He let out a loud grunt – continued to thrust his crotch even more – and pulled my body away from the wall.  He walked us both to the middle of the room – my body still impaled on his strong tool and still bouncing up and down in response to his powerful thrusts.

Every time I came slamming down on his cock after his crotch jerks would send me upwards I’d moan loudly – uncontrollably egging him on.  Papa Bear began to air fuck me even harder – grabbing me at the waist so he could enhance the bouncing of my body with his powerful arms.  I would slam down on his tool even harder – giving him more pleasure than the time before.  My clenched ass was basically his tool for getting off – as if it was just a coincidence I was a human being.  The goal of the entire pounding process was to give himself the kind of release fit for a huge muscle god.  I was his orgasmic plaything and the pleasure I was getting and would receive just happened to be a by-product of his own powerful titanic release.  I had ceased to be the client – I was the means to an end, a very big, pleasurable end.

Meanwhile, I just enjoyed the ride - groping his big hard arms as he easily manhandled my body up and down on his big tool.  Seeing Papa Bear’s body getting jacked even more as he pumped me up and down and in and out was like porn heaven.  A light sheen of sweat now covered his entire bulging body – only enhancing the size of his rock-hard muscles.  My giant elder dominator was now in his own world.  He, of course, still knew I was there – still knew his job was to please me – but he also knew getting himself off was what I wanted most.  My much-needed orgasm was important – but not nearly as important as seeing Papa Bear pump out a testosterone-laden eruption of his powerful juice.  I wanted to be filled with his sweetness – and then I wanted to hear his command allowing me to cum.  My body was now full of boiling man honey – fueled completely by Papa Bear’s muscles and confident attitude.  I was a dam ready to burst – begging to explode – and he was the superman capable of busting through.  

The bucking of the big man’s hips increased to what seemed like super sonic speed.  My ass was being pounded heavier than it had ever been before.  I tightened my sphincter just to give him more pleasure.  At the same time I continued to run my hands all over his tensed bulging biceps – his muscles causing me to get excited way beyond what I had ever imagined possible.  I was bouncing up and down so hard I was afraid I was going to break something.  The big man’s moans were getting louder and louder and I could tell he was close to his titanic eruption.  His body was tense all over and this caused giant veins to pop out everywhere.  He looked like some Greek god pulling down the pillars of a huge temple.  I could feel the intensity of my on orgasm building just from the way his body now looked.  Suddenly, his moans stopped and his body tightened up even more.  He slammed me down to the base of his cock and kept me there with a strong grip – and then he bellowed loudly.

“Cum, boy!”

Happier words had never reached my ears.  My body obeyed its master immediately.  A volcanic eruption shot forth from my cock – sending a huge blast of cum into the air, which then rained down and splattered against his huge pecs with a loud smack.  As I continued to send out volley after volley of my warm seed, the big man’s giant tool pulsed strongly in my ass and then spewed forth like some kind of untapped fire hydrant.  I was instantly filled with a hot wet lava-like sensation.  It definitely felt like some dam has been burst – wave after wave of his love juice shot into me with a fierceness that was unfathomable.  The loud beast-like grunts that accompanied each thrust of his hard-as-hell cock added even more pleasure to the moment.  Again, Papa Bear was lost in his orgasm.  I was now only the little plaything that was getting him off.  I’m sure it registered to the giant elder man that I was there, but it didn’t matter – his body was so on fire with his ejaculation he pounded me like a heavyweight boxer taking out his frustrations on a punching bag.  Each thrust of his crotch sent his massive rod deeper into my love canal and this caused me to cum even harder.  The strong elder man started to walk around the room as his rod sent a few last missile spurts into my body.  My own still-hard cock continued to gurgle out cum – even though I was sure my body had never been emptied the way it just had.      

“Fuck . . . I’m so jacked, boy!  Take a look at all that power, babe,” Papa Bear said, and I immediately knew he was staring at our reflection in the giant mirror on the far wall of my dining room, since he had stopped all movement.

The first time you stand at the edge of the Grand Canyon you immediately understand your own insignificance in the scheme of the universe in a new way.  At the same, time, however you realize you are part of the beauty of the cosmos, as well.  Seeing my small frame being held in the gargantuan pumped-to-hell arms of this super Gramps caused the same exact reaction in me.  I was being held by a force . . . a power . . . a beast so big it made me feel like a tiny insect.  At the same time, however, the enormous man’s strength empowered me in a way that was hard to describe.  It was like his testosterone was infectious.  Because his herculean body was so easily holding me, I felt safer, more secure, and more supported than ever before.  Papa Bear was, indeed, ‘jacked’ beyond belief.  I could see why the elder man had been so pleased.  Muscles didn’t just bulge out all over his body – they were more like some morphed-up 3-D version of the man being projected onto an immense IMAX screen.  My entire upper torso was puny compared to his granite-like massive beach ball sized biceps.  His gun looked like he had just finished some three-hour lifting session – focused only on his arms.  For a second I actually thought the man’s powerful biceps and triceps would make the Grand Canyon look lame.  This senior man had held me aloft for so long I had forgotten that most people are not able to carry grown humans around for that amount of time.  And there was no evidence of the man being even the least bit tired.  I was still impaled by his stiff rod and it was obvious, from the pulsations below that Papa Bear was turned on by our reflection.  He noticed that I was staring at the huge hard peak of his arm, so he let go of my ass with one hand – easily holding me in place with the other – and then balled up his fist, and flexed the biceps at his side.

“I’ve always been big, boy,” he said – in a low growl-like voice – like he was starting a fairy-tale story for a child.  “My mom said she could feel me flexing in her womb.  The doctor said I came out already chiseled like a tiny gymnast – a six-pack and bulging biceps.  No one knew what made me so muscled – they said it must have been lucky genetics.  The medical profession was a little taken aback by howmuch weight I gained those first few months and how I skipped the baby ‘fat’ period and went straight to being stacked.  They said I used to crawl under my playpen and bench it up and down before I could even walk.  My dad said I liked to crush and bend things before I could even sit up.  He said he could tell that my unformed brain still understood that I needed to work out.  At three years old I could whoop the asses of my two brothers – who were six and eight.  They said I used to pick them up and toss them across the room and then stand over them flexing my body.  I don’t really remember that, but I do remember always being stronger than my friends and other kids in my grade.  When I was six years old I could beat my dad at arm wrestling.  At my elementary school there was this big burly janitor named Stefan, who noticed how big and strong I was and encouraged me to start lifting weights.  He had a basic set of dumbbells and barbells at his office in the boiler room.  I would go there every afternoon and he’d show me the correct way to lift for maximum growth and strength.  He couldn’t believe how quickly I caught on or how fast I grew.  When I left for junior high he said I was stronger than most college dudes and I was already bulging through my clothes so much that many teachers thought I was wearing multiple layers.  The day Principal Donovan told me to take off my sweatshirt because he thought I was wearing padding was the best.  I slowly pulled the thing off and then bounced my beefy pecs a few times followed by a few flexes of my arms.  Old man Donovan looked like he had seen a ghost.  He turned red, moved his clipboard down to his crotch, and stammered as he told me to put my shirt back on.  Is my little story making you happy boy?”

“Yes sir.  Very much, sir,” I whispered back as I looked up to his bearded manly face.

“Good, I like it when you’re happy,” he said, smiling down at me.  “I bumped into Mr. Donovan about twenty years later at the supermarket.  His open-mouthed stare and wide eyes made it clear he was shocked – and pleased – by how big I’d grown.  He had to actually crane his neck back to look me in the face and I was about twice the size of him.  We chatted for a while and one thing led to another.  Soon, I was at his house - squeezing his face between my pecs, crushing his head between my biceps and forearm, and compressing all the air out of his body between my tree-trunk sized thighs.  I’d never seen a guy so into being dominated – well, up until you.  He’d beg me to shake hands with him and squeeze so tight that I worried I’d crush his bones.  It was wild.  He didn’t want sex and I was shocked that he never spurted – not one time while I was there.  But he told me when I was leaving he had never been with someone so huge and strong.  He said it would be a night he would never forget and I have the feeling that old man Donovan still thinks about me and our time together and busts out huge wads that bring him close to blacking out.  

“I know the feeling,” I said, smiling.

“Yeah, you do,” he said, still holding me in the air.  “When I was nine there was this kid named Jared who got his mother to make us superhero costumes.  He insisted I wear the Superman outfit and I don’t even remember what character he was.  It wasn’t important to Jared, either; he just wanted me to dress up as Superman.  He then insisted we wrestle, even though I outweighed him by over a hundred pounds.  He was groping my muscles big time as we wrestled and I started to get my first major boner from showing off.  At one point I had him pinned to his bed and he whispered in my ear, ‘Lift me over your head.’  My cock shot rock hard at the thought and a few seconds later I had his smaller body easily in the air – held aloft by my bulging arms as if he weighed nothing.  I started walking around the room and as soon as we both got a look at ourselves in the mirror over his dresser we simultaneously shot through puberty.  We both busted out our first boy wads – dumping major amounts of hot cum into our costumes.  I couldn’t believe how fucking huge and strong I looked holding him in the air.  My arms didn’t drop even a fraction of an inch as I spewed my torrential load.  Jared’s body continued to flop around in my strong hands long after my explosion had ended and that’s the first time I realized my supersized muscles had a mysterious power over some fellas.  At first, I worried about what my penis had just done, thinking I was sick or something, but then I remembered hearing some older boys talking about ‘getting off’ and I quickly figured out this is what they meant.  On top of that, it felt so freaking awesome I knew it must be something good.  We both spewed about four more times that night, from me curling him, doing push-ups with him on my back, and a lot more, but nothing got us both off as much as each time I lifted him over my head.  Jared needed little time to refuel his body – especially when I would lift his body up and down, easily using him as my boy-bell.  When his orgasm would finally end he’d look at my reflection in the mirror and say something like, ‘Toss me on the bed, Superman.’  It was such an incredible night.   

“I’d love to see you in a superhero costume sometime,” I said, smiling.

“We can make that happen, “ he said, just as happy as I was at the idea.  “High school was better than I ever could have imagined.  I was the biggest guy on campus.  Who knew so many horny athletes would dig my muscles so much.  I lasted two weeks on the wrestling team, but Coach Williams told me I couldn’t do it anymore after that because I was just too strong and too big.  Nobody wanted to practice with me and he knew other schools would swear I was in my twenties.  At first I was pretty upset, but then Coach told me I could use the Senior Gym any time I wanted.  A freshman in the Senior Gym was unheard of and they didn’t like it one bit - that is, until I came in, stripped down to my shorts and started lifting.  I curled with one arm what the strongest guy could bench – so they immediately became submissive little gymbos trying to win my attention and affection.  Ryan Smith, the captain of the football team, seemed to adore me the most.  He constantly begged me to show off my strength – lifting benches loaded with ten guys, hoisting up the back of some car, and picking up his tight jock body with one hand and holding him overhead.  That last feat used to please him the most.  That’s pretty much when I started learning exactly how to please fellas.  Guys would invite me for sleepovers and insist we play gladiator or superheroes, just like Jared.  They always wanted to be the bad guy and have me use my powers to subdue them.  It’s when I learned to role-play.  Can’t lie, son, I got off on it, too.”

“How could you not?” I replied.

“Exactly.  College is when I got into bodybuilding and dominated the amateur circuit in my state.  It was fun for a while and I loved having auditoriums full of screaming fans, but there was something about one-on-one muscle worship that got my juices flowing more than anything else in the world.  To have a smaller guy begging me to flex, needing me to show off, and wanting my muscles more than even air, itself, was like the biggest adrenaline rush I’d ever felt.  Suddenly, I wasn’t just building huge muscles for myself anymore, I was doing it to please guys that would never get the chance to know what being big felt like.  I viewed it kind of like charity work – helping dudes live out their fantasies.  That’s also about the time I met Doc.  I was about twenty-two and I literally bumped into this wall of muscle at the gym one day.  When I glanced up from where I was knocked down on the ground I beheld a strapping white-haired behemoth.  He smiled down at me, said ‘sorry little fella,’ held out his hand and told me everyone called him ‘Doc.’ My feet came off the floor when he pulled me upward and I had never felt a grip so tight – or seen paws so big.  Doc reached around and squeezed the back of my neck hard and told me I was a cute little man.  It was the wildest thing – every time he referred to me as small my cock pulsed harder than it already was and I felt giddy as a schoolgirl with a first crush.

“How old was Doc?” I asked, and Papa Bear smiled, knowing older muscle men turned me on.  

“Older than I am now.  He was probably sixty-seven or sixty-eight and built like a tank.  He wasn’t a pretty-man bodybuilder – no, he was a sexy-as-fuck powerlifter who was thicker than a building.  I was bigger than most men, but he was a giant compared to me.  I followed him around the gym like a puppy that day – hoping to learn anything I could, but secretly hoping I could win his favor or something more.  It was the weirdest experience for me – to be on the other side of muscle adoration.  Suddenly, I wasn’t the alpha.  I was the smaller guy begging for a show or some kind of attention.  When he was finally done with his strong-as-fuck put-me-to-shame lifting he grabbed his bag and headed toward the door.  He turned around near the exit, looked at me, and only said, ‘Heel boy.’  I was at his side in mere seconds and I never left it.  Doc trained me for twenty years.  He taught me things like how to make a man cum by lifting him with one hand around his neck and how to give a man maximum pleasure while fucking him in mid-air.”

“I’ve had first-hand experience of how well you learned that, sir,” I quickly said.

“Indeed you have,” Papa Bear replied – smiling down at me.

“What happened to Doc?” I asked – and I swear I saw Papa Bear’s eyes mist up a little when he spoke.

“The man was lifting until age 90.  He was still huge and powerful.  Five days after his ninetieth birthday he died of a massive heart attack.  Your Papa Bear has never been so sad in all of his life, son.  This is the man that molded me more than anyone else.  He helped me to zoom beyond what I thought were growth and strength plateaus.  He also taught me how to be as gentle as a kitten and how that can be as much of a turn-on as tremendous power.  Doc always said his proudest day was when I finally lifted more weight than him.  Granted, this wasn’t until I was about thirty-four.  The man just never seemed to stop growing or getting stronger.  But the day I out lifted him he did something I never expected – he let me plow him.  It was like finding the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow – the big man offering his ass to me.  The man was so big and strong I was able to go wild and fuck him with all of my power – and that pleased him more than either of us expected.  That night, while we lay in bed after having sex for the fourth time, he looked into my eyes and said, “You’re the alpha now, kid.  I’m still the boss – just because of my age – but you’re the top man.  I’ve plowed so many asses – including your own – it will be good to be submissive for a while.  Who knows, maybe I’ll get stronger than you again one day, but I doubt it.  My kid’s growing up to be a fucking beast and one day men will cream in their pants simply because you bent your arm in a tight t-shirt.”

“That, alone, can make me shoot,” I said.

“Son, you squirt when I only bounce my pecs once,” he said teasingly, but we both knew he was right on the money.

“Simply because of their size, sir” I replied and then asked,  “Aren’t you getting tired of holding me?” 

“Not at all, son,” he answered.  “As a matter of fact, I completely forgot about it.”

“Just how strong are you, Papa Bear?” I asked.

“How strong do you want me to be?” he teasingly shot back.

“The strongest,” I quickly said.

“Done,” he replied and jiggled my body up and down in his hands as if to emphasize the point.  “I need to tell you something, son.  And it might make you a little mad, so I apologize in advance.”

“Okay . . .” I said, tentatively, not sure where the conversation was headed.

“I’m not a real hustler,” Papa Bear said.

“What?” I asked, very confused.

“About four weeks ago you were very drunk at The Eagle.  Do you remember?” he asked, referring that favorite haunt of mine.

“Yes,” I replied, knowing exactly what night he was talking about.  

“You were at the bar pouring your heart out to Sam, the bartender – going on about how stressful work was and how you didn’t have time for dating.  You told Sam you wished you could just find someone you could pay to have sex with – someone huge and older.  Those were your only conditions.  Do you remember,” Papa Bear asked.

“I do,” I again replied.  I had been drowning my sorrows about another ended romance and how there didn’t seem to be any true alphas in the world.

“I had been watching you all night, kid, but you were too drunk to notice.  When you left I asked Sam about you and he said you were one of the nicest guys around.  He also said you made lousy choices when it came to men,” the elder big man said, laughing.

“That’s last part is pretty accurate,” I replied.

“Well, two nights later I asked Sam, who happens to be a good friend, to slip you a fake flyer I had created the next time he saw you.  I knew what you were looking for, so I put a picture of my biceps on the paper, along with the invitation to have a true alpha make all your dreams come true.  A day later I was ecstatic when you called,” he said.  “I’m really sorry and I’d understand if you didn’t want to see me again.”

“What?” I asked, honestly surprised by his words.  “Why wouldn’t I want to see you?”

“Well I did lie to you,” he answered, “and I kind of took advantage of the situation.”

“Yes, yes you did.  However, it didn’t feel like the sex or the conversations were ever a lie,” I said.

“No, all of that was real . . . and the best sex I’ve ever had,” Papa Bear added.

“Same for me,” I answered back, “but I do have one important question.”

“What’s that?” Papa Bear asked and I could tell he was nervous about what was going to come.

“Where’s my money?  I paid you a lot of money for two visits,” I said, smiling at him.

“I put it in a safe place,” he answered.  “I was hoping we might use it one day for something fun . . . like a vacation.”

“Or maybe a honeymoon,” I replied and the smile on big Papa Bear’s face was priceless.  In response he bounced his monstrous pecs and squeezed my ass tightly. 

[arpeejay 6747]

Best line of 2017:

“Gonna make you my boy-sicle on a thick stick,” he said, gruffly.

(I'll have to tell you sometime about a boy-cicle I knew!)

And, if that wasn't enough, growth Growth GROWTH!

Thanks for the belated birthday present!

[londonboy 2246]

Thank you, sir for always being so kind.  I'm glad I could add to your birthday happiness.

[MuscleGodInTraining 419]

I'm in love with this story. Older muscle men are always what I prefer and this story was one of the best things I've ever read. Honest to God legitimate fantasy of mine. Thanks for this. 

[londonboy 2246]

My pleasure.  I'm glad you enjoyed it.

[hempmonkey 102]

Great stuff, as one might expect. Thanks for sharing!

[Astromuscle 513]

7 hours ago, londonboy said:

 

[Selfishly, this story has things I love - older men, romance, sex, and strength.  I humbly submit it as my offering to this great event.]

 

Dude it's your story! You be as selfish as you want! Apparently it turned out great (I don't have enough time to read it right now lol, so I get to hear how everyone liked it, and myself not be able to read it until much later :'(    )

[Scriptboy 4654]

Every story by Londonboy is a classic. Thank you for this wonderful addition to the Storiversary collection. 

[liftme 332]

your stories are fantastic!!!   You continue to amaze and excite me with them.  Thank you for all you do to make us happy.

[cutlerfan 1249]

So damn hot! Smoldering lust filling the screen with more and more desire. Culminating in a such a total and complete bonding..the tenderness and romance evident without being sappy. It's rare to find such a fantastic blending of love and power! Amazing!