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Thanks so much for the feedback. I do have some plot coming up, but want to get a few things established first. It's just taking my much, much longer to write than I thought it would! Hope you're in for slow release.

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Chapter 3:

I spent several days checking my phone every fifteen minutes. Every time I received a text my pulse raced, sure it was Sir… it never was. I was willing contact so much that I occasionally felt phantom vibrations in my thigh. I was determined not to contact him. I knew he must get hit up all the time, and I didn’t want to appear too eager. I got the impression that if I came on too strong, he would vanish. I’d give him time.


It was ten days before he contacted me. Ten days of replaying our muscle worship scene over and over again whenever I had the chance for my mind to wander. If I was lucky and at home, I would masturbate furiously. If I were at work, or on the bus, I’d have to snap out of the memory and try to hind my erection.

The long awaited text said “Wee Jock! Same place, same rules, 8pm.”

It was a little earlier this time, I wondered what that might mean. It was only 12:30pm, I had hours to wait and an afternoon of work to get through. I made myself busy to stop myself thinking about it. I knew I couldn’t work well with all my blood in my groin.

I left work, got home to shower, shave and prepare myself. I knew not to worry much about what I wore this time. I booked a taxi for 7:30. When it arrived I was waiting outside, impatient to get to his house.

After the taxi dropped me off, I approached the victorian front door once again, this time, although I was still nervous, the over-riding emotion was excitement. Once again there was a shoebox in the cupboard. Another jockstrap, red this time, and another note with a key:

“Let yourself in and wait for me.”

Sir obviously didn’t feel the need to instruct me on removing my clothing and putting on the jockstrap. Once suitably dressed, I let myself in to his home once again. The lights were off, and after some groping around I found the switch. I closed the door behind me, and took up my position in the middle of the square hallway. The clock on the left wall let me know I was around ten minutes early. There was no sign that Sir was at home. I wanted to have a look around but knew that at any moment he could emerge and I doubted I would be invited back if I wasn’t waiting in the hall as instructed.

As I stood there the slight chill caused my nipples to become erect and my skin formed goose pimples. I heard movement behind me outside the front door. The storm door opened and closed. There was a delay of a few minutes. I could hear some shuffling, and the little cupboard in the porch opening and closing. After what felt like an hour, but must only have been two minutes, I heard the door unlock again and someone enter the hall. I remained frozen in place: facing away from the door, feet shoulder width apart, hands clasped behind me at my lower back, my bear cheeks displayed to whoever had entered. I hoped it was Sir, but the thought of it being another crossed my mind.

“Well that is a nice sight to be welcomed home to.” Sir’s deep voice stirred something deep within my core. My heart started beating faster. I didn’t turn around. I didn’t speak. But my cheeks involuntarily flexed for a second. I heard footsteps behind me and then Sir’s hand ran down my back, over my right cheek and he groped it. A satisfied moan originated from high above me. I blushed at the thought that this adonis was pleased with my body. The reason I was hear was to worship him, it hadn’t occurred to me that he might enjoy looking or feeling my much smaller body.

The footsteps retreated back to the door. “Turn around” Sir instructed.

As I slowly flowed his command I was met with the sight of this giant, muscle bound man, adorned in a fitted suit. Each cut highlighted his athletic frame. There was no straining of the fabric, no puckering of the lapels and no tightness of the single button that was holding the jacket closed. This was not a suit that he was obscenely filling: this was a work of art, wrapped around the living artwork of his body. There was no way this was simply bought of the rack. This must have been a bespoke suit, the quality of which expressed the expense it must have cost.

“Wow.” Was all I could say.

“When we chatted online you mentioned you liked seeing a well build man in a well fitted suit. I thought you’d appreciate me changing back in to my work clothes after the gym this evening.”

“Yes I do, Sir.” My eyes were wide, darting across his body, seeing his upper arms fill the sleeves, the cut of the jacket tapering to his narrow waist, and his trousers emphasising the size of his quads, which all set my cock throbbing. “That’s the best fitting suit I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s my favourite,” he said as he straightened his tie with both hands. The motion caused his biceps to swell within the cloth. There was no restriction of movement. This was perfection in fashion form.

“May I feel it?” He grinned then nodded.

“Certainly, Wee Jock.”

I stepped towards him, hands outstretched, ready to grope as soon as they landed on his body. My right hand went for his left bicep, my left hand on his pec. He held his forearm across his torso and flexed both for me. The feeling of his hard muscle underneath the shifting layers of clothing was a new experience for me. I couldn’t help but vocalise my pleasure.

He shifted, preforming a most muscular pose. My hands moved to feel his swollen pecs under the rich cotton shirt. He put both hands on my shoulders and waited until I looked at his face. I loved how much I had to strain my neck back to look up at him from this close.

“Now, Wee Jock. When a man enters this house dressed as finely as this, there are rules. I expect you to show a well dressed man your respect and admiration in this house.” His grin was bordering on a smirk… as was mine.

I lowered myself to my knees and started running my hands up and down Sir’s expansive thighs. He unbuttoned his jacket and his bulge was obviously swelling down his right trouser leg. I let my thumb flick across his hardening head. I started paying closer attention to his crotch and enjoyed watching as his cock lengthened and thickened, pushing the trouser fabric aside, as if it were a burrowing animal just below the soil. As I ran my hands across it, I could feel it harden. As I continued I marvelled at watching his ample appendage as it ticked round from the seven to ten o’clock position.

I put my mouth around his bulbous head, mouthing and gently bitting it. He rewarded me with a hand on the back of my head, gently rubbing his fingers through my close cropped hair. I sealed my lips around the tip and exhaled, pushing warm air through the fabric and causing a dampness to register in my mouth. Sir’s groans let me know he enjoyed my ministrations.

I reached for his fly, pulling the zipper down slowly, carefully. He wasn’t wearing any underwear. Was this normal for his every day work life? As I slipped my hand inside his trousers I thought about him free balling all day in his expensive suits. He must have excellent control, for a man of his dimensions wouldn’t be able to hide any excitement. With some effort, and a little shifting from Sir, I was able to free his cock from it’s fabric confinement. At once I started on its already wet head. My tongue quickly spreading the mixture of saliva and precum up and down his shaft. I made my tongue wide and flat, rubbing it against the frenulum, then slurping his head as if I were preventing an ice cream cone from dripping on a hot day. 

After enough teasing I started slipping my mouth over his head and back, sticking my tongue out as he went in. A second hand joined the back of my head. I put my hands on his shaft. There would be room enough for both of his hands, but my small hands left several inches for my mouth to play with. I started milking him whilst my mouth massaged him. He gripped my head in encouragement and started swaying his hips in time with my head movements. His groans of approval making the firmness in my own turgid member pleasurably unbearable.

After a few moments, he removed his hands to loosen his tie. He undid it, leaving the ends hanging around his neck. He brought his left hand down to my head, rubbed his thumb affectionately down my cheek, and then cupped his hand around the back of my head again. With his right hand, he started unbuttoning his shirt, from top to bottom. I looked up and watched as the two curtains fell away, revealing the performance on centre stage. Despite reliving this view repeatedly in my memory multiple times a day, it didn’t compare with the real thing. His chiselled six pack flexing as he thrust his hips forward, his overhanging pecs, the clear central channel up to his handsome face; I could feel the precum seeping in to my jockstrap.

I dove down his shaft, moving my hands away as I went. His cock head hitting the back of my mouth and pushing itself down in to my throat. I bobbed over the last inch a few times as I swallowed again and again, milking his engorged penis. The saliva build up in my mouth as I fought against the gagging sensation, adding lubrication to my deep throating. Sir stayed still and growled a low, long, “y-e-s!”

I withdrew, strings of precum and saliva connecting my mouth to his dick. As I took a few deep breaths, he shrugged off his jacked, shirt and tie. I grabbed his cock again, focussing my attention on his flared head.

As I sucked and licked, he undid his belt, allowing him to open his trousers properly. Whilst he rummaged within his trousers to get out his balls, I moaned in delight at the sight of his pecs squeezing themselves together. I brought a hand up to reach, but could only get my fingertips around them. I had been climbing years previously and this felt similar to searching for finger holds around a rocky outcrop, his flesh was so firm.

When he freed his balls I turned my attention to them, slowly rubbing my right hand up and down his wet shaft as I licked his smooth testicles whilst I massaged his taint with my left hand. My head was being firmly held by Sir now as he ground in to me. Within a few minutes he told me to stop. I dutifully obeyed, already missing his taste in my mouth.

“In to the bedroom, NOW!” The look on his face was intense. His whole face was red, and the veins along his temples and neck were throbbing. If it weren’t for his massive erection I’d have thought he was angry, but I knew he was trying desperately to hold back.

I turned and ran ahead of him, assuming my “at ease” stance facing this doorway. I wouldn’t have to wait long this time.
 

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Chapter 4

I stood in his bedroom, wearing nothing but the red jockstrap that Sir had supplied. My chest was heaving as I tried to catch my breath. Sir entered the room completely naked, his massive erection pointing the way. He dominated the doorway, his shoulders almost touching both sides at once. I noticed he had to duck his head slightly as he passed through the threshold. He too was catching his breath.

He walked over to me, lent far down to my right and placed both hands on my hips. Before I knew what was going on he had stood back up again, taking me with him; turning me around so that he was holding me in the air, upside down.

“Open your legs.” Sir instructed. As the blood rushed to my head and I caught my bearings I did as I was told. No sooner had I opened my legs did I feel Sir’s face push through them. He started licking the exposed part of my taint, biting on the inner surface of my cheeks, teasing my roughly. I opened my legs further, bringing my knees down over each of his shoulders, using the purchase to push my hole closer to his exploring mouth. I was greeted by his expert tongue running rings around my anus. My erection pushing in to the cleavage of his pecs. I made some kind of affirmative noise I had no control over.

I couldn’t believe he was standing there, holding my entire weight as if it was nothing, and giving me the best rim of my life. All the while I was hanging there burrowing my face in to his abs. It was then that I realised his warm cock was pushed up against my ear. I put both hands on his hips to steady and position myself, before sucking and slurping on his cock head for all I was worth. Sir gripped me firmer, burrowing himself into my hole with a ravishing greed.

I had never even known a vertical sixty-nine was possible, let alone sustainable for so long. He must have heald me there for over five minutes. My hole ached to be filled, but I didn’t want my mouth to become empty again. I could feel my pulse in my eyes and ears. The world was beginning to go fuzzy at the edges of my vision. But I didn’t care, as long as I still could see him; as long as I could still feel his hard muscles beneath his taught skin; as long as I could taste him in my mouth.

Sir pulled himself away from my eager hole and raised his hands above his head slowly. The sadness from feeling his cock pop out of my mouth was replaced by the awe of the slowly moving landscape before my eyes. The foothills of his abs passing by to become dwarfed by the mountains of his pecs. The journey’s joyful conclusion was his smiling, inverted face, but it suddenly started looking a bit concerned.

“Looking a wee bit red there, Wee Jock. Time to get you right side up again.”

He continued to lift me a bit higher, but mostly backwards and to my right. He adjusted my weight so that I was placed over his right shoulder. He adjusted the grip of his right hand, dropped his left and moved towards the chest of drawers as if he had just slung a towel over his shoulder rather than a grown man. I may not be tall or muscular, but I was still about nine stone!

He opened the top drawer and pulled out a condom, a bottle of lube, and a small towel. “I’ve been wanting to try this since last time we met.” So he’s been thinking about me in between bootie calls. He rolled the condom down his long shaft. “When I picked you up so easily last time, I knew this would be fun.” A few pumps of lube on his covered cock, and then wiping his hands on the towel. “And holding you upside down has just proved I’ve got the strength and stamina for this.” I was excited and nervous, not only did what was about to come sound thrilling, but my whole body was being balanced on one of Sir’s enormous shoulders.

“What are you planning?” I asked.

He turned his face to look at me and grinned. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He placed a hand under each of my arms and lifted me again. I tucked my legs to clear his shoulders I was dangling in front of him, my back to him. He Adjusted his stance, and started to position me. I could feel his cock rubbing against my crack, so I opened my legs, hooking my feet around either side of his thighs. Sir thrust his hips, causing his head to rut up against my hole. I arched my lower back, positioning myself better for entry. I felt his massive dick find the sweet spot and he gently started lowering me down. There was a bit of pressure and suddenly he popped in.

I inhaled sharply. The sudden expansion and filling was a bit of a shock. Sir paused for a second, holding me like a doll, his head inside me. I could feel his heavy breath against the back of my neck. I was grateful he could control himself so well. I silently nodded my head as I gritted my teeth, ready for the next stretch. With awesome control, he slowly lowered me down the thick shaft of his huge member. I moaned a loud exhale as I descended. I allowed my legs to slip further back, until the back of my thighs were resting on the front of his. I felt my cheeks press up against him and sighed.
He hunched himself over and I felt him breath heavily in my ear “this is going to be fun.” He then caught my earlobe in his teeth and gave it a gentle tug. Fucking hell that was hot.

He stretched his fingers, adjusting his grip on my rib cage and slowly raised me up his long glans. As I felt his cock head flare up against my hole, he allowed me to descend again. He repeated this over and over, gently increasing the rhythm. I was gliding up and down his shaft as if I were piston on his steel rod. He wasn’t thrusting in to me at all! It was as if he were using me to wank himself off. I was a human fleshlight, a sex toy. But the feeling of being in the hands of someone so strong that could use me that way was so hot. My cock was straining against my jock strap. I was leaking precum so fast I was amazed it wasn’t dripping on to the floor. I had no control. He was impaling me on his cock over and over again, and it was fantastic. My hands moved to cover his, my fingers gripping in between his. I wanted to hold them whilst they held me.

With every downbeat and upbeat he was pushing against my prostate, I was groaning uncontrollably now, my head was thrown back and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. Sir’s rhythm paused for a second. I took a few deep breaths. But he shifted position, rotating his stance ninety degrees and resumed hammering me in to his pelvis.

“Eyes front,” he said in between heavy breaths of his own. I had forgotten about the mirror. What a sight. My head was bobbing up and down, between the level of his chest and shoulders. His nipples coming in to view each time he filled me. His delts, bis and tris were pumped ridiculously. I had thought they were big before, but this was verging on obscene. They had been working flat out for what must be fifteen minutes by now. The muscles had swollen well beyond the proportions I had seen last time. The already large veins were dilated and had brought friends to the party. My tight little body was being thrown up and down this god’s enormous cock, his huge balls visible between my legs.


The sight was too much for me to cope with. I could already feel my orgasm rising and this sent me over the top. I let out a groaning scream as thick globs of white cum started soaking through the red jockstrap and landing on the floor.

“I’m not done with you yet.” Sir grinned at me.

“Don’t let me stop you,” I panted.

Sir slid his left forearm around my front, placing his open palm on the centre of my chest, he lowered my body forward and with his right hand gripped the back elastic of my jockstrap. I was being held at about forty-five degrees, impaled on his cock. The extra pressure around the straps of my underwear and the added tightness on my cock and balls left a pleasant tingling sensation in my tummy. I felt Sir shifting his weight beneath me, planting his feet firmly on the floor. He drew his pelvis back slowly and then thrust forwards. I flew away from him, gliding up his shaft before he caught me. The tightness on my jock increasing as he slammed me back down. He paused before repeating the action. Each time I returned to base camp I had to exhale as I felt the wind being knocked out of me, a grunt escaped me each time. After a few trial thrusts he developed a vigorous rhythm. The stimulation brought my erection back before it had a chance to fully deflate. Sir started grunting with each thrust as well. This was wild. He was wild. This was the most animalistic fucking I had ever received. And I wasn’t even touching the ground!

I looked up at the mirror again, engrossed by the images I saw there. Sir’s powerful body was flexing and thrusting in to mine. His face was screwed up as he watched his cock spread me open time and time again. He looked up and our eyes met in the mirror. His mouth split in to a cocky smile and I knew he was enjoying himself just as much as I was. He maintained eye contact, watching my face as waves of pleasure crossed it with each thrust.

Sir stopped. He slid his left arm further around my body, let go of my jock strap and grabbed my left armpit with his right hand. “Unhook your legs.” I obliged as he lifted me once more, twisting as he raised me. He brought me up to his face height, bringing me very close to him. He leaned forwards and I shut my eyes for a kiss. But I was left waiting a heartbeat too long until I felt his teeth against my neck. Not enough to leave a mark, but enough to distract me as he once again pushed his engorged cock inside me.

As I slide down his shaft and body, I felt his strong fingers gripping around my small lats.  I wrapped my legs around his torso and ran my hands as far up the enormous arms that had been holding me all evening. I moved my gaze towards Sir’s face and saw he was watching mine. When our eyes met he grinned once more before starting to lift me once again. This time I was being penetrated by his thrusting, as well as being raised up and down by his arms. Having such a close view of the muscles working to fuck me so hard was as erotic as the feeling of his massive cock filling me, brushing against my prostate over and over again. I wish I had longer arms so I could feel his flexing pecs and delts, but I happily settled for his swollen biceps.

Sir’s granite body had developed a fine sheen of sweat, and his face was becoming a little red. The veins on his neck and temple were swelling to match those on his arms and shoulders. His grunts were getting heavier and I knew it wouldn’t be long until he came.

“You have the muscles of a god, Sir!” His screwed up face flickered a little as if he were snapping back in to the room. His pupils dilated and he grinned his cocky smile again. He trust harder.

“You like watching these muscles work?” He grunted between thrusts.

“Yes, Sir. I love wat-ching you use your - muscles to fuck - me.” He trust harder, faster. “I’ve never - been fucked - so hard - in my life! Give me - everything you’-ve got!” With that he started slamming himself in to me. After three of these monster thrusts I started coming again. I swear even as a teenager I have never been able to recover so quickly. My body juddered, my head thrust backwards and I let out a loud roar. As the third wave of climax rolled over me, I heard Sir’s low, growl develop in to his own manly roar. I snapped my head forwards to look at him once more. His face read, his mouth open as he vocalised his own orgasm. His grip on my rib cage tightened to an almost uncomfortable level and even more veins started popping out along his arms, shoulders and chest. He kept pounding in to me and I could feel his cock swelling with each thrust, knowing that he was pulsing shot after shot of semen in to the already strained condom.

After about seven powerful thrusts he started to relax and his rhythm became gentler. His breathing became heavier now that he could breath naturally rather than along with his  thrusts. My own breathing was fast and shallow, I was slightly dizzy.

Once I had become rested at the base of his cock for about half a minute, Sir stood straight and took a deep breath, his chest and shoulders swelling to their full capacity. A satisfied smile took over Sir’s face as he lifted me off of his still hard cock and placed me on the ground once more. He still held under my arms as he looked at me “well that was better than I imagined.”

“It was beyond anything I have ever imagined before, Sir.”

Sir went to let me go, but as soon as his hands moved, my legs gave way beneath me. Sir quickly caught me again putting me back on my feet. “Steady there. You alright, Wee Jock?”

“I’ll be fine, Sir. I’m always a little light headed after a good fuck… and that was an excellent fuck.”

“Hold on, I’ll get you a drink of water.” Sir perched me on the side of the bed and left the room. I took a second to gather myself. That was mind blowing. I didn’t touch the ground for over half an hour. I wish I was as strong as that.

Sir returned with two glasses of water, his long, soft dick now slapping against each enormous thigh as he strode across the large room.

“Thank you.” I took the glass and took a few big gulps.

“You’re more than welcome. Why don’t you freshen up a bit and I’ll order a taxi?”

“Good idea.” I wobbled over to the en suite. I splashed some cold water on my face and started feeling a bit more alert. When I returned to the bedroom Sir was wearing a pair of sexy designer briefs in flashy colours. His soft bulge was obscene in the confined space.

“You feel any better?”

“I’ve got my land legs back.” Sir chuckled softly. He held up his mobile.

“Taxi will be here in a few minutes. If you think you’re ready, you best get dressed.” I agreed. He saw me to the door this time. As I started to gather my clothes from the porch cupboard, I noticed a pair of underwear that wasn’t there before. They were a pair of bright  blue and purple boxer briefs, size - medium. I didn’t recognise the designer, but knew they must be expensive. I guessed he had ditched them before entering the house. I grinned. I slipped off the sodden red jockstrap, and slipped on Sir’s underwear. It was slightly too big for me. They gapped at the thighs that he had obviously stretched out, but I was doing a decent job of filling the pouch. I put the rest of my clothes back on, wrapping the jock strap inside the underwear I had worm on the way here, and stuffing them in my jacket pocket, just as I heard a car horn outside. Perfect timing.

On the way home I received a text:

“I’ll see you next week. That should be plenty of time for you to recover ;)”

I got hard again.

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Wow! That was absolutely incredible. Great writing and fantastic storytelling :). Hope to keep reading great scenes like this with hot strength and muscle worship scenarios!

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7 hours ago, liftme said:

Oh my goodness hat was ome awesome writing GMAN.  Stayed ard almost the entire story or the last 3/4 of it.  Great job sir

Great to know it’s doing the trick  ?

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  • 1 month later...
  • 3 weeks later...

Well it's been a longer delay than I'd like, but here's the next chapter. Apologies in advance, there's not actual sex in it, just a lot of flirtation, but it's really important for setting up a lot of fun things for future chapters. Any feedback welcome.

 

 

Chapter 5

It had been an exciting week. Not only did I have new memories… fucking hot memories… to think about as I wanked off, but I had a promise that there would be more to come. I wasn’t checking my phone as obsessively as last time. He had told me that we’d be meeting again after a week, and I had no reason not to trust him. Instead I kept replaying our last two encounters over in my head, and when possible, in front of the mirror. 


It started when I came out of the shower. Normally I would get changed in the bathroom, for fear of my flatmate seeing me half naked. But I guess I hadn’t thought about it the morning after my last meeting with Sir. I walked through to my room, towel wrapped around my waist, my hair still damp. As I gathered some clean clothes I caught sight of myself in the full length mirror hanging on the back of my bedroom door. It was a better sight than I thought. It had been a long time since I’d seen myself like this. I was short, yes. I was thin, yes. But what I hadn’t really considered before was how toned I was. I had a six pack, and there was definition in my streamlined muscles. I guess running and climbing had produced a better shape than I had realised. I held up my right arm and flexed my bicep. That was when it hit me: I was standing in a towel, flexing, just like Sir the first time I met him. I liked the thought. I reached up my left hand to feel my flexed bicep. It was small, but it was tight and hard. It wasn’t a ball of muscle by any stretch of the imagination, but there was a definite cut where the muscle ended. And it was firm. I liked it! I started flexing, just like Sir did. I watched myself posing in the mirror, imagining I had the massive proportions of the behemoth I had been worshiping the night before. I got hard quickly, and not long in to the posing session I had dispensed with the towel and was furiously beating off, my eyes roaming over my own reflection until I came all over the mirror. What a great way to start the day.


The next time I put on my one and only shirt and tie, with dress trousers. I stood in front of the mirror. “You know Wee Jock, well dressed men are to be shown respect in this house.” I said to myself as I started rubbing the outline of my dick as it grew down my trouser leg. I imagined being large and muscular, with a small man like myself on his knees sucking me off. I remembered being the small man on his knees worshiping the god in front of me. My imagination flicked back and forth. I fished my cock out of my fly and slowly stroked myself off, precum dripping from my head, and once more ejaculating over my own reflection.

Half way through the week I decided to take it a little further. I dug out an old action figure from a box under my bed. I stood in front of the mirror, naked and erect, holding the small, plastic, muscular man in my hands in front of me. “Do you trust me, Wee Jock?” I said in a whisper. I would wrap my hands around my cock and the doll at the same time, wanking myself with my miniature stand in for myself. “Do you like watching these muscles fuck you, Wee Jock?” I said as I thrust my hips forwards, my abs flexing over and over again until I shot my load.

My mirror had never been cleaned so often!

Twice that week I went to work wearing Sir’s underwear. They were slightly too big for me, but I loved the feel of the slick material against my balls. The other times I wore the jocks he had supplied me with. I realised I was really earning the name Sir had given me.

On Thursday evening I got a message from Sir:

“6pm tomorrow. Corner of Great Western and Park Road. Work out gear.”

Well this was different. The location wasn’t too far from his flat. I’d have to leave early from work, but I was owed some overtime. But the work out gear? Why would he want me to wear work out gear? Maybe he wanted to go for a run with me? I told him I went running in our online chats before we met up. Maybe he wanted to see me work up a sweat before we worked one up together? The thought of watching his pecs bounce as he ran got me hard. His thighs suddenly tensing as they took his weight. I bet he wore those tiny, shiny running shorts highlighting his glutes. Fuck! His cock! It would be bouncing about. Oh this was going to be good!

I couldn’t get through Friday fast enough. I had changed in to my work out gear before leaving work. I was wearing the white jock Sir had provided me with, shorts and a sweat wicking tshirt under my jacket. I arrived at the designated corner at 5:50pm and waited, it was a busy corner, lots of students walking past. Loads of buses and cars using the main road out of town. Just seconds after 6 o’clock, a stylish, sporty looking car stopped in the slow traffic. I recognised it as a BMW, but I don’t know enough about cars to know the model, I just know that for someone who doesn’t find cars that interesting, this was a sexy car. The horn went twice and the window came down. “Wee Jock, get in!”

A few people had stopped to look at this car and they all turned to look at me as I trotted between the parked cars and in to the passenger seat. Jesus the seat is low. It felt like I was being hugged. As soon as I was in Sir pulled off again.

“Glad to see you again, Wee Jock. I’ve got a wee treat for you planned.” He put his hand on my thigh and gave it a little squeeze before returning his hand to the wheel. I looked over to see his giant frame bulging out over the seat. His left shoulder was pretty much in the middle of the car. “It’s not often I meet someone for a second time, let alone a third.”

“I’m honoured, Sir.” I couldn’t think what else to say.

“Well it’s not many guys can handle me the way you do. For a wee guy, you can certainly… accommodate a big man like me.” He glanced at me and grinned.

I had to shift in my seat to adjust my swelling dick. “What can I say? A man of your size makes me want to put in the extra effort.” I was going red. I haven’t had to make conversation with Sir before.

It didn’t take us too long to get a little out the city and up to a golf club. “We’re here.” Sir stated as he pulled up. He got out the car, grabbed a water bottle from the boot, and started walking in to the building. We entered the ‘fitness suite’ portion of the building. Sir pressed a fingerprint recognition button, letting us in. “I thought you might like to work out with me this evening.”

The thought of watching Sir use those big muscles made me blush. This is much better than a run. “Yes, Sir, I would.”

Just as we passed through the door, Sir paused and turned to me. “As you can see, this is an upmarket place. I expect you to behave… at least until we leave.” He winked.

“Yes, Sir!”

I followed him in to the empty changing room. Sir was right, this was upmarket! The lockers weren’t even lockers, they were open, full length compartments. People’s clothes and towels were just hanging there on full display. There were upholstered chairs in the corners, benches in the centre, and along one wall there was a row of mirrors with hairdryers and straighteners lying on the bench before it. There was even carpet!

I looked around, making sure there wasn’t anyone else here before I spoke out of turn. “Wow, this is much posher than the gym at uni!”
Sir laughed. “Aye, no students around here.” He continued through the changing rooms, past the showers to the left and a sauna and steamroll to the right, before entering the gym floor.

It wasn’t a big place, but it was clean and the equipment was new. There weren’t many people in it, and most of them were using the cardio machines. There was a couple of men and one woman using the weight machines, and the small free weight area was empty. Sir sat down on the second rowing machine and told me to warm up. Sir flicked the resistance to it’s highest setting and started pulling away. I too put it too the highest setting, and went for it. I was managing to keep up with him stroke for stroke… for the first two minutes, but I soon fell behind. There was no competition for distance anyway. My much shorter limbs meant that if we were in real boats, he would have been half way to Dublin before I even left the Clyde estuary. After five minutes, Sir re-hooked his handles. “Best stop there Wee Jock, this is just the warm up.” I was already sweating and breathing heavily.

“I thought I’d be… better at the cardio… I run a lot.” My chest heaved whilst I tried not to look too out of breath.

“And when was the last time you were on a rower?”

“Never.”

“Well, you’ve done no bad today then. It’s all about what your body is use to.” He gestured towards the free weights area. “Lets get to why we’re here.” The free weights area was set off from the rest of the gym. Still open plan, but there was a definite demarkation due to shock absorbent flooring. I trailed behind Sir, not wanting to enter. I knew it was stupid, but I really didn’t feel like I belonged there. If someone saw me in there, they’d know I didn’t lift weights. Skinny guys like me run, we don’t lift weights. I had no idea what to do with them, and I didn’t want to embarrass myself. Sir strode in to the middle of the floor and turned around, starting to talk, but stopped when he saw I wasn’t behind him.

“You coming, Wee Jock?” He beckoned me over with a gesture of his hand. “You look terrified.”

“I’m just not use to this.” I said, waving my hands at the dumbbells.

“Use to the gym?”

“No, the rest of the gym I’m ok with. I just don’t know what to do here.”

Sir grinned and bent over, putting his mouth close to my ear. He quietly said “I assumed a wee lad like yourself, who loves muscle so much, would be more comfortable with where that muscle was built. After all, you didn’t seem to mind rubbing your hands all over the products this factory makes.” He stood up and brought his right hand up to run his fingers through his hair. When his arm was at it’s zenith, he paused, flexed his bicep and winked at me. I immediately blushed, and got hard. It was going to be difficult to behave myself like Sir had instructed. “Now, since this is your first time, I’ll let you pick what you want me to work on. Top half, or bottom half?”

Wow, I hadn’t considered being asked for an opinion. Top half would let me see those arms in action, and his chest! But that arse doing squats would be… “Wee Jock!” Sir snapped his fingers in front of my face. I must have glazed over. I looked at him, his arms now folded in front of his large chest, highlighting the size of his pecs and biceps.

“Top half!”

“Good choice. I’ll not be going heavy today, since I have the feeling you won’t be too keen to spot me.” Sir smiled, and I was relaxed by his little joke.

It was an odd work out. I spent most of my time watching Sir, and adding weights. Lifting the various weights was certainly a good work out for me. I wouldn’t say I was particularly weak, it’s just that he was lifting so much! And this wasn’t even heavy for him! He started with supersets explaining about working opposing muscles at the same time. He started with bent over rows, using one of the two barbells in the gym, and dumbbell flies. Watching him pull the barbell up to his chest, the ‘Y’ of his vest allowing me a great view of all those back muscles contracting in unison, his biceps balling up, and then controls the decent over and over again. It was hypnotising. When he lay on the bench I enjoyed watching his arms under tension as he brought the dumbbells around in their slow, controlled arc. The second time he did this set, he told me to stand at his head, and suddenly I saw why. At this angle, I got a very good view of his chest cleavage, of the pecs contracting and tensing. I could see the scalloped edge where they attached to his sternum, and I imagined running my hands through through the ravine… no my face! I longed to feel his strong muscles compressing my face as I tried to lick the sweat from him.

“Might want to adjust yourself, Wee Jock.” I was bulging in a very obvious way. I turned and adjusted myself. When I turned back, I noticed that Sir was also hard, and making no attempt to hide it himself. He caught me looking, grinned and shrugged.

Sir suggested I have a go. I started stumbling my words before Sir placed some seven kilo dumbbells in my hands and told me to just do it. “You’ve been watching me. Take the stance and do the bent over rows.” I lent over and lifted the weights. Sir put one hand on the small of my back and the other on my shoulder, adjusting my form. “Keep that back straight” he said. “Squeeze your shoulder blades together at the top. That’s it.” I could only manage about eight reps before having the put the weights down. “Now on to the flies” he gestured towards the bench. I sat down and he handed me the weights again. I lifted them towards my chest and lay down. I tried to lift them above me and struggled.

“Slow down there.” Sir took hold of my wrists and brought the weights up in to position above me. Then helped guide them down down to either side. I was glad of his assistance to get them up again. The weights pulled at my chest in a way I had never experienced before. After a few reps, Sir gently took his hands away, but followed my movements closely. I managed a few more reps before starting to wobble. Sir took control again for another two reps then took the weights out of my hands.

“There you go. Now catch your breath whilst you watch me. Pay attention to my form. You’ll do better next time.” I nodded. I watched Sir with a critical eye, rather than my normal lustful gaze. I walked round him to get views from different angles. When it was my turn again, I picked up the weights with a determination not to have to be corrected this time. I assumed the stance and started performing the reps. I noticed Sir walking around me, evaluating me the way I had just done him. I tried not to look directly at him, but straight down. “Head up, watch yourself in the mirror,” Sir instructed. I did, and it instantly made it easier for me to keep both arms at the same height, my elbows tucked in, my back straight. I had always assumed that bodybuilders were just admiring themselves whilst they worked out in front of the mirror, but now I saw why they did it.

“Much better, Wee Jock, stop there.” I had reached eight reps again, struggling a little with the last one. We moved to the flies. I couldn’t watch myself this time, but as I started flies I tried not to allow my elbows to flex. It was really difficult.

“Stop there.” Sir said as he took the weights out of my hands. I had only done two, really bad reps. Sir quickly replaced them with five kilo dumbbells. I could do the exercise much better this time, realising that previously I had been pushing the weights up, instead of raising them in an arc. I got another five reps with Sir guiding my hands to keep them in the right plain.

“Much better form this time. Don’t ever be worried about reducing the weight. The most important thing is form. Get that right, and the weight will follow.” We carried on like this for about twenty minutes, moving on to Lateral pull downs, and lateral raises. When we started with the lateral pull downs, it took a few turns of Sir stopping and increasing the weight. He looked more and more impressed each time. “You’ve got a pretty strong back there, Wee Jock” he said whilst having a feel at my lats.

“I climb sometimes.” I blushed. His praise whilst touching me had me tenting my shorts again. 

“For such a small guy, you’re packed full of surprises.” I waited the few seconds until he was finished running his fingers up and down my back, before standing, and making it fairly obvious I was adjusting myself. Sir grinned again and gave me a wink.

The lateral raises were a different matter all together. I had to drop down to two kilo weights. They felt so light initially, but my shoulders quickly tired. Sir could see my embarrassment at dropping to the two’s. “Your only focus is form today.” He said before lifting thirty kilo dumbbells for a ridiculous number of reps. I looked around and realised that they were the heaviest ones here. I knew he’d be able to do more if he had the option. Watching his delts get pumped up reminded me of when he was holding me, sliding me up and down his huge cock. Oh shit, he was doing it again, that was pretty much my weight he was lifting. Now I knew he could keep going with this for long time if he wanted to. No wonder he looked so relaxed. I had chubbed up again, and I could feel precum soaking in to my white jock. “Wow, that thing just doesn’t relax, does it?” Sir grinned, whilst I blushed. He pushed his palms together, pointing down and flexed. His pecs bounced in to relief, the cults in his delts deepened, his triceps sprung up and my now painfully erect cock started leaking until a wet patch was visible in my, thankfully dark, shorts. Sir grinned even more “glad to know I’m having the desired effect.”

He walked off to the cable machine which he started to set up for the next exercise. I yet again had to adjust myself before I followed him. Whilst Sir was adjusting the cables, a tall, young man entered the gym, walking directly towards the free weights area. He was even taller than Sir, but not as broad, like a swimmer that had discovered weight lifting in his early twenties. He was ginger, with a young face, I suspect he was only slightly older than I am, but much, much more built! I instantly became nervous. This guy was going to see I didn’t belong here. He’s going to figure out that I’m just a muscle pervert. He’s gorgeous, of course I’m going to look, and he’s not going to like that. Oh my god, I’ve got a wet patch on my groin, he’s going to know I’m checking him out and then he’s going to beat me up. Fuck, fuck, fuck! The tall ginger man was checking his phone, he looked up at me and after a second his face broke in to a beaming smile. What was going on?

“Long time no see!” The giant ginger said in a deep Irish accent. What was he talking about? I’ve never seen him before in my… oh, his gaze is clearly a lot higher than my face.

“Red! How you doing? Looking good!” Sir said as he stepped around me, hand out to take this other-giant’s hand.

“I’m grand, thanks! You must be keeping yoursel’ busy; I’ve not seen you in ages. Clearly takin’ care o’ business I see.” He gestured a hand up and down Sir’s large frame.

“Aye, I’ve got a lot going on just now, but I’m not giving up on all this.” Sir swept his arms round and struck a pose with his left arm slightly bent, high in the air, his right arm flexing his bicep. It was clearly a practiced body building pose. The ginger giant gave a little laugh and a gentle shove on the shoulder.

“Knock it off. What you working on today?”

“I’m showing my mate around the gym, we’re doing some upper body work today.” Sir looked around and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Red, this is Wee Jock; Wee Jock, this is Red.”

“Oh, hey there bud.” Red stepped towards me, holding his hand out. I took it, having to hold my hand about shoulder height for him to take it. I looked up at him. He was taller than Sir! His frame was a bit narrower, but it was packed with cut muscle. His shoulders budged hugely. He was careful when he shook my hand, as if he’d been told off too many times for his crushing grip. He smiled warmly at me. He didn’t have the rugged, handsomeness that Sir had, but he was cute.

“Hello. Well, I’m going to step over here. I’m afraid standing between you too giants might be a bit dangerous.” Both men laughed.

“Right, come on, Wee Jock, we best get back to work.” Sir said. Red gave a small salute and went off to the squat rack. We set about doing cable flies, as Sir wanted to ‘hit our chests one more time.’ We moved back to the free weights area and Sir handed me the five kilo dumbbells again, and he loaded up the remaining bar bell with what looked like forty kilos on each side. He picked it up and stood next to me, and then started doing bicep curls with it! His arms immediately blew up. The veins started engorging as he pumped his arms over and over again. “Lift, Wee Jock” he said between reps. I shook my self out of my stupor and started curling the dumbbells he had given me. “Flex at the top of the rep” he instructed, and as I did I felt the burn. I managed ten reps comfortably and put the weights down for a break. Sir put the hundred kilo barbell down, and after a little huff of breath asked “Why’d you stop, you were managing fine?”

“I did ten reps. Shouldn’t I stop?”

“We’re going to go to failure on the next set.” We both took a drink of water and waited a bit. Red was grunting close by as he squatted low. His tracksuit pants slipping down around his arse, showing the logo’d band of a designer jock strap. Once I saw it, I turned to look at Sir, who was watching the squat himself. He realised I had clocked him eyeing up Red’s arse and gave me a wink. “You ready for the next one. Try to keep pace with me. Slow up, squeeze at the top, and slowly control the decent. Straight in to the next rep, don’t pause at the bottom. Keep your form, don’t swing with your back. Keep your elbows in. Ready? Lets go.”

We each picked up our weights and started curling. We got to ten fairly quickly, and I was still reasonably comfortable. I enjoyed watching myself and Sir working out together in the mirror. By copying his movements, I could almost pretend the behemoth’s reflection was my own, as I felt my muscles do what he was doing. As we got over fifteen reps, I started making a bit of noise exhaling on each lift. Red had paused his squats and was now blatantly watching the pair of us. Well… watching Sir at least. I got to eighteen reps before I started to struggle, and started swaying with my back. Sir was obviously watching me, he saw straight away and told me to stop. He carried on for another couple of reps, saying

“Back steady, squeeze at the top, control down, back up, squeeze at the top…” putting great emphasis on the form for me.

“That’s a good number of reps you’re lad’s gettin’ out there.” Red commented.

“Aye, he’s got a surprising amount of strength for pull work. He climbs.” Red seemed impressed. Sir continued “He’s got great stamina as well.” Red cocked an eyebrow at this and turned to look at me.

“Is that so?” Although he was looking at me, I wasn’t sure who the question was directed at. He seemed to be looking me over. “Mind if I join the pair of you? This looks like a fun game.”

Before I could say anything, Sir gestured to my opposite side “be our guest.”

Red unloaded some of the weight off the barbell he was squatting with, and moved it so that I was flanked by the two muscled mountains. We stood in a line, facing the mirror. The giants with their hundred kilo barbells, and me with a tenth of that between two dumbbells.

We each picked up our weight and started lifting in unison. Looking in the mirror I couldn’t help but get turned on at being sandwiched between these two powerful men. Sir’s arms were already enjoying a good pump, and as I watched, Red’s arms started swelling as well, the already prominent vein defending down his long arms was  beginning to widen. With each pump, Red’s pale face got a little redder as he screwed up his face with the effort of keeping up with Sir. I lost count of the reps whilst I took in the sites around me, but I started swaying a bit as Red’s grunts got a little louder. Sir again called a halt. Red put down his barbell and started breathing heavily, checking out his arms in the mirror.

Sir gave a gentle laugh. “Well, Wee Jock, now you can see where Red got his name from.” I had just assumed it was due to his ginger hair, but during the set his face had flushed bright red. Red gave a mock-angry growl towards Sir, and then to me when I gave a short laugh.

“I can’t help it man! I’m so pale, I turn red with exercise and blue with cold. If I walk infant of a bright light you can see my heart beating.” I laughed a bit more after that. “Were you watchin’ your lad at the end of that last set?” Red asked Sir.

“Aye.”

“Did you see what I saw?”

“Clearly not.” Sir sounded intrigued.

“Go another round, will ye, Wee Jock?” Red asked. I wasn’t sure how Sir would react to me taking instructions from another man. What a weird thought. He didn’t own me. But he had brought me here, and I didn’t know the etiquette. I looked at him and he nodded his approval. I picked up the weights and started lifting again. Red moved around to my right again, and with the two of them focusing all their attention on me, I tried to focus as hard as I could on good form. After about five or six reps Red piped up “there it is.” I turned my head to look at each of them who were staring at my arms and not catching my eye. I kept going.

“Oh yeah. That’s amazing. Keep going, Wee Jock.” Sir said giving me an encouraging pat on the back. I had no idea what they were on about, neither of them were catching my eye, but when I looked in the mirror, both these giant muscle men were leaning over, their faces getting closer and closer to my upper arms. The attention was getting to me, I was getting both aroused and flustered.

“Hold right there!” Sir commanded when I was lowering the weights. I held them about ninety degrees. Red gently ran a finger down the centre of my right bicep, the feeling gave my goose bumps and hardened my erection.

“Nice vein you’ve got there, Wee Jock! That’s quite a pump you’ve got on you.” Red exclaimed.

“Packed with surprises.” Sir said slowly as he too had a feel of my bicep.

I was reeling in the attention. This was more than a fantasy. To have these two men admire my body, even with these mild compliments, was amazing. But the weight was too heavy and my arms too tired. I started to shake and made an embarrassing noise as I lowered the weight and put them on the floor. Sir picked them up and back on the stand.

“Time for us to head now.” Sir said to Red.

“You guys hitting the sauna?”

“Not this time. See you around.” Sir gave Red a little wave and placed his hand on the back of my neck as he guided me back out the gym. “Good job today, Wee Jock. You’ve impressed me. Lets see if you can keep this momentum going back at mine?”

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