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Just Dave And Me - Part I


msclvrtoo

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Here's Part I of four parts

 

Just Dave and Me”: Part I

By [email protected]

 

[This story contains consensual sex between adult males.  There is no intent to assess the sexual  “preferences or activities of any individual with names similar to those in this fictional story.  Read and enjoy.]

 

Important Set-Up

 

I wondered if this was just a dumb idea.  I hoped not.  I wasn’t sure.  I knew that I’d thought about this for a long time.  So, in that sense, it was important to me.  Yet, how the hell do you know what to expect?  Really?  These questions were zooming around in my head when the main door to the clinic opened.

 

“Mr. Scott Reynolds?  Dr. Russell will see you now,” announced a young lady who acted too old for her age.  I had a brief mental picture of what a smiling hugely muscled young body-builder stud might look like if he were sitting there instead of her.  As I walked down the hall, the last few months flashed through my mind in just seconds.

 

I had inherited a pretty sizeable chunk of money from my now deceased grandfather.  As a single gay man, pushing 50, I was already in good financial condition.  My business was successful.  I was able to take vacations when I wanted.  The only thing that was missing was a partner – a partner in mind, body and spirit.  Sure, I’d had some “relationships” and have some good friendships, but no “partner partner.”   I’d decided to take part of the inheritance and do something I’d fantasized about for years.  This is about what I’ve thought about for years, especially every time I was in the cock-hardening company of one of those fabulously massive masculine muscular (I call them my “3Ms”) bodybuilder escorts.

 

After weeks of intensive Internet research, I found the Institute for Human Potential.  I went to their website and received some literature in the mail.  While they had a lot of traditional therapy and new-age programs, I focused on their “experiential fantasy” program.  It wasn’t therapy.  I didn’t need any more of that.  The idea of “fantasy,” though sounding a little hokey, made sense given what I was looking for.  I had a lot of background participating in and delivering experiential education for adults.  So I was already on board with “experiential.”

 

Short of a long-term partner, what I was looking for was an experience with one very special man.  This man would be my powerful, loving, totally and massively built loving father figure.  This would be completely different from my abusing deceased real father (he died when I was ten) and my stepfather.  I would be his son, a son who he would love unconditionally and allow me to explore whatever I needed to explore and didn’t as a kid.  My idea was that we would be together, very intimately, for maybe a week or so at some great vacation spot.  As a result of our time together, I would regain a sense of my masculine power that I threw away in my early teens and am now, pushing 50, just beginning to relish.  My hope was that in that week, I would be with him and he with me… in ways that would literally push my own transformation as a powerful masculine male into high gear.

 

I can imagine and see it now.

 

God, he is one very muscular huge guy and ruggedly handsome, too!  His smile is intoxicating me.  As I lay on top of him, my cock is as hard as a rock and feels like it is going to explode.  It’s in between his gigantic thighs. He keeps flexing those steel-corded monsters and crushing my cock like a human grinding machine.  I jam it in hard each time he flexes and tries to stop me.  We’re both into a nice power trip here.  He’s turned on that I’m so turned on, and that is fabulous. 

 

I get off my elbows and let myself sink deep down into his cast-iron pecs and hairy chest.  I rest my head in his crevice and gently lick the hair and the side of his right pec.  It’s like I’m resting on two hard rocks being warmed by the sun.  He flexes those mountains and my head rises an inch as he thrusts his chest out.   My eyes remain about a half-inch (in an extraordinary side view) from some incredible striations that are even more sexy because they’re covered with light brown hair. 

 

As I slide my head up a bit, my heart leaps as I gaze at his square chin and the top of his neck, covered in a sexy light stubble.  God, how sexy can a guy get?  His high neck muscles and cords tighten as he moves his head from side to side showing off what he’s got.  The dark stubble (only a short inch from my mouth) sits on top of these beautiful muscles provokes something damn deep in me.  Very primitive and very powerful.  He has an intoxicating musky man-scent.  My lust starts me sweating again.  My heart is racing.  My tongue starts licking the underside of his stubbled chin.  He tastes so delicious, so manly.  My tongue feels like its licking soft warm steel, only now it’s covered with sandpaper -- slowing my tongue’s explorations to a deliciously slow pace. 

 

In addition to loving armpits, and the back of a concrete and corded neck, I quickly add this part of a man’s anatomy – a massive thick and corded neck --  to my turn on list.  The power in his neck just blows me away.  It is amazing how beautiful big bulges of muscle strips can be as they move gracefully down into his naturally explosive traps and shoulders.  He knows it and he’s still getting off watching me go just a little nuts.  And then he tightens his already concrete-like thighs against my cock, again, and again, and again.  I flex my cock right back each time.  It doesn’t get much better than this.  That’s what I see is possible, for starters.

 

Back To Reality

 

I was quite direct and blunt with Dr. Russell about what I was looking for and why.  He explained that what I was looking for was often called “surrogate services.”  There seemed to be a good match between my expectations, what they offered, despite the “no guarantees” ground-rule.  He talked about the different reasons for “surrogate services” and the roles surrogates can play.  I’d written down what I was looking for and read him this list, making no apologies for what I wanted.  I’m so grateful I didn’t let my embarrassment stop me.

 

This guy would be a mature man, probably in his late 30’s or 40’s.  He should be at least 6 feet tall and built like a competitive bodybuilder.  He need not be cut for competition, but should have a lot of thick, bulging muscle.  It makes no difference if he’s hairy or shaved.  He doesn’t have to look like a handsome movie star.  Dark or blond features made no difference.   I told him I wasn’t interested in any S&M, dangerous stuff, or physical or emotional abuse.  He seemed to understand. 

 

I continued to explain that I wanted a guy who was willing to play something like a father or big brother role and do it with a lot of respect and love towards me.  He’d be willing to completely give himself physically and emotionally to me --- providing some of the experiences of being with a man that I’d wanted for years.  He’d be the kind of guy that would love getting turned on himself and revel in sharing his body and totally masculine self with me.  I indicated I didn’t expect a relationship out of this beyond the week.  I did expect a guy who was a big heart and was 100% willing to give that to me, especially in body and passionate muscle worship, sexual passion, and tender caring.

 

I’d been with enough escorts to know that what I had in mind was a very temporary experience.  Yes, it is self-centered and narcissistic.  Yet, I just saw myself as coming out of the week with a newfound sense of my own masculine power, having been coached and loved into that by a great big muscleman with a great big heart.  Maybe it would help me in my own growth as a man and as a potential partner.  Maybe it wouldn’t.  I was willing to take the chance and spend the money.  If nothing else, it would be a nice vacation with the potential for some great muscle sex with a massive, masculine, muscular (“3M”) god.

 

Dr. Russell told me that the Institute had been approached by a number of gay men over the years with some similar, though not the same requests.  He reviewed the process used to recruit and contract with surrogates.  He asked me to be patient, given the specificity of my requirements.  It would take time to find the right guy and train him in the basics, if he wasn’t already “trained.”  We agreed that once the guy was selected it would be wise for him and I to meet informally, discuss the week, and check for chemistry. 

 

I gave him a retainer and a picture of me.  Fortunately, I was a reasonably good-looking guy, although a tad heavy.  At the end of our session, he made sure I understood the “no guarantees” aspects of this little project.  At the same time, I felt excited by his confidence that his network would turn-up the right guy, either locally or nationally. 

 

Three weeks went by.  My fantasies were going nuts.  I was going nuts.  I was masturbating like there was no tomorrow.  As someone on the muscle-sex internet network said, “I hope masturbation is healthy, because if it isn’t, I’m gonna die soon.”  My all time favorite, Pete K., kept popping into my dreams and daydreams.  I loved to think about how cool it would be if it turned out to be Pete, Carl, Nassar, Ron, Gunter, Mike M. or any of the others – all legends that had been imprinted on my mind for years.  I also had lots of moments of doubt.  None of my friends or family knew my plan, yet.  And, maybe I’d just keep it too myself and my special friend and coach, Rob.

 

The Power of Fantasy and the Mind’s Creativity

 

For the last couple of days, I keep seeing Nassar, Mike M. and Gunter in the same room with me.  I’m on my massage table and these truly huge gods are getting very turned on as they turn each other on and take turns turning me on.  It’s just after a recent Mr. Olympia contest and these three monsters are cut into ribbons on top of bulging mountains of steel hard muscle.  They’re tanned, flawlessly oiled, and their sweat makes their bodies glisten in the light as they move from pose to pose. 

 

My favorite sexy monster, Nassar, is “calling cadence” and they all move at the same time from the same pose to the same pose.  “Double biceps guys.”  Their eyes are fixed on me, watching each of my reactions.  “Give him your most muscular, now!” he orders.  Smiles cross their faces when my cock does another leap.  “Turn and flair those big backs, now!”  When they’re not looking at me, they’re fixated on each other, driven to turn each other on which, by the look of their beautiful baskets, they are being very successful at.  “Side chest, now!”  Mike’s huge basket is wrapped in a tissue-like red fabric that is getting nearly transparent as the sweat drips down the crevices of his torso.  It’s right next to my left shoulder and getting bigger and bigger.  I’m overwhelmed trying to keep track of a set of huge arms that are covered with veins and his growing basket.

 

“Abs, now!” Gunter, my blond and perfectly tanned Gunter, is in a sheer white strap that is barely holding his balls and cock in place.  I see his piss slit through the fabric as his cock starts moving up to the edge of his left hip strap, about ready to push itself out in full glory. His smile is devastating.  “Thighs, now!”  barks Nassar.  It disgusts me that he kept coming in number two in Mr. Olympia.  “Traps and upper body, now!”   If these judges would only weight symmetry, he’d have been on top for at least two years.  For our session, he’s chosen to wear his signature black posing strap.  It’s not a trunk.  It’s not a brief.  This extraordinary mountain of man wears a tiny strap that leaves nothing to the imagination. 

 

“Front lat spread, now!”  His bulging basket is in between my toes at the foot of the table.  He thrusts it in and I playfully hook my big toes on each strap and pull him forward and each strap pulls away from his incredibly sexy waist.  A sly, knowing smile crosses his face and he plays right along with me.  Then he turns and looks at his right bicep – both top muscles and his tricep (like a spare tire) jump as he pumps and pumps for everyone’s benefit. “Resting pose, now!”  Completely out of my conscious control, my cock explodes in volleys of warm, thick cum.  All these gorgeous men let loose with cheers as they watch their extraordinary collective impact on me.  Shit, I had no idea I could pump so much cum…no idea…at least up until now.

 

Progress

 

One Friday morning, the phone rang.  It was Dr. Russell.  “Mr. Reynolds, do you have a few moments?”  My heart leaped into my throat.  “Sure,” I said with a mixture of excitement and anxiety.  “I know it’s taken a while, but I think we’ve found a terrific guy for you.  He’s on the west coast so you’d have to pay for his travel to meet you the first time or you could go meet him.  That would be in addition to the travel to the resort if you decide to hire him.  We just couldn’t find the right guy locally.” 

 

“Why do you think he’s such a good match? “ I asked, feeling very proud of not getting too excited too quickly.  “He’s 45, gay, a competitive bodybuilder competing in masters tournaments.  His name is Dave and he’s 6’3” and 285 pounds.  He’s actually been an escort from time to time over the years but “moved up” to doing this kind of surrogate work a couple of years ago.  A couple of my colleagues in L.A. recommended him.  They also gave him some basic training in doing surrogate work.  Dave is a rehabilitation therapist, in-between partners, and has a flexible work schedule.  I wanted to call you first before I spoke with him directly.  Are you interested?”  “Absolutely,” I said.

 

 

Dr. Russell said he’d do a telephone interview with Dave and cover all the things I was interested in and see if he was interested in the engagement.  He also said he has a good “sixth sense” for people, even on the phone and would put that to work.  I told him to not take it further with Dave if he didn’t think it was a good match.  I thanked him, hung the phone up, and started sweating from a combination of anxiety and a rush of adrenaline.

 

My mind flipped into a fast forward fantasy

 

We had only moments ago entered a luxurious guest room.   While still in our street clothes (his pants and shirt were very small and very tight and he looked absolutely incredibly powerful and gorgeous) he invited me over to the big over-stuffed chair.  Neither of us wanted to waste any time given the weeks of planning.  He sat his huge body down and motioned me to come over and sit on his lap.  I knew I’d be sitting on his hard cock – I could see it through his tight jeans – poking up towards his right hip. 

 

He was so relaxed, so friendly, so focused on me.  I was melting.  After mentally flipping through at least five “lap positions” in a few nano-seconds, I decided to sit with my back into his chest so he could wrap his muscular hairy arms and hands around me and squeeze like there was no tomorrow. He knew exactly what to do.  He asked me if it was okay if he held me in his arms.  I just nodded.  How wonderful that he really appeared to want to do what I wanted.  I put my hands and forearms on top of his and squeezed his huge wrists while he gently squeezed my arms into my torso and my back into his flexed pecs.  I just let myself go, sink into him, and savor this amazing moment.

 

I’ve always been hooked on the total arm, with hair.  It was like resting on top of warm steel.  Then he started to rotate and pump his cock and abdominals into my ass.   The power in his body just overwhelmed me.  I was feeling so many muscles flex and move at the same time that I couldn’t believe it was real.  It was real, and I could tell he just wanted to enjoy it all.  He told me how much he liked feeling his own body against mine and how sexy it was to watch and feel me damn near lose all control.

 

Another Call from Dr. Russell

 

A week later Dr. Russell called again and announced that he was very impressed with Dave and thought that it would be worth my time and money to meet him.  Again, I asked him “What impresses you?”  “He’s a great combination of sensitivity and inner strength.  We talked about his experiences as a surrogate, though mostly with women.  He had worked with a few gay guys and felt more at home and more able to understand and respond to what men really wanted.  The fee was satisfactory for him.  His schedule is flexible with enough notice to his boss.  If you give me your email, I’ll forward his photo.  You’ll be delighted at how close he matches what you were looking for physically.  Both physically and otherwise, he’s quite an impressive guy.  Do you want to meet him?”  “Yes,” I said with a clearly excited edge. 

 

We agreed that Dr. Russell’s staff would handle the arrangements.  I’d fly out to L.A. and spend a night downtown, with Dave and me meeting for a meal or coffee. 

 

After two weeks of non-stop muscle fantasies I landed in L.A. and went to the Biltmore.  I stopped masturbating two days before.  As hard as that was, I wanted to have all my engines ready in case something great might happen.  Dave had left a message and a day telephone number.  Before I even unpacked, I called him up.  I was amazed at how relaxed I was.

 

“This is Dave.”

“Hi Dave, this is Scott Reynolds.” 

“Great, I’ve been waiting for you to call.”

“Thanks for your message and my schedule is open.  What does yours look like?”

“ I kept dinner and this evening open, as well as tomorrow around lunch.  Unless the air travel  

         bushed you, would you like to have dinner together?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Let’s make it easy and plan to eat in the main dining room of your hotel.  Would that be ok?”

“Sure.  What time?”

“How about 6pm?”

“Fine and I’m laughing because I certainly don’t need to ask you what you look like.  I got your

         picture from Dr. Russell.”

“I got yours too.  Should be no problem.”

“See you at 6pm Dave.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting you.”

“Thanks. Same goes for me.”

 

Oh my God.  I was damn near hyperventilating with another combination of anxiety and excitement.  His picture.  His picture was astounding.  He was in a pair of very small posers that could not hide an extremely big package.  I’d never seen a package that big before…only in morphs.  I’d been looking at the thing everyday for the last two weeks.  He’s a blond version of Pete K.  A great combination of muscle mass, cuts, and a flurry of hair across his square pecs and down his six pack of abs.  His hair is cut short and he has an easy look about him.  I love his confident, mature and very masculine look.  I hope his insides match his outsides.  If they don’t, I’ll walk away from this and tell Dr. Russell to start another search.

 

But, still, I had a good feeling about him.  I loved the soft yet strong sound of his voice.  He seemed truly interested in meeting and was well organized.  I liked that.

 

More Fantasy

 

My mind flashed back on what it might be like in the guest room.

 

God, as we lay down in our clothes on the big bed, I couldn’t wait to explore his bulging basket, straining his tightly wrapped and faded jeans.  I had a hunch from the definition of his cock and its expansion (that was now up to his narrow waist) that he wasn’t wearing any underwear.  I ground myself into his hulking body and moved myself down his torso, over his cinder block abs.   I locked my arms on either side of his narrow waist and spreading lats.  It felt unnatural – my arms weren’t parallel – they were twice as wide at my hands as I pulled my elbows in to lock onto his tiny waist.

 

Then, as I put my nose and closed mouth on top of his huge hard steel tube, it was clear he was very very hard.  It had to be at least eight inches.  Its thickness was challenging the stretch of his jeans up and down its length.  The fabric tension between the top ridge of his cock “downhill” on either side of his jeans was amazing.  God, I truly love the mystery of a huge basket, cock, and balls being covered.  I tried to push it with my mouth and rubbed it with my nose.  There was no give --.  None.  I looked up at him with a big smile.  He moved his arms back behind his head with a very self-satisfied grin on his face and said “I’m all yours, Scott. Go for it, buddy.”  Just to make his point even clearer, he arched his back and thrust his hips up to within two inches of my slightly raised face.

 

Okay, Scott, get back to reality here.

 

After a two-hour nap, I put on some good-looking casual clothes and fussed with myself enough to get me to the point of feeling “well put together” – especially important for our first meeting.

 

In the restaurant I found a table somewhat off in the corner and left instructions with the hostess that I was waiting to be joined by another “gentleman.”  I liked using that word, “gentleman.” 

 

I was sipping at my water and watching the glass doors.  When a particular guy walked in, I knew it was him.  I felt instantly weak (It’s easy for me to feel truly weak with muscle guys.  But, of course, we already know that! ).  God, what a huge guy, even from forty feet away.  He was dressed in dress slacks, a faux turtleneck, and a light brown tailored sports jacket.  Damn.  He was literally bulging out of his jacket.  My mind went nuts for a moment imagining his bare, cut, and hairy arms, and his massive thick neck. 

 

Despite the close haircut, he had a full head of hair, a mixture of blond and some brown.  Sexy is an understatement.  I’d clearly hit pay dirt in the mammoth physique department.  I’d dreamed of this meeting for so many years.  It really was happening.  I was overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude, excitement, and lust, lots of lust.  As he walked so gracefully and easily over to the table, I stood up, came around in front of the table (I was trying to hide my nervousness), looked directly into his eyes, and put my hand out, confidently.

 

We both said “hello and good to meet ya’” at the same time.  We both chuckled.  My knees still felt a little jittery.  I was already perspiring again.  We said down across from each other.  I really was nervous now.  He seemed incredibly relaxed.  He said it was a little too hot and he got up and took his jacket off.  Now, that was an experience to watch that will forever be burned into my memory.  It amazes me that already huge and massive muscles can look even more so when covered in a tight full-body top.  Fuck, he just exuded sexual energy and hyper-masculinity in extreme proportions.  I knew he was watching my eyes dart all over him as I tried to comprehend the massive musclegod that was now right next to me.  He smile seemed to say “Yeah, I understand…get this all the time.” 

My very stiff cock was aching in a way it hadn’t in years. 

 

End of Part I

Part II to follow.

Copyright©[email protected]

Feedback welcomed.  No flames, please.

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Yes, darn it.  I guess I just had a "brain glitch"....I certainly could have posted the text.

My apologies to everyone for the inconvenience.

Nevertheless, hope you like the four parts.

Msclvrtoo

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  • 6 years later...

I like the story line. I’m hoping Mr. Reynolds will he developing a muscular physique with the help of Dr. Russell to align with Dave. Also would be helpful to share a bit more detail on Dave’s development and life story. Thank you!

Look forward to more....

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