m/m The Wall (chapter 42, added 12/26).

[Maxum]

The Wall, Chapter 31 “Friends in Need”

I remembered the first time I met John and Ernie. I had just moved out to Long Island, and moving and delivery trucks were lined up and down the street. My interior designer was running the show like a three ring circus when two guys showed up with an INCREDIBLE arrangement of flowers. One of the guys (turned out to be Ernie) said he had a welcome gift for the new owner; so, I took the arrangement and thanked him for the delivery and went back in the house. When I looked for a card, I found none; so I went back to the door and found the two gentlemen still standing there.

“There isn’t a card. Can you check if it fell off in your van? I want to know who to thank for such a beautiful gift.”

“You’re welcome,” one of them said. “I’m Ernie, and this is John. We’re your new neighbors over the hedge. We own Petal Pushers, the local florist. The flowers are from us. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

I felt my cheeks redden. “Oh, gosh, fellas. I had no idea you weren’t just the delivery guys.” 

Ernie surveyed his own outfit and took on a look of indignance. This first encounter was not going so well.

I continued, “It’s just a little bit crazy today. Oh, where are my manners? Thank you so much for the unbelievable flowers. Would you like to come in? Can I offer you something to drink?”

Ernie was about to respond when John, who had been silent up until now, blurted out, “Where is your wife?”

Ernie shot John a look that could kill.

“Oh, I’m not married,” I replied with a smile.

John returned Ernie’s look of disdain with the raise of an eyebrow.

“Girlfriend?... Boooyyyfriend?” John continued. He was sizing me up.

“Nope. I’m hopelessly single for now.” Cryptic. I was smiling inside and wanted to have some fun of my own. “How about you two. Do you have wives over the hedge whom I should be meeting?”

Ernie scoffed, and John stared slack-jawed. “Oh, good heavens, NO.”

“Oh, I see… Confirmed bachelors?”

“Mmmm hmmm.”

I broke into a broad toothy grin. “And is your gaydar ping-ping-pinging?”

John adjusted the bulge at his crotch and announced, “Mine’s been pinging all morning, and now it’s about to go off like a rocket.”

“John!” Ernie scolded. 

John shrugged.

I asked, “What gave me away?”

“Muscles,  manners and money.” John looked me down and then up. 

Ernie continued, “The combination is found in no cohort other than gay men. If you had been so polite as to inquire after our mothers, it would have been a slam dunk.”

“How rude of me! How are your mothers?”

“Dead,” replied Ernie without skipping a beat. Then he added, “I’m very sad to say.”

John continued, “…, but they would have been all over you if they were still with us.”

Ernie rolled his eyes in mock disgust toward his husband, “Good heavens, John!"  and then said to me, “He’s probably right, you know. His mother had a series hot, hunky husbands." He looked over at John who was staring right at my biceps stretching the sleeves of my polo. "Apparently the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.” After a snicker and a short pause, he nudged John out of his stupor and suggested, “Say… why don’t you come over to our place for an escape from this madness. You’re decorator Trixie Whatever can manage all of this,” he said, waving his hands in the air, “and we can have a picnic in the garden and become acquainted as neighbors. The gardens are lovely around here. We are quite proud of ours.”

So I followed Ernie and John through a break in the hedge and we had our first of many picnics in their garden. The laughter began, and the friendship was sealed, and we became the best friends and neighbors we could ever have hoped for. I spent plenty of time in the city working, but when I was out on the island, it was as if the hedge between us didn’t even exist. We were in and out of each other’s gardens, houses and lives like we were all family. They had tried to find me a match, or occasionally just someone (or someones) to play with until I figured out that I really loved Pup. It was all just about to be perfect.

Now, here I was at 33,000 feet speeding home as fast as I could because John was suddenly in harm’s way, and Ernie needed me. They both needed me, and I couldn’t get to them quickly enough. 

Thank God for Daphne, her quick thinking, decisive actions and exceptional skills at solving a problem. Somehow, I knew she was more than glad to have been awakened from sleep to effect a solution that removed all impediments and teed me up to succeed. It was instinctive for her, and she never let me down. She was like a second right hand, an independently functioning brain, a surrogate me. I had seen her potential at work, and I had given her the autonomy and tools that she needed to realize her potential. She was better than the sum total of James Bond’s Moneypenny and Q, Batman’s trusty butler Alfred, and Superman’s Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen. 

I had so many friends who made me complete, and I had so many things for which to be grateful. At 33,000 feet in the air, I found comfort and strength in that thought. And then, too, there was Pup.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Howyadoin’ Max?”

“Ohhhh… I’m hanging in there, Pup. I’d be a lot better if this plane could go faster, but there is just no way to get from Amsterdam to New York in much less than 8 hours. How about you?”

“I’m fine – just worried about John… worried about Ernie… worried about you. The usual.” He kissed me softly on the cheek. I closed my eyes and pulled the back of his hand to my face, inhaled his scent, and kissed it. When I opened my eyes and looked up, Pup’s eyes were waiting for me. 

“It’s going to be okay, Max.”

“I hope you’re right, Pup. I hope you’re right.” I closed my eyes again, and I prayed for the first time in a very long time. 

About an hour into the flight, I called Ernie.

“Max, where are you.”

“We’re in jet over the North Sea, headed home. How’s John?”

“He’s holding his own. His oxygenation levels are stable, and they’ve been able to hold off intubating him, at least for now. Nobody knows enough about this virus, and the doctors are very guarded with any positive news, but one of the nurses said he thought John was doing better than a lot of other people and gave me some hope. I’m on my way to King’s Point now. They sent me home. I was ordered into home-isolation because I’ve obviously been exposed to John, and they don’t want me giving the virus to anyone else if I have it. When you get home, you should isolate, too.”

I listened to his words and looked at Pup, wondering if I could have picked up the virus myself and unknowingly given it to the one person on earth who I loved more than all others.

Ernie continued, “You’ll see when you get here. Everything has changed. Since you left just a few days ago, New York has turned into a post-apocalyptic nightmare. Covid cases are exploding, and Cuomo is shutting everything down. He just signed an Executive Order closing all non-essential businesses statewide. Basically only businesses related to food production, shipping, healthcare and financial services are allowed to stay open. Theaters and restaurants are closed. People are panicking. Manhattan is a ghost town.”

“Is there any way to see John?”

“No, Max. I’m sorry. I can’t even get in to see him. They let me face time with him for a few minutes, but he was so short of breath that he couldn’t really talk. I told him I love him. I told him you were on your way home.” Then he added, “I feel a little bit guilty. You should have probably stayed in Amsterdam. There’s nothing you can do here.”

“No Ernie. I need to be home. I need to be close to John and close to you. We’ll all get through this together, even if we have to be in separate rooms.” I added, “I’ll call you again when we land, Ernie. Pup’s sending you love and good wishes. I love you, too, Ernie. Bye.”

When we touched down at Teterboro, a black Escalade met our jet on the tarmac and whisked us off across a strangely trafficless George Washington Bridge and an even more strangely deserted New York. 

I phoned Ernie en route. 

“Hi Ernie. We landed about 20 minutes ago and we’re crossing The Bronx now. It’s eerily quiet – just the sounds of sirens – and nobody’s out on the street. How’s John?”

“No change. The good news is that he’s holding his own. They’ve been able to hold off intubating him, and they’ve moved him to a unit outside of the ICU. We’ve got two iPads on facetime; so, I’m able to watch over him from his side table, and he can see that I’m here if he happens to look up. I watched him sleep for the first time in 24 hours and nodded off myself for a while. He was watching me when I awoke, and he gave me a thumbs up, but he looks ragged, Max.” 

“How about you, Ernie? How do you feel? Any signs you might be coming down with anything?”

“Oh, no, Max. Thanks for your concern. I’m exhausted, but otherwise I feel fine. You know me, I never get sick. My first Covid test came back negative. I’m supposed to have two more tests over the next 4 days to be certain. I can’t get sick. I can’t have Ernie worrying about me. He needs to reserve his strength for himself.”

“Understood. Just be sure to take care of yourself.” I looked out the window, “We’re just coming up on the Whitestone Bridge now and should be home soon if this no-traffic situation continues. Is there anything we can pick up for you along the way?”

“No. I’m all set. Just get home safely. By the way, you don’t need to pick up anything yourself. There’s a surprise in your driveway... Daphne, I suspect.”  

“What do you mean.”

“You’ll see. Call me later. Bye.”

About 15 minutes later, we pulled up to the house. As advertised, there was a surprise in the driveway, and it wasn’t subtle. A delivery truck was idling, and as we pulled in, a built guy with clip board hopped out of the cab…

 

[Mdlftr]

Loving this!  With all the local details, I can't believe you haven't spent very much (if any ) time on Long Island, Maxum!

The flashback was terrific!  It set up the background for the first chapter.  Maybe we'll hear more about pool parties of the past......? And parties? With catering?  {Remember my suggestion for the hot Guido caterers!).

Mdlftr

[arpeejay]

Better and better although I'm surprised Max and Pup's actual (as opposed to disguised) weights didn't throw off the jet's balance! "Sirs, you can't both sit on the same side at the same time!"

[Mdlftr]

52 minutes ago, arpeejay said:

Better and better although I'm surprised Max and Pup's actual (as opposed to disguised) weights didn't throw off the jet's balance! "Sirs, you can't both sit on the same side at the same time!"

It's a magic density transposition factor - involving the square root of the sum of total amount of weights lifted divided by the amount of protein consumed in the previous 24 hours, minus the amount of ejaculate expelled in the previous 18 hours --- *Yawn* -- quite a simple calculation, really!

[21inchgunshow]

Wonderful cadence to this story. I'm not complaining about all the chapters that were about sex and muscle worship, but I love the story line, too.

[21inchgunshow]

Any chance we'll see an update soon?

[Maxum]

The boys are playing out their shenanigans in my head. Every time I start writing, I end up jacking off to the hot scenes I've imagined instead. Not good for productivity. I'll try to concentrate harder on keeping my hands on the keyboard.

[Freaker2]

11 hours ago, Maxum said:

The boys are playing out their shenanigans in my head. Every time I start writing, I end up jacking off to the hot scenes I've imagined instead. Not good for productivity. I'll try to concentrate harder on keeping my hands on the keyboard.

So understandable when your heart's pounding after just a glance at a huge heavy barbell loaded to the max you know needs your muscles. As only your huge muscles can lift it. 

[Vinx84]

Lustfully waiting for the next installment 

[Maxum]

Sorry to have been so long between posts. I've had a busier couple of months and really just couldn't devote any time to updating the story. Here's a brief chapter. More on the way if I can claw back some free time. -M

The Wall, Chapter 32 “Curtis”

Pup was out of the SUV in a flash while I settled up with the driver. I watched Pup’s incredible ass and wide back flex and undulate as he strode across the driveway. At the same time, the built delivery guy (“Curtis” according to his name badge) approached Pup to request a signature, subtly flaring his lats and puffing out his thick chest. My cock was stirring at the sight of the young gladiators, and I noticed the bulge in Curtis’s pants becoming more prominent with each step that he took. Pup noticed, too, and the outline of his own oversized member grew as he closed the gap. By the time Curtis handed the clip board over to Pup, the outline of 8 inches of steel flesh was pointed up and to the right and pulsed to the beat of his heart. He looked Pup up and down and then stood tall, flexing subtly and puffing out his chest just enough to be noticed. Pup was bigger, clearly the alpha, and Curtis wanted Pup’s approval or at least his attention. 

Pup took the clip board from Curtis’s big calloused hands but ignored the pen attached by a chain. Instead, he reached into Curtis’s left breast pocket and retrieved a different pen, copping a feel of Curtis’s pec as he did and allowing his hand to trail over Curtis’s rounded left deltoid and the big arm that looked shrink-wrapped in the company uniform that wasn’t designed to cover such a magnificent limb. I exited the car and barked a resounding reminder, “Six feet, Pup. Remember what brought us home in the first place.”

Pup pulled back his hand, and both men took a step back, acknowledging my well-made point. I looked more closely at Curtis, the shelf of his pecs, the shelf of his ass, and the prodigious bulge in his pants, and I understood why Pup might have lost his good judgement for a minute. My own club of a dick began to snake down my pants. A vision on Curtis being spit roasted between Pup and me flashed in front of my eyes, and I grabbed my hardening member, giving it a pleasurable squeeze before adjusting it across my left hip. God I was horny. Despite the stress of the day, my concern for John and Ernie, and fatigue from a long flight, I really needed to get off. Specifically I needed to fuck, and watching Pup’s beefy glutes flex and relax as he strode across the driveway had started my engine. My imagination was getting the best of me, and I could almost feel the warmth of his perfect ass enveloping my hardon. It had been 10 hours since my last orgasm, and I was realizing that my newly evolved sexual capacity brought a heightened need that would require some attention sooner than later. My reservoir was filling and in danger of overflowing.

 

My eyes drifted back to the truck in my driveway. Calling the near full size tractor trailer a delivery truck was a massive understatement. On the side was the logo for the wholesaler Costmo, and I could only imagine what items Pup had just accepted. As Curtis unloaded the first dolly stacked high with boxes from the container, I got a text from Daphne.  

“Hi Max. I received notice you arrived home safely. Sorry you weren’t able to see John. Let me know how he’s doing, and give him my best. 

“I took the liberty of ordering a few bulk items that you can store in your cellar. The quantity may seem excessive, but I’ve heard there will be shortages, and I know you like being generous with your neighbors and friends. There should be enough for you to share. 

“We’re all working remotely for now. I’m always available. Let me know if you need anything, and I’ll try to anticipate anything else. D.”

I looked back to the truck. I couldn’t wrap my mind around what Daphne was thinking, but she never failed me and was usually better prepared than a Red Cross mobile disaster unit; so I trusted her instincts and looked on with bemusement.  My eyes fell back to Curtis as he maneuvered and carried some of the heavier items. I couldn’t keep my eyes off his ample, beefy ass and overstuffed basket, and those arms and chest threatened to burst the seams of his work clothes. The skin of his forehead had taken on the sheen of light perspiration, and he looked up at me as he unfastened the second and third buttons of his undersized shirt. The deep cleavage between his thick pecs came into view, and drop of sweat rolled down the side of his neck and followed the deep ravine and disappeared into his shirt. Sweat stains were beginning to form at his arm pits, and the smell of masculinity wafted across the driveway and assaulted my senses. I inhaled deeply and savored his musk. I felt my resolve to refrain soften as my cock thickened and became harder than steel.

It was getting more difficult to keep my urges under control. Pup had disappeared into the house with our bags and Curtis was wheeling another pallet into the cellar. I would be alone in driveway for 2 to 3 minutes, and I was becoming desperate for some sort of release. Now was my chance. 

I approached the cab of the truck, squatted down deep and gripped the front bumper. Then ever so slowly I began to push up with my legs. The weight engaged slowly at first as the springs, struts and shock absorbers unloaded, still carrying some of the weight of the cab. Then I reached the extent of their assistance as the front wheels slowly rose from the pavement. Supporting the full weight of the truck, I felt the erotic sensation of my muscles engaging. The truck felt heavy, and heavy felt good. It felt really good, and as my legs, glutes and back flexed with incredible power, contracting into masses of illimitable strength, my cock hardened to steel and buzzed with anticipation. As I pushed up with my legs and my ass, I pulled with my back, shoulders and arms. Hard cords of muscle thickened into cables and columns of strength. I felt my shoulders expand. My pecs ballooned under my shirt. My neck and traps thickened. Fuck! It felt good to be strong. In my mind, I heard the words, “… more powerful than a locomotive...” Seams on my shirt and my pants pulled apart, and buttons flew from my chest. As I curled the weight of the truck to my chest, my sleeves literally shredded over the peaks of my biceps. My cock was so hard. I was ready to blow. 

I was lost in the fantasy of self-admiration when I heard a gasp. I looked up just in time to see Curtis wrestle his fat, swollen cock from his pants just before the first volley of cum erupted from the shiny, purple head of his dick. I doubt he had ever ejaculated with such force. He went off like 4^th of July fireworks, and, as a tribute to the show, I lowered the truck and then curled it again. I held it in place with one hand and then curled my right fist to my forehead, causing the peak of my biceps to rise up to my lips. Curtis’s hips bucked with renewed force, and his cock continued to spasm, but he was firing blanks at this point. I lowered the truck to the ground and ripped the remaining shredded clothes from my torso. Then I just stood there, staring at him, bare to the waist. Breathing. Relaxed pose, my signature, now fully realized and deeply inscribed on the insides of Curtis's eyelids for the rest of his life. His needs had been met. Now I needed to find Pup...