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Hey Everyone, Evolution of Strength: Book 2 continues the intense journey of physical transformation, camaraderie, and personal growth. The story follows the close-knit "Tribe" as they tackle their muscle-building goals with unwavering focus, living together in a warehouse mansion where every day is shaped by their obsession with growth and strength. New characters, like the driven and athletic Blake Donovan, add fresh dynamics to the Tribe as their ambitions push them toward physical extremes. I hope you enjoy this next installment, which follows Jacob, Austin, Ryan, Hadi, and the other members of the Tribe on their evolution of strength. Like Book 1, this installment has 50 chapters, but I am continuing to edit, so keep those comments and suggestions coming. I love to rewrite your ideas into the storyline if they work. Here's the link to the first book if you want to go back and get caught up: Evolution of Strength - Book 1 ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Chapter 1: New Beginnings, Old Desires The Tribe was gathered in the expansive kitchen of the warehouse mansion, surrounded by gleaming countertops and industrial-chic decor. It was late summer, and the buzz of a new semester hung in the air, blending with the aroma of freshly blended protein shakes and sizzling eggs on the stove. The tribe’s camaraderie was palpable, a tight-knit family bound by sweat, muscle, and shared goals. Jacob leaned against the counter, his muscular frame stretching his T-shirt to its limits, watching as Austin fidgeted with his coffee mug. There was a hint of hesitation in Austin’s eyes, a flicker of uncertainty that Jacob could read like a book. Austin always had that look when he was about to bring up something he knew Jacob might not like. "Hey, babe," Austin began softly, glancing up at Jacob with a tentative smile. "I’ve been thinking… maybe we could think about moving back to the dorms this semester? I kind of miss being around campus, you know? All the energy and stuff." Jacob’s brow furrowed slightly, his deep-set eyes fixed on Austin’s face. "The dorms?" His voice was gentle but firm, the protective tone of his inner ‘Gorilla’ coming through. "I thought we were happy here. We’ve got everything we need—space, privacy, and no annoying RA breathing down our necks." Austin bit his lip, nodding slowly. He knew Jacob was right, but he still felt a tug towards the dorm life, even if it was just a fleeting feeling. "I know, I know. It’s just… sometimes I miss the noise, the people. But hey, if you’re happy here, then I am too. You know I always give in to you, big guy." He flashed a playful grin, leaning in to press a kiss on Jacob’s cheek. "Besides, you’re the boss." Jacob’s stern expression softened, and he wrapped a thick arm around Austin, pulling him close. "Hey, let’s see how it goes and if you really want to, we can talk to Hadi about renting one of the small apartments next to campus for some nights during the school week. I just want what’s best for us, Monkey. We’re a team, right?" Austin nodded, resting his head against Jacob’s chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat. "Always, Gorilla. Always." With the tension between them melting away, the conversation shifted to other topics, laughter filling the room as they talked about the upcoming semester and their training plans. As the morning passed, Hadi announced the arrival of a new addition to their tribe—a personal assistant he had recently hired to help manage his busy life. The morning air felt thick, charged with something more than just the sun filtering through the high windows of the warehouse. Zane couldn’t quite place it, but as Hadi shared the news, he felt the undercurrent shift. “His name is Blake Donovan,” Hadi said, holding his phone up for everyone to see. The handsome young man in the picture radiated raw, unpolished energy—dark, unruly hair framing a face that still held onto its youth, despite the tightness in his jaw. His muscular, athletic frame filled the photo, nothing like the hulking mass of muscle Zane was used to, but there was something else—an intensity that intrigued him. "Used to be one of my wrestling students, fresh out of high school, finished top of his class. His dad kicked him out at 16 when he found out Blake was gay." Hadi’s voice was low, almost matter-of-fact, but the weight of it hung in the air. Zane nodded, his eyes lingering on the photo longer than he meant to. "Looks like he’ll fit right in," he muttered, though the words felt off somehow as if they didn’t capture the hum beneath his skin. When Blake arrived later, Zane watched from a distance. The young stud looked even sexier in person, and there was a sharpness to him, the way he moved like he was always one step away from running but forcing himself to stay grounded. Zane’s eyes traced the lines of Blake’s body—lean, but tight, like a coiled spring ready to explode. He took in the soft curve of his lips, the wide-eyed awe as Blake took in the expanse of the old factory-turned-luxury loft. It was more than curiosity. There was an attraction there, a pull that neither of them could name yet, but Zane felt it deep in his bones. Blake’s energy was palpable, nervous, and electric, a flame flickering too close to something combustible. And every time Zane looked at him, that flicker grew. Blake noticed him too. The flush in his cheeks, the darting glances when he thought no one was watching, the way his body stiffened slightly whenever Zane’s voice rumbled through the room. It was obvious, almost too obvious, and Zane felt that same heat creeping up his spine. Later that day, Zane found himself standing outside Blake’s door, drawn by the quiet sound of movement inside. He hadn’t planned it—at least not consciously—but there he was, leaning against the frame, smirking as the door cracked open and those wide eyes met his. "Hey, pup," Zane drawled, his voice dipping low, knowing full well the effect it had. Blake’s breath hitched slightly, his body tensing and Zane felt a rush of satisfaction. "Figured I’d come to check on you, see how you’re settling in." Blake blinked up at him, clearly trying to keep his cool, but his voice betrayed him. "Uh, yeah... I’m... I’m good. Just, you know, unpacking." His gaze flickered nervously, but Zane caught the way his eyes lingered on his chest, the way Blake’s lips parted just slightly like he was already imagining something more. Zane didn’t wait for an invitation. He stepped inside, letting the door close behind him with a quiet thud. The air between them was thick and heavy with something unspoken but undeniable. He let his eyes roam over Blake’s form, appreciating the way his t-shirt clung to his toned body, the way his muscles twitched under the scrutiny. "You’ve got a good build," Zane said, his voice dripping with intention. He let his fingers trail casually down Blake’s arm, watching as the younger man shivered under his touch. "Ever thought about putting on some real size? Filling out a bit more?" Blake swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. "I... yeah, I mean, I’ve thought about it, but... I don’t really know where to start." His voice was quieter now, almost hesitant, but Zane could see the way his body responded, the way he leaned ever so slightly into the touch. “I have always wanted to be huge, just not interested in being on stage. Not my vibe.” Zane grinned, stepping in closer, his body heat radiating into the space between them. "You don’t need a stage to get bigger, pup. Just the right kind of focus." His hand slid down, fingers brushing over the hard lines of Blake’s stomach, feeling the tension coil under his skin. "And I think you’ve got plenty of that." Blake’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes wide as Zane leaned in, the heat of their bodies almost too much to bear. The tension snapped, and before Blake could say a word, Zane’s lips crashed against his, hot and hungry, like he’d been waiting for this moment longer than he’d admit. Blake melted into him, his hands instinctively gripping Zane’s thick shoulders, pulling him closer. Zane dominated the kiss, his lips rough and insistent, demanding more with every second. Blake moaned, soft and desperate, his body pressing up against Zane’s like he couldn’t get close enough. Zane growled low in his throat, breaking the kiss just enough to murmur against Blake’s lips. "Been watching you, pup. Since the second you walked through that door." His hands slid under Blake’s shirt, fingers brushing over his heated skin, mapping the planes of his chest, his sides. "Knew you’d be trouble for me." Blake’s cheeks flushed, but his eyes darkened, filled with a hunger that matched Zane’s. "I’ve been watching you too," he whispered, voice shaky but honest. "Ever since I saw your pictures on Insta, you’re so much bigger in person." Zane grinned wickedly, his hand tightening around Blake’s waist as he pushed him back against the wall, pressing his body into the younger man’s. "Good. Then you know what’s coming." Without another word, Zane lifted Blake effortlessly, his strong hands gripping his hips as he carried him to the bed, laying him down with a surprising gentleness. Blake’s chest heaved, eyes wide as Zane pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the tattooed expanse of his massive chest, every muscle flexing with raw power. Blake couldn’t take his eyes off him, the heat between them unbearable. Zane smirked, leaning down to claim his lips again, his hands roaming over Blake’s body, feeling the way he responded, the way he arched into his touch. Every kiss, every brush of skin felt like fire, and Blake was burning up, desperate for more. "Zane... please..." Blake’s voice was barely a breath, his fingers digging into Zane’s shoulders as he pulled him closer, needing to feel him, needing everything. Zane chuckled, his lips brushing against Blake’s ear as he growled softly. "Don’t worry, pup. I’m just getting started." Zane's breath was hot against Blake’s ear, sending shivers down his spine as the huge bodybuilder trailed his lips down Blake’s neck, nipping at the sensitive skin just hard enough to make him gasp. Zane loved that sound—raw, unfiltered desire—and he wanted more of it, wanted Blake to unravel beneath him. "God, you're fucking perfect," Zane muttered, his voice a deep, gravelly growl as his hands wandered lower, tracing over Blake’s abs, his fingertips skimming along the waistband of his jeans. Each touch was deliberate, teasing, drawing Blake closer to the edge without giving him what he so obviously craved. Blake squirmed beneath him, his breath coming in shallow gasps as his hips instinctively bucked toward Zane’s hand, desperate for more contact. His mind was spinning, consumed by the heat, the pressure, the overwhelming intensity of Zane’s huge body so close, pressing him down, dominating him in a way that made him feel powerless and powerful all at once. "Zane..." Blake's voice cracked, his fingers clutching at Zane’s huge tattooed arms, feeling the muscles ripple under his palms. He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t form a coherent thought other than how badly he wanted Zane to keep touching him, to keep pushing him further into this unfamiliar territory where nothing else mattered but the man on top of him. "Please..." That single word was all it took for Zane to snap. He grabbed Blake’s hips, yanking him closer, his fingers digging into the younger man’s skin with just enough force to make Blake whimper. Zane's lips found Blake’s again, kissing him harder, deeper, his tongue slipping past his lips to claim him completely. Blake’s body trembled as Zane’s hand slid lower, deftly unbuttoning his jeans with one swift motion. Zane pulled back for a moment, locking eyes with Blake, his gaze dark and intense, filled with an almost predatory hunger. "You want this, don’t you?" Zane's voice was low, dripping with a confidence that made Blake’s pulse quicken. His hands tugged at Blake's waistband, fingers brushing against his skin as he started to pull the fabric down. Blake nodded quickly, too breathless to speak, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted it more than anything, and Zane knew it—he could feel the raw need radiating off of Blake’s body. Zane smirked, his eyes never leaving Blake’s as he peeled the jeans down, letting them fall to the floor in a careless heap. Blake’s body was laid bare before him now, and Zane took a moment to admire the sight—lean, toned muscles, smooth skin, every inch of him practically begging to be touched. Blake’s throbbing 10-inch cock standing high and proud aching for release. "Fuck, you’re beautiful," Zane muttered, almost to himself, as his hands roamed over Blake’s thighs, his touch firm but slow, savoring every reaction he pulled from the younger man. He leaned down again, his mouth finding Blake’s neck, his tongue tracing a line up to his jaw as he whispered against his skin, "I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good, pup." Blake’s breath hitched, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him, his mind clouded with nothing but pure, unadulterated want. The way Zane’s lips felt against his skin, the way his hands held him like he was something fragile but also something to be devoured—it was overwhelming. He arched into Zane’s touch, his hips grinding upward, searching for more, for anything. Zane chuckled darkly, enjoying the way Blake was falling apart under him. He slid one hand up Blake’s chest, his fingers tracing over his perky nipples, teasing them just enough to make Blake gasp again. His other hand moved lower, finally wrapping around Blake’s huge cock, giving him a slow, deliberate stroke that made Blake’s entire body jolt with pleasure. "Fuck!" Blake hissed, his head falling back against the pillow as his body bucked up into Zane’s hand. Every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire, every touch sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through him. Zane’s grip tightened slightly as he worked Blake in long, measured strokes, watching every reaction, every gasp, every moan that slipped from the younger man’s lips. It was intoxicating, the way Blake was so open, so raw with his desire. Zane leaned down, kissing him again, swallowing the desperate sounds that came from his throat as he pushed Blake closer and closer to the edge. "You’re so fucking hot like this," Zane whispered against Blake’s lips, his voice rough with arousal. His hand sped up slightly, his thumb grazing over the sensitive tip, making Blake’s hips jerk violently. "Bet you didn’t think this was how your first night would go, huh?" Blake could barely form words, his body writhing under Zane’s relentless touch. His heart was racing, every muscle in his body taut with tension as he teetered on the edge of release. "Zane... I... I can’t... I’m—" "Shh, I know," Zane murmured, his lips brushing over Blake’s neck again, biting down just hard enough to leave a mark. "Cum for me, pup." The command was enough to send Blake over the edge. His body tensed, his breath catching in his throat as pleasure ripped through him, wave after wave crashing over him, leaving him shaking, gasping for air. He clung to Zane like a lifeline, his fingers digging into the other man’s shoulders as his climax hit him hard and fast, leaving him utterly spent. Zane watched him with a satisfied smirk, his hand slowing but never stopping, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure from Blake’s trembling body. "That’s it, pup," Zane purred, his voice soft but filled with dark satisfaction. "That’s what I wanted." Blake lay there, panting, his body still twitching with aftershocks, his mind spinning from the intensity of it all. Zane leaned down, kissing him softly now, gentle, almost tender, a stark contrast to the raw hunger from before. "You okay?" Zane asked, his voice quieter, his hand resting on Blake’s chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heartbeat. Blake nodded weakly, still trying to catch his breath. "Yeah... yeah, I’m good," he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with a kind of contentment he hadn’t felt in a long time. His eyes fluttered open, meeting Zane’s, and he smiled—a real, genuine smile that made Zane’s heart do a strange little flip in his chest. Zane chuckled, leaning down to kiss him one more time, slow and deep, savoring the moment. His rough hand teased the still rock-hard 10-inch cock as he let his fingers drop lower until he reached the puckering tight hole, "Good. Because this is just the beginning, pup,” Chapter 2: Feeding the Obsession The morning light filtered through the thick curtains of the bedroom, casting long shadows across the floor. Blake lay sprawled on the bed, his chest still rising and falling from the intensity of the night before. He could feel the dull ache in his muscles, a reminder of Zane's power, the weight of the Brazilian's tattooed frame still lingering in his mind like a half-remembered dream. Zane was already up, standing in front of the full-length mirror, flexing his massive arms, the veins popping out like road maps etched into his skin. His high sex drive had brought him to Blake’s bed the night before, initially just to break the kid in and welcome him to the Tribe, but something had shifted. Something about Blake’s eagerness, his youthful energy, the way he practically worshipped Zane’s size—it had triggered something deep within the Brazilian bodybuilder. Blake stirred, his eyes slowly opening to the sight of Zane’s reflection, his heart skipping a beat at the sheer size of him. The young man’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, memories of the night before mingling with his own deep-seated desires. He had always been obsessed with muscle growth, with the idea of becoming something bigger, something powerful. And now, lying in bed after a night with Zane, that obsession felt more alive than ever. "Morning, big guy," Blake mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. He propped himself up on one elbow, his eyes drinking in the sight of Zane’s enormous body. Zane glanced over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Morning, pup. Sleep well?" Blake nodded, his gaze dropping to the thick cords of muscle running down Zane’s back. "Yeah… better than I have in a long time." Zane turned to face him, his massive chest heaving as he walked over to the bed. He sat down beside Blake, the mattress dipping under his weight. "You’ve got a good body, Blake. Strong, lean. But you want more, don’t you?" Blake swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. "Yeah… I do. I want to be like you, Zane. Huge, powerful. I’ve always wanted it." Zane’s eyes darkened with something that Blake couldn’t quite place. He reached out, running a hand down Blake’s arm, feeling the young man shiver under his touch. "Why? What drives you, pup?" Blake hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never really talked about it before—not like this. But something about Zane made him feel like he could. "I… I guess it started when I was young. I was always smaller than the other guys, weaker. My dad… he hated that I was different, that I wasn’t the tough son he wanted. When I started wrestling, I felt like I finally had a way to prove myself. But even then, it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted to be bigger, and stronger, something people couldn’t ignore. In all of my fantasies, I’m always much bigger and stronger. And now… seeing you… it just makes me want it even more." Zane listened, his expression unreadable as Blake poured out his heart. When the younger man finished, Zane leaned in closer, his breath hot against Blake’s ear. "You want to be a freak, don’t you? You want to be the biggest, the most powerful." Blake’s breath caught and his hard dick throbbed and began leaking, a thrill shooting through him at Zane’s words. "Yes," he whispered, his voice trembling with desire. "I want to be massive, Zane. I want to be like you. No… I want to be bigger than you." Something clicked inside Zane, a dark, primal urge rising to the surface. He had always been driven by his own desire to grow, to push his body to its limits and beyond. But now, hearing Blake’s obsession, feeling the raw hunger in the kid’s voice, Zane felt something new—a desire to mold this young man, to feed his obsession and see just how far Blake was willing to go. "You think you can handle it, pup?" Zane’s voice was a low growl, his eyes boring into Blake’s. "You think you can handle what it takes to get that big? Because I can show you…I can take you there. I can push you to places you’ve never even dreamed of." Blake’s heart raced, excitement and fear warring within him. "I want it, Zane. I want it more than anything." Zane’s smirk widened, and he reached out, grabbing Blake’s chin, and forcing the younger man to look up at him. "Then you’re mine now, pup. I’m gonna make you grow, make you into a fucking beast. But you’re gonna have to give me everything—your time, your body, your mind. No holding back." Blake’s breath caught in his throat, but he nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from Zane’s intense gaze. "I’m yours, Zane. I’ll do whatever it takes." Zane’s hand slid down to Blake’s throat, his grip firm but not painful. "Good. Then let’s get started." The rest of the morning was a blur. Zane took Blake through a brutal workout, pushing him harder than he had ever been pushed before. The younger man’s muscles screamed in protest, but he didn’t stop, didn’t complain. He wanted this—he wanted to be more, and Zane was the one who could make it happen. Afterward, Zane fed Blake a high-calorie meal, watching with satisfaction as the kid devoured every bite. There was a hunger in Blake’s eyes, a determination that Zane hadn’t seen in anyone else before. It was intoxicating. When the meal was over, Zane took Blake back to the bedroom, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. "You’re gonna grow, pup. But you’re gonna need to learn how to push through the pain, how to embrace it. And I’m gonna teach you." Blake nodded, his heart pounding with anticipation. He knew this was the beginning of something big, something life-changing. He was ready to give Zane everything, to let the Brazilian bodybuilder take control and guide him on this journey. As Zane’s hands roamed over his body, Blake closed his eyes, surrendering completely to the man he admired, the man he wanted to be like. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, that there would be pain, struggle, and sacrifice. But in that moment, with Zane’s touch igniting a fire within him, Blake knew it would all be worth it. — The next day early Monday morning, Blake sat at Hadi’s sleek, modern desk in the home office, his fingers flying over the laptop keyboard. The room was a blend of dark wood and glass, a high-tech command center tucked inside the industrial grandeur of the warehouse mansion. He had been up early, eager to impress on his first official day working with Hadi. Across the desk, Hadi leaned back in his chair, observing Blake with a quiet intensity. “Settling in alright?” he asked, his voice smooth and commanding, a hint of amusement in his tone. Blake nodded, eyes still fixed on the screen as he navigated the various software suites with ease. “Yeah, I think I’m getting the hang of it. Thanks for the opportunity, Mr. Al-Mansour.” “Just Hadi,” he corrected, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “And it seems like you’ve already made yourself quite at home. I heard about you and Zane last night.” Blake’s fingers hesitated for just a second, a flush creeping up his neck. “Oh, yeah… we, uh, hit it off pretty well.” Hadi chuckled softly. “I bet you did. Zane’s a good guy. Intense, but good. He’ll help you get where you want to go if you’re serious about it.” Blake nodded again, not trusting himself to speak. His mind was still swirling with the memories of Zane’s hands on his body, the promise of growth and strength hanging in the air like a tantalizing dream. But it wasn’t just Zane who occupied his thoughts. As he glanced around the room, his eyes caught on a framed photo on the bookshelf—a picture of Hadi standing next to a man who was easily the most massive human Blake had ever seen. The man was a towering giant of muscle, every inch of his body bulging with impossible size and definition. His skin stretched tight over veined, pumped muscle, his presence almost too much for the frame to contain. Blake’s breath caught, his eyes widening as he stared, transfixed. He barely heard Hadi speaking until he felt the man’s gaze settle on him. “Ah, I see you’ve noticed Ryan,” Hadi said, a knowing smile crossing his lips. “Hard not to, isn’t he?” Blake swallowed hard, tearing his gaze away from the photo with effort. “He’s… massive. I’ve never seen anyone like him before.” Hadi’s smile widened, a touch of pride shining in his eyes. “That’s my Big Ryan. We’ve been together for a while now, and he just keeps getting bigger. We’re planning to get married later this fall.” Blake’s mind reeled at the thought. Married? He’d heard stories about men like Hadi and Ryan—giants among men, pushing the limits of human potential. But to see it so plainly, to be so close to it, was something else entirely. “He’s not here today,” Hadi continued, “at a conference for Exercise Physiologists. But he’ll be back tomorrow. His office is just next door. When he’s around, you’ll be expected to take care of all of his needs. He can be quite… demanding.” Blake’s stomach fluttered with a mix of nerves and excitement. The idea of being near Ryan, of possibly even working directly for him, was almost too much to handle. He could feel a familiar tightness in his pants as his huge thick cock throbbed, his body betraying him as his thoughts wandered to the image of that immense, powerful physique. Hadi didn’t miss it. His sharp eyes flicked down to the growing bulge in Blake’s lap, a knowing smile curving his lips. “Seems like you’ve got a bit of an obsession yourself, don’t you, Blake?” Blake flushed, his face heating up as he tried to hide his now full erection, but Hadi’s steady gaze pinned him in place. “I… I just—yeah, I guess I do. I’ve always been obsessed with muscle growth. Seeing guys like you and Ryan, it’s… inspiring.” Hadi leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his eyes darkening with curiosity. “Inspiring, huh? Is that what you’d call it?” Blake nodded, swallowing against the dryness in his throat. “Yeah. I want to grow, to be massive like you guys. I’ve wanted it for as long as I can remember.” Hadi chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down Blake’s spine. “Well, you’re in the right place for that. But it’s not just about wanting it, Blake. It’s about commitment, every single day, about pushing yourself beyond what you think you’re capable of. Are you ready for that?” Blake met Hadi’s gaze, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the weight of the older man’s words, the challenge inherent in them. But he also felt something else—a spark of determination, a fire ignited by the possibility of what could be. “I’m ready, Hadi. Whatever it takes, I’m ready, sir.” Hadi’s smile widened, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. “Good. I will text Zane and let him know I support this goal and to do whatever it takes to get you there. That's settled now let’s get to work. First, I need you to set up a meeting with Sergeant Bennett. I want to talk to him about our security around here and offer him a job. After that, arrange a meeting with Manuel, my construction contractor. I need updates on the plans for the factory remodel. And finally, set up a meeting with Javier—Manuel’s boyfriend. I want to see if he’s interested in offering his services in the expanded gym area.” Blake nodded, already moving to jot down notes on his laptop. “Got it, Hadi. I’ll take care of it. Anything else, sir?” He asked as he stood, his 10-inch cock throbbing around his left hip. Hadi nodded approvingly, “That’s all…for now.” As Blake worked at his desk in the outer reception area of the offices, Hadi watched him with a thoughtful expression. The kid was good—sharp, efficient, and clearly dedicated. And he had potential. Maybe more than even he realized. By the time they broke for lunch, Blake had accomplished everything Hadi had asked for and more. He’d even taken the initiative to set up new security blockers on their internal systems, having hacked into Hadi’s network with surprising ease. It was a small test, a way to prove himself, and from the look on Hadi’s face, it seemed he had passed with flying colors. But as they stood up to leave, Hadi’s gaze flicked down to Blake’s crotch once more, the persistent large bulge still evident. “You might want to take care of that before Ryan gets back,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Wouldn’t want him to think you’re too distracted to do your job properly.” Blake blushed, his heart racing. “I… I’ll handle it,” he stammered, flustered by Hadi’s casual mention of his obvious arousal. Hadi chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder as they headed out of the office. “Good. Because once Ryan’s here, you’re gonna need to be at your best. Trust me.” Blake nodded, swallowing his nerves as he followed Hadi to the kitchen. He knew he had a lot to learn, but he was ready. And if being here meant he could be closer to giants like Hadi and Ryan and Zane, to see and experience firsthand what it meant to truly grow, then he was more than willing to do whatever it took.

Bron Breakker suffered yet another loss. He knew it was all a show but it dawned on him that he was relegated now to the jobber of the bunch. And he was tired of it. He slammed a locker door when he noticed me as to him; I just appeared out of nowhere. Startled, he jumped back. “Holy shit. Who are you and how’d you get back here? Sorry. I ain’t signing autographs right now.” As he waved me away. But I just gave him a solid look as I dug into my pocket and pulled out a vial with dark blue liquid floating inside. “Oh but I think you’ll like what I’m offering…” as I wave it in his face. He looks at me, he looks at the vial, looks at me and looks at the vial before waving me away once more. “I told you, not interested. Now scram before I call security.” He opened his locker once more to grab something and is surprised I’m still standing there. “Can’t you hear? Security-MMPH!” As I close his mouth shut with a hand and pop the vial off with my other hand as i waft the scents into his nose. Brown takes a whiff and suddenly his demeanor changes once he really takes a deep inhale. “The fuck is this?” As he yanks it out of my hand as he smells it on his terms, using an arm to give me and him some distance. “Oh that. Just something I’ve been making for a guy like you. Someone who is tired of being pushed around. Someone who is ready to take change and get the respect he deserves…” as my voice trails off. Brob raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah and this is going to do it? As if…” I shrug and take the vial out of his hands and he’s like a child now, upset that his favorite toy has been taken away. “I mean if you don’t want it, I’ll be sure to find someone else here who will gladly-“ I’m cut off as Bron swiped it out of my hand as he popped the top off and drank the mixture in a split second. It’s just what I wanted however as he stood there, waiting dir something to happen. “Ok now wha- woah-mmohmmm- fuck.” Bron groaned as he clenched his stomach as he told me how warm and hot he was getting… but that was it. What he didn’t notice was that I sneaked away for just a second and came back with some cream in my hands as Bron just stood there, almost awaiting orders. “What-what’s going on. I feel funny…” as he watched me come over, heavily applying more cream as I approached him and instantly applied the mixture to his chest. “Hey man-fuckkkkk… man I’m not gay…” as he couldn’t help but moan as my hands rubbed and massaged the mixture into him. I guided him forward as he landed on a bench as I continued to apply the cream on his chest. “Sure you aren’t Bron.” As I grin and really massage and worship those muscles. Bron couldn’t help but moan as he noticed the muscles I was massaging slowly grew to my touch. It turned me on making him grow as my fingers really got deep, which only made him grow thicker and thicker. I started with his upper body first as I massaged around his chest and traps. I could feel his muscles quiver and react as they swelled up huger and huger. Bron was practically turning into a muscle morph you see online as his pecs turned into a practical shelf as he couldn’t help but rub and massage his pec meat, moaning as his hands rubbed against now ultra sensitive aerolas. “Fuck… fuck don’t stop man… make me huge…” as he popped a double bicep as he awaited my hands to rub them. And rub them I did as I sat on his lap, grinding my ass against his erect cock which was straining in his spandex bottoms. My hands went deep against his biceps and triceps as I was sure to get into every inch of his muscle as his biceps began to throb and swell to my touch. By the time they were done growing, they were practically the size of large bowling balls, coursing with veins as Bron couldn’t help but flex those are muscles for me. “Oh yeah? You like that shit?” As he grinned. I nodded and paused to give one of his armpits a whiff as I could smell the muscle growth coming off of him as I wasn’t finished yet. I popped off his lap as Bron knew what I wanted and ripped his pants off completely. The tattered remains of his pants in pieces across the floor as he was too huge in the upper body to do anything at the moment. So I continued my work as my hands groped and rubbing one leg at the time. Bron howled in pleasure as those leg muscles of his grew to match the size and thickness of his arms as they were prime for worship. I had to make sure I applied my mix just right so he didn’t have one leg thicker than the other but I worked my magic and he was practically putty in my hands. “P-please… you’re not done yet are you?” Bron begged as he was now over 400lbs of huge, thick and ripped muscles. I practically creamed myself in my pants as the sight of how huge and thick Bron had became as he could be the new Mr.Olympia for the rest of his life with the amount of muscle put on him. But he was right. I wasn’t done. And I wanted to make him mine completely. “I have just enough left for someplace special to you…” as his cock was lost in the caverns of muscle. “I think you know what I want. I hope you understand if I do this, then their is no going back for you.” But it was like I was talking to a wall as he was already under my control, I just needed to seal the deal. “Yes yes yes. Please. I need this. I want this. I want to be yours. Your huge muscle slut. I dont care about wrestling right now. I just want to be yours to show off. Please do this to me. Finish this…” I could tell his mentality was shifting as the vial he drank first was nearly finished running its course. So I gave him what we both wanted. With the last of the cream, I poured the rest onto my hands and reached between his legs with both hands I gave his shaft slow and steady pumps. Bron couldn’t look down at me as his pecs were too huge to see, but I head him moan as his cock expanded inch my inch. I looked up, but just like him, I couldn’t see Brons expression as his muscles were blotting out the light in the locker room to see. But judging by the hot groans he made; I knew he loved what was happening. And now time to seal the deal. As his cock was still swelling, I got onto his lap as I dropped my pants on the ground. I then guided my ass towards the head of his swelling cock and I bent down until I felt that huge head of his push into my ass. I moaned loudly with Bron as my stomach bulges and stretched as his cock was still growing inside and I could feel it push and I had to be careful not to get stuck and be his living condom. I then began to hump and ride his gigantic cock as Bron could only sit as the effects were finally starting to wear off. Nearly 500lbs now of solid and thick muscle as he was wide as fuck and throbbing with muscle. He managed to grab me with both arms and thrust me up and down as I moaned his name with each bump. Despite his new size, we managed to lock eyes as the old Bron was gone from the world as he roared and came in me. I groaned happily as my stomach expanded and bloated with hot Bron cum as my prepared this all from the beginning to avoid any accidents. He continued cumming into me as I looked into his eyes once more as they were hazy and dazed. Bron was completely mine as he helped pop me off his now monster cock as I grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him down so I could kiss his face. Finished. He got on knee and knelt down by me , completing his journey from Bron Breakker to Bron the Bull Breaker as he couldn’t wait to please me.

I wanna preface this by saying that I apologize for taking so long to wrap this story up. It has been months! But life happens and the groove of things gets lost. Hopefully, this is a satisfying ending. Brace yourselves because this is a very long final chapter. Enjoy! *** “Open.” My lips parted like the red sea. Eagerly vacant and ready to eat just like a baby bird with its mother. Everything was running in slow motion. My eyes darted toward master’s pouted lips gunning a wad of saliva. Drip by drip, his essence glazed down my tongue, through my hole, tickling my uvula softly. “Good bitch!” he growled. His beastly hand gripped my jaw tightly and then took off before smacking my cheek. Many would find discomfort in this, but being with him inverted my nerves, what would cause me pain, suddenly shot down my spine and straight to my cock. The rubbing of his leather suit as he walked me on all fours to his couch echoed, reminiscing about our first encounter in the echoey locker room. He plopped himself across the couch. Pulling at the belt, drawing my head near him. His hot breath steamed my face, smelling of fresh mint. “You’ve wanted this for a while huh?” he whispered. I nodded. I dreaded working the night shift ever since Kyle began scheduling me for it. Every second in what was supposed to be the place where your mind clears out all of the terrible things was a place where I desired to end it all. The night that master set foot on that gym floor, I knew I was supposed to work the night shift for a reason. Where I thought I was working in the bane of my existence delivered to me the sole reason I existed. To serve. To surrender. To become nothing. To become my master’s nothing. “Say it,” he gripped the belt tighter. “Yes.” I gulped. “Yes what?” he barked “Yes- master” I gasped. He forced my head in the direction of his boots. “The best worship starts at the base,” he released his grasp from the belt loosely giving me enough distance to crawl to the other end of his 6-foot frame. My paws were caressing the bulky boots’ laces. Inches away, the strong familiar odor marinated around them. A small part of my brain tickled me pink from the bliss. “Take that dirty boot off you cunt!” master ordered. I swiftly removed the boot and pressed the entry against my snout. A deep inhale permeated my lungs like that first sip of ice water you take after waking up. “Without me even having to tell you,” master snarked, “there’s a good girl.” His calling me “girl” made my hole pulsate. I fixed my eyes on his bare feet. “Just for you,” he wiggled his toes, “I wore no socks the entire day at work.” I moaned at the sight of his sweaty, linty, feet. “Dig in,” he growled. My mouth engulfed his big toe like it was the head of a cock in one slurp. My tongue was sandwiched by his other toes as I slobbered. “Fuuuuuuck yea babe,” he moaned, “just like that. Who’s my good girl?” “Me master,” I spoke. “That’s for fucking sure. How do you like that taste, live up to your expectations?” he asked knowingly. “Its taste is unlocking new tastebuds I never knew I had, I am in ecstasy master,” I moaned. “Of course you are, and what do we say to master?” he asked. “Thank you,” I whimpered. “That’s right,” he leaned back and cupped his bulge, “you keep sucking and I might let you suck something else.” My oral skills were tested, but despite how tiring it can be, my comfort was sacrificed at the expense of his relaxation. My tongue and saliva can even go hours on end until it turns into beef jerky just so he can be satisfied. His sweaty feet pressed against my cheek, draping me in master’s scent. Minutes flew by. “Stop,” he commanded as he stood up from the couch. My leash tightened as he walked us into his bedroom. The door croaked open to expose the golden dome of the master bedroom. The penthouse suite. Fit for a king. “I am impressed,” he glanced, “not a single speck of dust even in the remote to my television, all of my files stacked neatly, my bedsheets practically ironed against the mattress. Open up.” His spit fired inches above my mouth, but before I could swallow, his lips pressed against mine. Was this happening right now? Did Master reward me with a kiss? “Again.” Again. “Swallow.” Swallow. “You liked that?” He beamed. “Yes, master.” “No bitch,” he cackled, “remember the term.” “Yes Daddy,” I gooned. “Good bitch,” he grinned. “Get up here.” He yanked my leash with brute force and my face was met with the crevice of his pit in a split second. The bush tickled my face and slipped into my nostrils completely fumigating my cranium. The smell of new like the smell of brand-new shoes blended in with expensive cologne and musky sweat. Delirium. “Lick that shit bitch!” My tired tongue brushed its surface with Daddy’s armpit hairs. His damp surface hydrated my drying tongue oh so slightly, but just enough to drive me to keep going. Eventually, I trailed my lather towards his nipple. His pec shelf enveloped me with sweat on his chest. “Hell yeah,” Daddy moaned, “you ready?” Without a second thought, he held my skull like a bowl and squeezed me into himself. The tip of my nose touched the base of his skin and my breathing lacked. Both ends of my cheeks hid in the middle of his suffocating bosom. I tapped his shoulder three times for him to release his grasp on me. “You’re at my mercy,” he huffed, “but don’t worry babe I’ll take care of you. I know when to let you breathe. Appreciate the mere fact that you’re getting to do this. Imagine the long line of closeted subs who just gawk at me from afar at the gym. But not you huh bitch? You had the guts to own up to it. To own up to your place beneath me. That’s my good bitch. That’s the sub that deserves to be suffocated by my pecs. A sub that gets to worship me!” A loud growl erupted from his lips as he let go of me. I let out a deep heavy sigh of pleasure. The pain of the pressure is molding me into his jewel for him to flaunt. Just like the rest of his golden throne and life of luxury, another piece of property manifests itself into the sub that I am becoming. Something he owns that he prides himself in. “Fuck yeah boy c’mere,” he growled. Our lips interfaced, violent wrestling against each other, but he reigns first. His tongue pierced inside my mouth filling the cavity and swirling inside. The sensation was so surreal my cock immediately ruptured with cum. My entire body twitched as he kept kissing me. Large strips of cum shot against Daddy’s hairy torso. His hand caressed my nipple triggering an even more euphoric sensation that made me ejaculate more. “You were supposed to wait for my command,” he chuckled, “but knowing THAT’S the power I hold over you is getting me bricked.” He undid his pants to reveal the gargantuan cock underneath. The massive Pringles can likeness of cock swung between us, dwarfing my leaking clit. “My turn,” he raised his eyebrows, “I’ll work you through it, but you WILL reach the base of my cock.” I assumed the position on all fours meeting at eye level with his cock. Already leaking precum, like a lollipop I engulfed the head. The back of my mouth bobbs up and down as he thrusts his hips in unison. “Fuck yeah baby,” he moaned, “suck it like it’s the air you breathe.” His comments inspired me to throat him more. My gag reflex was fighting demons as I furthered his shaft down my throat. The reflex won over as his tip scratched the top of my throat. “Fuck you suck it so good,” Daddy panted, “you suck better than any bitch I’ve had before. DAMN! Look at you, a cock starved whore! That’s a good girl!” With his member still in me I moaned as if my G-spot was in my throat. In and out he slid, a rhythm not even the world’s most renowned musicians could replicate. The gagging mixed with the slobbering all to the beat of my master’s panting. The face fuck of a lifetime. “Oh keep sucking it just like that,” he stroked his hips back and forth faster. My airways sealed but I couldn't care less. A hardwired lust grew tender within me. My gag reflex began to dissipate as every inch penetrated my hole. The edges of my lips lubricated in saliva and snot. The musky ball sweat imprinted across my skin. “You ready boy?” He shouted. “Open that fucking throat. ARGHHHHHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUUUUUCK.” His eyes rolled to the back of his head as each shot pulsated and traversed down my throat. And the base of his cock kissed my lips. “Swallow it all!” He barked. “Don’t you dare waste a drop!” And swallow it I did. The sea salt kettle corn flavor of his buttery cum immersed the pores of my tongue. The most addicting substance of all. “Finally,” I sighed. “Haha!” Daddy cackled. “How was it, boy?” “Purposeful,” I began, “like a piece of me was missing.” “I am that missing piece,” he huffed, “nothing will ever feel as good as serving your master, will it boy?” “No Daddy,” I bit my lip. “Your mind is mine,” he growled, “your clit is mine, your holes are mine, but above it all…” He leans forward and kisses me. “You are mine.” He smirked. “Understood?” “Yes sir!” I said. “You only respond to me from now on,” he said sternly, “quit your job. Fuck Kyle. His piece of shit gym does not deserve someone as attentive as you. I’ll take care of you from this moment forward.” His beastly hand caressed my cheek ever so softly. My eyes watered with joy as I realized how blissful it is to serve. To devote every fiber of my being to him. To abide by what he says cause in the end, I gain a lifetime of exploring his psyche, his desires, and his strength. “Or does that not sound promising enough?” he asked knowingly. “Yes,” I chuckled, “I am yours. I answer to you alone master. No matter the odds. I'm just taken aback by how I kept sniffing your sweaty rag a few days ago, to getting the privilege of you cumming in me all within a week!” “That’s a good boy,” he winked, “it is a privilege, but this is just the beginning.” He smacked my ass and nudged me towards the restroom. “Let’s get ya’ cleaned up.” The End

“It’s me, Mr. Johnson . . . James Knox.” “Who? My god! Little Jimmy Knox . . . my old paperboy?” “Yes sir . . . only, not so little anymore and I go by James now.” I stared at the incredible specimen of manhood standing before me. The lion tattoo on his arm was not missed. Neither were the veins snaking up his forearms and well-developed biceps. A muscled chest hung invitingly before him – nipples firm, circled with darker skin, and mouth-watering gorgeous. Abs that seemed chiseled by a jackhammer. And a haircut that screamed of military service or prison. With Jimmy Knox, it could have been either. “Um . . . you are so right, uh, James. You’ve changed a lot. What are you doing now?” “I’m a champion boxer, sir. And it’s all because of you. That’s why I wanted to stop by . . . to say thank you,” the young muscle stud said. “A boxer! Oh my, that’s impressive. Why on earth would you want to thank me?” “You made it happen, Mr. Johnson. It’s because of all that you said to me for those years I delivered your paper . . . that’s how I became a boxer.” “What on earth could I have said to make you do that? I’m so sorry I don’t remember,” I said, confused. “It’s fine, sir. You always told me I could do whatever I set my mind to. You encouraged me to follow my dreams. You didn’t give up on me when the rest of the neighborhood did. You were my friend, sir.” Jimmy Knox had been the young ruffian of our small community. He had gotten into all sorts of trouble, but I had recognized he was just a bored kid that needed an outlet for some repressed anger. His single mom had to work two jobs to make ends meet. She was almost never home. A nice enough woman, but way too young to be raising a rambunctious teenager. Jimmy had basically been on his own since he was nine. He wasn’t the kind of kid that did drugs or stole things – he had been more the ‘tease the cat’ and ‘bottles against the alley wall’ kind of kid. Misplaced energy was all it had been. I had recognized this right away and got him (and a friend of his) to do odd jobs around the neighborhood – just to keep them busy. I had also encouraged him to become our local paperboy. It had been a job he had taken quite seriously – delivering in rain storms, snow storms, and even ice storms. I could not think of a him missing one day . . . that is until his mom passed away, unexpectedly, when he was just seventeen. As he was being carted away by faceless workers from protective services, I had slipped him half of my life’s savings – telling him to use it for something good, some dream he had for himself. I had not seen him since that day, the government agency refusing to share any information with me since I was not family. “Aw Jimmy . . . I mean, James . . . you were always such a good kid. Of course, I was your friend,” I said, smiling at him. “You were more than a friend, Mr. Johnson. You were a mentor . . . you were my inspiration.” “Well, um, thank you. But whatever I was to you, James, you clearly had the determination and the will to achieve this,” I said, pointing to his shirtless body. “You did great things and I’m sure you will continue to do great things.” “You see, that’s just the thing, Mr. Johnson. That’s why I’m here. In the beginning and for about two years, now, I’ve won every match I ever participated in. I was the novice champion of the state and on my way to becoming a professional boxer. It’s just that, in the last month or so, I’ve lost a few bouts . . . and I’ve lost some of the spark that I had. It’s been tough for a while and I’ve been trying to figure out how to get back to the path I was on.” “Wow, I’m sorry to hear that, James. Have you come up with any ideas?” I asked. “Yes sir . . . that’s where you come in. I’m thinking, if I had you back as my mentor . . . as my inspiration I would start winning again,” he replied – his face as serious as can be. “What? I mean, James, I don’t know anything about boxing . . . I don’t think I could help you…” “No, no, no, Mr. Johnson. I have a coach and he’s great. Best one I could ever want. But he’s not the one that inspires me. He’s not the one that makes me want to win. That’s you. It’s always been you.” “I’m not sure what you mean, James,” I said, again confused. “You turn me on, Mr. Johnson.” “I’m sorry . . . what was that, Jimmy? I mean, James?” “You make me get stronger and bigger, Mr. Johnson. Ever since puberty – when my voice changed, my balls dropped low, and thick fur sprouted out around my privates – I’ve always dreamed about you. You were my fantasy man . . . you still are. I’ve just kind of forgotten about what you looked like, what you sounded like, and how you inspired me . . . that is, until I came here, today. Now, I can recall every detail about how you make me feel – how you make me want to be a better boxer . . . no, a better man. I need you back in my life, Mr. Johnson. I need you encouraging me. Every time I beat off, it’s to memories of you.” There isn’t a gay man on earth that hasn’t dreamed of this kind of situation – where a young, tremendously built, hot-as-hell guy tells you that he’s crazy about you and that you’re his wank material. But now that the dream was coming true, I didn’t quite believe it. I found myself doubting what this muscle mountain in front of me had just said . . . even thinking for a few minutes I was still taking my afternoon nap. James Knox had turned into something spectacular . . . model good looks, the kind of body that screamed power, and sultry eyes that looked like they could peer deep into your soul. “Jim . . . James, I . . . um . . . think maybe you’re just confused. I’m not sure you know what you’re saying…” “I know how I feel Mr. Johnson. I know it’s a shock, but maybe there’s a quicker way to convince you,” the big man said. The muscled wall moved toward me. Strong hands grabbed my upper arms and pulled me forward. I suddenly realized Jimmy was now slightly taller than me . . . something that was not true when I knew him before. He had been a wiry kid – scrawny, but with a tight body. Now he was neither wiry or scrawny. His mouth suctioned onto mine with a fierceness that was intoxicating. James Knox had clearly learned how to kiss, for the wave of ecstasy that shot through my body as his tongue ravaged my mouth was pure, insanely intense lust. Suddenly, my feet were a few inches off the floor as James and I moved into my entranceway, the stud using his foot to shut the door behind him. My soles returned to the floor as I was pushed up against the wall behind me . . . and something much harder than the wall pressed into me. Muscle turned me on . . . there was no denying that. And James had muscles for days. My hands came up to rest on his hard, veiny biceps as he continued to plunge his tongue down my throat. James was grunting like a wild man, beads of sweat forming all over his body, and something gloriously manly was now poking hard against his shorts. The young muscular god abruptly pulled his face away from mine and he stared into my eyes with an intensity that was almost frightening. “Mr. Johnson, you gotta let me fuck you. Please. It’s all I’ve ever dreamed of since I had my first orgasm at ten years old. I’ve tried to be with other men, but no one ever came close to making me feel the way you do. Come on man, please let me take you into the bedroom and show you how much you mean to me. I feel like I’ll explode if you don’t say yes.” “Take me, James. I’m all yours.” I had a funny feeling the smile that shot across his face was the first one that had been there for a long time. Suddenly, I was swept up by his mighty arms and he carried me like a bride down the hall. Turning sideways to go through the doorway into my bedroom, it was clear that my weight gave almost no resistance to the virile, powerful man. He stood me beside the bed and stared at me with a face full of love. I started to reach down and pull off my t-shirt, but James stopped me. “Let me do it, please. I’ve dreamed about this moment so many times, I want to make it perfect.” I dropped my hands. I was an independent guy and I had an online teaching company that employed a lot of people. I dated a few guys over the years, but nothing really ever panned out for the long haul. I was content with my life. I had never fantasized about having someone take care of me. I had never dreamed of having a young stud to do my bidding. All of this, however, changed instantly as James reached up and grabbed the front of my t-shirt with both of his hands – ripping it from my body in one fluid motion. I looked at this masculine muscled young man in a new way. “You are the most handsome man I have ever seen, Mr. Johnson. Tell me how I can please you.” “First of all, drop the Mr. Johnson.” “No sir. It turns me on to call you that.” I instantly understood. He needed me to stay in a certain role. I was so okay with that. Mainly because I was so okay with James. I looked at the young man and saw someone so eager to please me – so eager to win my approval – I instantly realized all that I represented to this guy. This now muscled dude who beat up other guys as a profession. He was magnificent. He was beyond this world. “James . . .what would please me is knowing what would please you,” I said, honestly. “Fucking you. That would please me, Mr. Johnson,” James said, without hesitation. “Then who am I to deny you that. It would please me very much, too . . . James,” I answered. I can only compare the look on James Knox’s face to the look you might see on a bull that’s just been let out of the confining chute into the ring at a rodeo. This young muscled bull was ready to charge at me and do whatever he wanted to. In the midst of the lustful rage, however, I saw a young man blanketed in total amazement that something he had wanted all of his life, even if it had only been a short time in gay years, was coming to pass. In one swift motion, the stud shoved his black cotton shorts and underwear to the ground – kicking off his shoes and socks at the same time. Jame Knox knew when he stood back up, lifting his chin upward a little and cocking his head to the side as his shoulders pushed back, that I would be amazed by what I saw. This was not a guy that was shy about what he had accomplished with his body. And it was magnificent. My mind wandered to my very large aluminum travel coffee mug in the kitchen as I gazed at his cock – sticking straight up against his tight abs. His piece of meat made the mug look small and narrow. I’m sure my face hid none of the surprise, excitement, and lust that shot through my body. His dick was as thick as a Sunday rolled up newspaper he used to toss to my door. It was very clear James was proud of his endowment, as well. “I hope my body pleases you, sir. I’ve worked hard to make it the kind of perfection you might like, Mr. Johnson,” James said, and there was no irony, no cockiness – he was as sincere as the day is long. “You know it does, James . . . don’t you?” I challenged him. “Yes sir,” he replied, “But that doesn’t mean I still wouldn’t want to hear it from you.” “My boy,” I said, stepping closer to him, “You are perfection. A Greek god. A person with the kind of body I have always wanted to be with. And the kind of cock I need inside me.” James wasn’t looking for compliments. I knew that. He just wanted to make sure his body pleased me. He knew he had a well-developed, chiseled, virile body, but he wanted me to be that mentor figure that told him how marvelous he looked. He wanted to make me proud. He also wanted to turn me on. My cock was raging hard in my pants and I knew James noticed. He, however, needed my words to mirror what my dick was saying. “I don’t ever remember being so hard, James. Please flex for me. Show me how big those muscles of yours really are,” I asked, knowing it would please him. It wasn’t a smooth professional bodybuilder pose. It was merely a young man with hard bulging muscles throwing his arms up to impress someone who was important to him. It was a raw, unprofessional, ape-like move that was so much hotter than a big man doing a posing routine. It was a move that was made to get juices flowing, not to get points from judges. Everything on his body tightened and bulged, his arms looking harder than any arms I’d ever seen in person. James was grinding his teeth to create more pressure in his body. His eyes never stopped looking at me. He wanted to memorize the awe and the pleasure that shot through my face. My hands moved up to his bulging biceps and grabbed hold of them. I gasped at their hardness and their size. “Well done, James. Well done,” I said, groping his peaks and moving my gaze back and forth between them. This was clearly too much for the young man. My compliment and my lustful gaze. He dropped his arms and reached out to grab me around my waist. It was an unplanned move – merely a reaction from being overwhelmed with desire. My breath was slightly knocked out of me by the intense squeeze that followed the initial hit of his body against mine. Again, I was immediately lifted off the floor and quickly carried to the bed. We fell onto the mattress together, James’ hard muscles on top of me. As his body pressed me into the surface I felt like a sheet of paper kept on a desk by a huge muscled paperweight. There was nothing unpleasant about the feeling and James ground his crotch expertly against mine, cranking up my excitement level with each thrust. He had the hardest cock I had ever felt. It felt like a thick cylinder of solid metal rubbing against me. “Fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long, Mr. Johnson. I grew big just for you. I got strong just for you. Every time I lifted weights, or cranked out a hundred sit-ups, or delivered what I knew would be a knockout punch, I thought of you . . . and only you. I thought about making you proud. I dreamed about making you cum . . . just because of my muscles and my strength. That’s all I ever wanted . . . was to please you completely, sir. You’re what I live for,” James said, clearly having gone into some lustful realm where all he did was grind against my smaller body and say whatever popped in his head. “For god’s sake, James. Shut up, please. I can’t take anymore. Fuck me, already!” I begged. All motion stopped. It felt like I had been on a speeding train that abruptly entered the station. The chiseled, sweaty face of the beautiful man James Knox had become grinned down at me . . . in a way that made my asshole tense up, big time. The young stud was about to get what he had been dreaming of for so very long . . . and all hell was about to break lose. He pushed up onto his knees, straddling my body, grabbed my pants and ripped them off my body as easily as he had done my shirt. Then came the underwear with a one handed tug. James took a second to look my body over like he was a millionaire about to buy a racehorse. It made me feel like a piece of meat and that turned me on. He then grabbed both of my calves and put my legs over his wide shoulders. I could tell he was impressed. “Fuck yeah, Mr. Johnson, I knew you’d be limber,” he growled, looking down at me. “Yeah? Well, I didn’t know you’d be so strong, James,” I replied, smiling. “You haven’t seen anything yet, sir,” he shot back. The muscled man wrapped his big hands around my thighs and powerfully jerked by entire body down the bed until my ass slammed into his powerful crotch. Immediately, his hard, thick cock was steamrolling back and forth across my ass cheeks, slamming down in between them with enough force to make my molars clap together. I knew, just from how hard his cock felt below, that my hole was defenseless against him. The penetration was going to be beastlike, and I knew it. James was still looking down at my body, drinking it all in, even as he continue to slam against by ass and pulled on my thighs with his big hands. “Your cock is so fucking gorgeous, Mr. Johnson. And I love how hard it is. Look how it’s leaking pre-cum in anticipation,” James said, smiling at me – even as he continued to grind away. “I’m going to make it explode for you, sir. Hard. Ready for me to fill that manly ass of yours with some of my juice, sir?” “Oh god, yes!” was all I could reply. Never in my wildest dreams would I had ever thought that little Jimmy Knox would grow up into a perfectly sculpted muscleman who would bring me to the point of begging him to plow me . . . but that’s exactly where we were. This was not my paperboy . . . not even close. This was a huge bulging boxer with many championships to his name. James, pushed the head of his hard-as-hell thick dick against my hole. He looked at me with sweat dripping off of every part of his body, a smile on his face, and a look of deep love in his eyes. And that is when he pushed . . . ever so gently . . . but with the force of his incredibly formed abdominals . . . and the world stopped. I expected great pain, but there was none. This young beast pushed into me slowly, with the expertise of a mature lover. His head popped beyond the entrance of my hole and all I felt was total bliss. “Fuck, that’s nice, Mr. Johnson. So very nice,” James cooed softly as his cock continued to plunge slowly into me. “Are you okay, sir?” “I am marvelous,” I whispered back to the big man. “You certainly are,” James responded, and then about a minute later added, “I knew you’d be able to take all of me.” If there was anything in the world better than being filled up to the thick pubes of a young muscled stud, I could not think of what it would be. I was amazed at the ease with which I was able to take all of James’ substantial cock . . . and I believed it said just as much about his fucking skills as it did my abilities to open my ass. James’ entire body was covered in a light sheen of sex and he was pushing his crotch up against my ass as if he might be able to go deeper. “Hold on to my arms, Mr. Johnson. I think you’ll like it. I’m going to start fucking you harder,” James suggested. “I think I’m going to like that, too,” I replied – making the big guy smile. Grabbing his arms was like trying to wrap my hands around the trunk of a thick, knotty pine tree. I let out a loud moan as I felt the hardness of his biceps and realized my small hands were not getting around those things or even close. He smiled at the fact that I got a sexual jolt from feeling his arms and he tensed them harder just to tease me more. I latched on to them as best I could and pulled hard, so I stayed in place as he pulled his equally big, equally hard cock out of me. Before there was a pop from the head escaping my ass, James pushed back in – this time a little faster and much more like the beast that he was. He let out a moan as I watched a bead of sweat drip down the valley between his pecs and then zig-zag down the pronounced bulges of his abs. It seemed to take longer for his pubes to smack against my cheeks this time, as if his dong was still growing. I pulled harder on his arms and he let out a slightly evil chuckle, mocking me for thinking I could budge the things. My sturdy bed was not prepared for the likes of James’ body, so it squeaked loudly as he increased the speed – in and out of my ass, in and out, in and out. James brought his face down and kissed me hard as he thrust his cock into me. Grunts and moans were thrown about by both of us and we sounded like a pornographic chorus warming up. I suddenly realized that James was so fit he could probably keep the fucking going all night long. He had gotten into a gentle, but powerful rhythm that jerked my body back and forth like I was just some rag doll attached to his dick. “I’m not going to last long, Mr. Johnson. You’re just too much for me. The reality of fucking you is way beyond my fantasies. I’m sorry I can’t hold out longer. I want it to be perfect for you. You’re just too fucking hot,” the sweating, grunting behemoth said. “Go for it, James. ‘mI hoping this won’t be the last time,” I said back to him, knowing fully how my words would affect him. “Hell no, this is just the beginning, Mr. Johnson,” he spat back between deep breaths as he increased the pace of his thrusting. Suddenly, I realized I had let the past go. No longer was there a little Jimmy Knox, my paperboy. He was only a forgotten memory. Now, there was only huge, muscled, powerful, boxer James . . . and he was magnificent. My ass had never felt so loved and used. I realized I was frantically groping his tensed, vein-covered arms, as if my life depended on it. Meanwhile, James was pummeling me like I was just a speed bag in the gym and his cock was his fists punching away. I was using every trick in my mind and body to not spew from the pleasure he was giving me. As my ass got filled more and more with his powerful thrusts, I knew . . . as sure as I knew anything . . . that James would be moving into my house. I’d become more than just his mentor . . . I’d become his fuck-daddy. I was going to help him become the champion he could be, again. I was going to give him anything he wanted. His arms felt like iron and that was enough for me. I’d grow this young man to more of a stud than he already was. My sole mission in life, now, was James Knox. The thought of having a muscle boy around me all the time proved to be too much for me. I squeezed my chute tight as I began to spew and that made James’ cock explode at the same time. My hot cum squirted all over his glorious chest as his thick juice filled my hole. It was the kind of mutual orgasm everyone longed for . . . everyone lived for. Even in the midst of having an orgasm that made my eyes roll to the back of my head, I could tell James was experiencing the same feelings. Suddenly, we both were fully empty and he was crushing my body into the mattress again – his arms having given out. It took a while for our breathing to work its way back to something normal. ‘I brought everything I own in my car, sir,” he whispered in my ear. “I sold a lot hoping like hell this would be the outcome of today. I have a lot of money . . . there’s no need to worry about that. I just want you to make me a winner again.” “I’m going to make you the best in the world, James. There’s no need to worry about that. You need inspiration . . . I think my ass can be the only inspiration you’ll ever need,” I said, as he squeezed me tightly and I could feel him shaking as he silently cried. “I’m proud of you, big man. You are a gorgeous person . . . inside and out. I would be honored to have you here with me. You will want for nothing.” “No sir, you will want for nothing,” he said, pulling his face from the mattress and looking at me, tears still streaming down his cheeks. “We will want for nothing, James. How about that?” I replied, hugging him tightly. “Well I think I’m going to be wanting your body from here on out, young man, so there is that.” “It’s kind of hard to want what’s already yours, sir,” he replied.

Have been working on this for a while. Enjoy! Chapter 1 “Thank you for a wonderful last day class, congratulations! I’ll see you at graduation.” My AP Calc 2 professor Stevenson exclaimed to me and my class s the bell rang. I walked out the door, a big smile on my face. High school was finally over, after four long years. I could finally go to Stanford and escape this boring, small town. I was going to move to California and get into the program for Computer Science and get an awesome degree. My name is Dan Blackwood by the way. I’m 18 and I live outside of Chicago with my parents Lisa and Gary. My older brother Joey lives in Chicago and is a college football player. We’re all really proud of him. I was always the nerdy brother, and at 5’3, the runt of the family. My mom is 5’3”, and my dad is 5’8”. Joey is 6’2 and a star quarterback. My parents always supported him, but I could tell they were worried about me. They never pressured me to change who I was though, which I was grateful for. I was happy. I was always a nerd. I was never that interested in sports, I was into computers. I was pretty much ready to leave for college, all I needed to do was pack the rest of my stuff and then get the rest shipped. I was so excited to start a new life. I came out of the closet when I was 14, and although my parents and brother were completely fine with it, I always felt a little different. My height hindered my dating life and it was something i was hoping would change with the move. Tonight I was forcing my friends to go to a college volleyball game to see a crush of mine. - “Dan why are we going to a college volleyball game?” Ryan asked me as he drove us to the arena. Ryan and I have been friends since 3rd grade. In middle school, he shot up in height to his current height of 6’5”. We always looked silly, him being a head taller than me. He had curly blond hair and the most angelic face. Obviously i was in love with him for a long time, but he’s straight. He has a girlfriend named Rachel who he met last year. He’s now like a second brother. Rachel chimed in, "Yeah what gives? Not that I don't love seeing hot guys in tiny shorts haha." I blushed, "Well there's a guy on the team who's really hot and I want to support him." Ryan and Rachel shared a look and laughed. "Ooooh you have a crush!" Rachel said excitedly. I blushed again. "Yeah, I guess you could say that." We parked the car and headed into the stadium. It was packed. We found our seats and settled in. The game started. Noah was playing well. I couldn't take my eyes off him. Noah Martinez was 6 foot 8. He was ripped. His muscles were bulging. My cock got hard. I could feel my balls throbbing. I was so horny. I loved it. I watched as Noah ran up and down the court. He jumped high and spiked the ball over the net. I couldn't stop staring at him. My cock was rock hard. I looked over at Ryan and Rachel. They were both smiling. I blushed again. The team won. As we walked out we walked by Noah. I only came up to his muscular chest. He didn’t see me but it was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Ryan and Rachel were still laughing at me. I blushed. "Shut up," I said. We drove home. As Ryan dropped me off, he mentioned they might go to a party tonight and invited me to join. “I’ll let you guys know!” - It was 11pm and my parents had gone to bed, I had been playing video games on the PS5. I turned the PS5 off and was about to go upstairs when I heard my phone buzz. It was a text from Ryan. Ryan: You should come to the party with us. Dan: I would, but it's kind of late. Ryan: It's now summer and we're having fun. Dan: I'll think about it. Ryan: Dude, come on. Dan: Alright, alright. I got my car keys and left the house, and headed for Ryan's house. The drive is not far, but there are some dangerous intersections that I hate driving through. It was a warm summer night and the stars were shining brightly. I put on the radio and rolled down the window. I was about to turn a corner when a car ran a red light and hit the driver's side of my car. My body flew forward and hit the steering wheel hard. My car launched in the air, flipping for what felt like minutes. Then everything went black. - When I woke up, I was in the hospital. My mom and dad were at the foot of my bed. They looked at me with relieved expressions. I blinked and looked around, my eyes were adjusting to the light. My dad started to speak. "Oh thank god you're okay. We thought we lost you." My mom chimed in. "Your arm is broken, and your head suffered some serious trauma. We're glad you're alive." I smiled weakly at them. "Yeah, me too." My parents left the room so the doctor could examine me. He showed me the X-ray of my broken arm. The doctor said I was lucky to be alive. After the doctor left, I sat up in bed. I was trying to process what had just happened. I didn't remember the car accident, or the ride to the hospital. My mom came back in the room. "How are you feeling, honey?" “A little rough, but I’m alive so I’m thankful.” I was allowed to leave the hospital after a day because my wounds weren’t as bad as the doctors thought. My mom and dad took me home, where Joey was waiting for us. Joey looked concerned. "Dan, how are you?" "I'm fine. The doctors said I have a concussion and my arm is broken." - I went to sleep in my bed. Graduation was in a week and I hoped my broken arm wasn’t going to look dumb. I was dreaming that I was in a field and there were butterflies flying all around me. I felt my body growing. I looked down at my hands and they were bigger. I looked down at my arms and they were bulging with muscle. My chest was getting wider. My legs were growing too. My clothes started to rip and tear. My jeans were stretching to their limit. I felt my feet pushing through the ends of my shoes. I was growing. And then I woke up. I jumped out of bed, my heart pounding. What was that? Was that a dream or a nightmare? I was scared. Also my broken arm didn’t hurt anymore. Weird. Regardless, my cock had woken up and I needed to take care of it. Although my small stature, I was thankful for the gift of a fairly big cock. At 5’3, I was packing a solid 7 inch cock. I reached down and grabbed it, and began stroking myself slowly. I closed my eyes and thought about the dream, about my body growing. I thought about being able to look down at people, and tower over them. I pictured myself towering over Noah Martinez and making him take my cock. I imagined his mouth wrapped around my cock, his eyes looking up at me. I pumped my hand faster, and I could feel my orgasm building. I closed my eyes and let out a low groan as I came all over my chest. I felt the cum on my chest and stomach. Then I heard a ripping sound. My eyes snapped open. My jeans had ripped at the seams. My boxers were shredded. My shirt was torn to pieces. My cast had been ripped off of my arm. My heart was pounding. I was naked. I couldn't believe what was happening. I was growing. I ran over to my full length mirror and looked at myself. I was getting taller, and bigger. My legs were getting longer, and my feet were growing. My arms were bulging with muscles. My chest was expanding.My ass was growing too. My skin was stretching to accommodate my growing body. My cock was growing too. I couldn't believe how huge it was. i took a step forward and fainted. - I opened my eyes to my big brother look down at me. I was laying on the floor. "Dan? Are you okay?" He asked. "What happened? Why am I naked?" "I don't know. Your clothes were ripped to shreds." I got up and walked over to the mirror. Joey was still taller than me, but not by much. I looked at my body in the mirror. My arms were huge, my chest was broad, and my ass was round. My cock was long and thick. I felt the power in my body. “I’m gonna grab you some clothes” Joey said, and he walked out of the room. I went downstairs to the kitchen and got a drink of water. I was still in shock. What had just happened? Why did my body change?

Chapter 1: Uncut? I like my men uncut. Both ways. Muscle and cock. Muscle: Heavy, off-season big. Cock: Natural, and full-grown. Finding just one? Hard. Hard enough. Both, on the same man? That’s a whole unicorn. Don’t let anybody tell you not to dream big. It was one of those crisp October mornings, the kind that makes you glad for a warm drink and the chance to eye a few rugged men across the way. They were hauling crates and setting up their booths. Micha sat at his table, stocked with tinctures and mushroom blends, all neatly labeled and set out for the kind of crowd that appreciates the finer things. But the name of his seasonal mix did tend to raise a few eyebrows. “Cocktober Uncut,” the label read, big and bold. Micha was aware of every raised eyebrow, every murmured what exactly is in this as people wandered past his booth, trying to act casual. His personal best seller—a blend meant to “enhance vigor,” or so he claimed with a wink—was a surprising hit. And while most customers just blushed or ignored the power-packed bottle, a few brave souls, usually the type with beards and flannel, would ask, “Does it work?” How to sell it? Give them a slow smile and a shrug that says, Oh, you’ll find out. Across the way, a man Micha'd been eyeing all morning—tall, broad, wrapped in a thick worn Carhartt jacket—emerged from his produce truck. He was pulling a few crates stacked high with big pumpkins and unusually large acorn squash. Micha ran his hand through his hair, watching for veins on those big hands across the way. When everything else is so covered, veins are the dead giveaway. Is it muscle, or is it fat? The guy reached up to unload a crate piled with pumpkins. Micha zeroed in like he's sighting down the barrel of a high-powered rifle, every muscle in his body going still. He squinted, lips pressed into a line of deadly focus. Deep breath in, eyes sharpening, tracking every inch of forearm. Sunlight glinted off the muscle, but—damn it—nothing rising. Nothing moving. Today’s vein report: low visibility. The bulk under that flannel could be regular fat. Or it might be no regular farm muscle, so strong, so big, lifting a heavy crate of pumpkins didn't make this man twitch. What are you hiding under all that soft flannel and heavy canvass? Anything big and round enough for me to lick? The earthy scent of his spiced blend mushroom mocha topped with sweet cream…this aroma always takes Micha back, every fall. He’d had one uncut man in his bed before—a rare man, like a unicorn—and damn if it hadn’t been everything Micha thought it would be. The man's warm skin, his soft glide, the way it felt watching the man lose himself. The man didn’t hold back—didn’t have to. Natural, pure pleasure. Just remembering, Micha’s gut schlicked, pulling at him, sparking his heat, like he’s flicking his thumb on his steel zippo lighter, the one with the custom-etched rose and single jutting shroom shooting towards the stars. Then, of course, there was the slap of reality afterward. Since God blessed America, all the boys have been cut. Micha spiraled his thumb over the soft rubbery round black dropper top of his Cocktober Uncut. All I wanted? Was the choice. As a man. A waft of earth and his favorite woodsy mushrooms floated up from his table, pulling him back. He adjusted the label on the “Cocktober Uncut” blend, glancing back to farmer in flannel across the way. He couldn't quite tell, but he let himself wonder. This might be my chance. Sure, Micha was trying to rein it in, pretending to focus on arranging his tinctures and mushroom powders. But his mind kept catching on the broad-shouldered figure covering up every damn thing in the sun with a Carhartt too big for even his bulk. Ridiculous how easy it was to imagine what could be under there. Could be uncut muscle, he thought, eyeing the guy’s hefty frame with a hint of a smirk. Born and blessed with a hot tongue, Micha knew he could get a man for himself. But for some reason, this guy had him rethinking his strategy, got his heart thudding at the thought of actually finding a big man who might just tick all his boxes. Two, to be exact. Two in one. Uncut cock, and heavy uncut offseason muscle. And damn it, the mystery was getting to him. His grin softened. Keep the jacket on, big guy, he thought, to calm himself down. It’s more fun to imagine. Uncut muscle, he mused, letting himself get lost in the idea. Maybe. Just maybe. The man could be a solid slab of potential. Broad shoulders, probably hefting those crates like they’re paperweights, thick biceps that might be making that flannel groan …all wrapped in a jacket so thick? He’s got to be hiding something underneath. Either something so underwhelming he dresses it down, or something impressive enough to keep it quiet. Sure, maybe the double uncut dream was as rare as a unicorn. Micha knows, he was gonna have to find a man not made in America. But don’t let anybody tell you not to dream big. The big guy reached for one of his own wine bottles, the deep green glass catching the light in his hand as he turned to a young couple standing with him. The couple looked fresh out of college, with the feathery but pressed-clean hippie look Micha knew well. Berkeley. She was holding her guy’s arm. He was tangling their fingers together behind their asses. They listened to the man’s low and rolling voice. Probably explaining something about the grapes. Or maybe the way he processes the soil. Micha couldn't hear the words. Didn't matter. The words don't matter. The depth and roll does. He narrowed his eyes, focusing in. Come on, roll that shoulder, big guy. Give me something. Micha let his fingers linger on the neck of his own tiny amber bottle. The guy’s hand wrapped around a gleaming green antique glass—his big, sturdy fingers, his broad palm, covering it with ease. Mmhm. Big boned. He’s got that, for sure. The way the guy moved, handling the bottles like they were empty instead of corked and full to the brim, the slow flex of his grip… enough to make Micha imagine: Biceps big enough to make lifting heavy weight look easy, pecs straining under all that flannel. Hell, there could be more power and size packed into those arms than he’d ever seen up close. Could be hiding a lot of mass under that damn canvass jacket. And damn if I'm not going to find out.

I felt the pressure of his muscled legs lessen, like a giant vice-grip had been untightened. His muscled chest pulled away from my back as his big body slid off the stool. We had been so comfortable, so locked together. It had been like being covered in a muscled blanket near a roaring fire. My lower backside missed the impression of his hard cock as it was smashed between us. I had felt his body stiffen seconds before he began to move. I knew it was coming. I had been insulted and he was having none of that. He rarely got in alpha protector mood, but when he did there was no stopping him. It turned me on very much. “Don’t…” I began, but quickly let my words trail away when he held two fingers up in the air, signaling me in what was a pure alpha gesture to not even start to protest. My cock immediately strained against my jeans even more when I saw his muscled arm tense as he walked around the corner of the bar to where my aggressor was standing. Daddy Darren, the name he insisted I call him, stood about six-foot five and a half inches barefoot and seemed to be that same distance if measured from shoulder to shoulder. He made me feel as small as a kid in junior high school, even though I was bigger than most normal men. Daddy Darren had traps that bulged from his neck like they were cement walls , shoulders that were so muscled they looked like huge striated pumpkins, a chest so massive that it seemed to enter the room ten minutes before he did, and the kind of arms men either spent their lives trying to achieve or conjured visions of in their head to beat off to. Enormous, jacked, monstrous, or whatever other word you would want to describe the kind of muscle daddy wet-dreams are made of is exactly what Daddy Darren was. I watched as he moved into the personal space of a man that was really well built, but still just a fraction of the size of my man. “I’m pretty sure I heard you correctly when you talked about my boyfriend, little fella, but I wanted to give you the chance to clarify and see if I was wrong,” Daddy Darren said, looking ominously down at the man in front of him. “So, convince me.” Daddy Darren was the kind of guy that never forgot to bring me flowers and candy on every special occasion. He was also the guy that would spend what seemed like hours sucking my balls or scrubbing the inside of my thighs with his goatee just to hear the loud moans he could elicit from me. But he was also the guy that could make someone on the street move to the other side just from giving them an alpha stare. And he was the guy that could make someone who was wasting time looking at their phone scramble quickly away from a machine at the gym just by giving a slight grunt. And, most importantly, he was the guy that knew his body could intimidate anyone just from a slight flex or even a casual tensing of some specific muscle. This is exactly what he was doing right now with the jerk in front of him . . . but it was clear Mr. Jerk was pretty intoxicated, so he noticed nothing – not even the fact that he had to look up to talk to Daddy Darren. “I said how the hell did that little fairy end up with a stud like you,” said Mr. Jerk, slurring his words a little. Let me make something perfectly clear at this moment . . . I love muscle and, more importantly, I love what true muscle can do. So, in a way, I am turned on by strength. Daddy Darren has been giving me soft kisses before I fall asleep and hard, beastlike poundings leading up to those kisses for over seven years, now. I’m a Daddy Darren believer . . . worshipper . . . and, luckily, the benefactor of all his attention and love. I feel like I know him better than anyone else in the world. I know when he needs coffee . . . or food . . . or sex. I can tell his mood as soon as he wakes up. My tongue has been pressed into every inch of his miraculous body by his big hand tugging me into him from behind my head. Daddy Darren worships me, too . . . not for my muscles like I do him . . . but for my body, just the same, especially my ass. Being a proud bottom for Daddy Darren has never been a problem or a chore. He makes every day perfect. But, just as importantly, I complete him. His words, not mine. He says that I make him whole. He says he has never felt as intense a love as he feels for me. At the height of mutual orgasms – caused by his powerful pounding – I fully realize how perfect our union is. I could not imagine a world without Daddy Darren and I know he feels the same way about me. So, did I get a little turned on that Mr. Jerk was making the alpha in Daddy Darren come out even more by his comments. You bet your sweet ass I did. I took a sip of beer as I turned to watch the annihilation that was about to happen. I was Daddy Darren’s most prized possession in the world. I was his prince, his love, his sun and moon. Mr. Jerk had gone too far and I had to admit it made me happy. “Oh little man, how stupid you are,” Daddy Darren said, as he reached up with his humongous palm to pat the cheek of the guy in front of him. “I am so very lucky to have that handsome man, over there. He is perfection and I don’t deserve him. You got one thing right, though, little man . . . I am a stud. I am much more of a stud than you will ever be. And, as a matter of fact, that beautiful boy sitting over there is more of a stud than you will ever be, too. You’ve chosen the wrong man to insult. His massive, ‘fairy’ lover is going to make that perfectly clear. So, let the fun begin, puny punk.” Daddy Darren is a softy. He’s brought more stray kittens home than I can count, but – luckily – I am highly allergic and he finally stopped doing it when I had to get an inhaler. He cries at stupid rom-coms. And he even thanks me profusely when I give him a blowjob, as if it’s some kind of chore for me. But he is also a man that lifts so much weight at the gym that men have actually cum in their pants while watching him. I saw him lift the back of a van once because the elderly driver couldn’t get out of the tight space. And he wrestles three guys at the same time and never loses. It’s only moments like right now that I see super alpha Daddy Darren. He’s not one to belittle anyone, unless it is called for. I don’t mean to brag, but hurting me in any way brought alpha Daddy Darren out more than anything. To be perfectly honest, I hadn’t even heard Mr. Jerk talking about me. I probably had been too focused on caressing Daddy Darren’s massive arms . . . but my man doesn’t miss a thing. I’d been called way worse than ‘fairy’ so many times in my life, that I really didn’t care. But Daddy Darren did and that made my cock rock hard and my heart swell with pride. “Fuck you, roidster!” Mr. Jerk said. I actually winced and gasped out loud. Second major offense to Daddy Darren to me being insulted was him being called fake muscle or drug-enhanced muscle. Watching him train was like muscle porn for me. He grunted, sweated, and got fucking hard from his intense workouts in a way that I had never seen before. There was nothing impure about Daddy Darren and saying there was made him almost as angry as saying negative things about me. Daddy Darren easily curled with one hand more weight than I could bench. When we worked out together – something he constantly begged me to do because it exited him to see me lift – it always took about five minutes to add the needed weights to the bar when it was his turn. I might as well have tried to lift a house compared to the weight he tossed around. The smile on Daddy Darren’s face turned slightly evil at Mr. Jerk’s words . . . and that caused pre-cum to bubble out of my cock. “You pathetic worm of a man,” Daddy Darren said, “You wish you could be fucked by me . . . but I belong to only one man and that’s the dude you’ll be apologizing to in less than five minutes. And that’s my lover, right over there.” The sexual tension had now built up so much in me that, if we had been at home, Daddy Darren could have pressed a finger against my asshole and I would have spewed like a freshly tapped oil well. Daddy Darren loved to publicly profess his love for me. At a family reunion for his clan – with over two hundred relatives of Daddy Darren in attendance – he had drunkenly taken the microphone at some point in the night, pointed at me, and screamed loudly, “I want everyone here to know I love that man over there. I love him so much that I can’t see straight. And I would take on all of you here – family or not – if it meant I had to prove my love for him.” It has been the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me. The only thing that made it more awesome was how his relatives sprang to their feet and cheered. I’m pretty sure their reaction was more about pleasing their massively muscled relative than welcoming me – but it still felt awesome. It felt even more awesome when over twenty people told me that if I broke Daddy Darren’s heart they would hunt me down and kill me. A few of the guys who said it actually looked like they had killed many men before, so I really took it as a compliment. By the way, that night Daddy Darren banged me harder than I could ever remember and that made the night even more special. So, the bottom line was that I was so jacked for orgasm by this point you could have made me spew with a feather. But what happened next was even more exciting than I could have imagined. Drunk Mr. Jerk clearly had had enough. It was also obvious that he was going to be wild and reckless, which could only mean things would get a lot more fun. He threw a punch out of nowhere. I didn’t even see it coming. I did however hear his knuckles hit the open palm of Daddy Darren’s hand which had come out of thin air to halt any movement in mid-swing. The shocked look on Mr. Jerk’s face made my cock throb hard. The poor guy had no idea what he was dealing with. Daddy Darren was like a fucking muscle machine. The huge man’s fingers clamped around the smaller fist in his hand and squeezed. I immediately heard a sound that I hoped was just knuckles being popped, but I seriously doubted it. And the scream of pain that came out of the drunk guy’s mouth confirmed it wasn’t just a mild adjustment of bones. Daddy Darren released the hand as quickly as he had caught it. Mr. Jerk immediately started shaking out the obvious pain he was feeling. I saw fingers moving, so I figured nothing was shattered. I could feel that my cock was a little disappointed. “You fucking son-of-a-bitch!” roared Mr. Jerk. “I wouldn’t if I were you,” Daddy Darren said calmly, his hands having moved to his hips setting him in a very casual ‘come what may’ pose. I’d seen my man standing that way once when a metal chair had been slammed into his back. His body had moved a little forward with the impact, but his feet had stayed planted. He had turned to his shocked attacker and then easily punched through the metal seat of the chair to connect his fist with the face of the guy. There had been a few moments of silence and no movement, but then the attacker had just crumpled to the floor – an unconscious blob. The chair still hung on the forearm of Daddy Darren until he shook it off. I knew this was my man’s ‘come give me all you got’ pose and it usually meant someone was going to be hitting the floor and I knew it wasn’t going to be Daddy Darren. Sure enough, Mr. Jerk figured he still had one good hand so he sent it sailing into my boyfriend’s stomach. Even before I heard the impact, my cock coughed out a little pre-cum from the anticipation. Daddy Darren was super proud of his eight pack – especially having it at his age. He worked hard to keep his abs as compact and hard as thick corrugated steel, so I knew he loved any chance he got to prove to some sucker that his tight stomach could take a punch. There was a little indention of muscle as the man’s fist collided with solid abs, but very slight, and Daddy Darren’s face showed no sign of discomfort. He cocked his head to the side and had a look of disbelief as he gazed at Mr. Jerk, who was utterly surprised again by the fact that his punch seemed to do nothing to the man in front of him. “I warned you not to do it, dickhead, but you didn’t want to listen. So, now, I’m going to have to be mean. And I hate being mean . . . but you’ve been rude to the love of my life and now a wrong needs to be corrected,” Daddy Darren said, again very calmly, as both men looked at the fist still pressed up against the chiseled stomach. Daddy Darren says grip strength is important when you’re building your body. He makes me practice by seeing how long I can hang from a chin-up bar in our basement gym. It’s impressive that I can last more than a couple of minutes . . . until Daddy Darren hangs by one arm for longer than five. He sometimes takes out his phone and checks messages while he hangs there, even doing a few pull-ups to show off. He loves to do pull ups when I hang on to his body, but I always end up spewing before he gets beyond six reps and become too worn out to hang on. I get only a glimpse of the strength in his grip when he jerks me off, clamping down on my cock as if his hand was made of iron. Again, I can barely last beyond seven or eight powerful tugs before I’m chugging out hot cum like a pornographic volcano. I watch in awe when Daddy Darren yanks out a full-throttle orgasm from his own enormous cock, because I know the strength he’s using on his own cock would demolish mine. At least my own grip strength has gotten good enough to actually get my man off when my mouth and ass need to take a break – or when we’re someplace where a hand-job is the only thing we can do because it’s more easily hidden than full-on sex. Needless to say, when I saw Daddy Darren’s powerful hand shoot out and latch onto Mr. Jerk’s substantial shoulder, I fully knew the kind of pain that grip could give. “What a little chickenshit you are, asshole,” Daddy Darren said, applying enough pressure to make the guy gasp through gritted teeth and dip his shoulder down. “I gave you numerous opportunities to apologize to my lovely boyfriend, but you just refused to admit to being a jerk and do the right thing. You think you’re tough shit just because you’ve got a few wannabe muscles . . . but the truth is you’re just a bully and stupid as fuck. Did you not notice that I’m taller, wider, thicker, and much more muscular than you? I don’t need to be big to show off, dweeb. I’m huge because I like it, but more importantly because my boyfriend likes it. I know his pecker is stiffer than metal as he watches me manhandle you. Isn’t that right, honey?” “I’m harder than hell, Daddy Darren,” I reply proudly. “But I don’t take you on to please him . . . cause, you see, I can do that just by flexing or picking him up, or wrestling him with only one arm . . . no, I take you on because you didn’t respect the thing I love most in the world. That beautiful young thing over there,” Daddy Darren said, literally jerking Mr. Jerk by the shoulder to the side so he could see me. “So, dickless, remember that as we move forward.” The grip that easily opened jars that I had been trying to open for thirty minutes and easily snapped branches for firewood when we went camping tightened on Mr. Jerk’s shoulder and the pain caused the man’s legs to cave in and he sunk to his knees. Daddy Darren then basically dragged the guy by the shoulder until he was kneeling beside me. My man motioned to me with his chin for me to stand up. I stood and now Mr. Jerk knelt in front of me, his face red from the pain he felt in his shoulder. Daddy Darren pulled the man’s torso back a little so he was looking up at me. I was impressed there was still a determined look on Mr. Jerk’s face, even though he was in a lot of pain. “Now, I’m asking again as nicely as possible. Tell my babe you’re sorry and then tell him you’re the fairy,” Daddy Darren ordered. “Fucking no way,” Mr. Jerk spat out and then immediately cried out because the pressure on his shoulder increased – clearly to the point where it was unbearable. “Okay! Okay! Okay! I’m sorry. I ‘m sorry. I’m so, so sorry . . . and I’m the fairy. I’m the fairy.” I watched as Daddy Darren’s forearm relaxed a little and some of the veins disappeared. He wasn’t applying as much pressure now and I saw relief in Mr. Jerk’s face. I knew things were not over, however . . . because, if they were, Daddy Darren would have released the guy’s shoulder. My big man had something else planned. In the same alpha move as he had done earlier, he raised two fingers in the air and twirled them in a circle, signaling for me to turn around. My cock twitched at how he could get me to do things so easily. And the super confident way he’d do it. He knew it turned me on – that’s why he did it. His intention was not to be demeaning. I turned around, quickly figuring out what was coming next. Daddy Darren leaned his body down so he was even with Mr. Jerk’s face, which was not as red as it had been before. “Take a long look at my boy’s ass, shit-for-brains. That fucking thing is my kryptonite. It’s the only thing in the world that makes me go weak in the knees, besides my boyfriend’s beautiful face. When he lets me play with that ass I am the luckiest man on the planet. When he lets me fuck it, I am Superman. I would do anything in the world for that ass. Remember that, punk. Let it seep into that dim brain of yours like the way you etch into your brain an ATM pin. Know that this is the closest you will ever be to this ass again . . . because if I ever catch you even in the same building as my beautiful lover I will wad you up like a piece of tinfoil and slam dunk you into the nearest trashcan. I’m thinking by now, even as thick-headed as you are, you are well aware that I can back up my threat. Don’t make me hurt you worse than I did, today,” Daddy Darren said, calmy and forcefully at the same time and then he finally added what I knew was coming. “Last thing, little insect. Kiss the ass in front of you.” Early on in our relationship, when I had only been on a few dates with Daddy Darren and had only slept with him a couple of times, I had made a terrible mistake. We had met at the bar where he was the bouncer. When I got to the door with my friends, he took an extra-long look at my license, making it very clear he was memorizing all of my information. When he handed it back he smiled, called me by name, and said he hoped he’d be seeing a lot of me. My friends and I had been dancing inside the club for about twenty minutes when I finally excused myself to get some fresh air, because I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the thickly muscled stud outside in a blank tank-top and worn-out jeans. When I stepped outside on what was, thankfully, a slow night at the bar, he had looked at me from the big stool he was sitting on and said, “It took you long enough.” To say I was a player was an understatement. I knew how to handle men . . . even confident huge men. “Well, I have so many men to choose from,” I replied. The guy didn’t smile, he just looked at me for a few seconds and then said, “I bet you do, but none of them will come close to treating you the way I will.” He then slid of the stool, grabbed me by the waist, and set me on top of the tall thing, which had clearly been made for his immense body. My feet dangled in the air. He put his hand on the wall above my head and leaned in to give me a kiss that could only be described by saying it set off a thousand internal fireworks within me. After his tongue had basically explored every centimeter of my mouth and throat, he pulled his head back and looked down at me with the most sincere eyes I’d ever seen . . . even to this day. He whispered, “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” To say I was won over at that moment would not be strong enough words. Anyway, the mistake came weeks later, after I had been asked to call him Daddy Darren, received two dozen roses, and had been treated to the hardest, most expert cock my ass had ever felt. That just kind of made Daddy Darren a dream come true. I quickly realized he was not the text every day kind of guy and when he hadn’t called or even messaged for three days in a row I finally decided I shouldn’t put all my eggs in one basket – even if I wanted to. I hooked up for a date with some guy on Grindr and we went to get coffee. As luck would have it – even though at the time I didn’t think it was lucky – it was the same coffee shop Daddy Darren came into every day before starting work. When he walked into the place wearing a skin-tight gray t-shirt and black jeans, there was a definite pang in my heart. He noticed us right away and quickly figured out it was a date. The look on his face devastated me. He turned around and left – without even ordering. It was crazy to think we were monogamous after only a few dates, but it was very clear I had hurt the big guy. I figured that would be that with him I was sad in a way that I had never felt before. I struggled through the date at the coffee shop and actually ended up going to dinner and sleeping with the guy. I figured he’d be my consolation prize for losing Daddy Darren. To my surprise, the guy never messaged or texted – even to reply to ones I sent him. I finally just called him – very angry. After I kind of yelled at him for ghosting me, he interrupted to say he had been visited at his house by a very huge man named Darren who had made it very clear that coffee shop man should never ever contact me again. After sharing this information he hung up . . . as if he was worried that even the call would get him in trouble. Well, when I am angry I am a gay man that should not be approached. I stormed to the club where Daddy Darren worked, ignored that there was actually a line and ignored those who told me to get to the back of it, and walked up to the big man who had spotted me and had already requested someone to take his place. “What the actual fuck, man! Threatening someone I went on a date with. Who do you think you are? Why on earth would you think that after three dates we were ready to pick out China patterns? You hadn’t called or messaged in days. Am I some kind of fisherman’s wife that’s supposed to wait for her man to return?” I yelled, furiously, making a scene. And now, looking back, this is the moment that sticks in my mind the most – Daddy Darren instantly apologized. He also picked me up and took me around the corner of the building, so we’d be by ourselves and after putting me down he apologized again. He told me he knew what he did was wrong, but seeing me with another man had driven him crazy. He then told me he hadn’t called because he rushed out of town to take care of his sick grandmother, which knocked my anger level to zero, instantly. And then, suddenly, I had been picked up again, my legs were wrapped around his waist and we were kissing as if there would be no tomorrow. Daddy Darren turned and pressed me against the wall as we kissed – his huge body smothering mine. And without any warning, I came. The giant man’s apologetic kiss made me orgasm. When he realized what had happened he pushed his face beside mine so he could whisper to me. “I want to only be with you and I want you to only be with me. I am a helpless weakling when I am not with you. It breaks my heart to know I hurt you.” Well, by this time I was crying and that made him feel even worse, until I said, “I only want to be with you, too, Daddy Darren. I’m so sorry I hurt you. And I really hope your grandmother is okay.” He laughed and told me she was fine. I told him we were fine, too. He put me back down on the ground and said he was sorry he had caused the accident in my pants. I told him I wasn’t and asked when he was finished at work. He told me he finished at one and I told him I’d be back then to go home with him. You would have thought I had lassoed the moon for him. The point to all of this story was to tell you that since that night, my ass has never been touched by another man. I have also never been touched by another man. There was no need. As I walked home in my sticky pants that night I knew I had found what would give me joy the rest of my life – Daddy Darren. So, as Mr. Jerk whined a little in protest at the order to kiss my ass my mind went back to coffee shop man I had met on Grindr. Daddy Darren was righting the wrong he had done in threatening the guy from years ago – who by the way has a nice boyfriend, now, and we are good friends with them. Mr. Jerk needed to be taught he couldn’t call people names or bully them, yes, but I knew Daddy Darren hated - more than anything – allowing another man to touch, let alone kiss, me. And the fact that it was my ass was not lost on me, either. As Daddy Darren often told me, it was his kryptonite. I felt the peck on my cheek and then I heard Mr. Jerk exhale. Turning, I saw that he had been released from Daddy Darren’s grip and he was rubbing his shoulder frantically as he stood and ran from the bar. I slid back on the stool, moving forward, and Daddy Darren slid his body snug against mine, his rock hard cock instantly pressing into my backside and his humongous arms encircling me. We both took a sip of beer. “Marry me,” he said, softly . . . hesitantly . . . with more vulnerability than he’d ever shown before. “It took you long enough,” I said, smiling and looking at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar as a big grin spread across his face. “Well, I have so many men to choose from,” he said in reply, chuckling because we both remembered so well the evening of our first meeting. “I bet you do but none of them will come close to loving you the way I will,” I said, changing the line slightly – which actually caused a tear to slide down my alpha husband’s face, as he squeezed me tightly with his legs and arms.

This is a new story I've been working on (a similar size and length to my last big story Deano, Again) which centres around a group of bodybuilders sharing a flat in Manchester. Unlike my last few stories, this one features completely new characters and has no connection to the Muscle University/Deano series. However, as with most of my stories, there are a couple of nods and references to past stories and characters. This story doesn't stray too far from what people know me for. However, unlike my previous stories which were all told from the point of view of just one character, this one features multiple points of view with the chapters mostly alternating between two of the flatmates. On a final note - this first chapter is the longest of the story so if you're slightly put off by the length I promise you that most of the follow-up chapters are considerably shorter! MUSCLE LADS, INC. ONE NICK My heart is pounding as I approach the big red brick building with green framed windows Google Maps has been guiding me towards for the last twenty minutes. This is ridiculous. Why am I so nervous? Okay - that’s a stupid question. I KNOW why I’m nervous. I know why my stomach’s currently doing somersaults and why my heart feels like it’s in my throat. Because I’m about to meet Alfie Winters and Danny King. Two of the best young amateur bodybuilders in Manchester. Probably in the whole country, for that matter. Two bodybuilders I’ve admired and followed on Instagram for years. I couldn’t believe it when I saw Alfie’s Instagram Story this morning. It almost felt too good to be true. Maybe it actually is? And obviously, I was nervous when I sent him that DM telling him I was interested. I doubted whether I should. But I knew that if I didn’t take a chance and send him that message, I’d end up regretting it. And then Alfie sent me a reply which was SO fucking friendly and my head has been spinning with all of these thoughts and hopes and fantasies ever since. And yet - as I stand at the front door of the building Alfie and Danny live in and scan the buzzer for flat number seventeen, all I can think is - what the hell are these two incredible bodybuilders going to think when they open the door to an average sized, awkward looking, nerdy guy in glasses? Okay, so “average-sized” is a bit misleading. I’ve actually done two bodybuilding competitions. The first one was last summer after I’d finished university. And the second one was just last weekend. I came fourth in the junior category of a local show back home in Leicester. Which explains why I'm currently abnormally tanned and have been getting weird looks from people on the street for the past week. But despite the still shredded abs and leg striations currently hiding under my hoodie and jeans, it still feels a little weird to describe myself as a bodybuilder. Like if I actually said to someone, “I’m a bodybuilder”, there’s a very good chance they’d look me up and down and screw up their face in confusion. Maybe I’m being a bit hard on myself. Because, while I’m definitely no bull-necked Montgomery University-type tank struggling to fit through doorways by the time they’re twenty-one, I have got quite a bit of muscle on my six-foot frame. My arms are pretty thick for a start. Enough for heads to turn when I walk down the street wearing a t-shirt or vest during the summer. But by bodybuilding measures, I’m still pretty lean. I guess I’m one of those guys who looks pretty average and then shocks everyone by lifting up his t-shirt to reveal a set of shredded fucking abs. Hopefully, all of that will change in the next few years. That’s the goal anyway. To pack on more size. To keep learning. To keep growing. To keep getting better. So that one day I can proudly say “I’m a bodybuilder” with conviction and without fear of being laughed at. To be just as good as the two bodybuilders whose doorstep I’m now standing on and whose flat I’m now buzzing as my heart hammers in my chest. To maybe even be on the same bodybuilding stage as one or both of them one day competing alongside them. A deep voice comes through the intercom saying hello. I think it might be Alfie rather than Danny but I can’t quite say for sure. “Ummm. Hi,” I say back, awkwardly. “It’s Nick. To see the room?” The voice says something I can’t quite catch, a buzzing noise comes through the speaker and I hear the click of the front door opening. At this point, my nerves are off the charts. And they only get worse when I climb the stairs to the third floor. They only really start to ease when I’m suddenly faced with the image of Alife Winters filling up the door frame to his and Danny King’s flat. His big, round shoulders and jacked arms are bulging out of an Army-like olive green vest to a ridiculous degree. And the top of his thick pecs is spilling out of the material. Wow. I mean - seriously wow. He’s much bigger in the flesh. Is this guy really only a couple of years older than me? A wave of inferiority sweeps through me. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn this bloody hoodie so Alfie and Danny could see my impressively thick and still bronzed arms? Something flickers across Alfie’s face when he spots me. I don't know if it’s surprise or disappointment or something else. Maybe I look bigger in my pictures on Instagram? But then his face transforms into a welcoming smile which relaxes me instantly. “Nick, yeah?” “Yep!” I reply, smiling back. Partly to be friendly. Partly because it’s pretty hard not to smile at the image of a jacked up muscle plug of a short-arsed bodybuilder spilling out of his vest who’s not entirely unattractive face-wise and who’s standing in front of you ready to welcome you into your flat. I also can’t help thinking how considerate it is that he decided to wait for me this way to save me from wandering the halls looking for the flat number. “You found it all right, then?” Alfie asks. “Yep. Just about!” I have no idea why I said that because I had no trouble finding the flat at all. “Jesus,” Alfie says, looking up at me as I follow him through the doorway and enter the flat. “How tall are you?” “Ummm. Six foot,” I reply, suddenly becoming very aware of the height difference between us. He must only be about five foot seven at the most. “I knew I should have put a height restriction on the ad,” Alfie jokes, as we enter a room made up of a living room on one side and a kitchen area on the other. “So this is the lounge. Kitchen's over there,” Alfie says. “The TV’s mine. But, you know … use it as much as you want. We’ve got Netflix.” The room is bright, spacious and modern with big comfy-looking blue sofas and a huge television. The far back wall has exposed bricks. I think property agents and landlords would probably market this as a New York style apartment. I’ve seen a couple of similar flats described as such in my search for a place to live in Manchester over the past few days. The only clue that bodybuilders live here is a big poster of Mitchell “The Machine” Murray squeezing out a brutal crab most muscular with his mouth wide open stuck to the wall above one of the sofas. Muscle exploding. Veins everywhere. Attitude through the roof. I wonder what my parents will say about that when they drop me off. IF they drop me off here. That’s a big if. “You a fan?” Alfie asks, looking from me to the poster of Mitchell Murray. He’s got an almost teasing smirk on his face which makes me feel instantly nervous. I swear my cheeks are getting flushed. “Mmmm,” I say, looking away from Alfie and back to the grotesque muscle screaming for my attention from the wall of the living space. “Isn’t everyone?” I look back at Alfie Winters who’s giving me this big, warm grin. Did I mention the fact that Alfie Winters is kind of cute? Okay - more than just kind of. He’s got these small boyish features. A button nose. Nicely styled brunette hair. I wonder if he’s ever felt self-conscious about his ears. It’s not that they’re big. But they’re quirky-shaped and kind of stick out. They’re like little pixie ears. Somehow they just make him more attractive though. I’m suddenly pulled from my thoughts and my insides tighten. Because the other bodybuilder who lives here has just walked into the room. A bodybuilder who’s even bigger and more well-known than Alfie Winters. Unlike Alfie though, Danny King is covered up by a black hoodie with the words Panther’s Gym written on the front. No guesses as to which of the two most hardcore bodybuilding gyms in Manchester Danny attends. But even though he’s covered up, he looks like a right fucking tank. I know exactly what’s hiding under that hoodie. Thick slabs of hard, shredded meat. Gorgeous thick pecs. Blocky abs. Big, boulder shoulders. How twenty-five year old Danny King is still an amateur is anyone’s guess. It can't be long before he gets his pro card. There are so many contrasts between Alfie and Danny. Danny’s much taller. I'd say about the same height as I am. And where Alfie’s cute and boyish-looking, Danny’s kind of rough around the edges, but still handsome. Really handsome actually. He’s got brunette hair which is shaved at the sides and medium length on top. A strong jaw. He looks like a bit of a lad’s lad, I guess. The type of guy who I'd never have been friends with at school. I know I only just met the guy, but I’m also not getting the same warm, friendly vibes that I get from Alfie. There’s something about him which is kind of intimidating. Okay - very intimidating. “Danny, mate - this is Nick,” Alfie says. “The guy about the room?” Danny King gives me a half-hearted nod and mumbles, “All right,” with an unimpressed look on his face. My heart sinks to the pit of my fucking stomach as Danny turns away and heads into the kitchen area. I think I now know why someone coined the phrase ‘never meet your idols’. “I’ll show you the room,” Alfie says, seemingly unfazed by Danny’s less-than-friendly welcome towards me. As I follow him, I can’t help taking a sneaky look back at Danny, who’s now got his broad back to me, making himself a shake in the kitchen. The big cushions that make up his arse bulging underneath and stretching the material of his black joggers. I’m not being funny - but if a potential new flatmate is coming around to view a room in your flat, shouldn’t you at least make a bit of an effort with him? Is it me? Did Danny and Alfie discuss what type of flatmate they wanted beforehand and decided an absolute must was that he had to be a seasoned bodybuilder? And then I showed up with my two bodybuilding trophies and barely there calves? I’m tempted to ask Alfie if Danny is okay but it feels like it would be a weird question considering I literally just met the guy. As I follow him into the room, my eyes go down to the thick arse cheeks nestled into Alfie’s grey shorts, then further down to the thick calf muscles bulging off the back of his lower legs, then further down to the bright yellow socks he’s wearing which are patterned with little watermelons. I bite my lip to cover up my smile. Alfie Winters does this thing on Instagram where he poses in his (always shiny and hot as fuck) trunks and a pair of novelty socks pulled up to his ankles. It’s a sort of quirky little thing he’s known for doing. And people go mad for Alfie Winter’s novelty socks. Me included. Even if I’m not that vocal about it. “So where do you live at the moment, mate?” Alfie asks me as I scan the bright, decent-sized bedroom I can definitely see myself living in. “Oh, erm … with my parents in Leicester. That’s where I’m from,” I explain, turning around to see Alfie with his short thick arms folded across his chest. Must. Not. Stare. (Is drooling okay though?) “So why Manchester?” “Ummm. Well, my best friend lives here. I used to come and visit her when she was at uni and … I just kinda love it here, I guess. I’ve already got an internship here.” “Oh cool. What doing?” “Digital Marketing. It’s working for an agency.” “That sounds pretty mint,” Alfie enthusiastically replies in his cute Mancunian accent. “You can give me some tips for Instagram,” he adds with a grin so cute I’m now wondering how sensible it is to move in which a lad you’re probably going to fall in love with in the space of a week. “You’re, erm … a personal trainer, aren’t you?” As soon as the question escapes my lips I feel a sharp panic. I don’t want Alfie Winters to think I’ve been stalking him on Instagram or anything. Something flickers across his face and his lips briefly curl into an ominous little grin which makes me feel like I’ve just been rumbled. “Yeah. Just one of the high street gyms. And I’ve got a few sponsors too. So … are you gonna be a Muscle Factory boy when you move here?” he asks with a teasing look. I fail not to smirk back and nod. “Yeah. I think so!” Alfie playfully squints at me. “Yeah - I don’t really see you as a Panthers guy,” he teases. Before I have a chance to reply, Alfie shoots me another question. “You’re a Classic Physique guy, yeah?” I feel like I’ve just been winded. I know for a fact my face just dropped. “Ummm. Nah. Bodybuilding.” Alfie’s expression flickers like he’s realised what he’s said and he awkwardly nods. “I’ve just done, like, a few shows,” I explain. “Nothing major.” “And now you’re moving to Manchester to train at The Muscle Factory and become a shredded monster?” he teases with a cheeky smirk, redeeming himself for his earlier blunder. I bite my lip and grin back, feeling a little sheepish all of a sudden. We drift back into the living room and I feel both nervous and excited at the prospect of facing Danny King again. He’s sitting on one of the sofas with his face buried in his phone. He looks like such a monster just casually sitting there in his hoodie and joggers. With his veiny hands and his annoyingly good looks. He doesn’t even look up when we sit on the other sofa. Which feels kind of rude. “So, ummm … have you got many people looking at the room?” I ask. Alfie looks at Danny, who still isn’t looking up. “Just another guy later, but … you messaged us first, so …” I feel a jolt of excitement. But that quickly vanishes. Because NOW Danny looks up. He gives Alfie a pointed look, his eyebrows furrowed. As if he strongly disagrees with the suggestion that the room is mine just because I messaged Alfie first. And now I know that it’s definitely me. That this guy clearly has some kind of problem with me. Then Danny looks at me, not smiling. Just … looking at me. This kind of unnerving stare. Like he’s properly checking me out for the first time now that it's been suggested that I may actually be moving into the flat. And now I don't know what the hell to think. “Any more questions, mate?” Alfie asks. Danny’s still glaring at me. I suddenly feel like I want this sofa to swallow me up. I have no idea what’s going through Danny King’s head, but I’m sure it’s not good. I DO have questions. A few of them, in fact. Are the rumours that you’re bisexual true, Alfie? Why does Danny King seem to hate so much? And would I be getting the same unnerving glares and cold reception if I were some Montgomery University graduated monster and not just some geeky-looking guy in specs from Leicester who has all but two bodybuilding shows under his belt? There's no world in which any of those questions are appropriate to ask. So I just meekly shake my head instead and decide to get the hell out of this flat as quickly as possible with no goodbye or acknowledgement from my new best friend, Danny King. As I say bye to Alfie and make my way to exit the building, all of my hopes and wild fantasies of living and becoming friends with two of Manchester’s best amateur bodybuilders shrink and disappear into nothing. Later that night I’m standing in the queue for Utopia - a big once-a-month queer club night at one of the city’s biggest club venues, huddled together with my best friend Liv, who I’m currently staying with and her very gay flatmate, Benji, who’s made no secret of the fact that he fancies me. “I don’t know why don’t you just move in with us,” Benji quips. “We’ll split the rent three ways.” “Excuse me - I’m not having my living room turned into a bedroom,” Liv retorts. “It’s not just YOUR living room,” Benji grumbles. “Mmmm. I kinda need my own room,” I tell him. “You could always just share my room,” Benji teases, wrapping his arm around mine so they’re linked. Liv makes an audible groan and I fail not to smile at Benji’s flirting. And maybe even blush a little. Benji is actually a really sweet guy. I mean - he’s not my type at all. He’s camp as Christmas for a start. Plus - I guess you could say he’s missing a few physical attributes that I normally go for. But I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about what would happen if I gave in to Benji’s flirting. How he’d react if I lunged my face towards his and snogged his admittedly cute face off. I didn’t go into too much detail about what happened at the room viewing with Liv and Benji. I imagine the conversation that went down between Alfie and Danny when I left the flat. Alfie saying that I seemed nice. Danny pulling a face and saying they should wait for the next guy to show up. And then some super confident muscle bull of a bodybuilder who’s been competing for years and who Danny recognises from Panthers showing up to view the room and the decision being promptly made that he’s the flatmate for them and not that awkward nerd who came around earlier. Will Alfie Winters even get back to me to tell me the news or will he be too embarrassed after his blunder of implying the room was mine just because I messaged him first, which I have to say, feels like a bit stupid to me? I guess whatever happens I’ll be seeing Alfie Winters at The Muscle Factory when I eventually get my room sorted and move here. I can’t imagine him not even giving me a friendly hello. “Don't you think we’d make a good couple though?” Benji says, tightening his grip on my arm. “The big beefy himbo and the small geek.” A laugh escapes my lips. I’m tempted to ask, “Which one am I?” but I stop myself. If Benji thinks I’m big and beefy, what would he think of the two mini muscle bulls of junior bodybuilders I met earlier today? One of the guys standing in the queue in front of us glances around and quickly looks at me. Then his eyes go down to my arms. I guess my biceps do look pretty great in this tight-fitted blue t-shirt. Two seconds later he turns around again and gives me a shy little smile. I imagine that took a bit of courage. It’s kind of adorable. And the guy’s actually really handsome. And it would be so easy for me to pull him. But - ugh - I don't know if this makes me sound really shallow, but I know that what I REALLY want isn’t just a regular-sized guy. No matter how nice and cute and handsome he happens to be. We lose my new admirer once we get inside the club. I’ve never been to Utopia before and I didn’t really know what to expect but this place is pretty amazing. A huge high-ceilinged club with thumping uplifting house music full of all types of people all here to have an amazing night. It’s like a wonderland of queerness. Me, Liv and Benji make our way to the bar, passing people dressed in crazy club kid outfits, drag queens who look incredible and a few other people who stick out from the mass of clubbers. And I’m just here wearing skinny jeans and a tight blue t-shirt. And yet - I feel quite a few eyes on me. Hot guys smile at me. One guy even reaches out and places a hand on my back. It’s uninvited, but I’m flattered. All because I look pretty buff in the tight blue t-shirt I'm wearing. I can’t help but wonder what kind of reaction possibly bisexual Alfie Winters would get if he strolled in wearing that olive green vest he was wearing earlier today. Arms, pecs and shoulders bulging. And now I’m wondering - would Alfie Winters come to a place like Utopia? Would Danny King come to a place like Utopia? I think I already know the answer to the latter. “So, Mr Malone …” Benji begins with a mischievous look on his face when the three of us are standing at the bar. “I have a little present for you!” Before I have a chance to ask him what, he’s putting something into the palm of my left hand. “Ummm. What is it?” I ask, looking at the little round yellow pill now resting in between my fingers. “What’s going on?” Liv asks, leaning into us. I show her Benji’s “present”. “Oh great - so you guys are gonna be off your faces?” she says, rolling her eyes. “I’ve got one for you too, Olivia.” “What does it do?” I ask. Benji laughs. “God, he’s adorable!” he says to Liv, before turning back to me. “How can someone who looks like you be so innocent?” “Why don’t you just do half?” Liv suggests. Benji groans. “He’s a big boy. He’ll be able to handle it. Do the whole thing, Nick.” I suddenly like feel I’m in a cartoon. Benji is the little devil on my left shoulder and Liv’s the angel on the right. I look at the little yellow pill again between my fingers. I’ve never really done recreational drugs before. But this club. The people. The atmosphere. I’m suddenly feeling reckless. Without too much more deliberation, I put the whole thing in my mouth and wince at the bitter taste of swallowing it, to a grinning and excited-looking Benji. Who’s strangely never looked cuter. Half an hour later and me, Liv and Benji are huddled together dancing. Or at least I'm trying to. I don't think I’m actually moving that much. If I’m being honest I feel like a bit of a twat. Am I doing this dancing right or do I just look like a knob? I don’t think I’ll be going clubbing much when I move to Manchester. I think I’ll just stick to trying to become a muscle beast at The Muscle Factory and desperately trying to befriend Alfie Winters. Recreational drugs are also way overrated. I mean - yes, I feel a bit of a buzz. But is this really what everybody raves about? I leave Liv and Benji and escape to the toilets. I check my phone in a cubicle to find no text messages from Alfie. My insides tighten in anticipation when I open up Instagram. Because maybe he's DM’ed me there instead. But my heart soon drops. Because there’s no notification to tell me I have a message. I start to type in a name in the search bar, but something stops me when I’m halfway through. I don't think looking at the Instagram of a bodybuilder who clearly didn't think that much of me despite me hardly saying two words to him is a particularly healthy thing to do. So I type in another name instead. And now I’m smiling into my phone because I’m looking at a picture of a bronzed and shredded Alfie Winters hitting a front lat spread in what I presume is his bedroom in a pair of shiny purple posing trunks (to be fair, Alfie’s trunks are never NOT shiny) with a pair of Stranger Things socks pulled right up to his shins. I know this was taken around the time of his last competition a few weeks ago because he’s posted a couple of similar ones since then. I let out a little laugh and bite my lip as I read the caption Alfie has written to accompany the picture. Sorry, folks. These trunks aren't for sale. (I know some of you will DM me to ask anyway!) Will I ever be brave enough to post a caption as outrageous as that? Will I ever have random guys messaging me on Instagram asking to buy my used posing trunks? Right now, I’m not even brave enough to post pictures of myself in competition for fear of what people might say and think. For being judged, I guess. Which I know makes me sound completely pathetic. I put my phone away and head back out to my friends. But as I’m walking through the crowd of clubbers, something starts to happen. My arms suddenly feel light and airy. There’s this tingling sensation going up and down them. Which spreads to my whole body. And then … as I reach Liv and Benji, out of nowhere, this intense rush sweeps through me and takes over my body. “Are you okay?” my best friend asks as she grabs both of my arms. I’m not sure if I AM okay. Because I’ve never felt like this before. I guess this is what happens when you decide to be reckless and neck little yellow pill’s given to you by your mate’s flirty flatmate. “Just relax!” Liv instructs. Relax. Okay - I can do that. Because yes, I’m a little freaked out, but I know that I’m safe with Liv. And even though I don't actually know him that well, I know I’m in good company with Benji too. And so I take Liv's advice. I try to relax. I try to stop freaking out. And when I do, all of a sudden, I’m in the middle of having what is probably one of the best fucking nights out of my life. I love this place. I love this club. I love Liv. And I kinda love Benji too. Cute, sweet Benji, who is now tugging on the bottom of my t-shirt and trying to coax me into taking it off. Which really doesn’t take much doing. As soon as I peel my bright blue t-shirt off my torso, it’s like an instant reaction. And it’s not just because Benji is staring at my bumpy shredded abs with his mouth hung open. It feels like all eyes are suddenly on me. And man - it’s such a fucking rush! I never display my torso in public like this. I close my eyes and feel the heady rush of the chemicals. And now - there are hands on me. Planted on my waist. I open my eyes to see Benji giving me this dreamy little smile. Benji - who’s not my type at all but who’s sweet and funny and cute. Benji - who’s gripping my waist. Benji - whose face is now inching towards mine. Benji - who I’m now kissing. And it’s nice. And kind of horny. But when we part lips, he’s giving me this look that makes my chest tighten. Still gripping onto my waist, Benji leans into my ear. “I really like you!” I feel a sharp panic. I look at Liv behind Benji, who’s giving me this look. Like she’s warning me. Don’t mess around with Benji. Don’t break Benji’s heart. (Like I’ve ever broken anyone’s heart before!) He’s got this look in his eyes. This look of hope, I guess. And I know I need to stop what I’m doing. I know that doing anything more than just kissing Benji will be a mistake. “Ummm … I’ll be back in a bit!” I say to him, suddenly feeling like I need to escape. And quickly. “Okay!” he says, looking at me with those big eyes full of hope and desperation. I start to walk away from Benji and Liv and through the crowd of sweaty clubbers with my t-shirt tucked into the waistband of my jeans. Most of them are looking at me. Some of them smiling at me. Some of them even touching me. Because I’m pretty sure I’m the most shredded guy in this club. I'm pretty sure I'm the only guy here who can call himself a bodybuilder. Until I’m suddenly not. Because standing in front of me right now looking just as surprised and awestruck as I imagine I do is another shirtless bodybuilder. And God he’s sexy. Holy fucking hell he’s sexy. I almost can’t believe what I’m seeing. Is this a mirage? Or am I having some kind of drug-induced hallucination? This guy is about five inches shorter than me. I’m guessing late thirties. Maybe even early forties. He’s completely bald. Has piercing blue-grey eyes. Handsome, smouldering looks. And these sticky-out ears. And there’s a big sexy vein zigzagging across the right side of his head. As for the body. Holy fuck. Okay, so he’s not like a mass monster or anything. He actually has quite a small frame. But the amount and sheer quality of muscle he’s managed to pack onto that frame is incredible. He has these perfectly round shoulders. Thick, tanned arms. These hot-as-fuck wavy-lined abs. And the pecs. Fuck ME the pecs. They’re like bunched up balloons of muscle fighting for space on his chest. The kind of pecs that twitch and dance with the slightest of movements. Even the silver chain buried in his neckline and running across the top of his thick pecs is unspeakably hot. “Oh my God!” he says to me. We’re both just staring at each other. And then this beyond hot bonafide muscle daddy before me curls his mouth into the most fuck-off sexy grin. “Where did YOU come from?” he asks like he can’t quite believe what’s standing in front of him. “Ummm, Leicester!” I tell him, leaning closer to his ear. As soon the words escape my mouth I realise how fucking stupid they sounded. He wasn't actually asking me where I was from! I swear - sometimes I’m such a social retard. Sometimes when people speak to me or ask me a question, it’s like my brain goes into a panic. And I can’t think of my reply quickly enough. And I end up just sprouting this verbal diarrhoea. Or saying something completely stupid. Like I did just then. But my mystery silver chain-wearing muscle daddy of a bodybuilder doesn’t seem to care. In fact, his smile gets even bigger (and sexier). Like maybe he found what I just said sort of cute? His hand goes on my waist and he moves his lips closer to my ear. “Have you taken something?” I bite my lip and nod. His hand is not moving from my waist. And I feel so much. Chemistry. Electricity. Between me and this bald, veiny-headed, slightly sweaty muscle daddy. His thick, balloon-like pecs right there. His crazily thick shoulders. It’s like there’s an incredible hotness radiating from his body. “Do you wanna come back to mine?” I can’t think of anything I want more. I nod at the muscle daddy. He smirks at me, reaches for my hand with his, wraps his fingers around mine and leads me out of the club. So many people are staring as I’m led out of the club and across the street to a taxi by the short, jacked bodybuilder I met literally two minutes ago. It might be the fact that we’re two male bodybuilders holding hands in public. And the fact that we’re both fucking shirtless. I can’t quite believe this is happening. And I can’t quite believe how hot this mystery muscle daddy is. “Didn’t you have a t-shirt?” I ask him as we approach the taxi. Mine’s still tucked into the waistband of my jeans but his is nowhere to be seen. He shrugs and pulls a face like he doesn't care before smirking at me. We get into the back of the taxi and he tells the driver the place where we’re heading which I don't recognise at all. Then he wraps his big, meaty, slightly furry forearm around my leg, his fingers gripping my inner thigh and my cock forcefully throbs in my jeans. I can see the thick veins pulsing under the hair of his forearm. “What’s your name?” I ask him. But the muscle daddy doesn’t reply. Instead, he lunges his face towards mine and starts kissing me hard. His tongue in my mouth. His huge bare sweaty shoulder pressed up against mine. The taste of his mouth. The feel of his hard sweaty muscle. Even his scent. It’s all just so intoxicating. Almost unbearably horny. He stops kissing me. And now I’m just looking into those gorgeous blue-grey eyes. Every single fucking thing about this guy is sexy. The face. The body. The silver chain. That zigzagging vein on the side of his bald head. He’s like the epitome of masculinity. The ultimate muscle daddy. I feel like totally submitting to this guy. Letting him do whatever the fuck he wants to do to me. “My name’s Nick,” I tell him. His mouth curls into a big, sexy grin. Like he maybe thinks I’m cute or something. His grip gets tighter on my thigh. “I’m Mason,” he tells me. Even his voice is hot. Deep, masculine and surprisingly well-spoken. “But you can call me Sir,” he says, straight-faced. I don’t know if it’s the chemicals in my body. I don't know if I’d have had a different reaction to what Mason just said if I hadn't taken whatever Benji gave me back at Utopia. Whether I would have thought it was weird. Or just laughed. But I don’t even deliberate over what to do next. “Yes, Sir!” I say, feeling an unexpected rush. “Good boy!” he replies in an assertive tone. Why is hearing Mason calling me that so hot? Sir. Good boy. This is completely new territory for me. But I'm totally into it. Maybe it’s the chemicals, but right now, I’m completely prepared to do whatever this insanely hot muscle daddy wants. As soon as we’re out of the taxi Mason grabs my hand with his. And he doesn’t let go until we’re at the door to his flat. Hand in hand with his bald sweaty shirtless bodybuilder. All the time I’m rock fucking hard. I should have guessed that the moment we stepped inside his flat I’d be pushed up against the wall with Mason kissing me hard. His thick balloon-like pecs pushed against my toned chest. His wavy-lined turtle tummy abs against my little, narrow bumpy ones. “What gym do you train at?” I ask Mason as I fall back on his bed. I really want to know whether he’s a Muscle Factory bodybuilder or a Panthers guy. But he doesn’t reply. He just yanks down my jeans and boxers with determination. All the time with this insanely sexy look on his face. And now his lips are around my cock. My hands are running around over his bald veiny head. I’m gripping onto his sticky-out ears. He’s sucking me hard and fast. I feel like I'm fucking transcending. Mason frees his lips and looks up at me. The sexiest fucking grin on his face. “Wanna fuck me, boy?” “Yeah!” I reply, gripping onto his shoulder blades. His eyebrows rise up in a stern expression. “Yes, Sir.” “Good boy!” Mason says, sitting up straight and climbing on top of my legs and mounting me. My hands grip onto his thick hard legs as he grips my cock and positions himself over it. What. A. Fucking. Image. This smoulderingly handsome bald-headed mature bodybuilder with his thick pillow-like pecs and wavy lined abs sitting on top of me. Towering over me. Dominating me. And then he sits down and … fuuuuck. I’m inside Mason. My cock is inside of him. He’s riding me. I’m fucking this hot bald muscle daddy bodybuilder I know barely anything about. This hot bald muscle daddy bodybuilder who’s bringing his arms up into a front double biceps pose. He’s flexing while I’m fucking him. His eyes go to the gloriously pumped balls of muscle bulging from his upper arm and he arrogantly purses his lips. Like he’s admiring his own flexed muscle. Like he’s proud of it. Like he’s totally getting off on the fact that he’s a bodybuilder. My hands run up his stomach. Feeling his rock hard, slightly bloated abs. He looks down at me, still flexing his biceps, still with that smug fucking look on his face. His lips arrogantly pursed. And then his mouth curls into the sexiest smirk. Still the epitome of masculinity. Still the ultimate muscle daddy. When my hands reach Mason’s chest, he brings his arms down and squeezes so his pecs tense and flex and the muscle explodes under my fingers. His arms now by his side, he brings his right forearm up and clenches his fist into another flex and my hands slip to the biceps muscles now bulging off his upper arm. I’m squeezing Mason’s rock hard, marble-to-the-touch biceps muscles. Worshipping the freaky biceps of a hot bald muscle daddy bodybuilder who’s riding my fucking cock. “Want me to pose, boy?” Mason barks. “Yes, Sir!” He puts his fists on his waist and manoeuvres his upper body into a front lat spread. Lips pursed, he lets out a hot grunt as he reaches the peak of the pose. My hands run over his arms. His pecs. Down to his lats now peaking out under his armpits. All the time he’s riding me. All the time I’m fucking him. He then throws his arms behind his head and as he sits down on my cock, his big abs crunch and pop before my eyes. The hard, bloated abs of a roided-up daddy. Crunching and flexing before me. Just as I put my hands on his crunched abs he brings his arms down and with his fists pushed together squeezes out a most muscular pose with a cocky, animalistic, “YEAH!” My hands run over every muscle. Everything hard and squeezed and flexed. The look on Mason's face. The attitude. The dominance. The sheer fucking power. He grunts again as he continues to flex and ride my cock. All the time still riding me. All the time still fucking him. I’m fucking this hot bald muscle daddy bodybuilder while feeling his thick biceps and squeezed pecs. I’m worshipping him. I’m quivering in his presence. I know how lucky I am. To be with him. To be inside him. To be fucking him. He may as well as well be the hottest and biggest bodybuilder on the planet. Right now he is. Right now he’s hotter than any other muscle freak in the world. He starts riding my cock faster. I’m fucking him harder. How can anything be hotter than this? Two bodybuilders fucking each other. My dick deep inside this daddy with his freakish biceps and God-tier tits. I’m consumed by his muscle. By his mass. By his everything. He’s riding me faster. Flexing harder. Grunting louder. Two sweaty bodybuilders fucking. Mason's flexing. I feel like I’m gonna cum. He’s grunting. I’m really gonna cum. The hot muscle daddy riding my cock unleashes this loud, powerful groan as he bounces on my cock. Thick ropes of cum erupt from his cock and shower my toned pecs and shredded bumpy abs as the most intense pleasure courses through my body and consumes every part of me. And now I’m groaning. Screaming loudly. My whole body is on fire. My whole body feels like it’s exploding. Because I’m cumming. I’m cumming inside this hot jacked muscle daddy bodybuilder who’s now lying flat on top of me, laughing and catching his breath. “Fuuuuck!” Mason cries dramatically. I laugh as he grins at me wildly. Looking as sexy as ever. Perhaps even more so. We stay like that for a few moments. Him on top of me. Me clinging onto his warm sticky back. A sweaty mass of thick muscle pinning me to the bed. Jesus. Fucking. Christ. I’m on such a high. Are all my nights out in Manchester going to end like this? Mason sighs and looks me in the eye. Like he’s studying my face. “Are all the muscle lads in Leicester as hot as you?” he asks, his lip curling into a fuck-off sexy smirk. I grin back, still gripping onto him. Right now it doesn’t feel like anything matters but me being here with him. Me and Mason the Hot Muscle Daddy might as well be the only two people in the world. “I’m actually moving to Manchester,” I tell him. Something flickers across Mason’s face. Just for a second. It’s almost like I just delivered him bad news. Did I imagine that? “Awesome!” he says, his face softening. And now he looks genuinely pleased. “Mmmm. I’m trying to get my room sorted.” I suddenly have a crazy fantasy whereby Mason makes me an offer to stay here in his flat. To live here with him. “Do you go to Utopia a lot?” I ask him. He pulls a face. “Every now and then.” “Do you get many bodybuilders in there?” Mason grins. “No. Although I did take a straight bodybuilder mate there once. He loved all the attention he got.” He grips my waist hard. “You are definitely a find!” he purrs. God those eyes. God that face. God that everything. “So do you go to The Muscle Factory?” Mason mischievously grins. He pauses before answering. Am I asking too many questions? Is this not okay? “I train at Panthers. The Muscle Factory’s a bit showy-offy for me. Too many posers.” I nod and furrow my eyebrows. “Oh right. Just … you kind of seemed to like posing earlier!” I say, smirking at him. Mason lets out a little laugh. “You know what I mean. Panthers is purely about the bodybuilding. No one cares who’s there or … who MIGHT be there. Or who’s looking at them.” Huh. I had my heart set on training at The Muscle Factory. It’s pretty much the most famous gym in Manchester, after all. One of the most famous bodybuilding gyms in the country, for that matter. From what I’ve seen and heard it’s a big, clean gym, which is kind of flashy with tons of modern machines and multiple rooms and areas. Loads of famous bodybuilders have trained there. It also homes some of the best and most well-known personal trainers in Manchester. Panthers, on the other hand, is an old-school hardcore dungeon gym which is anything but flashy. In fact, it looks like a bit of a shithole from the pictures I’ve seen on the Internet. It’s a no-frills gym with old scruffy weight machines which haven’t been updated for decades. It’s almost the complete opposite of The Muscle Factory. I never really pictured myself training there. But hearing Mason comparing the two gyms, I actually quite like what I’m hearing about Panthers. I’m definitely more intrigued if nothing else. “I think you’d like it,” Mason says, with an ominous little smirk and an arched eyebrow. My chest starts to pulse with excitement. Is that some kind of invitation? Is that him saying that he wants to see me again? I’m suddenly picturing Mason taking me on my first visit to Panther’s Gym. Looking after me. Holding my hand. You know. That sort of thing. “I don't think you’d turn as many heads in there as you did tonight, though!” I suddenly feel sheepish and smile, while looking down at Mason's arms. The thick furry slightly tanned arms of a mature bodybuilder. Is it possible to pause time and stay lying in this bed forever? That’s pretty much how I feel right now. “So … do you know Danny King?” I ask him, feeling weirdly nervous all of a sudden and picturing Danny in his black Panthers hoodie yesterday afternoon. “Of course! Everyone knows Danny.” “What’s he like?” I ask, gripping a little tighter onto Mason’s back. “Mmmm. Nice guy. Doesn’t really talk much. Well … not at the gym, anyway. Keeps himself to himself. Some people think he’s a bit arrogant but … I don't think he is.” I nod. I’m tempted to tell him that I actually met Danny King yesterday and my general impression of him wasn’t hugely positive, but I decide to keep that information to myself. “Why? You got a little thing for Danny?” Mason asks, with a teasing smirk. I screw my face up. “Nah.” Mason smirks like he doesn’t believes me. “Wouldn’t blame you if you did. He’s a hot little fucker.” He squeezes my waist again. “Like you!” he purrs. He slips his hand down my body, grabs my cock in his hand and squeezes. I’m swelling instantly. He makes an “Mmmm!” sound as he squeezes my swelling cock harder while bringing his lips to mine and kissing me again. This time softer and more gentle than before. Here we go again. I have no idea what time we finally drift off to sleep. Or what time it is when we both eventually wake up. My body aches like I've run a fucking marathon. I feel more self-conscious in the light of day. I have no idea what I look like. But I get the sense that I definitely don’t look my best. If it’s anything like the way my body feels right now. But I’m still buzzing from last night. From everything that happened with Mason. Meeting him. Coming back here. Having amazingly hot sex. He seems just as into me this morning too as he was last night. Touching me. Kissing me. I really could stay here all day if he asked me to. When he leaves me alone and heads to the bathroom, I step out of his bed and dig out my phone from the pocket of my jeans lying crumpled up on Mason’s bedroom floor. I have two missed calls from Liv and a text asking where I am. I suddenly have a flashback to last night of kissing Benji in the club. That look of hope and desperation on his face. Him leaning into me and saying, “I really like you.” I take my phone back to Mason’s bed and go into the Instagram app. The little red icon is showing, telling me there’s a DM waiting for me. I don’t think anything of it, but when I see who it’s from, my chest tightens sharply and I suddenly sit up straight. Because Alfie Winters has sent me a message. Hey, Nick. Thanks for coming around yesterday. The room is yours if you want it! Holy fucking - what?! I got the room? Is this a joke? I stare at the message. Trying to make sense of the words. I got the room. They want me to live with them. Alfie Winters and Danny King want me to be their flatmate. And now I’m thinking back to yesterday. The way Danny was with me. Kind of cold and rude. And that look he gave Alfie when he suggested the room was mine. I wonder what happened after I left. Maybe Alfie managed to talk Danny around. Maybe the other guy who was viewing the room didn’t show up. Maybe he was even less of a bodybuilder than I am. Who the fuck knows. But I got the room. I’m actually going to be living with them. Mason comes back into the bedroom. He looks at me suspiciously. Like he knows something’s going down. “Everything okay?” he asks, climbing back into bed and putting his arm around my waist, his body pushed right up against my side. I drop my phone, tell him yeah and grip onto one of his thick arms, grinning and feeling like I want to melt into his skin. “Mmmm. You are so fucking cute,” he purrs. My grin gets bigger as I grip tighter. “Like a hot little sexy muscle nerd!” Before I can answer, he’s kissing me again. The minty taste of toothpaste filling up my mouth. His hand slips down and grips my cock again. “Mmmm. I reckon you’ve got at least one more load in you,” he teases. “Wanna cum again?” “Yeah!” I say, gripping his thick arm tight and looking into his piercing blue-grey eyes. He arches an eyebrow. “Are you forgetting something? Yes …?” I smirk like crazy. “Yes, Sir!” Mason smirks back at me. So. Fucking. Sexy. “Good boy!” he purrs, giving my cock another hard squeeze. Here we go again.

Hi everybody, this story is translate with an AI, because of my laziness Critics and suggestions to improve text quality are welcome! A TRIP TO OMAN (pt. 1 & 2) It's not that I could say I didn't like my life - because on the other hand I had a bit of everything - but if I'm being completely honest, there was something deep inside that I didn't like. I felt I had to give up some things: not because I lacked the ambition to achieve what I wanted, but because I knew I could not have what I wanted in the first place. I had always thought of myself as an extremely average person: average family, average class, average school, average sports results. An average love and sex life: I wasn't particularly good-looking, tall or muscular. I had studied computer engineering and got a job in Italy in a multinational company that makes software for banks. I was 35 years old and had a quiet career. Davide and I had been together for a while: we met by chance on Grindr. At first, we kept in touch just for fun and a few group outings with some mutual friends we had made. Then we finally got together. In reality, things were not going well. David, underneath it all, I always thought he was a bit jealous of what I was doing. And then lately he'd got into fitness and said that I was too sedentary, that I wasn't healthy. In short, he'd told me one day, during the umpteenth argument about never seeing each other: he wasn't happy being with me and, he'd said, my body no longer excited him. I'd taken the blow, but I couldn't say I'd got the hang of it. It was the last straw and so, after the umpteenth outburst, I left his house without speaking to him again. At work I had had a pretty serious breakdown, both in my ability to concentrate and in the quality of my work. I had also tried to reason with a friend who had sent me to a psychologist, a very good one, she said: in fact, apart from the fee, I don't remember much of what he told me, apart from the fact that he thought I was depressed. I actually had quite a lot of vacation time left over, and I should have used it sooner or later. It was the right time for me to decide to pack up and move on. But where to? One day I got a call from my colleague in Human Resources: basically, our bank was going to take part in an international merger for an investment fund whose shares it wanted to acquire; it was a done deal, but there were some problems with the feasibility of the operation. The merger partners wanted to know more about us. Basically, it was a matter of making various information available and making our accounting standards readable in their databases. A technical solution had to be found. One of the parties to the deal was a wealthy sovereign wealth fund from Oman. The owners graciously offered to host a conference to decide what to do. They would pay for all the technicians to be sent. They asked me if I was interested. I was totally against it at first. I mean, I had been to Lebanon and Egypt, but Oman was a petro-monarchy, a very conservative, absolutist state... I didn't like all that. My colleague, with whom I was quite close, explained to me very patiently that the congress would take place in five days, that it was an international event and that I should not worry. If I could get a flight from Oman to another country, I could pay for part of my holiday that way. His comment was just silly. So I decided to take the job: not least because there was a lot of pressure from above to do so. Basically, it had been planned that way. After a bit of back and forth, I had planned to leave Milan on the first Saturday in June. We would have made a stopover in Dubai and then taken a local flight to Mascate. A thirteen-hour flight with a stopover was not a few hours. But then I would arrive at a luxury hotel provided by the company. The meeting would last from Sunday, with a presentation dinner, until the following Thursday. Friday, however, was free: I planned to stay in another hotel in the area, a little cheaper, from Saturday to the following Wednesday, and then return to Italy. If nothing else, this would have guaranteed a certain punctuality in the meetings and we would have had the chance to visit these places a little. I was still curious about this place, so far from our imagination, so exotic... In short, I had decided to go. *** Despite what I had been told, the country was not that conservative. It was not true that you had to wear traditional clothes. The hotel was very nice, if a bit kitschy. The first day had gone quite well, after a very tiring flight. Mostly colleagues more or less my age, some older: several Asians, a few locals, mostly Germans, a few French. I had appreciated the precision of the timetable: all in all, even the meetings were more bearable, the topics well sketched out and the agendas organised. My only regret was that, despite my good intentions, I had seen virtually nothing of Oman. It was Tuesday evening when, at the end of the afternoon working session, I decided to join a table of local colleagues for dinner. There were four men, two in their 50s, one bald and quite tall, one a little fatter and shorter, and two more or less my age. I asked if I could join them, and they were happy to oblige: I had already broken the ice with one of the two contemporaries, a young man with glasses, a bit of stubble, who looked athletic, as I noticed under his shirt and jacket two nice broad shoulders and a rather slim waist. Yussef, that was his name, suggested that I follow him and his colleagues after dinner to try a very nice traditional place to smoke hookah. Eventually I agreed, and in his boss's luxury car, I forget whether it was a Porsche or a Jaguar, we drove into the old city. It was a very warm evening, but there was a pleasant breeze that made the night pleasant on the large terrace of this typically oriental building. We were sitting on some cushions, enjoying a water pipe, when Yussef introduced me to a man in his forties, I think, dressed in the traditional way: a long cassock and a top hat on his head. He also spoke English, but not fluently, so Yussef helped him translate a little. This very distinguished gentleman, who immediately caught the attention of those present, Yussef told me, was considered a real authority: his name was Muhammad, like the prophet, he explained, and he was some kind of soothsayer or something like that. They held him in high esteem because they said all his predictions were always right to the millimetre. Muhammad gave a few card readings to those present while I enjoyed a smoke, then explained the horoscope a little while I looked at him between scepticism and amusement. "But you - he stared at me at one point - you don't believe it? "Honestly - I tried to be a bit distracted - not much, that's not how we do it." I was a big asshole to bring up cultural differences, but it was the easiest thing to do. Muhammad, however, did not believe me - and he was right - that we do not use horoscopes and so on: he explained to me, however, that there are other 'arts'. In what sense? I had just tried to ask, and he gave me a very long lecture about, I don't remember, what kind of 'magic' or something like that existed in the Islamic mystery culture, or something like that, based on looking... Then at a certain point, while I was lost in the conversation, Yussef came in to speak for me and the discussion seemed to be getting lively, but as long as they were speaking Arabic I didn't understand a thing. At one point Muhammad squared a piece of paper and wrote some things on it: I was minding my own business and making small talk with the English-speaking colleagues around me, I didn't want to hear their arguments. In the end, Muhammad and Yussef reconciled and seemed to make peace. He left much calmer. That evening, on the way back to the hotel, Yussef explained to me that he had made a bet with our 'fortune teller': 'There is this practice we call Ilm as-Simiya, a form of magic based on the powers attributed to texts or scriptures that invoke God. I don't really believe in it, but some people get these pieces of paper made by Mohammad and pay good money to get promotions at work, get married and things like that. "Well, cool," I replied falsely. "Not too much, some people spent a lot of money on it and got ruined. Anyway, Mohammad and I made a bet. 40 rials: if it's true that the magic will work tonight. I'm already waiting to collect it." "Ahahah, I think so too... By the way, what kind of magic is it?" "If I can make some of my wishes come true!" he replied enigmatically. I didn't understand much of what he was saying, but never mind, I said goodbye and went to bed, for I was very tired. I retired to my room and as I undressed for bed I thought to myself that Yussef was not so bad, a cool guy too. Yes, I didn't mind his Arabic features, I found them masculine and I don't know, they had something mysterious, something oriental about them. Maybe I didn't mind the guys here, who knows. "Come on, old man, think about it," I said to myself in the mirror, "who do you think you want with this gut?" and I squeezed my navel a little. No way, I wasn't that fat, but my laziness had certainly put me out of shape. So I had laughed about it, not thinking about David's words, which had hurt me and left a bad mark. With this last, sudden, angry perception of myself and my body, I fell asleep, somewhat irritated. The night was very strange. I slept like a rock but had confused and nonsensical dreams, I just remember dreaming of drifting along the sea or something. The next morning I was a bit groggy. Maybe all that smoking hadn't done me any good, who knows. I washed up with lots of ice water before getting ready to go downstairs for breakfast. Almost mechanically, I buttoned my shirt and then tightened the belt on my trousers. Only then did I notice that it was a bit loose around my waist and that the buckle loops must have been tightened a turn... What had happened? I looked in the mirror. Suddenly I realised something, but it took me a while to realise it. My whole body, including my navel, was perfectly flat and slim. Not an ounce of fat: under the skin I could see a slight hint of abdominal muscles. What the hell was going on?

[A/N: Sorry there's no growth yet aside from an imagine spot, but take a good look at the main tag - it's coming in due time. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy!] I plunk down the cash on the granite counter. “I want a year’s membership.” The man at the front desk (Colton, his name tag says) is surprised. I can see why; when you run a rust-bucket gym, you don’t exactly see people built like me there, let alone signing up. “Uh, sure? Not sure why you didn’t say ‘hello’.” “Small talk isn’t going to sell me on working out here. I made up my mind a while ago.” Months and months ago. “Okay, just fill out this form and you can come back here.” He gives me a bog-standard contract and a shitty 25 cent pen, the ink almost gone. Address. Payment method (taken care of). State ID. My parents wouldn’t let me even THINK about driving a car, but I at least have something. One that somehow makes my face look even rounder and more cherubic than it already is, and one with the shoulder-length hair they thought was “cute”. God, I hate that word. I save the name for last, get it all over with at once in case my ID wasn’t enough. Casey Anderson. Yep… that’s me. I hand over the form, he presses a few keys, and we walk over to the free weights area. Not that it’s far. You can count the cardio machines on one hand, and the sole TV hasn’t been touched in almost a decade. Certainly explained Colton’s beer gut. I can walk faster than him, for fuck’s sake, and I’m almost half a foot shorter than him and even chubbier. “You look you’re new to exercising.” No fucking shit the guy with C-cups, a massive soft belly, thighs bigger around than a skinny man’s waist and a fatter ass than most women who has never seen muscle definition when looking in the mirror is a beginner. At least he’s offering to walk me through the basic barbell exercises. I’ve already researched form before I left for college, but that was late at night in private browsing so I didn’t get an earful from my parents about how I’d invariably get crushed under the bar and die, or trip and fall into a ravine, or break a bone doing yoga. Might not hurt to get a refresher. “Sure.” “Okay, so you wanna start with the bar at eye-level, feet flat on the ground, back arched like this…” Standard stuff. He pounds out 12 reps with the empty bar like it’s nothing, probably because it IS nothing. He gets up and walks behind the bench. Now it’s my turn. Arch my back, and… oh fuck. (One…) 45 pounds is more than I thought it would be. (Two…) I’m less than I thought I would be. (Three…) The bar is pushing into my saggy moobs with every rep. (Four…) A few months ago, they’d have bumped into my breast buds. (…Five…) I just got cleared to exercise after my gynecomastia surgery (…Six…) and it’s embarrassing how much strength I’ve lost in just 6 weeks. (…Seven…) I was at least able to do “girl push-ups” (…Eight…) albeit in private so they didn’t think I was ruining my knees. (…Nine…) Colton’s hands are getting closer to the bar. (…Ten…) I fucking know I should be able to rep this. (…Eleven…) I push one last time. It stalls. Stagnant. Colton finally grabs it on either side of my hands. No. “Let go.” He obliges. I arch my back even further than before, and the barbell resumes its steady ascent. “I’m not… fucking… DONE YET.” It reaches its apex. I move it just a hair towards Colton and my arms finally give out, the clank resonating throughout the gym. His blue eyes are wide with surprise. I get him. You expect that kind of now-or-never effort from a massive, lean bodybuilder, not someone as squishy and pampered-looking as me. It shouldn’t be surprising for long. This should be my new fucking normal, my body changing to reflect who I am on the inside. And what I am is a fucking predator, rugged from a life of kicking ass and taking names, the unquestioned alpha whose very presence inspires terror and lust, people asking, no, begging me to plunge my massive, throbbing manhood into their tight quivering holes and fill them with – great. Now I have a boner. Good news: nobody can see it. Bad news: I remembered that it’s 2 inches hard. Reality sucks. For now. “How the hell did you-” “I wanted it.” “Well, be careful. You need to have gas in the tank for the rest of the workout, haha.” I don’t see how that’s funny. --- “Alright, let’s finish with squats, got that Casey?” FINALLY. You couldn’t have done this before the snatch & clean? By now, he’s warmed up enough that this is his workout for the day. Turns out he’s pretty solid under the fat. His forearms show a surprising amount of thickness and shape as he loads up the bar, even if he probably hasn’t seen a vein in years. His back looks big and broad as he walks under the bar. His thighs are firm and show the shape of his thick quads as he begins to rise back up. He’s too old for me, but he’s easy on the eyes. He re-racks the bar and all the weights, sets the holds to a part of the rack that’s a lot less worn-down than the rest of it, and gives me the floor. He said to only do sets of 5 for this. He says it’s to improve my strength. I think he thinks I have none. I’ll prove him wrong. Feet hip-width apart. (One.) Knees behind toes. (Two.) Bar path vertical. (Three.) Keep your knees from bucking inward. (Four…) Explode upward. (Five!) …Holy shit, that was easy. “Atta kid! That’s probably your strongest lift. Hell, you should probably put some weight on the bar next set!” Wait, already? “…How much?” “Ten pounds oughta do it.” God, I actually get to put weight on the bar for the first time. And it won’t be the last. (Dismount.) 55 pounds to start with. (One.) Add 5 every other day and I’ll be at 135 in less than 6 weeks. (Two.) Another 3 months and it’ll be 315. (Three…) Fuck, I’ll be strong. (Four…) Just imagine what that will feel like. (Five.) “Nice, nice! That was more challenging, huh?” This is the most I’ve felt alive in years. “Sure was.” “How about you stay there for your other sets?” Damn it. Soon. --- Of all the time for Percy to use the bathroom, it’s this one. I swear to God the guys in charge of pairing up roommates do this on purpose. Okay, I hear the faucet, he’s probably close to done. He opens the door. “You’re really serious about the fitness thing?” How can be so fucking dense? I swear to God the dumb blonde stereotype is gender-neutral these days. “Did you think I stocked the minifridge with chicken and broccoli for shits and giggles? Look at me. That’s not something I did before moving here.” “Okaaay then, suit yourself. I’ll get started on homework.” As he walks off, I can hear him mutter “At least he’s only going to do this for a week or two.” Prick. Mine’s been acting up today too. Must be the workout. Better take care of it if I’m getting my pre-labs done. I take my phone out of my pocket, then strip off my clothes. Okay, don’t look in the mirror, don’t look in the mirror, don’t look in the… good, I got the lotion out. Now for the visual aid. I pull up Cliff Renegade’s socials. Fuck, he uploaded another shirtless hiking photoshoot… God, he looks so rugged in those. That rough layer of dark stubble covering his sharp jawline… Those strong, muscular, veiny arms… They have to be at least 18 inches across. That hairy six-pack… And those pecs, so thick-yet-flat... I bet people are joking when they call his tits. And that bulge, dear God. I’d fucking kill to have that in my pants. Maybe then I’d be able to jerk off with more than 2 fingers. Okay, that was a buzzkill, next image… Fuck me, his back’s gotten even bigger and broader and craggier since last time. And those legs look like sheer power instead of the blubber I have. And Jesus Christ in heaven his fucking perfect toned bubble butt is filling out those shorts. God, I want to rail that ass, my cock making him whimper, his feet on my shoulders, oh God and they’d have gotten bigger with the rest of me, I’d look like a breeding stud, just getting leaner and stronger, my cock swelling to dwarf his, just getting bigger, bigger, bigger bigger bigger bigger BIG- Fuck imagine me filling his ass with load after load of my hot cum, his hole just dripping with – crap, looked down. Hey, 2 pumps usually only happens when I’m pent up. Maybe I’m moving in the right direction. But right now, I had better clean up. After all, I’m not fit enough to be sexy when I’m sweaty. Yet.

Hey everyone, I've been quiet on here for a bit since my first story, MG Project: Test Subject #5, dealing with some health issues, but I'm back and feeling better than ever. I'm excited to share that I've completed all 50 chapters of my latest story! I’m currently working on editing and fine-tuning the final chapters, but I wanted to release it here for your feedback and, hopefully, your enjoyment. Let's get massive! HD In "The Evolution of Strength," follow Jacob, a shy college student with a passion for bodybuilding, as he embarks on a transformative journey of self-discovery. From the weight room to the competition stage, Jacob pushes his body and mind to new limits, evolving from an anxious young man into a confident powerhouse. Along the way, he navigates unexpected friendships, intense rivalries, and the complexities of his own desires, all while striving to become the best version of himself. As he grows stronger, both physically and emotionally, Jacob discovers that true strength comes not just from muscles, but from the bonds he forms and the courage to embrace his authentic self. Chapter 1 - The Barn Jacob stood on the edge of the back porch, his gaze locked onto the old barn that had silently witnessed his transformation. The moonlight bathed the weathered wooden walls, casting long shadows over the barn’s contents. To anyone else, it was just an old building, but to Jacob, it was so much more. It was his sanctuary, the place where he had begun his journey toward self-discovery and strength. He inhaled deeply, his breath catching slightly in the warm late August night air. The memories of his first day in that barn were vivid. He had been twelve years old, newly orphaned, and overwhelmed by the strange world he found himself in. Uncle Jim, his mother’s younger brother, had taken him in, offering him a home when he had none. A big man of few words and even fewer gestures of affection, Jim had nonetheless given Jacob everything he needed—a roof over his head, food, and, most importantly, space to heal. “Uncle Jim, where are you?” Young Jacob called out, his voice echoing in the quiet house as he wandered through the empty rooms on his first morning there. “Gone to the job site,” he muttered to himself, reading the note left on the kitchen counter. He traced the words with his finger, feeling the roughness of the paper beneath his skin. “Be back later this afternoon.” It was all so new, so strange. The house felt like a stranger’s, even though he had visited a few times during the summers when his parents were still alive. But now, it was different. Now, it was home. Jacob spent the morning unpacking his belongings from his few boxes, each item feeling like a relic from a past life he could hardly remember. By early afternoon, he couldn’t stand being inside any longer. The walls of the house felt like they were closing in on him, so he ventured outside, following the path that led to the creek where he had played as a small child. The icy water felt refreshing against his skin on this hot summer day, a welcome distraction from the turmoil inside him. But it wasn’t enough. He needed something more, something to keep his mind from drifting back to the accident, to the loss. That’s when he found himself in the barn. He had been rummaging through the clutter, his fingers tracing the dust-covered remnants of a life that seemed so far removed from his own, when he stumbled upon the old weight set. Rusty and forgotten, it was clear that no one had used them in years. He stared at the barbell bar for a long moment, his mind racing with curiosity. “Why not?” he muttered to himself, the words barely audible in the stillness of the barn. He dusted off the bench and positioned himself beneath the bar, his hands gripping the cold metal. The bar didn’t budge at first, the weight of just the bar alone was more than young Jacob had anticipated. But he was determined. With a grunt, he unracked and slowly brought the heavy bar to his chest. Jacob pushed with all his might, his muscles straining against the resistance. Finally, he managed to lift it, his arms trembling as he struggled to press the bar above his chest. “Come on, just a little more,” he whispered to himself, his voice strained with effort. The bar wobbled in his hands, but he refused to let it drop. With one final push, he managed to rack the bar in the holder, a surge of triumph washing over him. “That was something,” came a deep voice from the doorway. Jacob started, his head snapping around to see his Uncle Jim leaning against the doorframe, a soft smile on his face. “Uncle Jim! I didn’t hear you come in.” Jim chuckled, stepping into the barn. “You were pretty focused there, Pup,” he said, using the nickname he had given Jacob years ago. “I see you found my old weights.” Jacob nodded, still catching his breath. “I didn’t know you used to lift.” Jacob was half teasing as he stared up at the mountain of a man that everyone else referred to as Big Jim. Jim shrugged, wiping his hands on a rag he pulled from his pocket. “Used to. Haven’t touched them in years. But it looks like you’ve got a natural talent for it.” Jacob’s eyes lit up at the compliment, but he quickly looked away, embarrassed by the attention. “I just wanted to try it,” he mumbled. Jim studied him for a moment before nodding. “Tell you what, Pup,” he said, his tone serious. “If you spend the next week cleaning up this old barn, I’ll show you some basic lifts. Can’t have you hurting yourself out here.” Jacob’s heart skipped a beat. “Really? You mean it?” “Sure do. But you’ve got to put in the work first. This place could use some cleaning up, and I think you could make it a good spot for training.” Jacob didn’t need any more encouragement. The next morning, he was up before dawn, cleaning and organizing the barn with a focus and determination that surprised even himself. By the end of the day, the old barn had been completely transformed. The rusty barbell set had been cleaned, the makeshift benches repaired, and the entire space cleared of dust and debris. Jim was impressed when he returned from work that evening. “Well, I’ll be,” he said, his voice filled with pride. “You did it, Pup. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a gym.” From that day on, the barn became Jacob’s sanctuary. Jim taught him the basics of lifting—how to maintain proper form, how to push through the burn, and how to listen to his body. Each lesson was a gift, a way for Jacob to channel his grief and confusion into something tangible. That first summer the weights became his anchor, grounding him in the present and giving him a sense of purpose. But it wasn’t just the physical strength that he gained. The barn, with its creaking walls and the familiar clank of metal, became a place where Jacob could find peace. It was where he could escape the questions and uncertainties of adolescence, where he could be alone with his thoughts and his growing muscles. “Uncle Jim, do you think… do you think I could get big and strong like you?” Jacob asked one evening, his voice hesitant. Jim looked at him, his expression serious. “I think you can be stronger, Pup. It’s not just about the muscles. It’s about what you do with them. The strength you build in here,” he gestured around the barn, “it’s got to mean something out there, too.” Jacob nodded, absorbing his uncle’s words. He didn’t fully understand them then, but he would in time. Years passed, and Jacob’s body grew in ways that amazed both him and his uncle. The once-scrawny boy became a mass of muscle, each lift, each rep a testament to his dedication. But high school was still a solitary experience for him. His shyness, his awkwardness around others, never quite went away, no matter how much he grew physically. “Why don’t you hang out with the other kids, Jacob?” Jim asked one day, his voice gruff but not unkind. Jacob shrugged, avoiding his uncle’s gaze. “They don’t get it, Uncle Jim. They don’t understand why I do this.” Jim sighed, placing a hand on Jacob’s shoulder. “Not everyone will, Pup. But that doesn’t mean you should hide away. You’re strong—stronger than most. Don’t be afraid to show it. One day you'll find your tribe.” Jacob appreciated his uncle’s words, but the truth was, he preferred the solitude. The barn was where he felt safe, where he could push himself without the fear of judgment or misunderstanding. It was where he could be himself, without the need to fit in with anyone else’s expectations, and where he was slowly coming to acceptance with his attraction to other muscular guys. Throughout high school, Jacob’s obsession with growing bigger and stronger consumed him. His days were divided between academic responsibilities and intense workout sessions in the barn. He had set goals for himself, striving to push beyond each limit he had previously encountered. Every lift, every set, every drop of sweat was a step toward a vision of himself that was powerful and unyielding. As he stood on the back porch now, drenched in sweat from his latest workout, Jacob reflected on how far he had come. The barn, with its assortment of repurposed equipment, had been more than just a gym. It had been his refuge, a place of growth and self-discovery. And now at just turning 19 years old, as he prepared to leave for university, he knew that the lessons he had learned here would stay with him, no matter where he went. Jacob turned back toward the house, feeling a sense of readiness for the challenges that lay ahead. He knew that while the barn and his solitary training had played a crucial role in his life, the future held new opportunities to maybe connect with other bodybuilders and explore new facets of himself. As he prepared for the transition, he carried with him the strength and resilience he had developed, knowing that his journey was only just beginning. Chapter 2 - Are You Superman? Jacob awoke early as usual, his nerves and excitement mingling into a restless energy. The full moon was still up as he pulled on his baggy clothes—loose sweatshirts and oversized pants—designed to conceal the results of years of dedicated training. Despite his attempts to blend in, the oversized clothing did little to hide the massive muscles he had painstakingly built. He hoped that by staying under the radar, he could avoid the attention his huge physique often attracted in public, which only heightened his shyness. As he arrived at the small town train station and gave Uncle Jim a goodbye hug, Jacob felt the weight of his past and the gravity of his future pressing down on him. The station was bustling with people, and as he made his way to the platform, he could feel eyes lingering on him. His size was hard to ignore, and despite his effort to go unnoticed, a few curious glances turned into outright stares. He caught snippets of whispers—comments about his broad shoulders, his meaty quads, his unusual bulk. A group of kids, fascinated by his appearance, approached him cautiously. One of them, a boy no older than seven, tugged on Jacob’s sweatshirt. “Mister, are you Superman?” the boy asked, his eyes wide with admiration. Jacob offered a shy smile, shaking his head. “No, just... just a guy who likes to work out.” “Wow,” the boy breathed, looking him up and down. “You must be really strong.” Jacob nodded, unsure how to respond, and quickly excused himself from the growing group of admirers, finding a quieter spot on the platform. The attention made him uncomfortable; he wasn’t used to being the center of it, and it only served to remind him of how different he felt. The train ride north was a blur of landscapes and thoughts. Jacob watched the scenery shift from the familiar flatness of his hometown to the rolling hills and urban sprawl of the larger city. Each mile took him further from his comfort zone and closer to the unknown challenges of university life. He tried to focus on the rhythmic clatter of the train on the tracks, using it as a way to calm his nerves. Jacob drifted into sleep on the train, his body lulled by the rhythmic clacking of the wheels. In his dream, he was surrounded by a horde of mutant muscle men, their physiques impossibly massive, every muscle group defined to perfection. Their bodies gleamed with sweat and flexed with power, the room vibrating with their testosterone-fueled energy. Each man struck exaggerated poses, their arms and legs swelling with veins and striations, showcasing biceps and quads that seemed to defy human limits. Jacob felt both awe and intimidation, his eyes darting from one colossal figure to the next, each flex sending ripples through their flesh that seemed to echo in the air. The dreamscape shifted abruptly, and Jacob jolted awake. The train car was dimly lit, and his heart raced as he looked around, still groggy. Across the aisle, a man in his thirties sat with an intense stare, his eyes fixed on Jacob's lap. The man's tongue flicked out to wet his lips as he eyed the prominent tent in Jacob's sweatpants caused by his gigantic cock, the evidence of Jacob's arousal now embarrassingly visible. A flush of heat spread across Jacob's face, and he scrambled to his feet, his mind racing. He stumbled down the aisle towards the bathroom, desperate to relieve the mounting pressure and escape the unwanted attention. When the train finally arrived at the city’s main station, Jacob disembarked with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. Carrying his duffel and back pack, he caught the eyes of many travelers as he made his way out of the busy station. He took a cab to a modest motel he had booked for the night. It wasn’t much, but it was clean and within his tight budget. The motel room was small and unremarkable, a simple space with a bed, a desk, and a worn-out armchair. Jacob dropped his backpack and duffel bag on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of the transition settle on his shoulders. His mind raced with thoughts of the coming day—orientation at the university, moving in with an unknown roommate in his dorm, meeting new people, trying to fit in. The idea of being around so many unfamiliar faces was daunting, especially knowing that his size would draw attention whether he wanted it or not. Jacob had always been shy, preferring the solitude of his workouts to the awkwardness of social interactions. Looking around the drab motel room, Jacob felt a familiar tension building. He needed to work out, to push his body and clear his mind. But of course, this cheap motel didn’t have a gym and it was too late to go exploring for one, so he decided to make do with what he had. He stripped down to his typical white cotton tanktop and jockstrap and started with push-ups. The familiar burn in his muscles was comforting, a reminder of the control he had over this one aspect of his life. He moved on to presses, lunges, and crunches, pushing himself until his muscles quivered with exhaustion. The workout helped to calm his nerves, but as he caught his reflection in the mirror, he couldn’t help but scrutinize his physique. He turned sideways, flexing his arm slightly, noting the size of his biceps, the way his veins stood out against his skin. But it wasn’t enough. It never felt like enough. He wanted to be bigger, stronger—an unstoppable force. The thought consumed him, and as he wiped the sweat from his face, he made a silent vow to push himself even harder once he settled in at the university. A loud knock on the motel room’s door interrupted his thoughts. Jacob tensed, unsure of who it could be at this late hour in this new city. He peeked through the peep-hole to find the middle aged desk clerk standing there, he opened the door cautiously. “Brought you some more towels,” the man said with a friendly smile. “Thought you might need them.” Jacob nodded, grateful but embarrassed by the intrusion as he fully opened the door. “Thanks,” he mumbled, taking the towels. The clerk gave him an appraising look. “I found this pass to a gym that’s a few blocks from here and thought a big guy like you might put it to good use in the morning. You’re one of those bodybuilders, aren’t you?” he asked, a note of curiosity in his voice as his eyes roamed over Jacob’s sweaty, bulging frame. Jacob shifted uncomfortably but excited about maybe hitting a gym in the morning, but he was not used to being asked such questions directly. “I... I lift weights,” he admitted quietly. The clerk chuckled. “Figured as much. You’re a big fella. Must take a lot of hard work to get that strong.” Jacob offered a small, awkward smile. “Yeah, it does. Thanks for the gym pass, I’ll check it out” “Well, good luck and let me know if I can help you out with... anything,” the man said suggestively and licked his lips, giving Jacob a nod as his eyes landed on his overstuffed, old jock strap. Jacob, in his surprise and haste at the knock on the door, had forgotten how he was dressed and quickly panicked. As the door clicked shut behind him, Jacob leaned against it, taking a deep breath. The brief interaction had left him feeling exposed, and his anxiety resurfacing with a vengeance. He wished he could be more confident, more at ease with himself. But for now, he would just have to focus on what he could control—his training, his goals, and the path ahead. He headed to the small bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. That helped but he realized as he smelled his ripe musk he needed a full shower to rinse off the sweat from his workout. He turned on the warm water and stripped out of his sweat soaked tank, which took some effort over his pumped muscles. The ragged jockstrap had definitely seen better days but still did its job of containing Jacob's enormous manhood. Released from the entrapment, his semi-hard cock flopped out over his bull balls slapping from thigh to thigh as he moved. He made a mental note as he picked up the sweaty jock and flung it toward his duffel bag to shop for more underwear from that website he found last year that catered to big guys with big meat. The shower helped as he soaped up his pumped muscles but there was still a tension that needed release and if he didn’t address it now Jacob knew he would never get a good night’s rest before his big day tomorrow. As he dried off from the shower his cock was now full on raging hard and demanding attention. He walked over toward the bed and reached into his backpack and pulled out the latest issue of Massive Muscle Magazine. Back on his 14th birthday, Uncle Jim had gifted him with a subscription to the magazine and Jacob had renewed it every year since. Each issue provided instruction and motivation as Uncle Jim intended, but more importantly it fueled his growing sexual fantasies to the point where every single page of each monthly issue would be soaked with his seed until the next month’s issue arrived and the process repeated. He excitedly flipped through the brand new magazine and stopped quickly on the layout images of a couple of his favorite mass monsters. They were in front of a tractor doing a double bicep pose, wearing tight jeans, no shirts, and cowboy hats. Jacob grabbed the base of his thick, throbbing meat with his right hand as his eyes zeroed in on the huge bodybuilders and his focus went right to their dark hairy pecs and pits. Jacob loved seeing the rare images of the huge muscle men in their natural hairy state as opposed to when they shaved for the stage competitions. He dreamed to feel the soft fur covering the granite-hard pecs and wondered what those pits smelled like after they finished working on the ranch all day…oh…ugh…grunt…and without even one stroke of his cock the cum shot out of his cannon hitting the far wall of the room above the bed. Jacob threw his head back and dropped the magazine as stream after stream erupted from his hard cock. He fell forward onto the cum stained sheets and almost instantly was in a deep sleep.

Miałem niedawno bardzo dziwną serię fantazji które postanowiłem tu zapisać w formie złożonej, wieloczęściowej historii. Czemu po polsku? Po pierwsze... chciałem być autorem pierwszego polskiego opowiadania MG na tym forum, nawet jeśli przeczyta je tylko parę osób. Po drugie, historia którą wymyśliłem jest BARDZO polska. Wszystko kręci się wokół dresów! W pierwszym odcinku nie dzieje się zbyt wiele, ale mam już przygotowanę parę BARDZO mięsistych scen na kolejne części. ROZDZIAŁ 1 Widoki za oknem pociągu sunęły powoli w lewo. Nadal w powietrzu unosił się letni żar, jednak niektóre drzewa już zdawały się wiedzieć, że niedługo przyjdzie im zmienić barwę na złoto i brąz. Był początek września, a Sebastian Janecki nadal czuł w ustach smak urodzinowego tortu. 20 lat. Przede mną siódme niebo. A właściwie cały wrzesień na zaaklimatyzowanie się w nowej stancji. Akademik zamknęli na remont, więc teraz jego rodzice znaleźli ogłoszenie w gazecie, że jest gdzieś tanie mieszkanko, za grosze, na Warszawskiej Pradze Północ, tak że wystarczyło mu przejść na drugą stronę Wisły. Rodzice załatwiali mu dużo rzeczy. Pan Janecki był wójtem małej wsi Sterynin, więc małemu Sebusiowi nic nigdy nie brakowało. Jako jedynak mógł skupić na sobie całą miłość rodziców. Gorzej, że wyszedł przez to na straszną ciapę i niedojdę... Sebastian skupił wzrok z krajobrazu na własne odbicie w brudnej szybie pociągu. Zobaczył okrągłą, pyzatą i różową twarz przygniecioną parą ciężkich okularów w grubych oprawkach. Seba nie był przystojny, ale ludzie zawsze mówili mu, że wygląda miło i poczciwie, jak pluszowy miś. Miał krótkie, czarne, kręcone włosy, solidne brwi i ciemne, brązowe oczy. Jego dziadek od strony mamy był chyba Grekiem, albo Gruzinem, i przekazał wnukowi w genach trochę południowej urody. Sebastian i tak go nie poznał. Spojrzał trochę niżej i westchnął. Sebastian nie lubił swojego ciała. Wzrost był jeszcze ok, 173 cm mieściły go w ramach średniego wzrostu. Niestety, był przy tym drobny i chudy, dopiero niedawno nastoletni metabolizm zostawił go w spokoju i pozwolił mu odrobinę przytyć. Miał teraz mały brzuszek, a jego kości przykrył tłuszczyk, jednak Sebastian nie tego chciał. Sebastian chciał mieć mięśnie. Wiedział to od dawna. Zawsze gdy przebierał się na WFie w szatni, oglądał sylwetki swoich kolegów. Były to solidne chłopaki ze wsi, które musiały pomagać rodzicom na roli i w gospodarstwie. Z roku na rok robili się coraz szersi i silniejsi, kiedy Sebastian pozostawał kujonkiem niedojdą. Nie potrafił stwierdzić, czemu wtedy nie potrafił oderwać od nich wzroku, czemu rumienił się i chował przed resztą. Kiedy koledzy nazywali go pedałem, wypierał się wszystkiego i mówił, że to przez smród ich potu. Pewnie nawet sam starał się w to uwierzyć. Jednak życie postawiło przed nim dwa niezbite dowody: Pierwszym była transmisja zawodów Mr. Olimpia w telewizyjnej dwójce, w roku 1999. Sebastian zaczynał wtedy liceum. Gdy rodziców nie było w domu, on, późną nocą siedział przyklejony do telewizora, oglądając największych, najbardziej umięśnionych mężczyzn jakich tylko potrafił sobie wyobrazić. Prawdziwe bestie, tak ciężkie, że trzęsła się od nich scena. Przy każdej ich pozie Sebastian dosłownie ślinił się na koszulkę. Ich muskuły były tak wielkie, że dosłownie rozpychały się na ich ciałach, próbując wywalczyć sobie odrobinę miejsca. Gdy w końcu Ronnie Coleman otrzymał złoty medal, Sebastian czuł się absolutnie pijany. Nocą śnił o tym, że wielcy kulturyści komplementowali go, dotykali jego ciała, całowali i przytulali swoimi wyrzeźbionymi łapskami. Rano okazało się, że zmazał sobie całą pościel. Wtedy Sebastian był już pewien, że 1.Jest gejem 2.Chciałby być mięśniakiem 3.Chciałby mieć jeszcze większego mięśniaka za męża Drugie olśnienie przyszło do niego tuż po 18tce, w 2002. Sebastian przez przypadek znalazł podczas sprzątania kasety VHS podpisane po niemiecku. Z ciekawości wrzucił jedną z nich do odtwarzacza. Okazało się być to stare, dobre porno. Najpierw Seba zaczął się śmiać, potem umarł z żenady, że jego rodzice kupili sobie takie rzeczy, a potem... oglądał dalej. Jego uwagę przykuł mężczyzna na filmie - nosił on skórzaną kominiarkę, skórzaną uprząż i niewiele poza tym. Był też świetnie zbudowany - choć nie tak wielki jak kulturyści na Mr.Olympia, to jego włochate muskuły prezentowały się pysznie, gdy dominował pulchną, niemiecką blondynę, lub gdy przeciwnie - ulegał jej, pozwalając się smagać batem . Jego erekcja była przy tym tak wielka, że Sebastian zastanawiał się, jak on wogóle znajdował na nią miejsce w spodniach. W pewnym momencie przestał widzieć blondynę, a zamiast niej widział siebie - lepszego siebie, wspaniałego i wielkiego. Marzył, że to on jest karcony, chłostany i zapinany przez zamaskowanego włochacza, a potem role odwracają się, Seba podnosi go za uprząż nad głowę i zaczyna dominować go, miażdżyć mięśniami i ryczeć rozkazy i obelgi, gdy tamten wył z rozkoszy. Niestety, z tych marzeń nie wyszło nic. Sebastian 3 razy podchodził do trenowania na serio, zawsze rzucał to po miesiącu, gdy nie umiał zobaczyć żadnych efektów. Być może nie miał do tego genów. Skupił się więc na nauce. Ze wszystkich nauk wybrał sobie socjologię i starał się ze wszystkich sił, aby dostać się na wydział socjologii w Warszawie. Sebastian lubił ludzi, choć niespecjalnie lubił się do nich odzywać. Obserwował ich bardziej jak kolonię mrówek zza szyby, więc zawód socjologa wydał mu się idealny. Zza szyby mrówki nie mogły go pokąsać. W 2003 dostał się z marszu na uczelnię. W końcu pociąg stanął, a Sebastian wytoczył się z zestawem walizek na peron. Był stanowczo za słaby aby wziąć te wszystkie walizy na raz, ale chciał załatwić przeprowadzkę jak najszybciej. Przed nim widać było Warszawę Wschodnią - co było dość blisko do jego nowego mieszkania, ale spacer z takim obciążeniem był katorgą. No pięknie. Urządziłeś się, Sebuś, idealnie. Po chwili spaceru migające neony przerzedziły się, elewacja budynków pociemniała i pokryła się wulgarnymi grafitti. Wszystko wyglądało groźnie i obskurnie. Sceneria wyglądała jak z horroru i tylko sylwetka wszechobecnego Pałacu Kultury przypomniała mu, że nadal znajdował się w tym samym mieście. Po plecach Sebastiana przeszedł dreszcz, gdy jeszcze raz upewniał się, że jest na dobrej ulicy. Szlag, przynajmniej teraz wiedział, dlaczego mieszkanie było tak tanie. Choć w Unii byliśmy raptem od kilku miesięcy, to na efekty tego członkostwa trzeba będzie poczekać wiele lat, na samą Pragę Północ pewnie pójdą ciężkie miliardy. Sebastian na drugim końcu ulicy dojrzał grupkę karków i zdębiał. Trzech łysych bandziorów bardzo głośno dyskutowało przy butelkach Żywca, okutani kibolskimi flagami. To w sumie śmieszne. Jakby nie patrzeć, miał na imię Seba, jednak różnił się od typowego dresa praktycznie wszystkim. No i nikt nie mówił do niego Seba. Nigdy. Dresy też były wielkie, silne i w pewien sposób seksowne, ale strach przebijał jakąkolwiek żądzę jaką Sebuś mógłby do nich poczuć. Próba podrywu równałaby się z samobójstwem. Samo zbliżenie się równałoby się utratą telefonu i portfela. Zdecydował się więc obejść ich szerokim łukiem, idąc boczną uliczką. Po nadłożeniu parunastu minut drogi i taszczenia waliz, w końcu stanął przed właściwym adresem, pod starą, odrapaną kamienicą. Przy drzwiach wejściowych stał blady chłopak. Spoglądał gdzieś w przestrzeń ponad Sebastianem, miętoląc w ustach peta ze smętnymi resztkami papierosa. Był mniej-więcej w jego wieku, nosił ortalionowe spodnie i stary, lekko pożółkły podkoszulek. Wzrok Sebastiana przykuły odsłonięte ramiona tamtego gościa. Był on kościstym chudzielcem, tak samo jak Sebastian, jednak gdy ramiona Seby były delikatne i słabe jak rozgotowany makaron, ramiona palącego chłopaka składały się z ciasnej plątaniny żył i ścięgien, najgęściej skupionych na przedramionach, wędrujących w górę jego smukłych ramion, po zarysowanych bicepsach, znikając przy wystających dramatycznie obojczykach, tylko po to by opleść jego chudą szyję z widocznym jabłkiem adama. Sebastian poczuł dziwne napięcie patrząc na jego twarz. Była przystojna, lecz surowa, wpisana w trójkąt między kośćmi policzkowymi a spiczastym podbródkiem. Miał lekko germańską urodę - krótkie włosy strzyżone maszynką w kolorze jasnego blondu, dumnie zadarty nos i zimne, niebieskie oczy których wzrok starannie omijał zgarbionego Sebastiana. Jaka szkoda... Tego dresa nie mógł w tej chwili - ale też nie chciał - ominąć. Przez chwile stali tak w milczeniu, blady dresik palił, Sebastian garbił się pod ciężarem walizek z ubraniami i sprzętami, nie potrafiąc odezwać się do chłopaka, o którym nie potrafił myśleć inaczej niż "piękny." W końcu ów piękny dres chrząknął i w końcu spojrzał w stronę Sebastiana: "Ta?" burknął. "Nooo taaa co...? A w sensie... Ja tutaj do mieszkania. Z umową." Blady chłopak westchnął, krzywiąc się. "A więc to ty będziesz teraz wynajmować pokój? Troche sie pospieszyłeś, bo mamy jeszcze nie ma." Sebastian zamrugał, zdziwiony. "Mieliśmy podpisywać umowę..." "No ale mama jest jeszcze w robocie. Nie wyczaruje ci jej." Blady dresik burknął i wrócił do miętolenia resztek papierosa. "Mogę chociaż wejść i się rozpakować?" Zapytał Sebastian, powoli kierując się w stronę wejścia. Blady zastawił mu drogę. "Ej, ej, ej! Gdzie ty się pchasz?" "Chciałbym wejść do środka." "Bez umowy? Niby po co?" Sebastian zmarszczył brwi. Uroda urodą, ale blondas okazywał się być niezłym dupkiem. "Bo mi ciężko z tymi walizami." Blady dresik zmierzył go wzrokiem od stóp do głów. Przez chwilę zdawał się coś kalkulować, jednak po chwili odstąpił przejście: "No na siłacza nie wyglądasz. A takie grzeczne kujonki jak ty raczej nie kradną." Sebastian nie miał nawet sił się obrazić, tylko wtoczył się z walizami na obskurny korytarz. Nagle rozległo się szczekanie. Zza rogu wypadła radosna kulka brązowego futra która zaczęła wściekle obwąchiwać i łasić się do nóg Seby. Student uśmiechnął się i machinalnie zaczął drapać kundelka po główce. Blady uniósł brwi, a na jego wąskich ustach po raz pierwszy pojawił się lekki uśmiech: "No proszę. Kapeć cie lubi, a ta łajza warczy na byle-kogo. Chyba jednak jesteś w porządku." Z tymi słowy wziął od Seby jedną z walizek - jego niewielki biceps napiął się przy tym elegancko - a drugą rękę skierował w jego stronę. Najwidoczniej "Test Psa" został zdany: "Jestem Mateusz, ale ludzie mówią mi Siwy." "Sebastian." Student odwzajemnił uścisk dłoni. Mateusz uśmiechnął się szerzej: "Seba? Naprawdę? Nie gadaj!" "Taaa, to imię średnio do mnie pasuje." Sebastian uśmiechnął się słabo. Mieszkanie było małe, ale wystarczające dla jednej osoby. Główny pokój, kuchnia, łazienka, przedpokój. Pokoik miał sklejkową meblościankę z poprzedniego systemu, mały telewizor i biurko, turecki dywan oraz potężną, zabytkową kanapę z ciemnego dębu, która musiała służyć tu za łóżko. Wszystkie ściany były w kolorze mentolowej zieleni, od której Sebastianowi robiło się niedobrze. "Okej. Czuj się jak u siebie." Siwy kiwnął głową na całą tą skromiznę, patrząc jak Sebastian powolutku otwiera swoje walizy: "No a teraz regulamin." "Czytałem regulamin." Sebastian wzruszył ramionami wyciągając starannie złożone ubrania. Część Seby bardzo chciałaby, aby chudzielec już sobie poszedł. Druga część, ta spychana i ignorowana, chciała aby został jak najdłużej. "Wolę ci go powtórzyć. Jak masz jakieś zwierzaki, idzie kaucja. Jak coś zepsujesz, idzie kaucja albo płacisz za szkody. Jak sprowadzisz na mieszkanie psiarnię, idzie grzywna..." "Już mówiłeś o zwierzętach." "Jezu, o policji gadam, nie zgrywaj debila." Siwy wywrócił oczami i wrócił do wyliczania na palcach: "Jeśli coś nam zwędzisz, grzywna. Jeśli będziesz palić wewnątrz, grzywna. Jeśli zarysujesz podłogę, kaucja. Jak zgubisz klucz, kaucja." "Dużo tych kaucji..." mruknął Sebastian niepewnie. "To jest Praga-Północ. Ludzie potrafią tu odwalać takie cuda, że by ci oko zbielało." Mateusz zaśmiał się wrednie. "A jeśli... Nie będę mieć kasy na grzywnę?" "To zdobędziesz?" "A ... Jak nie zdobędę?" Dopytywał Seba nieśmiało. "To będziesz kurwa łamany." Wredny uśmieszek Matiego zrobił się szerszy, uniósł ramiona i strzelił głośno knykciami, tak że chude mięśnie na jego przedramionach zagrały pięknie. Nie dało się stwierdzić, czy żartował, czy mówił na serio. "Złam mnie proszę" odezwał się zdradziecki głosik w głowie Sebastiana, zezującego na te knykcie. On sam jednak tylko skinął głową. Pani Danuta Pyziak-Miller okazała się być dużo milszą osobą od swojego synalka. Po podpisaniu umowy w kuchni, gdzie wokół matki kręcił się jeszcze Kajtek - mały chłopczyk kropla-w-kroplę podobny do Siwego, zapewne brat, Sebastian otrzymał klucze do mieszkania i do skrzynki pocztowej. Czynsz był faktycznie niski. Mieszkanie Pyziaków znajdowało się naprzeciwko stancji, więc szansa, że będzie natykał się na pięknego złośliwca Mateuszka, była bardzo wysoka. Coś za coś. Zostało mu się tylko rozpakować. Dwie godziny później Sebastian czuł, że dla wszystkich ubrań, sprzętów i drobiazgów udało mu się znaleźć dobre miejsce. Została jeszcze jedna walizka z ubraniami na chłodniejsze dni. Sebastian wyjmował bluzę za bluzą, póki zwały ubrań nie odkryły... małej paczuszki owiniętej w różowy papier urodzinowy. Sebastian nie pamiętał, żeby pakował coś takiego. Powoli chwycił ją w obie dłonie - była miękka. Rozerwał papier, z którego wypadła karteczka. "Jak już mieszkasz na Pradze, Seba, to musisz odpowiednio wyglądać! Sto lat, bandziorze! Wujek Staszek" Wujek był bratem ojca, który zawsze miewał dziwne pomysły i dość żenujące poczucie humoru. Zwykle pojawiał się tylko na rodziny i święta z naręczem dziwnych i niesmacznych prezentów, jak stringi dla babci czy koszulki z napisem "Piwo to moje paliwo". Właśnie tego typu koszulki spodziewał się Sebastian, jednak jego brwi uniosły się aż do linii włosów, gdy w paczce ujrzał grubą, czarną kominiarkę.

So this is the first installment of my story. One, because it's long and two...because the second part isn't done yet. Once again I have failed to write a short story, so I will follow up with the conclusion by this weekend. EDIT: Conclusion is posted further down in the thread ++++++++++++++++++++ I audibly groaned as the window popped up on my computer screen, covering up the email that I was in the middle of composing. It was a 15-minute reminder that we were having yet another subvendor come in to hawk their wares. I had already skipped the last two of these so I knew I was due to attend. I work as an project engineer at a large engineering firm that specializes in power plant design and construction. Exciting stuff, I know. As you can guess, a complete power plant is a massively complex system that is made up of various equipment systems. Without going into tons of detail and making you jab an icepick into your frontal lobe, this means we have to buy a vast array of sub-equipment that are all integral to the design. Thus, throughout the year, the overly eager sellers of these wares love to come in and give presentations on why their equipment is so much better than the 15 other vendors selling the same stuff. So I picked up my notepad and trudged to the conference which was half full by the time I walked in. Of course, the chairs at the far end of the table were already taken, forcing me more toward the front and closer to the presenters. I glanced at the two men at the front of the room and chuckled, enjoying the regular dance of outside workers struggling trying to connect their computer to our monitor. What would they need today? HDMI cable? USB 2.0? Airtame? As the two men huddled over their laptop I couldn't help but realize maybe this meeting in particular wouldn't be so bad. I recognized the older gentleman as Bob Boonder, a portly man in his 60s with dark grey hair. We had purchased equipment from him often and he had stopped in to our office a few times over the years. He was a good guy who we could always count on, but right now I was more interested in his colleague. He looked to be in his 30s, though he may have been earlier in the decade while I'm solidly in the back half. He was a very handsome man with a wide and pronounced masculine jaw covered in a short, yet neatly trimmed black beard. A hint of cheekbones emphasized his handsomeness without making him look too pretty. He had deep set, dark and piecing eyes. The sides of his head were clipped short while the dark hair on top was about an inch long and styled slightly up and forward. As he glanced around the room he smiled and of course, two rows of perfectly straight, bright white teeth announced themselves to cap of the perfection of his head. His face reminded me of the lumbersexual men I had often ogled online, those who exude a rugged and outdoorsy, yet still very clean cut handsomeness. Needless to say, I found him hot. Where the heck had Bob found this guy? Suddenly the meeting was looking far more exciting, especially as I continued review of this new man. Both Bob and man were dressed in dark slacks and light colored oxford shirts, with a suit jacket on top. A nice touch, I thought. Some subvendors have come in and given presentations in dirty jeans and a polo shirt. While I have nothing against a nice polo and myself wear them often, it doesn't go unnoticed when our potential suppliers come in having put in the extra effort to wear good clothing. The two men did not wear ties and their oxfords were unbuttoned at the collars. As a company that specializes in industrial equipment, there was no problem with this. I can't remember the last time me or one of my coworkers wore a tie to work. Bob had dressed himself and his new employee perfectly to fit the culture of our workplace, his familiarity with us serving them well. It also became clear that the new man wasn't just a looker. As a regular gym goer myself, it wasn't lost on me just how broad those shoulders of his were in that navy suit jacket. And the undone collar gave me a nice preview of some big traps framing a very thick neck. I wasn't sure the man would've been able to button the collar even if they had a tie. While I pride myself on my fitness with wiry build and some decent abs, this guy had a build that exuded power. The only question that now racked my brain was just how that power was backed up. Was he once of those stocky, thicker guys with natural strength? Did he have more a powerlifter build under those clothes, with evident muscles but a bit of a gut? Perhaps a hobbyist gym bro, the guy who lifts five times a week and somewhat watches his diet yet still enjoys the pleasures of beer and burger a couple of times a week. There was a chance he could be a full on bodybuilder under there, a body packed by dense, ripped muscle but those guys are extremely rare, especially those with office jobs. I knew Bob was about my height, 5'10 or so, and his coworker stood just taller than him, putting my guess right at 6 ft or just under. All told, my years of ogling muscly men led me to guess the man to be about 230 lbs. More than enough that I could picture his strong arms carrying my 180 lb body around with ease. As I eyeballed him I couldn't make out any gut pushing against his shirt, so I surmised he was somewhere in the buff linebacker/regular gym guy range. And that was more than enough to get my blood racing as Bob and the well-put together man started their presentation. Bob began by speaking first. "Good afternoon everyone. Thank you for allowing us to come and present to you the latest we have to offer. As many of you know I'm now just a year or so away from retirement, so I've brought along my protégé here, if you will. I'd like to introduce Kirk Ahlstrom. The idea is that Kirk will take over my position once I'm out the door and enjoying margaritas on the beach." Ahhh. Kirk it is. A great name for such a big strapping hunk. "So Kirk here is actually going to give the presentation. Kirk take it away." "Thank you Bob." Of course his voice had rich, bassy timber to it. Not so deep to be James Earl Jones, but deep enough and with just enough rasp to feel it in your chest. "Bob has been a great mentor and I look forward to working with each and everyone one of you in the future." I look forward to working with YOU, Kirk. Kirk made his way around the table making eye contact with everyone around the table. When his eyes met mine it was like sparks flew. For me anyways. I swear he hesitated just a moment after looking at me but that may have been an apparition of my own lust. Kirk's presentation, like the rest of him, was very impressive. Bob had clearly taught him well. He easily and quickly answered any questions my fellow engineers lobbed his way. He was calm and poised, engaging and thoughtful. Let me tell you, it would be a huge challenge to make variable frequency drives an engaging topic, yet all the engineering and project managers in the room were locked in. The man had magnetism and charisma seeping out of his miniscule pores. Bob had certainly found himself a ringer to sell their equipment. And of course, I couldn't help but enjoy the view of his suit jacket tightening every time he gestured to something on screen. And that ass. In those slacks. And the way his thighs filled his pant legs. Yeah, this man was definitely a lifter of some sort. Holy moly did he have a big and tight ass. An ass that could only be built with heavy squats and deadlifts. When he turned to the side I swear I could've rested a cup of water his glute shelf. Forty-five minutes later Kirk flipped to a slide that simply read "Questions?" indicating he reached the end of his spiel. After a few more queries Bob stood up and once again thanked us for our time. Before leaving, Bob stopped me and started talking to me as the room began to empty out. He also stopped Janice, the project manager who was seated next to me. Coincidentally, Janice and I had teamed up on the last project in which we made a large purchase of Bob's equipment, so he offered to take us out to dinner that evening with him and Kirk. Normally, I had about six excuses ready to go to avoid just such an obligation. "Of course, Bob. I'd love too!" But I buried those excuses for the chance to spend some more time with Bob's beefy colleague. "Why sure, Bob, I would be happy to as well." Fuck off Janice. Don't you have kids to go home and take care of? Ok, that was mean, but I didn't want to share my time. "Great, how about 6:30pm at the Hotel del Plaza downtown?" Janice and I agreed and Bob and Kirk shook our hands. Oh yeah, I definitely felt those callouses on Kirk's hand. Not to mention the pure size of them. The guy had some thick hands! Farmer's hands, as my grandma would say. I escorted Bob and Kirk to the front door and returned to my desk, eager for the meal that night. - I quickly spotted the duo after walking into the large open atrium of the hotel. Even if I weren't specifically looking for them I would've noticed Kirk quickly anyways. Both were standing at the bar. Bob was drinking a beer while Kirk had a big glass of water with a lemon. Both greeted me and Janice walked in not five minutes later and together we headed for the nice restaurant connected to the hotel. We were seated around a large circular table, Kirk selected the chair to my right. Before sitting he removed his suit jacket and I was greeted to the sight of VERY large arms filling his long sleeve button down. Not to mention a full view of his wide chest pushing out the top of this shirt, creating an awning of mass over his trim waist. With the suit jacket off I was clear he also sported some heavy-weight pressing shoulders. I mentally compared the size of his arms to my own legs. Every new reveal of Kirk proved he was just as big, or bigger as I had hoped. The four of us chatted and talked business and when that slowed the topics turned to each other and other random topics. I learned that Kirk was single which made my blood boil with lustful hope. Kirk was just as warm and engaging as he was during his presentation, perhaps even more so now that he could focus that magnetic energy just to me and Janice. More than once I caught a lustful glaze in Janice's eyes when he addressed her. I wondered if she saw the same thing in mine when Kirk spoke to me. We ordered our food and it wasn't lost on me that Kirk ordered a 14oz steak along with a side of mashed potatoes and asparagus. To Bob's surprise, he also ordered a wheat beer from the restaurant's craft brew selection. "Someone is letting loose," Bob teased as he smacked Kirk's big round shoulder. "Even going with a beer tonight, Kirk?" "Always nice to try out the local flare when traveling for work," Kirk replied cheerfully. "Well you certainly ordered your share of the 'local flare'," I joked. "That's quite the steak you ordered." Bob added, "This guy eats like a horse. More than any guy I've ever seen." Kirk blushed and put his head down, attempting to divert Bob's teasing. He then fished out a small container from his pocket and popped two small white pills into his mouth. He caught me looking at this container and smiled. "Antacids. Like Bob said, it's a big steak." Bob added, "A big steak for a big man. Now Janice, I was hoping you could give me an update on the Thacker project we gave you some bids for last month..." I was slightly annoyed that Bob had changed the subject. I was much more interested in hearing how Kirk was a 'big man'. Fifteen minutes later I didn't hear about it. I saw it. Kirk practically devoured his steak. He finished before Janice, Bob or I had finished our own much smaller meals. It was endearing and sexy to watch him bite into the meat and watch his eyes roll back from the taste. "Wow, when they said this was the best steakhouse in town they weren't kidding. This is delicious. And perfectly cooked. Just the right amount of pink in the middle." I know I was eating slower than usual. I had to mentally force myself to not watch his biceps and delts flex under his shirt as he cut up his steak. I was able to make out a nice peak under the sleeve. Kirk didn't just have thick cylindrical arms, there was absolutely some good definition there too. From all the slicing and cutting it almost seemed like his arms and shoulders were getting a nice pump, stretching the fabric even tighter. Bob chuckled, "Ever since I told him about this place he's been looking forward to it all week." "And you weren't kidding about how great the steak is here, Bob." Kirk smiled to Janice and then directly to me. "I think I'm going to be making several trips to your office if I can eat here every time I come." YES PLEASE! Kirk sat back sighed with a satisfied and sated look on his face. I noticed a light sheen on his face. Kirk dabbed his napkin against his forehead. He noticed me looking and grinned. "Meat sweats." "Good thing you took those antacids," I replied as he chuckled. When the waiter came to take Kirk's plate he asked if we wanted a refill on our beers. Bob and I happily ordered another while Kirk now asked for another water. Janice requested a refill of her iced tea. At the end of the meal Bob happily took the check and paid. Janice was the first to gather her things and head out, saying she had to get back to her husband and kids. Good. We wished her good night leaving me and the vendors. "Well thank you for the meal Bob. Hopefully you don't have any work to do tonight in your room." "Well, unfortunately I do. Part of working on the road I guess. Just need to catch up on a few emails. Hopefully you don't though." "Actually I had already taken tomorrow off," I replied. "So I might head up the bar and have a couple more drinks before heading home." I turned to look at Kirk, my heart beating in my chest. "And you, Kirk?" "Actually I'm all caught up on my emails. So if you don't mind maybe I'll join you at the bar." YES PLEASE. "Absolutely. Have a great night, Bob." I practically shoved Bob away, jumping at the chance for some time alone with Kirk. Kirk grabbed his suit jacked and motioned to put it on. "If you don't mind, I'm just going to run up to my room real quick. Ugh!" Kirk groaned as he struggled to put the jacket on. It looked like he was have trouble slipping his arms into the sleeves. "Guess all that meat and potatoes bloated me a little. I'm just gonna drop this off and use the restroom and meet you back at the bar in 5 minutes, sound good?" "Sure thing, Kirk!" I watch Kirk saunter out of the restaurant, the seat of his pants drum tight over those glorious ass muscles. Having given up on slipping on the jacket, he carried it with a bent arm, an arm that was clearly stretching the sleeves tight. I couldn't wait until that arm and the man it was attached to returned. SCROLL DOWN FOR THE EXCITING FINISH

chapter 1 Marcus pov “Babe a package arrived for you says it’s from titan corp” my adorable husband ray said. I carefully went down the stairs even though they were reinforced i was still 500 pounds of muscle. I grab him from behind lifting him up “i still can’t believe I convinced you to marry me” I say kissing him. He blushes “I think I should be the one saying that your the beautiful dark god the swept me off my feet with your love of dnd” ray said looking at me with nothing but love and a little lust as he reminded me of how we got together. about 7 years ago the government randomly selected people for the titan program which was really just them testing out super solider serum on the lower class wether it work on you or not you got a fat check and all medical covered for life and free college. And it worked for me went from a 140 pounds to 500 all muscle and I’m still growing a bit. After my results and a bunch of tests I was released and went to a nearby college where I met ray a kinda chunky guy but the way his eyes lit up when he talked about dnd or his other hobbies drew me in and after we hung out a few times I asked him out the rest is history. I opened the package and pulled out the vial inside the same stuff that grew me “babe this is for you even though I think your perfect the way you are I wanted to give you the option to grow as big as me” “how did you even get your hands on this isn’t this worth millions as this point “ ray says “I pulled some strings alright don’t worry ” I put the vial in his hand “just drink it if you want to or toss it up to you babe” ray pov I didn’t even have to think about it I opened it and downed it in one go. Even though I knew he loved me for me I always had that voice in my head that I wasn’t worthy enough to be in a relationship as perfect as this one. Just seeing him walking around the house made me hard and now I was gonna grow just as big as him (picture of Marcus)

Hi guys - this new story of mine started out as my real-life experience, which was actually just the first scene in the movie theater that you will read. After that it’s all fiction, but I’ll let Bart tell you the whole story from his point of view. Hope you enjoy it, Dennis MUSCLE-STUD HOOKUP CHAPTER 1 It was a dreary Saturday afternoon in 2022 and there was a movie at the local theater here in Florida that I was eager to see. “Spoiler Alert” was a gay film that friends had said was too romantically mushy and too tear-jerky and sentimental for any of them to join me. One friend said to me, “Oh please Mary. It sounds so ‘schmaltzy’”. I decided to go anyway, and no biggy if I was going solo today. I sometimes like doing things alone and get into my own thoughts anyway, and besides, you can’t chat with friends when you’re watching the film, right? The reviews said the movie had good acting and I knew that the leads were appealing to me. I bought a large popcorn and, as I was seated in the theater, I began to realize that not only was I out alone today, my friends having made me friendless for this excursion, but it appeared that no one else in this whole freaking county wanted to see this film either. The lights in the theater went out, and I began viewing the movie having my own private showing. This turned out to be a good thing as I giggled and even laughed heartily at times, then cried with real tears in full throttle blubbering near the end. I didn’t have to be concerned with offending any other audience members around me by showing such emotion. Nor embarrass myself. And maybe this was even cathartic to me? The movie wasn’t great, but it was really just what I had wanted to see. When the credits came on at the end, I took what may have been an emergency exit to leave, finding myself now suddenly blinded by the bright sun outside. Well, this IS called the Sunshine State after all, even though it at times should be called the Hurricane State. But with no sunglasses, I found myself temporarily unable to see much, and with no sense of direction getting to my car. As a result, I stayed on the sidewalk of the strip-mall for longer than I wanted. I had heard that there was a Gold’s Gym in this mall but had never seen any muscular beauties from it for evidence that there really was one. But, right in front of me now, was the evidence. Beauty might have been one word to describe him. Godlike another. But muscle-stud would have been the most apropos word if I was writing a story about him, which I now am. Strutting out of Gold’s Gym, with a bit of a waddle, was the most breathtaking, and aforementioned beautiful, godly, muscle-studly man I have ever seen face to face. Well, not face to face yet, but just his physique was all that I needed to witness for him to get those adjectives applied to him. He was showing the largest and most defined of triceps’ horseshoes imaginable as he carried his heavy gym bag. I went into what is commonly referred to as “being in a muscle-heaven trance.” This meant that any intelligent thought that I might have had was replaced by my heart racing, my dick plumping, and I was now loudly gasping. This is a condition that only muscle-obsessed gay men are diagnosed with, and the gasping was totally involuntary, and I certainly couldn’t keep it to myself. The muscle-stud quickly looked my way to see who could have been having such an extreme reaction to whatever it was that I was reacting to. Now, even though I was certain he doesn’t live in a tree, he saw someone from his species that he doesn’t often run into. I mean, spending all that time in the gym, and Gold’s Gym specifically, he doesn’t get to see too often gay men that have almost no muscle adorning their body, that is to say, me. I looked at him with a red and frowny face of embarrassment, which softened when I saw him looking at me with the smiley friendly face of someone that actually liked what he saw. And HE already knew that I liked very much what I was looking at. He took the lead with a simple, “Hey.” My turn, and my mouth was incapable of working just yet. Lips have to be close to each other in order to speak and mine were still in the gasp stage. As my lips worked on being cooperative, which took a little while, my eyes were navigating the view in front of me. This was an exquisite example of a handsome man, somewhere in his mid to late twenties, who spent an enormous amount of time lifting in the gym to achieve what is probably a trophy winning physique. He must also shovel tons of food, at many meals a day, into his mouth, all very lean and high in protein, supplemented by lots of protein shakes. There’s also the cardio and, dare I say, courses of ‘roids. I also assumed that his testosterone was at a certain level that he unmistakably had sex more than I. Which isn’t saying much given my track record, but when you looked like him, I would also assume that he had a lot more potential partners very interested in having a roll in the hay with him. I was finally able to say ‘hey’ back as we then moved closer to one another. He was indeed very handsome, but my eyes moved south as I quickly studied his chest that was bulging out towards me creating an astounding pec shelf, making him technically much closer to me than a slim guy would be if the slim guy was standing where he was. Before I was able to get to viewing his biceps, which would have been next on the tour for me, he gave a quick dance of his pec striations. And he did it just for me, knowing that that was what I would have wanted to see. Very nice of him I thought as I did a quick low volumed gasp, really just inhaling a bit this time at what he just did. I looked back at his face, and he was giving me this full white-teeth-and-dimples smile, one of perhaps amusement mixed with him acknowledging what has a great effect on me. “You’re big into muscle, I can tell!” That deep voice again of his just added to everything else about him making him hot as fuck. It was my turn to smile now as his statement was just so obvious and you didn’t need to be an Einstein to see what I was ‘into’. “You can say that again,” I flirted back. “And you seem to have plenty of it. And just in the right places too. IE, everywhere.” Another dance of his pecs just a bit more for emphasis. “It was arms day today. This admirer of mine in Gold’s just measured them for me. Twenty-four inches cold.” “What are they when you’re hot,” was my immediate response. I could continue talking about his biceps all day if he wanted. “Being near to you, like I am now, is making me real hot. Just thinking about what I could do to a really cute guy like you makes one of my big muscles swell. And I take it you’re real hot also now, little guy?” So, I was his ‘little guy.’ I liked that, a lot. And I also liked that he was cutting to the chase right away. “More than you could ever know, big man.” And ‘little guy,’ me, loved calling him ‘big man’. Speaking of dicks swelling, mine was now leaking, thinking about what he was thinking of doing to me. “ “Actually, the second I laid eyes on you,” I continued, as I then had the opportunity to look at his left bicep which I saw relaxed, and is a 24 incher when flexed, as he said. It had the sexiest looking thick cephalic vein running down its center. This stud is truly phenomenally muscular and also sensuously ripped. Leak, leak. “Well, then give me your number,” my handsome bodybuilder said to me. A ‘handsome bodybuilder’ was interested in having my number? I’ve gotta pinch myself to see if this is really happening. “I’m running a little late for my job and I’ll give you a call and we’ll arrange a proper hookup.” He took his phone out and I tapped my number into it. He then leaned into me and gave me a quick wet kiss on my lips. He tasted delicious. And I wanted a lot more of him. He said goodbye and he was off. Would I ever hear from him again? I hadn’t even touched him. Wait, I don’t even know his name! It just all seemed so fanciful. My eyes had been trying to adjust to the sun and the first thing I was able to focus on was the most gorgeous, exquisitely muscular and handsome man I’ve ever seen. And within about five minutes my prince charming kissed me, took my number, and was off. I watched him strut away with a sexy waddle as he went to his car. I was able to now take in the bigger picture from the back. His remarkably broad shoulders, slimming to an impossibly small-in-comparison waist, then flaring out again for his muscular glutes, then his rippling quads and huge calves. With keyless entry into his sports car, he opened its door, hopped in, and he was off. His engine gunned as he shifted gears, and his smooth driving was as smooth as his sexy talk. Will I be waking up soon from a dream and the reality that this muscle-stud does not really exist, except maybe in a future dream? But he has to be real, since I can still taste his sweet masculine kiss on my tongue. I stood there on the strip-mall’s sidewalk looking for my car, then finally saw it in the distance. My time with the handsome bodybuilder was only maybe about five minutes, but I was missing him already.

CHAPTERS 1-9 Old Man Stevens – Part 1: The Journey of a Lifetime Begins I remember the first day I met Mr. Stevens. I had just moved into the six-story apartment building on Fairfax. After moving the last box into my third floor, one bedroom box (that other people called an apartment) I went back down my hallway to close the door and there he stood. All 130 lbs of his small-slightly bent 82-year-old body. He had a giant grin on his face that made him look like he had just done something naughty. I noticed the oxygen tank that I would come to learn followed him everywhere. He was standing just outside the doorframe watching me as I approached him. I knew right away he was gay. I think it was because he only looked at my crotch as I approached. This fact made me like him immediately – the dirty-old man! “Hey there, young man,” he said in a very ‘out of breath’ voice. “My name is Bud Stevens. I live just across the hall. Welcome to this hell hole.” He started laughing which quickly turned into a deep cough. “Thank you Mr. Stevens. My name is Connor,” I said holding out my hand. His grip was so weak that I sensed instantly how fragile he really was. He smiled and I believe he noted my reaction to his limp handshake. “Well I can see that you’re going to give me a little competition with the boys in the building. You are quite a looker, Connor. But you need to know right away to stay away from Rocky – he’s all mine.” “Well I don’t know Mr. Stevens. Who’s Rocky?” I asked. “He’s our UPS delivery man and he only has eyes for me,” explained Mr. Stevens. “I order something about every two weeks just so he has to drop by. But you have to forget about him. He is a one-man kind of guy and he likes them older. You can have all the rest of the slim pickings in the building. I like them big and Rocky is 100% man-beef” I laughed and said, “All right Mr. Stevens – it’s a deal. Rocky is all yours. I won’t try to compete with someone as handsome and virile as you. I know I would never win. But I should let you know that I like them big, as well. And I like them older!” “Then we are going to be great friends, Connor. Now, how about inviting me in for some tea?” And with that Mr. Stevens started coming into my apartment. “Well, of course,” I said startled by his forwardness, “but it might take me a while to find it in all these boxes.” “Well, that won’t do,” he said. “We have too much to gossip about. You’ll have to come to my place for tea. Now hurry along Connor. I need to know more details about the type of man you want so I can begin searching.” With that he turned around and I followed him to his apartment across the hall. We sat at his dining room table and talked for about two hours. He was genuinely a fantastic guy and I knew we were destined to be good friends. His apartment was immaculate and tastefully decorated – just like a gay man. It seemed that Mr. Stevens had been big in the movie business many years ago and lived quite comfortably. He had lived in our building since it was built. Mr. Stevens again shared with me that he was partial to well-built guys. He told me that the bigger the better. He said that I would have to be over when Rocky made his next delivery because I would be very impressed. I reminded Mr. Stevens that I, too, liked my guys very big – and older. He was happy because he said Rocky was in his mid twenties and he knew that was too young for me. He was right. Over the next six months I spent lots of time with Mr. Stevens. I worked from home - so I was able to see him every day. He knew everyone in the neighborhood and gave me great advice on where to buy fresh fruit, what dry cleaners to use, and what nearby bars were gay-friendly. I would come to his place each morning for coffee and he would share stories about his life and the many “conquests” that blessed his past. I could tell that he had been quite handsome in earlier years. I was enthralled when he would pull out old scrapbooks and show me pictures of gay parties at his place from many years ago. He was such a brave man – living completely “out” for most of his life. It must have been very hard when he was young. He was constantly borrowing DVDs from my porn collection. They always made him giddy for a few days. He was completely right about Rocky. He was the dreamboat UPS deliveryman from so many fantasies. He was handsome, rugged, well built and extremely kind to Mr. Stevens. I ended up being in the apartment many times when Rocky came to make a delivery. I would often have to cover my crotch when Rocky would flex his bicep to let Mr. Stevens cop a feel or when he would take Mr. Stevens hands and place them on his chest as he bounced his pecs. I could tell that Rocky had come to admire Mr. Stevens as much as I did. It made me a little jealous – there was no way I could compete with this perfect specimen of a man. Still, I could tell that Rocky’s deliveries always made Mr. Steven’s day. It also became apparent that Mr. Stevens was getting weaker. One day I came over for coffee and the door was slightly open. I knocked loudly and walked in. I found Mr. Stevens sitting at the dining room table breathing very hard and I could tell he was quite upset. “Mr. Stevens. Are you okay?” I asked. After a few more deep breaths he said, “Yes, Connor, I’m fine. I’m just having a terrible time breathing. My lungs are slowly giving up.” He looked at the oxygen tank and then added, “And I hate that damn thing. I wish I could destroy it. One day I will just toss it out the window – if I had the strength. I’m a little upset because of that asshole Jenkins who lives below me.” Mr. Jenkins was a man in his late fifties that acted as if he owned the building. He was the self- appointed “building police” on all issues. He constantly complained about anything Mr. Stevens did. Mr. Jenkins didn’t like gay men. He was this chubby guy who thought he was God’s gift to women. No one in the building liked him, but people were afraid of him because he was good friends with the owner of the building and always “reported” on how things were going. “The jerk complained about my music again and parked his car in my parking spot.” Mr. Stevens loved disco music and this drove Jenkins crazy. The asshole lived below Mr. Stevens. I must admit that Mr. Stevens did play his music quite loud – but he was hard of hearing. And he never played it too late or too early. Everyone had one parking space – a rarity in this neighborhood – and any time Jenkins had a guest over (what he usually called a “lady friend”) he took Mr. Stevens’ spot saying that since he didn’t drive or have a car that he did not need it. This usually caused a problem if Mr. Stevens was having a friend drop by or needed to get something from the storage cabinet at the end of his parking spot. Jenkins usually disregarded any complaints that came from Mr. Stevens and usually added, “What are you going to do about it old man. I could stop you with one hand.” Jenkins constantly picked on Mr. Stevens. “ You can’t let him get to you Mr. Stevens. That’s exactly what he wants. Try to ignore him.” I said trying to help the situation. “You can’t ignore Satan, Connor.” Mr. Stevens said trying to smile. I immediately noticed that Mr. Stevens’ breathing was not getting better - even though he said he was. He was having a lot of trouble getting air into his lungs and I could tell it was getting worse. His hands started trembling terribly and he looked at me with a face full of fear. “I’m calling the ambulance,” I said jumping up to grab his phone. Ten minutes later two paramedics were there to help. By the time the arrived I had Mr. Stevens lying down on the sofa - but he was still not getting better. I knew he was very sick when he didn’t say anything about the two cute men that came to help him. I don’t think he even noticed how built or handsome they were. This really worried me. I convinced the guys to let me ride with them to the hospital and I held Mr. Stevens hand the whole way. I know he noticed how worried I was and the fact that I had to wipe tears away every now and then. I wasn’t allowed to follow him past a certain point in the hospital and it drove me insane sitting in the waiting room with no news. Finally a young female doctor came out to talk to me. She said that Mr. Stevens had obviously been feeling bad for a while. He had lost a lot of blood somehow. I told her that I was not sure how and that he had not seemed bad until today. She also informed me that he had a rare blood type - AB negative – and the hospital had none in supply. She was trying to get some from neighboring hospitals. She told me not to worry – at this point. My face must have shown my enthusiasm upon hearing the problem about the blood. The doctor looked confused. I explained to her quickly that I had the same type of blood. I pulled out a card I was given by the Red Cross and showed it to her. Forty-five minutes later I was giving blood to Mr. Stevens. This made me so very happy. I wanted to help this man that had brought me so much pleasure through his stories - and by sharing his life. I was ready to do anything to help my friend. After giving blood and resting for a while the doctor suggested that I go home and get some sleep. She suggested that I come back the next morning to check on Mr. Stevens. Even though I really didn’t want to go I was wiped out by the transfusion and desperately wanted to sleep. I asked the doctor to tell Mr. Stevens I would be back the next day. The doctor said that I could come tell him myself since he had been moved to a room on the third floor. When I got to the room Mr. Stevens was sound asleep. His breathing was coming a little easier but his body kept jerking slightly – as if he was having a bad dream. I held his hand and said a short awkward prayer (I was not that religious). I found myself tearing up again. I had become very close to this man. He looked so peaceful sleeping there. He also looked younger. I know it was only because of the lighting and the fact that he was sleeping – but he did look younger and healthier. It was really weird. I leaned over and kissed his forehead telling him that I would return tomorrow to check on him. I knew he couldn’t hear me but all of the sudden his grip on my hand got very tight. I was stunned because it actually hurt. I finally pried my fingers from his vice-grip and wondered what had caused that surge of energy in this sleeping man. I couldn’t stop crying all the way home in the taxi. I know the driver thought I was stupid, but I didn’t care. I did not want Mr. Stevens to die. I felt so much love for the man. I know that most of this feeling in me was caused by how tired I was, but I really was worried about Mr. Stevens. When I got home I stumbled into my bed and immediately fell fast asleep. I awoke around 10:00am the next morning. I had slept for about sixteen hours. My mind immediately focused on Mr. Stevens when I shook off the morning drowsiness. I jumped out of bed, went into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and quickly drove to the hospital. I didn’t even take time to change clothes. I was upset because I had wanted to be there when Mr. Stevens woke up. I was lucky to find a space near the first level of the parking garage. I rushed to the floor where his room was and felt a wave of panic come over me when I found his bed empty. I stood there stunned. Slowly it dawned on me what had happened and I sunk to my knees in tears. I was so angry at myself for not staying with him through the night and I was completely devastated because this good man had died alone. How could I have been so selfish? I should not have listened to the doctor. My sobs had gotten louder and the nurse from down the hall had entered the room. “May I help you sir?” she asked. I looked at her and through my sobs I said, “I should have been here. I should have been here. I can’t believe he died and I wasn’t here with him.” This last sentence was too much reality for me and I dropped my sobbing face into my hands. The nurse walked over to me and placed her hand on my shoulder, “Honey, if you’re talking about Mr. Stevens, don’t worry. He didn’t die. He’s been released.” Those words caused me to stop crying immediately and look at her. I am sure my face reflected my disbelief. “What do you mean released?” I asked. “Mr. Stevens was doing great this morning. He woke up a new man. The doctor said she has never seen anything like this before. She had no explanation at all. Her best guess was that the blood transfusion Mr. Stevens received did something wonderful to his system. It worked like a miracle. You just missed him by about thirty minutes. He’s better than he’s been in a very long time. He was doing so well that I bet tonight he goes to a nightclub and tries to pick up some young thing,” the nurse replied smiling. “I don’t understand,” I said - still in disbelief. “Are you sure we are talking about the same man?” “Yes, honey. It’s the same man. He told me you might come by. You’re Connor, right? He is doing great, I tell you. Now stand up,” she said helping me to my feet, “pull yourself together and get home to see him. I am sure he will be happy to see you.” And with that she pushed me out the door. I walked through the hospital in a daze. I thought about turning around to go back and make sure the nurse was right. I had seen how bad Mr. Stevens was feeling yesterday and could not believe the hospital would have already sent him home. I don’t remember anything about the drive back to my apartment. After parking (and noticing that Rocky’s UPS Truck was out front with its hazard lights blinking), I rushed up the stairs to Mr. Stevens’ apartment. As I approached his door I noticed it was slightly open and I heard what sounded like loud gasps coming from inside. I immediately assumed that Mr. Stevens was, once again, in distress. I pushed open the door and hurried inside. I tripped over a rather large UPS box and fell face first on the floor. When I looked up I couldn’t believe my eyes. I quickly stood up. There was the beefy stud Rocky - totally nude - sitting upright riding the cock of some huge muscle monster. These two guys were right on top of Mr. Stevens’ large oak dining room table. The guy under Rocky was not just a huge man – he was the largest stud I had ever seen. He must have been about 380lbs of pure muscle. I looked closer and my mouth fell open in shock. It was Mr. Stevens! He was nude, as well, and a total muscle god. His face looked the same and he had the same gray hair (mostly balding) – but his skin was smooth now. It was smooth everywhere. There were no wrinkles and it looked like someone had superimposed his head on a mega-muscled bodybuilder. At that moment it dawned on me what was happening on the table. Mr. Stevens was lying on his back (and I noticed that his back was as wide as the huge table!) and Rocky was straddling the big man - riding up and down on his cock. Mr. Stevens had his arms to his sides with his palms face down on the table. For the second time in five minutes I was stunned beyond belief. Mr. Stevens was tightening his ass muscles and thrusting his pelvis into the air. The thrusts were so powerful that it would send Rocky’s body (a body I used to think was huge) into the air a few inches. This would cause Rocky to slide up Mr. Stevens’ cock and then come slamming back down with all his weight. Rocky wasn’t doing anything but riding that man like a bronco. And Mr. Stevens only used the strength of his ass and abdominal muscles to send a guy - that had to weigh over 200lbs - into the air. Each time Rocky came down he let out a loud yell of pure pleasure. It hadn’t been the weak and feeble Mr. Stevens that I heard in the hallway earlier – it was the moans of this beefy UPS man - as this elder muscle master serviced him. And what a way to be serviced! Rocky’s own weight and the momentum of his body going up and down from Mr. Stevens’ powerful thrusts was obviously bringing the UPS driver more pleasure than he had experienced before. Suddenly a voice that caused a rumbling in my chest said, “Yeah, that’s it little man. Ride that muscle cock. You’ve got a tight little UPS ass. I’m gonna make your dick shoot like it’s never had any release before. This is going to be like the first time you ever came, Rocky.” Hearing Mr. Stevens talk this way (and the fact that it was the most masculine sound I had ever heard) made my cock go from slightly hard to stone-pillar hard in two seconds. My cock actually hurt because it went hard so fast. My knees began to get a little wobbly at the same time. Old man Stevens then started thrusting harder and Rocky’s body would actually go shooting up - coming completely off of the giant cock stuffed inside him. But each time Rocky shot into the air Mr. Stevens’ giant rod stayed straight and stiff and the smaller stud’s ass would come slamming back down onto that powerful dick and the head would pierce his asshole. Rocky’s butt would then be abruptly stopped by the muscled crotch of the old man. Mr. Stevens did not give even a moment of rest to Rocky’s ass. As soon as he landed the old man would thrust him back into the air. Each time he came sliding back down Rocky would let out a loud scream of what must have been joy - like he was coming down the huge drop of a rollercoaster. I could tell by the way that Rocky’s body was getting tense – the way his muscles were all tight and veins were popping up all over his body – that he was trying with all of his might not to cum. I also saw that it was a fight he was surely going to lose. Each time Rocky slammed into Mr. Stevens’ crotch - his own dick seemed to get harder and redder – no, it was more like a deep purple – from the pressure building up inside him. Just when I thought Mr. Stevens might be getting tired from the savage pounding he was giving Rocky’s ass - he amazed me even more. He reached up and grabbed Rocky by the waist and lifted his body into the air – keeping his long thick cock still in the UPS man’s asshole. Mr. Stevens then doubled the force and speed of his thrusts as he held Rocky in place - plowing that giant rod into what was, by now, a very sore ass. This was too much for the smaller muscle man to take. After a few powerful quick thrusts, Rocky screamed out – not in pain – but in complete submission and in utter pleasure. As Mr. Stevens continued to shove that insanely large cock into what must have been a virgin hole, Rocky came like it was his very first time. The first burst of cum from Rocky's cock went flying past Mr. Stevens’ head – hitting the floor a few feet away. Then it was like a dam burst and a giant stream of jism coated the powerfully muscled chest of the old man – an old man that had been dying in the hospital just the day before. Rocky’s body shook like he was possessed by a demon but he was held firmly in mid-air by the powerful arms of Mr. Stevens. After a few seconds Mr. Stevens’ chest was so covered that it almost looked like someone had sprayed him with a fire extinguisher. Rocky’s body continued to jerk in Mr. Stevens’ strong grasp - as it tried to force more cum from his cock - but there just wasn’t anything more in him. His cock continued to bounce as if it were shooting. It was one of the strangest sights I have ever seen. Rocky’s body was so tight and strained that his screams had become silent. His head was bent backwards and his mouth was wide open but no sound came out. I worried, for an instant, that he might have a heart attack. At that moment the voice that made the room shake said, “Yeah, that’s a good little boy, Rocky. You made me proud. Now it’s time for this old man to get off.” And Mr. Stevens then slammed his cock all the way into Rocky’s ass by forcing the now half-dazed man’s body completely down - holding it tightly to his crotch. Mr. Stevens let out what sounded like the growl of a grizzly bear and then started unloading what must have been a volcano of cum into the UPS man’s ass. The force behind the eruption was clearly superhuman - but Mr. Stevens held Rocky’s ass firmly on his cock. The bodies of both men went flying off the table each time Mr. Stevens shot a load. The third time they landed back down with a thud it was too much for what was obviously a sturdy table – and all four legs just splintered causing the tabletop and the two men to come crashing straight down to the floor. The noise from the table breaking on top of Mr. Stevens’ inhuman growl was deafening. Through the entire destruction of the table Mr. Stevens did not let go of Rocky’s body. I could tell he was still unloading his cum into Rocky’s ass after everything was calm. Finally Rocky’s body stopped convulsing on the huge cock inside him and he fell backwards onto the legs of Mr. Stevens. It was as if the force of cum shooting up his ass had enabled him to stay erect and now that it had stopped he was like a child’s rag doll - not able to sit up. I could also tell that Rocky had passed out. The pleasure had been too much for him. Mr. Stevens slid Rocky’s body off his cock and left him lying unconscious on his muscled legs. Then, with both of his giant hands, he grabbed his still-insanely-hard prick and started pumping both fists up and down. My mind was completely gone. I could not comprehend what I was seeing. This man had just released an amount of cum that must have been equivalent to ten young men and here he was ready to get off again - not even one minute later. The sight of his giant cock, the memory of the amazing muscle show I had just witnessed, and the fact that this unbelievably huge man was someone I knew and loved was too much for me. As Mr. Stevens pumped his monster dick to a second eruption, my own cock exploded in my pants. The force of my ejaculation caused me to moan loudly and fall back against the wall behind me. As I slid down the wall to the floor Mr. Stevens turned and saw me for the first time. By this moment we had both stopped cumming. Mr. Stevens looked me straight in the eyes and smiled. He then said, “Uh-oh, looks like my boyfriend caught me with my pants down and fucking the UPS man. This old man is in trouble now!” Old Man Stevens – Part 2: Bud Shows Connor What He Can Do “Uh, Mr. Stevens. What happened?” was all I could say. Mr. Stevens parted his legs slowly and let the still sleeping body of Rocky drop to the table. Stevens then swung his legs and body around to the side and stood up – facing me. This was the first moment I got to see his body in all its glory. All the morphed pictures on the web that I had jerked off to since I was a teenager didn’t come close to matching this man’s body. Everything looked morphed – and yet symmetrical at the same time. It was beyond my wildest fantasies. Even his head looked the right size on top of that mountain of muscle. I still could not believe this was the same old man that had been lying in the hospital just the day before. I could not decide what part of his body to look at first – so my eyes just went to the middle. Mr. Stevens’ cock was gigantic. I know it must have been 12 or 13 inches long. It was still erect and stuck straight out like the barrel of a cannon or tank. I think the latter was a better description – because the guy was as big as a tank! I knew he was standing there completely relaxed but his arms looked like someone had taken a hundred steel cables and squeezed them together – molding them into the shape of giant biceps. Unless he consciously thought about it he could not make his forearms touch his sides. If I stood up - my arms fell straight down and rested against my sides - with my hands touching my hips. This was not true with Mr. Stevens. His lat muscles forced his biceps to stick out almost even with his shoulders – but not quite. This made his arms dangle in mid air but they actually came forward because he was so thick. Oh, how my hands wanted to run up and down those powerful lats. The same type of problem existed below his waist, as well. Only if he had forced his legs together could his knees come together. Just standing there - his thigh muscles forced his legs far apart. So far apart that I might have been able to turn sideways and crawl through – not touching any part of his body – except those muscled calves would have gotten in the way. They were so built that they almost touched in spite of the gap created by the higher leg muscles. I glanced back up the nearly seven foot body and my gaze landed on his neck. I’ve never really noticed a guy’s neck before – but I guess that was because I had never seen a neck so intensely muscled. The muscles bulging between his chin and shoulders looked 100 times stronger than my entire body. Mr. Stevens knew where my gaze had fallen and he actually flexed his neck. I kid you not – I saw a ripple of muscle go up and down just the guy’s neck. My mouth dropped open wider and this made the old man smile. Then, to force my gaze to move to a new part of his body, Mr. Stevens inhaled deeply and his chest inflated so much that his neck disappeared behind it. God, those pecs were massive. After what seemed like an insane amount of time he exhaled and then began bouncing his pecs – knowing it would mesmerize me. I sat there watching as he made the right pec ripple – by itself – and then he did the same on the left side. He then bounced both at the same time and I cried out in disbelief at the control he had over his muscles. Mr. Stevens was smiling like a little boy with a brand new toy. “My little boyfriend likes what he sees – doesn’t he?” Mr. Stevens said letting his booming voice fill the room – and causing, again, a rumble in my chest. I still couldn’t speak that well. I was dumbstruck in awe. I simply whispered, “But . . . how? But . . . how?” Mr. Stevens said, “The only explanation that the doctor could give was that something powerful happened when they mixed our blood together. Since we both are AB Negative – maybe you get something positive from double negatives. And I’d say this is pretty positive – wouldn’t you?” Mr. Stevens had been looking at his own body while he spoke and as he finished he looked again at me and raised both arms in a double bicep pose. “I have always wondered what it would feel like to be able to strike this pose and create mountains in my arms. And then cause smaller men to wish they could touch them” When I saw the muscles in his arms grow to incomprehensible heights, I lost all control of my mind and my body. All I could do was stare at each arm – moving back and forth from the right to the left. I knew Mr. Stevens wasn’t even flexing that hard – but his arms looked like someone had chiseled biceps from a granite mountaintop and placed them there. I registered what he had said - somewhere deep inside of myself - and asked, “How does it feel?” Mr. Stevens laughed when he noticed that I had basically checked out from the real world and was now solely living in the “muscle worship” realm. He knew I could still hear him and would later remember our conversation, but he also knew that the muscles popping out all over his arms were all that mattered to me at the moment. “Boy, it feels incredible. I feel like I can do anything with these guns. I was too busy with Rocky when I got home so I didn’t get a chance to test them. Besides, I knew you would want to be here when I did get around to seeing what these biceps can do. Am I right, little Connor?” “Yes, sir, Mr. Stevens,” came instinctively out of my mouth. A memory from my childhood mixed with the reality of this muscled mountain of a stud in front of me caused my reaction – I knew I was supposed to respect those older and bigger than me. And Mr. Stevens was probably ten times bigger than me. At that moment Rocky started to stir on the tabletop that was now lying on the ground. Mr. Stevens lowered his arms and both of us looked in Rocky’s direction. I was able to notice that Rocky had moved into a fetal position and had placed some fingers in his mouth. His sexual workout with this muscled daddy (or should I say granddaddy?) had reduced back into his infancy. Rocky unfurled his big body and started to wake up. I heard him saying over and over, “Must finish deliveries. Must finish deliveries.” I was pretty impressed that even after being dominated by a muscle god he was still concerned about packages he needed to deliver. Stevens turned to help Rocky and I got my first full glimpse of his ass. The word bubble butt didn’t come close to describing it – this man had a freaking shelf! I could have laid a board across that ass and ridden back there for days. Did this guy’s muscles ever stop? The size of his legs from the back just confirmed that Mr. Stevens could probably leap from the top of our building and only end up hurting the concrete beneath him. And the roadmap of muscles that covered his back bulged as he bent over and lifted the still limp Rocky to his feet. Rocky seemed like he weighed nothing in the strong muscled arms of Mr. Stevens. Stevens held Rocky in place with one hand as he bent down to retrieve the UPS man’s uniform. Unfortunately there was not much left of Rocky’s clothes. I had a feeling that in the heat of the earlier muscle worship session - Mr. Stevens had easily torn most of the clothes from Rocky’s body. I watched as Stevens dressed Rocky with the remaining pieces of clothing. It was like watching a giant dress a small doll. By the time most of his clothes were draped across his body, Rocky was a little more coherent. As he “woke up” Rocky’s hands automatically were drawn to the muscles of the giant man in front of him. He started by caressing the incredible chest and then tried to grab hold of the huge biceps level with his face. Rocky’s large hand looked like the hand of a ten year old on Stevens’ massive arm. When he could not get a good grip of the bicep Rocky opened his mouth and brought his lips and tongue to the mound of muscle. Mr. Stevens was laughing - but allowed Rocky this final chance to worship the muscles that had overpowered him so easily. Once Mr. Stevens knew that Rocky looked good enough to appear in public he reached up and pulled Rocky’s head from his mighty arm. Mr. Stevens lifted and carried him to the door. By this time Rocky could walk but he was still unable to make complete sentences. He was mumbling, “Pretty muscles. Giant muscles. Feel muscles. Want to feel muscles.” Mr. Stevens turned him so he was facing the hallway and pushed him lightly out the door saying, “Don’t worry Rocky – I’ll have another order for you to deliver this week. I promise. I need to give your body some time to gain strength. Take it easy little man and be careful driving. I’ll see you later.” Rocky stumbled down the hall and wobbled slightly as he began going down the stairs. I was a little worried about him driving, but figured the fresh air outside would help him wake up more. He probably would think all of this had been a dream (the same thing I kept thinking) but then he would see that his clothes were ripped to shreds and he would return to a comatose state - just from the memory of Mr. Stevens’ muscled body. By this time I was standing and had followed them halfway down the entrance hall – still marveling at the beautiful ass and back of Mr. Stevens. “And now where is my handsome little boyfriend,” Stevens said turning around and taking a few steps towards me – forgetting to close the door. That voice – and the fact that he called me his boyfriend – made my heart race. My cock was instantly hard again. I backed up slowly as he came towards me. I wasn’t afraid – I was just playing hard to get. Of course I knew there was nowhere I could possibly go to get away from this Goliath. All of a sudden - from the hallway - there came a voice, “Stevens! I am going to punch your lights out.” It was Mr. Jenkins. He came storming into the apartment without even looking up in our direction. He didn’t knock or anything. His face was red with anger and I knew he had blood on his mind. But I think he was about to get a big surprise – as a matter of fact – a very big surprise. “I have had enough Stevens – you little pansy,” he continued shouting as he walked further into the apartment. “It sounds like you’ve got a herd of elephants in…” Jenkins didn’t get to finish the sentence. A massive hand seemed to come out of nowhere and grabbed the front of his ugly polyester tracksuit. The hand stopped him in mid sentence and forced him jerk to a complete abrupt halt. Mr. Jenkins couldn’t have moved even if he wanted to. At first Jenkins only saw the hand holding him in his place. I then saw his gaze move slowly from the large powerful hand to the muscled forearm and then to the massive tensed bicep and then to the insanely large shoulder and finally rested on the smooth skinned face of Mr. Stevens. At the same moment the two men locked eyes on each other - Mr. Stevens easily lifted Jenkins’ overweight body a foot into the air. Mr. Stevens wanted to make sure the fat guy noticed how much taller he was now. Also, at that exact moment, I heard something that sounded like water lightly hitting the hardwood floor. Mr. Stevens and I looked down and were shocked to see that Jenkins had peed in his pants and some of it fell lightly to the floor. Also, Mr. Jenkins was now obviously shaking. “Couldn’t control yourself around this much muscle – could you Jenkins?” Mr. Stevens asked as he pressed the heavy man against the wall between the hallway and the den. “Jenkins – you have told me over and over that you could stop me with one hand. At this point I don’t think you could stop my body even with a bulldozer – but I want to show you something chubby man.” Mr. Stevens lowered Jenkins to the floor. I could tell that the smaller man was happy to be on solid ground again. The wet stain on his pants was huge. I was sure the guy was scared to death. Mr. Stevens let go of Jenkins’ top and then pressed his forefinger in the center of the guy’s chest. “I want to make sure you understand what you are dealing with now, Jenkins. With just my forefinger I can hold you in place – hell I probably could do it with my little pinky, but I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt.” I knew for a fact that Mr. Stevens was not using his entire strength but I could see that his one finger was causing Jenkins a lot of pain. I did not doubt for a second that if Mr. Stevens had wanted to, he could have pressed that man through the wall with just one finger – but I knew he did not want to hurt him –he just wanted to scare him. He also wanted to make sure Jenkins knew who was going to be the boss from now on. “Okay, little man,” Stevens said as he lowered his face down level with Jenkins’ face, “let’s see you try to get away.” And with that a big smile spread across Mr. Stevens face. It was quite obvious that Jenkins knew he could not move an inch. The fact that Stevens had lifted him so easily, the startling realization of the size of the old man, and the incredible force and pain that he felt from one finger told him he could do nothing to break free. Jenkins didn’t move a muscle. He was too scared. But Mr. Stevens would have none of that. He wanted to make sure Jenkins got a full taste of his strength. He wanted to make sure Jenkins would live in constant fear of what the muscle man who lived above him could do if the pudgy guy ever stepped out of line again. Stevens bellowed, “I said try and break free puny man!” The room actually shook from the muscle god’s voice. I know that I was shaking by the time he finished barking the order. I had to laugh out loud because once again Jenkins peed in his pants. I almost felt sorry for the guy. After Mr. Stevens shouted - Jenkins immediately tried to push himself away from the wall. I saw a look of terror and pain on his face. He was unable to move his back even a fraction of an inch from the wall. Stevens had this heavy guy pressed up against the wall with just one finger. I bet, if he had tried, he could have pushed Jenkins further up the wall with just one finger – but it might have broken bones in Jenkins’ chest. Jenkins suddenly started swinging at the arm that held him in place. He connected some heavy hits against Stevens’ huge arm but nothing could make that giant muscled slab of stone budge. Stevens’ grin just got larger and larger as he realized how powerful he was. Finally Jenkins was worn out and his arms fell to his side. He knew that he had been beaten by just one finger of this muscle monster. Stevens chuckled out loud and then said, “A minute ago you said you were going to punch my lights out. Wasn’t that right little man?” I could see a wave of fear sweep across Jenkins’ face. He suddenly started sweating profusely. I also heard him start to whimper like a baby and shake his head. “Let’s see if a powerful punch from this muscle stud can make some lights go out – shall we?” I began to panic. I didn’t want Jenkins to die – and I knew one punch from Stevens would smash in the chubby man’s face. Stevens quickly lifted his other arm back and made a fist. I found myself screaming, “No,” - at the same time Jenkins screamed like a scared child. I shut my eyes – and I know Jenkins did the same thing. When Stevens’ fist made contact there was a sound that was like two semi trucks slamming into each other. I quickly opened my eyes. Dust was settling in the hallway. What I saw made my cock go harder – harder than any other part of the day. Stevens had slammed his fist into the wall about ten inches to the right of Jenkins’ face. His arm was buried into the wall up to his massive bicep. I knew, since it was that deep, he had sent his fist completely through the wall. Dust and parts of the wall covered Jenkins’ head. His tears left streaks in the dust on his face. Throughout the whole ordeal Stevens had kept Jenkins in place with that one finger. Stevens turned to look at me as he pulled his arm out. He said, “I always wanted to make the doorway to the den an archway – what do you think Connor? Whoa, little boyfriend – by the size of that hard on in your pants I believe you like the idea. Or do you like the idea of watching this muscleman tearing down this wall with just his bare hands. Either way, come give your muscleman a kiss.” In my mind it sounded like an order from a sergeant. I quickly walked over to Mr. Stevens. I couldn’t believe what was happening. This was a man that over the last few months I had come to love and now he had become everything I fantasized about. I didn’t feel strange about moving our relationship to this new level. I knew his muscles caused most of the change in me – but I also knew I had loved him before. He leaned down and I stood on my tiptoes to give each other a quick kiss on the lips. I knew he was doing this in front of Jenkins to make a point – but I didn’t care – I wanted to kiss the muscle giant – heck, I wanted to do a lot more. After the kiss I backed up. Stevens turned back to Jenkins, “Now let’s make one thing perfectly clear - you pathetic wimp - I could have put out a lot more than just your lights if my fist had connected with your face. But I am not going to sink to your level. Now take a look at this hole in the wall – take a good look at it.” Stevens grabbed Jenkins by the shoulders and held him so he could look through the hole in the wall into the other room. “If you ever bother me or my boyfriend Connor – no, that’s not enough – if you ever bother anyone in this building again I promise I won’t miss your head – and this is what it will look like. Do you understand me little man?” I could see that Jenkins was still shaking, but he was able to get out, “Y…essss…sirrr.” “And one more thing,” Mr. Stevens added. “If you ever park in my space again I will use these powerful guns to demolish that piece of junk you call a car. If you don’t want me to fold that thing up into the size of a suitcase and leave it on your doorstep you better not put it in my spot. And I think you know I would be able to do it. Do you fully understand your muscled neighbor, pipsqueak?” Mr. Jenkins just nodded his head. And with that Mr. Stevens turned Jenkins toward the door. He grabbed the guy’s tracksuit at the shoulder blade level and at the ass. He lifted Jenkins easily in the air and carried him to the door. He swung the guy back and then sent him flying out the door. Jenkins hit the recently polished floor and slid down the hallway about ten apartments down slamming lightly into Mrs. Brown’s door. I could tell that he was dazed, but not really hurt. Mrs. Brown opened her door and saw Mr. Jenkins. She then gazed up and the look on her face was priceless. It was a mixture of shock – since Mr. Stevens was still totally nude – and lust – since Mr. Stevens’ body was now so incredibly huge. I knew just how she felt. Old Man Stevens – Part 3: The Pleasure of Bud’s Lap Mr. Stevens waved to the shocked Mrs. Brown and, pointing to the body on the floor, said, “Jenkins seems to be drunk or something. I wouldn’t believe anything he says Mrs. Brown.” Then he closed the door and turned around to face me. He placed his hands on his hips and then made his pecs bounce up and down together a few times. He stopped the show and walked into the dining room near where I was standing. “Well, I guess I’ll be needing a new table,” he said looking at the demolished pieces of wood on the floor. I followed his gaze as he noticed his oxygen tank in the corner. He walked over and picked it up. It looked small in his giant hands – when yesterday Mr. Stevens had looked small next to it - as he desperately tried to catch his breath. “It’s good that this tank is empty because I won’t be wasting oxygen when I do this.” Stevens grabbed the valve at the top and ripped it off - crushing it in his hand like it was a piece of aluminum foil. He let the crumpled metal drop to the floor and said, “Little Connor, I always told you I wanted to throw this thing out the window some day – but with my new and improved body I think there is a better way to dispose of it.” Mr. Stevens held the tank at chest level and placed his giant palms on either side of it in the middle. With very little effort he compressed the tank until the sides met. The sound of screeching metal being molded by just his hands made my cock throb. He then took the tank at either end and folded the bottom part up until it touched the top. He then took his palms and compressed those parts until it was a thin piece of metal – about as big and thick as a comic book. Mr. Stevens continued to fold the metal like it was nothing more than a dishtowel. He finally held up the tank- now in the size and thickness of a man’s small wallet. He dropped it to the floor and it made a loud thud. The task had been simple. It took no effort at all. Mr. Stevens brought his hands together a few times as if he were brushing off dust. “Well, that was easy.” “I think it’s time for you to have some fun, my little friend,” Mr. Stevens said smiling at me. He walked over to one of the solid oak dining room chairs - that had obviously been turned over and pushed to the side when he and Rocky were beginning their orgy on the table. He picked up the chair with one hand. It was one of the “head of the table” chairs that had heavy arms on each side. After standing it on the floor he reached up and broke off one arm as if he were snapping a toothpick in two. He then flicked his forefinger (the one that had held Jenkins in place with no effort) at the other arm and it went sailing off the chair - actually hitting the wall across the room. That’s how much force was behind a simple thump of his finger. He turned the chair to face me and then sat down. He was still totally nude and looked so magnificent that he reminded me of a living statue of mighty Zeus – he just needed some lightning bolts. His entire body looked like he was flexing intensely – and, yet, he was completely relaxed. He sat there smiling at me – knowing that I was enslaved by his muscled body. “Connor – come sit on old man Stevens’ lap,” he said patting the mounds of muscle that somewhat resembled thighs. His legs actually bulged upward sitting down. The front of his thighs were mounds of muscles laid on top of each other creating a space where five men of my size could have lounged. I walked towards him – lost in my disbelief of how a man’s leg muscles could be so monstrous and yet so defined. He signaled for me to stop when I got in front of him. He silently reached out and slowly unbuttoned my shirt. He pushed it off my shoulders and I let it drop to the floor. I noticed that even sitting down he was still taller than me. Mr. Stevens then reached down and lifted my feet one at a time to take off my shoes and socks. Finally he began to gently pull my pants and underwear down. As he pulled my underwear away from my body, my freed “stiff as metal” dick sprang up and slapped against my stomach. I stepped backwards – totally nude in front of my master. At the sight of my hard on, Mr. Stevens’ giant cock, which had been lying nestled between his two mega-sized legs, sprang up straight and stiff, as well. Mr. Stevens grabbed my waist and easily lifted me from the floor. I instinctively spread my legs as he brought me forward and set my ass down on those marble-like thighs. It felt like I was a five year old being placed on the back of a huge saddled horse. He then pulled my body close to his - making sure my upward pointing cock pressed up against his own massive tool. We both stared at how tiny my cock – which was pretty large compared to most normal men – looked next to his huge elephant-sized rock hard prick. I could not believe that Rocky had been able to take this entire “tree trunk” up his ass. It made my own ass twitch just thinking about it. I looked back at the now wrinkle-free face of Mr. Stevens. He was staring at me and smiling - as if he was about to give me the present of a lifetime. Come to think of it, he probably was. He brought his large palm up to his face and spit in it. I then watched as he lowered his hand and wrapped it around both of our cocks. He squeezed them together tightly and both of us breathed heavily – it actually felt like neither of us had taken a breath for a long time – until this moment. All sensation in my body rushed to one place – my cock. His hand felt like a monster vice – hurting a little, but also feeling really good. He started sliding his hand up and down our stiff rods. He could not go all the way to the tip of his 12 inches because his hand would have to leave my smaller cock and Mr. Stevens wanted us both to feel the same ecstasy. I knew right away that I could last only a few strokes – since I had witnessed so much power and muscle in the last few hours and was full of cum desperately wanting release. Mr. Stevens knew this too – so he had plans to keep me focused on other things. He looked into my face as he continued to pump our cocks and said, “Why don’t you reach out and feel that arm, little man, as it bulges from working hard to give us both pleasure.” I did not need to be asked twice. Both of my hands went quickly to the thick corded bicep that seemed to be 25 inches wide and it wasn’t even flexed that much. It was hard to describe what I was feeling. His arm was hot to touch – that’s for sure – but it also felt like a huge smooth stone. I could only compare it to touching marble that is part of the wall of a building – that’s it - it seemed as strong as a giant slab of marble. I spread one hand as wide as it would go and it didn’t come close to reaching from the tip of the bicep to the base of the triceps. I could run my fingers down crevices and dimples that appeared all over the arm when he flexed. Each time Stevens moved his arm up and down the bulge of his bicep grew to mind-blowing proportions. My entire body was alive with pleasure – caused by the stroking of my cock and worshipping that massive arm. I ran my hands down to the forearm and noticed that the muscles of his forearm were wider than the thickest part of my arm – maybe even my leg. Veins ran up and down his forearm - making it appear so masculine that I knew I’d have to spend another session just worshipping that part of this great man’s body. There were enough muscles in just his forearm that I could be lost for hours licking only that specific place. Stevens’ gaze went everywhere my gaze fell. I could tell he liked seeing his own body through my eyes – it brought him great pleasure to know he could mesmerize me by just flexing a specific part of his body. I let my hands drop to my sides and leaned into him – bringing my mouth to his bicep. Mr. Stevens was still slowly and methodically pumping our cocks, but I was so transfixed by his arm that I was able to refrain from cumming – just as he had planned. I brushed my lips along the side of his arm and then stopped where the bulge of his massive bicep separated in three different peaks. Each looked like it would be a sizeable bicep on any regular man – but Stevens was no regular man. I let my tongue slowly run along the thick middle peak. I knew instantly that the taste that gave me much pleasure could only come from a man like Mr. Stevens – this was what a real muscle man tasted like. And the smell of his skin – that alone could have made me cum, but I wanted to save to please my muscle master. His aroma was an incredible mixture of manly sweat and a sweet smell that could only come from a healthy powerful body. Before today Mr. Stevens had always smelled like medicine – and day old clothes – but not now. I leaned back and looked up into the eyes of this superman. Mr. Stevens smiled at me and seemed to purr, “That was nice, boy. You really do know how to worship a man, don’t you? Now, how about some work on these pecs? But I don’t want you to be nice – I want you to be rough. Don’t worry about hurting me, son, because you couldn’t even if you wanted to. I want you to punch those pecs like you were a prize-fighting boxer. Go ahead – aim for those nips. I want you to make them hard. Now don’t be shy – give me all you got, my little man.” I leaned slightly back and for a second my mind focused on his hand going up and down on our cocks. I could feel how hard his enormous rod was – and that made mine move closer to shooting. Stevens could see that my mind had shifted – and he knew to where it had moved. “Come on little Connor – make this muscleman happy – punch these pecs!” It almost sounded like and order and that caused me to snap back in attention. I lifted both arms, pulled them back - even with my shoulders, made two fists and let them slam into his enormous chest – taking careful aim to hit his areolas. Pain shot through my hands and up my arms. My fists had not sunk into his chest at all. It was like hitting concrete that was covered by smooth leather. I cried out in agony and immediately brought my hands to my mouth to lick my hurting fingers. I looked to see if the skin was broken. Mr. Stevens immediately said, “I’m sorry Connor. I didn’t realize how hard my pecs are. I wasn’t even flexing them.” I immediately stopped focusing on my pain – the thought of his chest being that hard - without even being flexed - turned me on greatly. I looked at his face and smiled. He was reassured that I must be okay and immediately realized what had taken my pain away. “So you like the thought of my chest being touch enough to even take a pounding from a sledgehammer – don’t you boy?” I nodded. “Hell, they might even be strong enough to take a jackhammer. We might have to try that one day – huh, Connor?” That image was too much for me to handle. Without warning my body convulsed like I was having some kind of massive seizure. Cum shot out of my cock – going higher than my head. It streamed out like a geyser – not in typical staccato squirts. Stevens let out a loud whistle and then said loudly, “There goes old faithful! That is one beautiful tribute to your muscleman, Connor.” It was painful and thrilling at the same moment. It felt like my stomach was emptying all vital organs through my cock – that’s how powerful a force it was. Cum landed on both our chests and my head. As I continued to jerk from the last few ejaculations Stevens let out a loud growl – again shaking the entire room, if not the entire building – and then shot a load much more powerful than mine. This strong man had cum three times recently and, yet, it seemed that he was still a bottomless pit of seamen. When his body finally stopped pumping out giant loads of cum he let go of our still hard cocks and my spent body fell into his chest. His wrapped his powerful arms around me and pulled me closer to him. I could feel his heart beating through his solid chest. I was completely worn out and needed rest – but I sensed he could have gone on for hours. Mr. Stevens allowed me to rest in his arms – with his warm muscles covering me on all sides. “That’s fine boy, you rest. Old man Stevens is here to take care of you. Don’t worry about a thing. Sleep if you want to – maybe you’ll even dream of me. But know that no dream will come close to the real thing, Connor. I am the answer to all your fantasies. I am here to bring you any pleasure you desire, my little boyfriend. I am here just for you.” And with those words filling my mind I fell asleep. Old Man Stevens – Part 4: Bud Plows Connor I slowly came out of a comatose-like state. Before I opened my eyes I was acutely aware of a strong sense of security. Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind I registered what this feeling that surrounded me was like - it was like being in my mother’s womb. I was surrounded by total warmth and my heartbeat was in rhythm with the stronger thumping that filled my ears and every part of my body. I instinctively knew there was a more powerful life force creating all these sensations in me - it was Mr. Stevens. His arms were still wrapped around me - I could feel the hardness of those biceps as they squeezed me gently, but firmly. I also felt the rock hard legs that supported me, the super sized chest that gave my upper body unbelievable comfort, and the still rigid massive cock that pulsed between my chest and Mr. Stevens’ stomach. In spite of a deep desire to not ever move from my place of muscle covered ecstasy, I attempted to push my body from the wall, I mean chest, which supported me. Mr. Stevens squeezed his arms slightly and I was crushed closer to his body. For a few seconds I could not breathe. I knew Mr. Stevens was toying with me - reminding me of the abilities that came with his improved body. As if I could ever forget. As he released his squeeze - a hold that didn’t come close to showing what his arms could really do - my mind was flooded with memories of all he had already done. I then began to dream of other feats of strength he could do and the sex games the two of us might play. My own cock pressed hard into his - and Mr. Stevens noticed. “Well, hello there sleepy head. It looks - and feels - like someone got a little ‘much needed’ rest. You slept hard for about 45 minutes. How do you feel little Connor?” asked the huge man. “Wonderful,” I said leaning slightly back and looking into his beautiful mature face. “I haven’t ever slept that hard. I think it’s because I felt so secure and satisfied. It’s pretty hard to explain, but I know I have never felt like this in my entire life.” “Well, Mr. Connor, that’s a feeling you are going to have from now on,” Stevens said with a big smile. “This big old man is here to protect and care for you. You don’t need to worry that pretty little head of yours about anything - ever again. While you were sleeping I began to make plans for us. You’ll break your lease and move in here with me - so I can make all of your greatest desires come true. Is that okay with you?” If what he was saying had not turned me on so much, I know I would have started crying like a small child. It was too much for my mind - not to mention my cock - to take at one moment. I worried that I was going to shoot my next load - just from hearing this man talk about fulfilling my fantasies. However, I immediately forced myself to calm down. I wanted to save my cum for some of the things my active imagination was sending to my brain. Mr. Stevens sensed that I had come close, again, to spewing like a geyser and that had I forced myself to wait for some reason. “Does the little man already have a job for his muscle protector?” Stevens asked with a very knowing grin. For some reason I immediately got shy. I don’t know where it came from. It was not caused by doubt that this man could do anything I asked. It also wasn’t that I didn’t have a million ideas of how he could show off. I believe it stemmed from the fact that I had nothing to give him in return - except my devotion. I somehow feared that might not be enough. Stevens seemed to read my mind and he said, “Connor. Listen to me. I had a crush on you the moment I stood in your doorway. Over the last few months my crush turned into love - a deep love. You have been so kind to me - even loving me when I was a weak and frail old man. And you are definitely part of the reason - if not the main reason that I am this way now. I don’t know if I will stay this way for a long time or if I am destined to be this way forever. I do know, however, that while I am like this I want to make you very happy. Don’t worry - while making you satisfied I will also be making myself extremely satisfied. And, if it's okay with you, when your small body needs a break from the workout these muscles are going to offer, I’ll just find someone like Rocky to entertain me for a while. But don’t ever doubt for a second that this muscle bear isn’t going to come home to you every night. I only have one lover, Connor - and he gives me all the love I need. It just that I know I’ll need a lot of muscle pounding sex and there is only a certain amount that your little body can take. How does all of this sound to you?” Mr. Stevens really didn’t need to ask that last question. He knew the answer already. It was sticking straight up like a piece of metal between us. I simply said, “You have already made me very happy, Mr. Stevens. I just hope I can return the favor somehow.” He brought his mouth to mine and gave me what can only be called as a passionate manly kiss - hard, rough, powerfully sexy, and earth shattering at the same time. I responded by pressing into his lips hard and letting my tongue explore every part of his inviting mouth. He moaned loudly as I kissed back. It gave me great pleasure to know that my kiss could make this giant weak - even for just a second. As I prolonged my kiss - and scraped my teeth lightly along his tongue in my mouth - Mr. Stevens got more excited. He wrapped his arms around me and, again, squeezed hard. I felt the power that I caused to swell up in him and that showed me that I would be able to give him a little in return for the satisfaction he brought to me. It was Mr. Stevens’ turn to come to the edge of no return and immediately stop. He grabbed my shoulders and pulled his face away from mine. I knew if we had continued to kiss I would have caused his cock to explode. It stood straight and hard like a mighty oak between our bodies and was a deep purple from the pressure building inside. “Kisses like that, little man, will get me to do anything in the world for you - and I mean anything,” Stevens said looking deep into my eyes. He then tilted his head back and let out a sound that seemed like a hundred lions growling at the same time. His chest was heaving strongly and I could tell he was trying to calm his body down. After a couple of minutes he let go of my shoulders - even with his hands gone it felt like his strong grip was still there. His breathing was returning to normal. His gaze fell to me and he said, “This big guy needs to do something to say thanks for that kiss, buddy. You just say the word and I’ll follow your command.” There was something I wanted, but I couldn?t say it easily. I was slightly embarrassed to ask - because I didn’t know how it could be done. I cast my gaze down - to avoid his eyes - and was immediately transfixed by the powerful muscles in his legs. He knew where I was looking and he tensed his quads. Ridges and veins popped up everywhere on his legs. My body actually rose a few inches. This must have pleased Mr. Stevens because he began to flex and un-flex his legs so my body went up and down - like I was on a ride at an amusement park. I heard him chuckle lightly as he watched my body rise and fall. He noticed I had something on my mind, but was having trouble saying it. “Looks to me that you have an idea, little Connor. But you seem a little scared to tell me.” He put two of his thick fingers underneath my chin and lifted my head so I was looking him in the face. “Tell old man Stevens what he can do for you. Don’t be shy. Let me know what you like Connor. I have some ideas for later - but right now I’d like to make some of your muscle dreams come true.” I paused for a few seconds and then said, “I’d like you to fuck me - but I know I won’t be able to take this whole thing in my ass.” I pointed to his monster cock, which had immediately sprung even more full throttle when I mentioned what I wanted. “I am not as big as Rocky - and it looked like he was having trouble accepting the whole length of that telephone pole.” Both of us were smiling at my description, but I could tell that Mr. Stevens understood my fears completely. “I would never want to hurt you, Connor,” he said. “I hope you know that. But I think you’re right. We need to think of a way that allows me to use some force - to give me some pleasure - but prevents me from gutting your insides completely. Let’s see here.” And with that Mr. Stevens looked around the room and was lost deep in thought. Suddenly he grabbed me at the waist, lifted me easily from his enormous legs, and stood me on the floor. “I think I have solved the problem,” he added as he stood and walked toward the bedroom. “Let’s see if this will work.” Stevens opened the door to the bedroom. The apartment building was pretty old, but was built very sturdy - with high ceilings and big solid, equally tall, doors. He pushed the door wider so all I saw was the edge of the door. Mr. Stevens took his big hand and knocked on the door. We both could tell that it was solid - all the way through - not like many doors today, that are built hollow. He took two fingers and seemed to be measuring the edge of the door. “It looks like this big door is almost four inches thick. That might just do, Connor. That might just do.” I was watching this all from the side angle. He was standing on one side of the door - with his right hand holding it firmly at the edge facing me. With his left hand he pushed his upright hard cock down and pressed the tip against the middle of the door. With one quick thrust of his crotch he shoved his muscled prick straight through the door. My mouth fell open from the shock of what he had just done. The sound was deafening and the view was fantastic. His stomach and thighs were up against one side of the solid door and his giant cock stuck straight out the other side covered in small pieces of the wood it had just destroyed. His display of power had turned us both on. His cock seemed to grow harder and larger - if that was even possible. My cock was, again, sticking straight up against my stomach. Mr. Stevens reached around the door and brushed the splinters of wood off his cock. “I think this might just work, Connor,” he said. “I have taken about four inches off of my huge piece - which means it is probably only about eight or nine inches long. I think you can handle that much man meat – don’t you?” He was looking at me and smiling. I literally ran over to the door as I said, “Yes sir!” When I got to the side where his cock was sticking out I immediately noticed a problem. If I turned around backed up to his cock it was going to hit me almost in the middle of my shoulder blades. Good for a massage maybe, but not for a good round of sex. Mr. Stevens had grown so much - he was probably close to seven feet and his powerful tree-trunk legs were very long. “Well I guess I should have bent my knees a little before making this glory hole with just my hard cock,” he said laughing. “Sorry about that, little man. Maybe you should pull that chair over here or I could just make another hole. The problem is I don’t want to compromise the strength of the door. When I start pounding your ass, too many holes might make this piece of wood split in the middle.” I quickly went over and dragged the chair, that had served as his throne earlier, over to the door. When I stood on the chair and turned around - bending my legs just a little - my ass was the perfect height for his giant cock. My legs began to shake with excitement, and a little anxiety, over the size of his prick. Mr. Stevens spit into his palm again - to ready his rod for action. After greasing his pole he leaned into the door and was able to reach around and grab my cock at the same time. He gently brought my body backwards - as he pulled his cock slightly out of the hole. I looked back and saw that just the large tip of his ‘telephone pole’ protruded. I jumped with excitement as I felt his hard head come up against my asshole. I relaxed my body and let his strong hand - wrapped around my cock and supporting me at the waist - do all the work. He pulled me onto his cock slowly and at the same time pushed his twelve-inch - now nine inch - pole into my ass. There was great pain at first. I cried out and he immediately stopped. I could tell he was worried about hurting me. “No!” I yelled through gritted teeth, “please don’t stop. No matter what, don’t stop.” I knew, deep down, that after the initial pain would come unmatched ecstasy. I wanted to feel as much of him inside me as I could - and I planned on taking whatever the hole in the door allowed. He began pushing again. I had seen the powerful thrusts of his crotch send the heavily muscled Rocky flying into the air - so I knew the gentle pushes he was using now were nowhere close to the full force this man possessed. When the head of his cock was fully in my ass I began to relax a little. Is still felt like someone was shoving a small car into me - but the pain was slowly going away. He pushed slightly harder - now that he was in - and I was relieved when my ass cheeks finally met the wood door. I didn’t know if I could take any more of him inside me - but then he pulled me a little harder into the wood and was able to press that log in still some more. My body was in pleasure overload. He had a strong grip on my cock, but allowed his fist to move up and down as he also slid his dick back and forth inside of me. He started pumping his cock and fist harder and quicker. His breathing began to get very heavy and that made me realize he was enjoying this even more than me - if that was possible. Suddenly Mr. Stevens became like a wild animal. He pushed hard with his entire body up against the door and, at the same time, pulled my body tightly into the wood. The force from this mans body caused the door to pull completely away from the frame. I heard the metal hinges either rip in two or completely break away from the wall. At the same time Mr. Stevens leaned back - causing my feet to leave the chair and, yet, his monster cock and muscled hand kept me firmly in place. Mr. Stevens stepped into the middle of the room - knocking the chair out of the way. He was thrusting his cock in and out of my ass like a man crazy with desire. The pleasure it was giving me was indescribable. I knew it was doing the same thing for him. Finally, Mr. Stevens shoved his crotch hard into the door - the jolt made me think the piece of wood would break into a million tiny pieces. Loads of cum shot from his hard prick into my ass and his, now familiar ear drum-shattering, growl filled the room. The entire door shook violently but his strong hand - not to mention his giant cock in my ass - kept me in place. When I felt his third full glob of cum strongly shooting into my ass, I could hold my own load no longer. My cock exploded and I released cum into the room - sending it a good four feet from me. Again, it was like a stream of jizz - not just a bunch of small jerks. It took a few minutes for my body to stop bucking on the piece of wood this giant man was still holding. Finally, I could tell both of us were returning from that far away place a man’s mind and body goes when he is cumming. I could feel his giant rod softening in my ass, but his firm grip on mine caused me to remain hard. Mr. Stevens pulled his semi-hard cock out of me and released the pressure from his hand - allowing my body to slide down the door to the floor. At the same time he stood up straight and the door helped me steady myself from the exertion caused by the releasing my latest load. I stepped away from the door - wobbly - like a man disembarking a rocking ship. I grabbed hold of the chair that had been pushed away and quickly sat down - turning back to look at Stevens. “This should give you a thrill, little man,” he said from behind the door. All I could see were two big hands holding the door at its sides and the bottom half of two muscled legs below. Suddenly the solid door snapped in two perfectly in the middle. There was no warning - no sound of effort from Mr. Stevens. Using just his arms he had caused that giant door to break into two halves from top to bottom. Small pieces of wood were sent flying into the room landing on and all around me. Mr. Stevens stood there grinning broadly as he held the two heavy pieces of door in each hand - his muscled body gleaming in between. My cock, which had begun to rest, shot back to full mast and I thought I might shoot another load. The sight of that door splitting and his magnificent body appearing sent me into muscle worship overload. I could not even begin to imagine having the strength to shove my cock through a solid door or to snap that same door in two with my hands as if it were a small twig. I immediately noticed that breaking the door had made Mr. Stevens? chest and arms swell larger than they already were - causing my mouth to fall open in disbelief. Mr. Stevens turned and rested the two parts of the door against the wall. “Little man - that round of sex and my display of power on this puny door has made me crazy with a desire to show off more,” Mr. Stevens said, acting like an excited young boy. I could tell he was getting off on his own strength - almost as much as I was. Sure he wanted to show off for me - but I also think he wanted to blow his own mind too. “You sit right there. I just got a great idea for a way to test these arms. You are going to get the show of your life.” And with that he disappeared into the kitchen. I was a little foggy from the recent pounding I received from his giant cock - so I couldn’t focus on what he was saying. I did, however, hear him rummaging through what I thought was pots and pans. He returned to the dining room with something hidden behind his back. He had a big grin on his face. By this point I was fully alert and very excited about his upcoming show for me. My tired cock was even starting to get some life back. Mr. Stevens pulled his hand from behind him and revealed three deep black cast iron pans - the kind I used to see my grandmother use in her kitchen. I knew those things were very heavy and extremely thick. Each pan was over fifteen inches wide at the top and about eight inches deep. They each probably weighed over ten pounds. I was shocked to see that Mr. Stevens’ big hand could palm one of the pans easily at the top - his spread fingers completely covered it. I knew that one pan would be had for me to lift and, yet, here was Mr. Stevens placing all three pans inside each other and holding them all by their handles. He easily lifted the pans up in the air together. He looked at the pans and then at me, saying, “I think this feat will be easier if they are all one pan.” I didn’t understand at first - but then I saw him squeeze his fist tightly around the handles and I heard something that sounded like boulders being crushed. He grabbed the side of the pans with his other hand and turned the handle side towards me. My cock, again, shot straight up when I noticed that he had molded the iron handles together - making them one. I could see the grooves in the iron created by his large thick fingers. I could not believe the power he possessed in just one hand. “And now for the fun part,” he added. Mr. Stevens grabbed the handles of the pans again - holding them so the inside of the pan on top faced toward him. Mr. Stevens then raised his other giant hand making a fist and, in a flash, slammed it through the bottoms of all three pans. It was so quick that I almost missed it. His giant fist stuck out of the bottom of the last pan and Mr. Stevens made it look as easy as sending your fist through a paper bag. The iron was busted and bent back - it had offered no resistance to his muscle propelled hand. He looked at me smiling and I could tell even he was impressed by how easy this had been. His cock was rigid with excitement. He pulled his fist back through the iron pans causing some pieces to bend the other way - back towards him. He then grabbed both sides of the pans with his monstrous paws - spreading his hands and thumbs across the back and insides of the three heavy pieces of iron. As veins appeared up and down his forearms, biceps, and chest I realized that he was bending the pans in on themselves. It was obvious that this was taking little effort. I remembered easily bending thin foil pie pans this way - and here Mr. Stevens made this seem just as easy. After he had the sides of the pans folded together - he held them by the handles and ran his other thumb and forefinger along the crease he had made. It looked like he was smoothing a couple of folded sheets of paper. I had to keep telling myself that he was molding iron like it was nothing. He then rolled the long flattened piece of iron into a short tube. I didn’t know whether to stare at the veins and muscles popping up all over his arms or to focus on how easily his strong fingers could shape three thick pieces of iron crushed together. The sound of iron screeching was the only thing that reminded me how real this show of strength was - and even with the sound it was still hard to believe. Mr. Stevens finally took the tube he had made and easily covered it with his huge hands. He started compressing the iron with his hands in the same way a cook would shape ground beef for a hamburger. After a few minutes he opened his palm and revealed a relatively smooth ball of iron that was slightly bigger than a ball from a pool table. I could not fathom the power that had to exist in his arms to crush three large cast iron pans into the size of one pool ball. He had threatened to smash Mr. Jenkins’ car into the size of a suitcase and at this point I knew he could do it. He walked closer to me and held the ball of iron out towards me on his palm. I could tell he wanted to pass it on to me - but I also saw a knowing gleam in his eye. I brought one of my palms up to let him drop the ball into my hand. I was expecting something that weighed as much as a pool ball - easily held in one hand, but what my hand accepted was something that weighed over thirty pounds. The weight caused my hand to drop quickly and the ball fell - landing directly on Mr. Stevens’ foot with a loud thud. It then rolled off to the side. I immediately panicked and looked from his foot up to his face. Mr. Stevens could see the fear and worry in my face. He quickly said, “It was a little heavier than you thought, huh, little man?” I nodded quickly. “And you thought that heavy piece of iron could hurt this muscle giant, didn’t you?” I immediately felt my face turn red from embarrassment - how stupid of me to think that anything could hurt Mr. Stevens. I simply nodded again. “I hope you are beginning to see, Connor, that it is going to take a lot to hurt this old man. I don’t know what happened to me - but I keep getting surprised by how strong I am. Demolishing those iron pans didn’t even make me break a sweat. Yesterday, I probably would have keeled over if you had asked me to try and lift one. I’m telling you, little man, life is certainly going to be different for both of us. It’s simply amazing what a little mixture of your blood with my blood can do.” Mr. Stevens stopped before he finished his sentence and there was a look on his face that signaled he was having a major revelation. He was suddenly very excited. “What is it, Mr. Stevens?” I asked. “Connor, you need to get dressed. Hell, I need to find something I can wear. We have to go back to the hospital. Come on get moving,” he said looking around the room. I actually think he was trying to find something that might cover his enormous body. “Why, Mr. Stevens? Are you feeling bad again?” I quickly asked very concerned. “No, little man, I’m fine - well, actually, better than fine,” he said laughing. “It’s you! If mixing our blood did this to me then we better get back down there and put some of my blood into you - so you can grow, as well. Why didn’t we think about this before? I guess we were too busy seeing what this old man’s muscled body could do.” He was right ? I hadn’t even thought about how our blood mixed together in my body might have the same reaction. I got excited for a moment about the idea of growing - like Mr. Stevens. “Come on Connor. I bet I can find something that might, at least, cover up this massive dick. Maybe we can make me somewhat presentable for going out in public,” he said, and Mr. Stevens started to go back to his bedroom. “Wait,” I said loudly and not moving. “Just a second, please,” I added looking down. “I, uh, I think no, I know I don’t want to go back. I’m sorry if that disappoints you. I think I like it more just the way it is. I’d really like to see what this is like - just as we are - at least for a while. This day has been magical. No, it’s been more than that - it has made me feel more alive than I have ever felt before. I realize that I have felt safer, more protected, more taken care of, and more loved being with you today than at any other time in my life - and I don’t want that to end. I like you lifting me like I weigh nothing at all. I like you coming up with ideas for showing off your strength - not to mention your body - for me. I also like having sex with a guy much bigger than me. And, finally, I like being around someone who is superman - just as he is. I realize you might want someone big like you so sex could be unbridled and wild - but maybe you could find some muscle boy toy for that. I’m positive that for right now I’d like to stay your ‘little man.’ I’d also like to see if I could some day work up to accepting all of your giant cock in my ass. I hope this is all okay with you Mr. Stevens.” Mr. Stevens was just standing there staring at me. I couldn’t read his reaction at first, but then I noticed a tear leave his eye and slowly slide down his right cheek. It was an odd sight - seeing this nude monstrous muscle man crying. Soon many other tears followed. My attention was soon pulled away from his face and drawn to the rising ‘telephone pole’ between his legs - that had been semi-relaxed up to this point. His cock quickly became fully hard and twitched in excitement. “Connor. You have made me the happiest man in the world. I love you just the way you are. I only thought you might want to grow and I would never prevent that from happening for you. I do want to be your muscle protector. I want to explore with you all the things this new improved body of mine can do. I want to make us both cum many times a day just by destroying something with these hands - or lifting something incredibly heavy - or by finding other exciting ways to test these huge muscles. And there is no one else I’d rather do those things with than you, my little boyfriend. This old muscle man is all yours. I promise that I will continue to make all of your wildest muscle fantasies come true - for as long as I can. And if you continue to give me kisses like you did earlier today then there is nothing in the world you will ever desire and not have immediately - I promise. I only ask one big favor, Connor.” I was shocked this giant man felt like he needed to ask me for a favor - he should just tell me what he wanted - but I said, “Anything, Mr. Stevens. You know that.” “I only ask that you don’t call me Mr. Stevens anymore Connor,” he said wrapping his arms around me and lifting me from the floor. And before he kissed me hard he added, “Call me Bud, please.” Old Man Stevens – Part 5: Bud Gets a Roommate and Lover So, if you don’t know about Bud Stevens, then you don’t know about the biggest and strongest older man that has ever walked the earth. Bud is 82 years old and a blood transfusion from me did something incredible to his body - now he’s some kind of muscle god, oh yeah, and my boyfriend. That still sounds strange, but there it is. I, Connor O’Leary, am in love with an older man (I’m only thirty five) and my life has changed completely in the last twenty-four hours - after Mr. Stevens’ incredible transformation. Let’s see if I can remember all that happened right after both of us agreed that I’d stay small, not getting some of his blood, and having him stay as my muscle lover and protector. Bud kissed me hard as he held my smaller body off the floor easily in his big arms. I kissed the giant back passionately, as he squeezed the breath out of me, because I had just watched him hold a grown man in place with just his forefinger, put his fist through a solid wall as if it had been paper, shove his hard cock through a thick oak door, and crumple three solid cast iron skillets like they were sheets of aluminum foil. As my tongue explored his mouth and attempted to give him immense pleasure I began to fantasize about all the ways we could begin to explore the limits of his strength. My hard cock was pressing against his raging, hard, tree-trunk-sized dick sticking up between us. I finally pulled my face away in order to get some air flowing into my lungs and to ask a question. Mr. Stevens, obviously disappointed that I stopped kissing him, squeezed my trapped body even tighter to show me how he felt. “I can’t breathe, big guy!” I said in a very strained voice. “Sorry about that, Connor, I still can’t get a handle on how strong I am,” Bud said releasing the hold his arms had on my body and I slid back down to the floor. My face ended up smack between his two massive slabs of pectoral muscles and the fat head of his cock pressed against my chest. If Bud hadn’t kept his forearms across my back, the force of his raging hard-on would have shoved me to the floor. “I was hardly squeezing you at all, little man. I gotta remember that when I go to hug you. My excitement could get the best of me and I’d squeeze your insides out like a tube of toothpaste.” His words scared me immediately and I looked up at him between the two mountains of muscle on either side of my face. I could barely see his teasing, devilish smile because of the shelves of hard flesh above me - and his chest was relaxed! I could still not fathom just how big this man had become. He must have seen the awe in my face and wanted to really shock me, because he tensed his pecs together and my face was immediately compressed between two stone-like walls of muscle. The feeling was both exciting and frightening at the same time. It was a huge turn on because I felt the freakish power that existed in his chest, and it was frightening because it felt like two bulldozers trying to press liquid from my head. “Yoeur gomma mmashh mii fasse,” I screamed into the tightened valley between his pecs, my voice muffled. “What’ s that, Connor?” he asked, “I couldn’t hear you. It sounded like you had a ton of super muscle pushed against your face.” With that, Bud relaxed his chest and let my body fall backwards slightly. He continued to suport me with his huge arms, though. Mr. Stevens was looking down at me and laughing. “What?” he asked when he stopped chuckling, “Didn’t you like feeling some of the power in your boyfriend’s body? You don’t like it when I show off what I can do?” “You know I do, Bud,” I said smiling, “but I think I’ll like it a lot more when someone else or some big object is used to test your strength. I think I’ll reserve the right, as your boyfriend, to simply worship you all the time.” “I like the sound of that, little man.” Bud’s smile grew bigger. “Both the idea of demolishing some big, heavy thing and having you by my side to appreciate what these muscles can do. Pleasing you is my main goal, Connor.” “Well, my muscle stud,” I began and noticed that it pleased Mr. Stevens very much, “I’d like to begin by moving in with you so I can be around your huge body all the time. How does that sound?” “Like heaven, Mr. O’Leary, like heaven,” Bud answered. He removed his arms from my backside and allowed me to step back a little. “Great. I’ll get started now,” I said as I walked to his kitchen. Mr. Stevens followed me, and I saw that he had to come through the doorway with one of his shoulders in front of him or he would have taken out part of the frame on either side. This made my still-hard cock twitch a few times. I grabbed the thick city-phonebook. “I’ll call the same company I used to move to this building.” A big hand grabbed the phone book from me. I turned to look at Mr. Stevens. He held the book long ways about a foot from my face with his big palms wrapped around either end. He then simply pulled the book apart, tearing it down the middle as if it were a piece of Wonder bread. I could not believe that he didn’t need to bend the book back and forth like circus strongmen used to do. He easily ripped the fucking huge phonebook apart in one quick pull with his hands, leaving it in two clean pieces. Then, just to prove a point, he placed the two pieces together, turned them sideways and repeated the strength task, as if it were nothing. Mr. Stevens tossed the four even thick pieces of the torn phonebook on the counter beside me. It was at that moment that I realized my mouth was wide open and drool was sliding down my chin. His muscle show had astonished me that much. Bud took one of his big forefingers and ran it up the trail of liquid flowing from my lower lip. He then slid the thick finger into his mouth and sucked on it loudly. “Mmmmm, tastes good,” he said looking at me, “just like muscle induced drool candy. I like that my body can make you leak all types of liquids, Connor. Just think what I’m going to cause your body to do when we get outside and see what these muscles can really do - unencumbered by the walls of this building. Yeah, Connor, I bet even the thought of that is causing spurts of cum to rush to the end of your cock.” He was right, of course, but I didn?t have time to contemplate it. Mr. Stevens bent slightly down and wrapped one of his hands beneath my butt. He lifted me into the air, making sure my head didn’t hit the ceiling. He held me at his side like a mother would hold an infant. A feeling of security, pleasure, and lust flowed through my body immediately. Mr. Stevens then made the juices in my body boil even more because he raised his other arm into a monstrous flex of his biceps. He brought the peak of muscle-covered rock near my face. “This, my little friend, is the only moving company you will ever need. I don’t think you’ve grasped that this one arm could probably lift the entire company truck filled with all of your furniture and the team of weaker men sent to lift things in pairs or groups. There’s nothing over in your apartment that’s going to give me even the slightest trouble to move. I’ll be done in less than an hour. That moving company of yours is going to take a full day, Connor. Hell, this old man of yours, could easily rip out the counters, the bathtub, and the toilet if you like them, boy. You just tell your muscleman what you want and I’ll move it over here for you. I promise you won’t be disappointed with the Stevens Moving Company. We guarantee customer satisfaction in more ways than one. First of all, we move everything in the buff, so you get to see every muscle as it lifts and carries. Does that excite the customer?” Stevens looked down at my cock, which had begun to leak pre-cum. “Yeah, I thought so. And secondly, we can easily take care of anything you won’t need moved to your new place, and we let you watch as we destroy it. My guess is that you’d like to see these arms demolish that refrigerator of yours, now wouldn?t you, Mr. O’Leary? I mean you could sell it if you want to, but I think you’d rather skip the money you’d make just to watch this old man tear it apart like I did that phonebook.” We both glanced down at the counter. I could see we were both imagining how easily his hands would tear apart all parts of that stainless steel fridge across the hall. “That’s just the beginning of our services, Mr. O’Leary. So, what do you say? Do you still want to call a group of semi-large guys to come over and move you or do you want your old man Stevens to do the job?” I swallowed hard before I answered. I was now staring at the bulging mass of biceps muscle still flexed in front of my face. Stevens began to make the peak bounce slightly up and down. My cock twitched every time the peak of his arm shot higher. Just when I thought the muscle could not grow any more, Bud would pump his arm and the peak seemed to expand before my eyes. “Maybe we could invite the moving guys over just so you could show off,” I said softly because I was in some kind of low-grade muscle trance. My comment pleased Bud to no end. He bounced my body up and down a few times as he brought his flexed arm down and put an open palm at my chest. I noticed immediately that his large hand stretched across my entire upper body. He tilted my body with his arm so it was resting on his outstretched palm. He then quickly brought his other hand around to my crotch. His thumb pressed into my abs and his fingers shot up between my legs and around part of my ass. I realized what he was doing right as he pressed my body into the air above his head. He was looking up at me. “Connor, my love, I actually think you get into muscle more than me and I thought that was impossible,” Bud said, laughing and then effortlessly lowered my body almost to his face. He then pressed me back into the air. “You’d like to see the look on the faces of that moving crew as they gazed on my monstrous body, wouldn’t you?” I nodded quickly, because I couldn’t even begin to speak. I was too focused on his gigantic arms as he pressed me up and down. It was as if I weighed only as much as air. Bud tightened his hand at my crotch, causing my dick to pulse with excitement. He knew that the display of strength from his arms was a huge turn on for me and that I wouldn’t be able to hold out very long if he kept lifting me up and down. Thankfully, Bud had mercy on me - for the moment. He brought his arms to the side and lowered my body so my feet finally touched the floor. He let go of my crotch after he gave it one last squeeze. I had to stand there motionless for a few seconds so I wouldn’t ejaculate. “You need to put on some weight, Connor. Your entire body didn’t even give these guns a slight pump. We’re gonna have to find something that can give my massive arms a little resistance. I’m not so sure, however, that it is possible to get these fuckers bigger, what do you think?” he askecd, and with his last statement, Mr. Stevens raised both of his arms into a mind-blowing double biceps flex. Even though, by this point, I had been around the man’s arms for a little while, I was still overwhelmed at the height and the bulk of his twin peaks. I could tell the superman was flexing hard - just to impress me. The skin on the bulging boulders in front of me was tight and tanned. Thick veins criss-crossed over the massive, triple-layered tops of his biceps. They were so broad that I could have placed a tablecloth over one of them and had room for two full place settings. The big man stood there staring at me as I became completely transfixed by the size of his guns. He tightened his fists and made the peaks burst into more layers and stretch higher than before. More veins blossomed over his entire arms and they both seemed to pulse with enough power that he could have stopped two elephants with nothing more than a tap from his hands. My whole body craved to see what those two arms could do. I was ready to cream in my pants just from staring at the fucking control he had over his arm muscles. It was obvious that he could make any part of his upper or lower arm ripple just by concentrating on the titanic muscle underneath. Suddenly, as if he could read my mind, Stevens caused his arm muscles to bulge more - starting at his wrists and working down his forearms, since his guns were up in the air, and then across his huge flexed biceps and triceps. It resembled a stadium of people doing the wave - and with each ripple of muscle I moved closer to releasing my building fountain of cum. Just when I was about to move to the point of no return, Bud lowered his arms and smiled at me, fully aware of the reaction he caused in my body. . “Looks like these huge bazookas got you close to the edge, isn’t that right my little muscle-pup?” He chuckled loudly at the end of his question. “Yes sir,” I replied meekly, as I tried to prevent myself from shooting my building load. “Well, I’ll leave you alone for a few seconds so you can calm down. I think if we get you close to spewing a few times, and then let you rest, when we finally make you shoot it will be the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever experienced. What do you think of that?? Stevens wasn’t moving at all - he knew even the slightest motion of his muscled body would cause me to lose control. “I’m not sure I can last that long,?”I whispered, “and I think it might put so much strain on my body that I might have a heart attack.” “Oh, I think you’ll do just fine, boy,? Stevens said laughing. “Come on. I think I want to finish something I started earlier.” With that, the giant man started out of the dining room over to the wall where he had put his fist through - busting through as if it were a paper bag. He stared through the hole into the other room for a minute. “This wall was no problem for these powerful fists.” “Bud,” I said, causing him to look towards me. “Can I ask you a question?” The big man smiled. “You just don’t get it, do you, Connor?” Stevens turned his entire massive body facing me. “You can ask me anything. You can even ask me to do anything. I am here just for you, man. You are the reason I’ve become this huge muscled stud - so I want to make you completely happy. And that makes me happy in return. So, go ahead and shoot with that question.? “What does it feel like?” I asked, overwhelmed with a sense of freedom caused by his open invitation. A look of deep concentration swept across Bud’s face and he paused for a few drawn out seconds. I could tell he was thinking about my question seriously before answering. “You know that adrenaline rush that athletes talk about when they are about to compete in some kind of tournament or that rush that comes over your body when you are on an exhilarating amusement park ride? My body feels like that all the time. It’s hard to explain, but I feel jacked-up constantly - like I’ve had gallons of caffeine or something. Every muscle in my body pulses like electricity is shooting into it. And the crazy part is that I am aware that I can move every muscle in the same way you can subconsciously move your hand. That?s a real jolt to my mind and body. I can actually focus on any muscle and cause it to ripple or tense. It’s a bizarre feeling, but it also makes me realize that I have some fucking incredible control over all this bulk. Right now I’m focusing on my right quad muscle.” Bud continued to look at me as he spoke, but my gaze shot to his upper right leg. I watched as the monstrous muscles of his right thigh blasted into an incomprehensible display of power. There were so many ridges of sinew and valleys of tensed flesh exploding in that one area of his body that doctors could have spent years studying and learning what the perfect human form is like. Michelangelo would have creamed in his pants when looking at this leg as a model for some painting or sculpture. “Yeah, Connor, it’s pretty nice to be able to control any part of your body that way. But there’s a lot more than that, my friend. There’s a certain kind of awareness that comes with a body like this - an awareness that changes how you approach life. I’m not sure how to explain it, but I’ll try. I don’t know if you’ve ever been to hear any kind of motivational speaker, but I remember one guy I went to see telling the audience a story. The story had to do with learning how to adapt to situations. The speaker was making the point that most people beat their head up against the wall when they encounter a situation that they can?t change and he was saying that what we really need to do is learn to adapt or change our perspective. Anyway, he used this analogy - he told us to imagine that we were walking on a path and came upon a giant boulder covering the path. The boulder is as big as a small house. The speaker said that you don’t give up, turn around and go home, no - you must learn to adapt by either climbing over the boulder or traveling off the beaten path and going around the boulder. This was the speaker’s way of showing how we, as humans, should adjust our perspective when we meet a challenge. Well, Connor, I realize now that I am not a normal human - it is a feeling that comes from the bottom of my being. I realize that the boulder doesn’t have to make me adapt at all - as a matter of fact, I can adapt the boulder in any way I want. I can take one of my powerful fists and break that boulder into a pile of pebbles with a few punches. Or I can easily lift that boulder and toss it into the next county. There’s something that comes with that knowledge – it’s more than confidence or self-assurance. It’s something akin to what the Greeks must have thought Zeus or Poseidon felt like. I take things for granted that you see as impossible. When you look at the huge, thick door of a bank vault you see something that protects what’s inside, something that would take dynamite to open. But when I look at the door, I see something that will give one of my arms a mediocre workout. I know, instinctively, that I could easily rip the door open, as if it were made of cardboard. Again, it’s not cockiness, Connor, it’s just an inner awareness. If a gate had a padlock on it, you’d either leave it alone or attempt to pick the lock. I’d just pinch the lock between my thumb and forefinger and crush it without much effort.” Bud had moved into some ‘other world’ place as he spoke. I was completely present in the moment with a raging hard-on from his description of what he felt. I could only slightly fathom what he was talking about. This kind of inner power - his awareness of what his body was capable of doing seemed like science fiction to me. Even though I had seen what his muscles were able to do, I still grasp the almost limitlessness of his strength. My entire body was like a huge firecracker and each time he spoke the spark of my fuse got closer to igniting the inevitable explosion. I also knew, instinctively, that Mr. Stevens, was fully aware of how his words were affecting me. He was determined to bring me to the brink of ejaculation - by only describing his abilities - and then he intended to stop, to give me a chance to rest. He was still planning to cause my eventual release to be the biggest I have ever felt. I knew that no matter what I said or did he would have his way. There was no boulder big enough to prevent this man from getting what he wanted. He didn’t have to adapt in any way, the world adapted to his muscles and to his strength. I began to pray that his mercy would be swift and that he would allow me to cum soon. “There?s more Connor,” he said, smiling at me, “if you care to hear.” He knew the answer before he even asked the question. I simply nodded my head and thought about my grandmother’s naked body to take my mind away from all thoughts that would cause the floodgates of my cock to open and spew forth. “Yeah, little man, I thought you could handle more. This muscle god before you is going to reward your devotion in a big way. You are going to have the chance to live out every muscleman fantasy that has ever crept into that beautiful head of yours. You’re going to have to come up with new fantasies once we fulfill all your dreams and you realize my full potential. And I think that we’ll have a fucking fun time getting to that point. We’ll even seek out other people that have muscle fantasies and make them happy, how about that Connor? Would you like to become this superhero’s sidekick and go out to make other grown men happier than they ever thought possible?” “Yes sir.” That was all I could say. It made the muscle master in front of me smile even more than before. “You see, Connor, that’s another part of the answer to your question concerning what it feels like to be this huge and this strong. I know immediately how my body impacts anyone near me. I don’t care if a guy is gay or straight; the first thing that happens to most guys when they get around me is that their dick shrivels up. No, it doesn’t get hard like yours did, Connor. You’re a different kind of guy and I’ll address you later, but the first thing that happens to most men is they realize how powerless they are around me. I don’t say this to you with any kind of cocky attitude, I’m just telling you what happens. Its just part of Darwin’s theory of evolution - the bigger animals usually overpower the smaller ones. It happened with Rocky and Mr. Jenkins. Both men became like limp spaghetti noodles as soon as they saw me. The straight UPS man’s fear immediately turned into desire and he wanted the muscle beast in front of him to overpower him and fuck his brains out. I was hoping I would be done with him before you got home, but that didn’t happen, did it?” “Rocky’s reaction was to submit to the bigger and stronger man in front of him. I actually think he’ll be back often, because he seemed to really like my muscled cock up his ass. Maybe he wasn’t as straight as he pretended to be - or maybe he just feels dominated by the stronger of the species. Mr. Jenkins was different. He simply lost control of all bodily functions when he came in contact with all of my muscle. I won’t lie; I wanted to scare the man. I wanted to scare him in a big way. I wanted to make sure he remembered forever, from now on, who was the boss - or the alpha male - in the building. What pleased me the most was the fact that Jenkins couldn’t prevent his little cock from getting hard when I held him in place with one finger. Sure, he pissed all over himself, but his cock also shot as hard as a two-by-four. I’m tickled pink when I imagine him downstairs unwillingly beating off thinking about my body. Yeah, Connor, that’s one of the best feelings from having this body - what it does to other grown men and women. I love the idea that my biceps can make a man hard just from one glance. That kind of power over people is impressive - as long as I don’t abuse it. That’s where you come in, Connor. What gives me the most pleasure - and what can make my cock get harder than anything - is you. Sure, you are like other men and feel a certain powerlessness as soon as you came in contact with me, but then there’s something much deeper and more powerful that I feel from you. You long for something so much more than sex - as Rocky did. Yes, you want the muscle stud to fuck you, but you also want me to show you what the muscles can do. You get off on my strength and much as you get off on my body. And you know, deep down in your soul, that I get a rush from showing off my strength for your enjoyment. We are tied together in a way that no other guy could even come close to matching. We both know that I want to please you more than I want to do anything else in the world. One favorable glance from you can light up my entire day - and one disapproving look can make me become immobile. I can’t explain it, but you mean more to me that anything in the world. I know it’s love, but I also believe it has something to do with the blood transfusion. We are intertwined more than lovers - we are part of each other. I am connected to you for making me this way, but you are also connected to me because I embody everything you have ever dreamed of. You see, Connor, I know that you loved me even before the change happened. I loved you, too. We both wanted someone like Rocky - big and strong - but, God decided to bless us with more. I am a huge muscle god because of your blood, but more because you desired an older muscle daddy to come take care of you. And I desired a younger man to take care of - specifically; I fell in love with you and wanted to protect you, because you loved me so much. Am I right Connor?” Tears began to stream down my face. There were too many feelings swimming around inside my body to even begin to focus on one. My cock was aching because it was so hard. My heart was beating harder because of Mr. Stevens’ words. My mind was racing from the perfect, massive chest that flared out in front of me to the idea that Mr. Stevens wanted to take care of me. Ultimately, all of these emotions and feelings were too much for my normal body. My knees became as light as feathers and my body began to sink towards the ground. It was like a slow motion movie as I lost all control of my muscles and I began to faint. I was still coherent enough to register that Bud’s massive body moved as fast as lightning. It was as if he knew what was coming. Suddenly his massive arms were at my back and behind my knees and he was easily lifting my limp body into the air. The feeling of his rock hard arms against my body made me even dizzier. I shut my eyes to gain some kind of equilibrium. After a few seconds of darkness and silence, I opened my eyes and feasted on the beautiful smiling face of Mr. Stevens. “That’s a little bit of what if feels like, Connor,” Stevens said. “Thank you.” That was all I could answer. “You’re welcome,” Stevens replied as he brought his mouth to mine and kissed me with an exploring tongue. I had never felt any feeling as powerful as this moment. I was sure that the only thing that came close was the bond that I had with my mother the moment after being born. The security of my muscle god’s arms matched the comfort of my mother’s loving embrace or her warm womb - I couldn’t tell which was closer. I only knew that I was completely happy and totally secure. We finally finished kissing and he pulled his face from mine, but continued to stare at me. “I believe we came in here to finish a task you had begun,” I said, staring at the big man holding me. “I’d like to see what the task was.” “Your wish is my command,” Bud replied. He then set me down on the ground, making sure I was able to stand on my own. He was careful to place me on the floor away from the wall and I instantly realized he was going to continue where he had left off when Jenkins was there. “I really meant what I said about an archway here. Let’s see how I can make the process move quickly.” Bud placed his left hand on the wall in front of him. He knocked a few times, on the wall, with his right knuckles. I didn’t hear what he obviously noticed when knocking. Without warning, Bud brought his right fist back, even with his shoulder, and then sent it flying forward through the wall creating a perfect hole a few inches from the one he had made earlier. When he brought his arm back from the hole I was able to glance in and see through to the next room. He waited just a few seconds and then sent his fist back through the wall a few inches from the hole he had just made. Bud continued to do the same until he had made a dotted line across and down, in the form of a wider arch, along the wall. When he was done, he stepped back even with me, and we both looked at the row of holes punched through the wall that went from the present opening into the other room further into the wall, turning to go down t the floor. I marveled immediately at how it looked like some kind of perforated paper cutout that could be separated by a simple push of your finger. Bud had made the perfect arch he had envisioned for entrance into the other room. I began to fantasize about the next step to his plan and my cock grew hard again. “Remember the ‘cut out’ dolls your sister used to play with as a child and the clothes that she could punch out to dress them up? Well, this is just like that!” Bud said pointing towards the wall. ?”Watch, I’ll show you what I mean.” Stevens brought his right index finger up to the center of the wall in front of him. It was directly in the middle of the arch of holes he had made with his fist. He took his finger and pressed against the wall near the center of all the holes his powerful fist had made. I watched as he pressed slightly with just one finger. I had already seen what power that one forefinger had, holding back Mr. Jenkins and flicking the arm off of a chair, but nothing prepared me for what came next. The entire wall within the holes his fist had made suddenly collapsed onto the floor. It was like his finger broke through the page of your sister’s coloring book and collapsed the cutout figure. The wall was nothing compared to the strength in Bud’s finger. When the dust settled, I saw a semi-perfect archway into the other room. “I’ll call a carpenter tomorrow and ask him to bring some molding to place around the archway. I’ll tell him not to bring a hammer because this finger can push the nails in easily,” Bud was again smiling as he spoke to me and held up a forefinger. My mouth was still wide open from the display of power of his fist and finger. “Maybe I’ll bend a few of his tools - like a wrench or crowbar - just to get him excited. What do you think, Connor?” “I, uh, umm, I think that, umm, is . . . a fine idea,” I said, trying to recover from the rush that came over my body when Bud pushed the wall down with just his finger. “I think we probably need to take another short rest - to give your cock another break. Am I right, Connor?” Bud asked teasingly. “Yes sir,” I said quickly. I then froze for a moment, so I could take a break from his display of strength. I wanted to give my body a pause, so it would be able to wait out the ejaculation that Stevens anticipated from his conversation about his muscled body. “Can I ask you one more question, Bud?” I could tell he liked me using his name with my question. He smiled at my question and at my quizzical face. “Of course, Connor, he replied. “How strong are you?” I asked. This made the big man smile broadly. We both had anticipated this conversation. “How strong do you wish me to be?” he asked smiling at me. This question caught me off guard. My body was covered in a rush of anticipation and excitement. I began to form my well-thought out answer. I wanted Mr. Stevens to know how important he was to me. I smiled a little devilish smile and answered clearly. “I wish you to have unlimited power,” I replied. My answer caused Bud to shake in excitement. At the same time, there was a pounding at the door. We heard a loud voice yell. “Open up. It’s the police. We’ve heard a complaint about the noise,” a deep voice ordered. Old Man Stevens – Part 6: Bud Entertains the Cops Neither Bud nor I immediately moved after hearing the police knock on the door. Someone had obviously complained about the noise the big guy had created when he was putting his fist through the wall to make a new and improved archway into the den. We both knew it was Jenkins, the man who lived in the apartment below, that had called the cops. I began to get excited about what feats of strength Bud might perform to get back at Jenkins. Earlier, he had said that he might fold Jenkins’ car up to the size of a suitcase - now that would be fun to watch. The police banged on the door again and I was brought back from my muscleman fantasies to the present moment. It dawned on me that Bud wasn’t too concerned about Jenkins right now; it was pretty obvious that there would be tons of time for payback later. At this moment, however, the monstrous guy in front of me was looking in my direction and smiling broadly. “This could be fun,” he said laughing, causing my cock to shoot completely hard again. “You answer the door and call me in when you need some back up. Make sure you watch their reaction when I walk in. Remember what I said before, about how men first feel completely powerless when they see me, but then it quickly starts moving towards lust or a desire to worship my body? Watch these guys go through the stages of shock and desire just from being around your old man Stevens, here. You’ll see how these muscles make any grown man lose control. I’ll be in the den, just call me when you are ready.” My mind was racing like I was on speed. I couldn’t begin to fathom what seeing Mr. Stevens walk into the hallway was going to do to these police officers. I suddenly cared only about watching how my muscled, older boyfriend could make men desire his body and beg for feats of strength. Somehow, I knew watching other men ‘get off’ from being around Bud was going to excite me even more than I already was - it was like I was a kid sharing some incredible dessert with my best friends. I was ready to see other men add their cum-cream to this huge muscleman dessert. After Bud stepped into the den, I walked down the hall and opened the door. Just days ago the bodies of the two policemen standing at my door would have made my cock grow hard just from stealing a glance at them. They both filled out their uniforms nicely, even though one seemed to have what people might describe as a hard ‘roid gut’. Their beefy arms pressed against the fabric of their short sleeves and both guys had a couple of buttons undone on the front of their shirt to show off some hefty pecs. Cockiness and testosterone oozed out from the older of the two - the one with the gut. He had the kind of attitude that I usually found such a turn on, but that was all before Mr. Stevens had been changed. I instantly realized two important things about these guys now that I had a real muscle-beast as a boyfriend. First of all, these guys weren’t big - they didn’t even come close to knowing what big was. Bud was probably a half of foot taller than these big men and packed with about a hundred pounds of more hardened muscle. Up until my blood transfusion had made Bud grow, I would have viewed these two guys as the epitome of manliness, but over the last twelve hours I had come in contact with a real muscle-god. Usually, guys like this would have intimidated me - even as they turned me on - but not now. I knew the big guns on Bud Stevens in the other room were one hundred times more impressive than the arms of these two guys put together. Hell, Bud’s arms were more impressive that the real guns that were strapped to these two guy’s waists. I began to get excited about what Bud might be able to do with the two pistols. The second thing that I realized about these guys was that their cocky attitudes were basically fake ones. Now that I had experienced how Bud’s monstrous muscles enabled him to be confident without being overbearing and how a certain sweetness and gentleness came through because he knew he was basically everything I had ever dreamed of having in a man, I could easily see through these guys’ tough exterior. They were both suffering from low self-esteem. They pumped up their bodies and chose to wear uniforms in hopes of hiding insecurities that had existed since childhood. This simply didn’t exist with the alpha-male down the hall in the den. Bud could sense instinctively how unstoppable he truly was, but that merely made him more aware of other people’s desires and needs. It didn’t make him cocky or mean, unless those were the attitudes someone chose to shove in his face. I realized that Bud was completely free to be whatever someone wanted him to be. There was no attitude with my humongous boyfriend. He was simply who he was through and through. This realization freed me up to not be intimidated by the men in front of me. I could not wait to introduce these two guys to a man that was beyond their deepest fantasies. I couldn’t wait to see how Bud was going to make these guys shoot buckets of cum. “Hello officers,” I said, after opening the door. “Is there something wrong?” “Yeah, are you Mr. Stevens?” the older cop asked, inflating his chest a little in an attempt to make me nervous. The guy wanted to establish immediately that he was in charge. “No, sir. He’s my boyfriend,? I answered. I couldn’t believe I had spoken these words so easily. I never flaunted the fact that I was gay before - as a matter of fact I usually tried to hide it. Just knowing what was down the hall made me more confident and proud. I could have cared less what these guys thought. “Your boyfriend, huh,” said roid gut, turning to smile at his partner in a disapproving way. “Well we got a complaint about some noise. Someone said it sounded like a demolition crew was tearing the place down. What gives, little man?” I could tell the other cop didn’t appreciate his partner’s attitude toward me. I sensed immediately that the younger, more built guy was less cocky. I also realized that he was going to enjoy Mr. Stevens in a totally different way than his partner. I had a funny feeling that this muscled cop might have more in common with me than the guy at his side. He didn’t need to worry, though; I wasn’t intimidated by the older cop’s remark. It somehow felt like the cocky cop was happy because he had a pair of aces in a poker game we were playing, but I knew I had a royal flush down the hall in the den. He could have called me any name in the book and it wouldn’t have mattered. I knew he was going to feel like a ‘little man,’ himself, as soon as Bud came into view. The anticipation of that moment was making my hard cock leak a little pre-cum. My blossoming confidence, caused by my boyfriend Bud, even allowed me to not hide the raging hard-on pressing against my sweats. As a matter of fact, I kind of flaunted it. The older cop noticed my hard piece of meat and made a disgusted face. At the same time, though, I realized that he also assumed I was hard because I liked his body. He had no idea of what was really making my cock throb, but he was to find out soon enough. “Well, officer, we actually are renovating our place, now that you mention it. Sorry about the noise, but when you’re tearing down a wall it’s going to be a little noisy,” I said and smiled confidently. “I’m sure you are aware that there are required permits that must be submitted to the owner of the building when construction crews and machinery are used in one of the units,” said the younger officer politely. I immediately liked him. I hoped that Bud would take the time to grant him some special favors when we moved to fulfilling fantasies. “We aren’t using any machines and we certainly don’t need a crew of men when I’m around,” said a deep voice behind me. I forced myself to not turn around at the sound of Bud’s voice. I wanted to watch the reactions of these two men closely. I wanted to document, in my mind, the stages of awareness both guys went through after their first glance of the muscle monster behind me. Everything seemed to move in slow motion from that moment on. I watched as both men looked from me to where the man, that was speaking, stood. I also watched as their eyes had to move even higher than they anticipated in order to see Bud’s face. The older cop’s eyes shot wide with a look that was mixed with fear and an awareness of inadequacy. I quickly glanced at his crotch and watched, as the substantial piece of meat seemed to deflate. I kid you not, the guy’s cock shriveled up. Bud had been right - the initial reaction of some men to his huge body was to immediately register how puny they were compared to him. I looked at the younger cop’s face and saw that his eyes were open wide, but for an entirely different reason. His face clearly was full of instant lust and an awareness that he was in the presence of an alpha-muscle-daddy. I looked at his crotch and watched his cock grow to three times its original size in just two seconds. The younger dude had a very impressive dick and I suddenly realized he was intensely into muscle, just like me. “Fuck me,” was the only thing the older cop could think of to say. “Maybe later, officer,” Bud replied as he moved down the hall and stood behind me. I could see the heads of both cops tilt upward to continue looking at Bud’s face. Well one head tilted up. The younger cop continued to stare at the chest behind my head. I could see he clearly didn’t believe it was possible that someone like Bud existed. That’s when I noticed that the younger cop was shaking. It wasn’t out of fear, it was clearly because he was lusting uncontrollably for the older muscle stud behind me. “Clubs,” yelled the older cop, suddenly. He had gained enough control over himself to bark out an order to his partner. Both cops quickly pulled out the heavy night-sticks at their side. Before anyone knew what was happening, Bud reached around me and grabbed both wooden batons from the officers. The big guy brought the clubs together and held them in his big paws right in between the cops and myself. I knew what he intended to do before it even began to register with the two guys at the door. “There’s no need for these officers. Besides, they’d really have no impact on me whatsoever.” Bud’s words were interrupted by the sound of wood cracking. I saw the two officers jump a little when they heard the loud snap and watched as Bud easily broke the doubled up batons in his hands. “They really don’t make these things like they used to, do they?” Bud took the four pieces of the batons and put them into a bundle again. He held them with his giant hands and the officers and myself watched as his forearms burst into layers of thick veins and bulging muscle while he easily snapped the four pieces again. It was as simple as breaking toothpicks to the big guy behind me. Bud then simply let the remaining splinters of wood to fall to the floor. He dusted off his hands in front of me and my gaze went back to the policemen. The first thing I noticed was that both men’s mouths were wide open in amazement. The older cop had a look on his face that made it obvious he was moving from a feeling of inadequacy to a place of sheer admiration of the bigger man’s strength. It was like when an athlete concedes to a stronger opponent. It was obvious that the guy with the roid gut knew who the alpha male was in this situation. I looked back down at his crotch and saw that his cock was rock hard. Bud’s comment that men would move from feeling inadequate to being in awe of his body and his strength was true. The older cop’s cock couldn’t help itself from acknowledging the power and beauty of the muscle-god standing before it. Looking down I also noticed a wet spot growing at the crotch in the dark fabric of the younger cop’s pants. The muscle worshipper had obviously lost his load of cum from Bud’s display of power. I turned my gaze to his face and saw one of the largest grins I have ever seen. The guy was in muscle heaven. He simply continued to stare at Bud’s beautiful, humongous upper body. “Gentlemen, where are our manners,” Bud said, reaching out and grabbing the front of both officers’ shirts. He pulled them roughly through the doorway, causing the big guys to grunt in pain because of the tight fit, and into our hallway, so that I was trapped between the two big guys and the even bigger man behind me. Bud wrapped his arms around the back of their heads and pulled their faces to his monstrous pecs. Both men immediately opened their mouths and I watched as they kissed and licked the tight skin of Bud’s rock-hard chest. Bud reached up and pushed the front door closed. He then reached down and wrapped his beefy arms around the backs of the officers. He pulled the guys tightly into his body, squeezing me between their muscled bodies and his own marble-like torso. I immediately noticed that the hard bodies of the well-built officers didn’t come close to matching what Bud’s chest, abs, and arms felt like around me. It felt like the difference between a feather pillow and a slab of concrete. I knew the two guys in front of me had nice builds, but they didn’t come close to feeling like the perfect, hard, muscled beef of my old man Stevens. Bud easily lifted the three of us into the air. I found it hard to breathe because he was squeezing us so tight, but I didn’t care. The knowledge that the feet of all three of us smaller men were about a foot off the ground and that Bud was carrying us as if we weighed nothing was far more exciting that getting air into my lungs. Bud carefully turned around in the hall and started toward the den. As we moved down the hall I felt the hard pricks of both officers pressing against my body. I could also feel the wetness of the younger cops’ cum-filled crotch. Both men continued to suck loudly on Bud’s chest as we moved into the open area of the den. “In here we’ll have a little more room to play, don’t you think?” asked Bud as he dropped all of us back to the floor. Both men moaned a little as Bud stepped away and caused them to end their chest sucking session. They continued, however, to stare at the huge naked man in front of them. “There’s no fucking way,” mumbled the older cop in a voice that dripped with unbelief. “You can’t be real.” “Oh, I assure you, officer . . .” Bud started to answer, but wanted to find out our guests names. “Please just call me Derek,” answered the man. “What a manly name,? Bud said teasingly. “I assure you, Derek, that all of this body in front of you is quite real and extremely strong. You see the remains of that wall over there?” The giant man nodded his head toward the rubble on the floor and the gaping opening above it. Both officers glanced in that direction. “The only tools we needed for that simple job were these two powerful, sledge-hammered fists.” With that comment, Bud raised his giant arms into a double biceps pose. Both men turned back to look at my older boyfriend and the younger policeman’s body went completely rigid and then his stomach started pumping in and out and his legs shook uncontrollably. I couldn’t believe it; the poor guy was shooting another load of cum into his pants. He cried out as if someone had punched him in the stomach. Derek, on the other hand, was completely wrapped up in the unbelievable power that existed just in Bud’s massive arms. It made sense that this cocky, big man was turned on by some other guy’s strength; it was like he automatically knew to succumb to the dominant alpha-male. At the same time, though, he wanted to experience Bud’s fucking super strength first hand. I don’t think Derek actually needed proof that Bud was capable of mind-blowing feats of strength, he could sense the abilities of the monstrous body in front of him, but I do believe he wanted to release his building load of cum while watching Bud show off his power. I was pretty impressed that the older cop hadn’t ejaculated, yet. “God, please sir,” Derek took a few steps forward as he spoke, “I gotta see what those arms can do. Please show me your fucking power. I’m begging you, please.” “Of course, little man, of course. Please call me Bud, and this is my boyfriend, Connor. And who might you be?” Stevens asked turning to look at the younger cop who was still visibly shaking from his orgasm. “My name is . . . my name is . . .” mumbled the poor guy, but he was obviously so in shock that he couldn?t remember his name. “His name is Bennett, but we all call him Pretty Boy,” Derek answered. “And I can see why,” answered Bud. “Bennett, you just stand there for a few minutes, okay? Derek and I are going to have a little fun right now and then we’ll move on to fulfilling any fantasies you might have concerning my big body. Is that okay with you?” “Yes, sir, Mr. Bud,” was all Bennett was able to get out and it was barely a whisper. “Let’s take a look and see what we can do for you Derek,” said Bud as he walked over to the older cop, slid his huge hands into the guy’s armpits, and lifted him into the air. Bud lifted the shocked cop high over his head, having to bend his arms a little so the guy’s head didn’t hit the ceiling. Bud pressed Derek’s back into the white plastered ceiling and then moved one hand onto his chest, easily holding his body in place. “Hey, Derek, you might want to put on a little weight. It’s nothing for me lift you with one hand.” To emphasize the point, Bud lowered Derek’s body and pushed it back up a few times - using only his left arm. “Fucking shit, that’s impossible. I weigh close to three hundred ponds,” shouted the overwhelmed officer. “Your fucking arm must have more power than my entire body!” “And then some, my good friend, and then some,” replied Bud. “Ah, I see something that might impress you even more, Officer Derek.” Bud lowered the excited cop down to the floor. At first I wasn’t sure if Derek was going to be able to stand by himself, he was that shaken by the incredible power in Bud’s one arm. Bud, however, didn’t let go of the man until he was calm enough to stand on his own. “Let’s have a little fun with your revolver, shall we? Why don’t you hand big Bud that shiny piece of metal and I’ll show off a little,” my huge lover said. Derek didn’t need to be asked twice. He pulled out his official police revolver and handed it to Bud quickly. I don’t know types of guns at all, but the thing looked pretty big until it was in Bud’s giant hand. Bud opened the barrel and let the bullets drop into his palm. He placed the gun on a table near him. “Let’s start with these shall we? I want to try something with a couple of the bullets.” Bud took one of the bullets and put it in his mouth. He then took a second one and did the same. He kept his mouth slightly open and the three of us watched as he held them between his teeth on either side. Once they were in place he closed his mouth and bit down. There was a loud popping sound from his mouth and then Bud parted his lips slightly, letting smoke escape. He then opened his mouth wider and allowed the flattened lead bullets to fall into his open hand. The strength of just his jaw had crushed the entire mechanisms of the bullets - the cartridge, the bullet itself, and the rim. The gunpowder or cordite, whichever had been used to make these things, was not strong enough to force the bullets from between his teeth before he flattened them. “Aw, fuck, no way,” exclaimed the completely aroused Derek. He reached down and started pressing his right palm up and down his hard cock through his pants. “That’s fucking unbelievable, Bud. You gotta do more. Come on, I need to see more of your strength.” “Of course, my good man, of course,” answered Bud. “Watch this.” Bud held the remaining bullets in his other palm. He raised his hand even with Derek’s face and then closed his huge fingers around the small pile. We all held our breath as Bud squeezed his fist together. Again, there was a muffled loud crack and then smoke seeped through Bud’s fingers into the room. He opened his hand and there was nothing but a mangled piece of metal in the middle of his palm. I noticed immediately that the imprint of his fingers were clear in the mass of metal that used to be bullets. Bud turned his hand and let the small clump fall to the ground. It made a substantial thud, as if to prove to us it was real metal. None of us doubted it at all. “Oh my fucking goodness,” was all Derek could say. He glanced down at the mangled mass of bullets and then returned his gaze to Bud. His face had a pleading look that reminded me of a small child begging for ice cream. Bud knew what Derek wanted and he was not going to disappoint him. Bud reached down and picked up the revolver off the table. He lifted it to our eye level. Derek moaned out loud and, at the same time, he undid his belt, forced his zipper down and moved his hand around his hard cock - pumping it up and down quickly. He knew, instinctively, what was coming next. I was sure I knew, as well. “I don’t know much about guns, Derek, but this looks like a nice one. What a long hard barrel.” Bud was getting off on teasing Derek. The big man’s equally huge cock was starting to rise. I noticed that Bennett no longer cared what Bud’s strong hands were capable of doing, he was staring only at the thickening tool below the big man’s perfect abs. Bennett had also pulled out his own cock and was starting to stroke it slowly. I was very impressed with the size of Pretty Boy’s rod. I began to look forward to Bud fulfilling whatever fantasy filled that pretty head, because I knew it was going to be good. Bud began to talk again and this made me turn back to him. “It looks like this handle isn’t made too well, though, Derek. See how easily it can snap off.” Bud had only his right thumb and forefinger on the handle of the gun, while he held the long barrel with is left hand. We all watched closely as Bud tightened just those two fingers and the handle suddenly shattered into small pieces that flew everywhere. I had no idea what kind of material was used to make that part of the gun, but whatever it was it could not withstand the force of Bud’s powerful fingers. Derek’s legs began to wobble as soon as the handle of the gun disintegrated. He continued to pump his hard cock and I knew he was close to losing control. Bud must have sensed it, as well. He took the remaining part of the gun - the long metal barrel and the body - and held it between his open palms. He then made sure he held it close to Derek’s face. Bud then began to push the gun in on itself, like those huge machines that compress cars. The sound of metal being manhandled screeched throughout the room. We watched as Bud slowly brought his hands closer together and crushed the metal revolver as if it were a Styrofoam cup. Derek began to moan loudly as he stared at the two giant hands demolishing his gun so easily. I knew, without even looking, that Bennett was still watching Bud’s giant cock as it began to stick straight up. Bud was getting excited by his own display of power as much as we were. Finally, Bud’s two palms met each other, and he clasped his fingers together as he began to work the mangled piece of metal between his hands. He finally opened his hands and, instead of a gun, we all saw a thin flat piece of metal. Bud blew on the slab of steel lightly, and I realized that manipulating it like he had probably made it very hot. He then took the warm piece of metal and reached over to place it against Derek’s cheek. As soon as Bud’s big hand and the demolished gun touched Derek’s face, the poor cop’s cock began to shoot. Thick ropes of cum shot into the air between the two men and fell to the floor. Derek screamed with each ejaculation and I laughed at the thought that these guys were called because of a complaint about noise. Mr. Jenkins would probably be wondering what was going on above him right now. He would have died if he actually knew. Bud kept the flattened gun against Derek’s face during his entire orgasm - partly to give Derek’s body some support. When the older cop’s body finally calmed down and his breathing returned to normal, Bud pulled his hand away and began to roll the piece of metal into a thin tube-like strip. Derek simply watched as the monstrous man manipulated the steel like it was clay. Finally, Bud was pleased with his work. He took the metal and bent it into a semi-circle - as if he had made a bracelet. He then reached down and grabbed Derek’s large balls, lifting them up. Derek gasped when the big man’s hand touched him and his softening cock went immediately hard again. Bud took the horseshoe shaped piece of metal and slid it up behind Derek’s balls. It was obvious now that he had made a thick cock ring from Derek’s old pistol. He bent the metal until the tips met and then he squeezed them together. I could tell that Derek loved the way the metal felt against his balls and the base of his cock. Bud pulled his hands away, but Derek’s rod continued to stand straight up. “Yeah, that should keep you hard for a few days,” Bud said smiling at the older cop. “Not only because of the feeling that the metal gives your cock, but also because you’ll remember what these big muscles did to your gun. I’m not even sweating, Officer Derek. This is child’s play for me. What we need to do is go out and find a tank that I could demolish, don’t you think? Now that would make a fun cock ring, wouldn’t it?” “Oh, fuck yeah. I’m going to shoot again!” And with that Derek’s hard cock started to spew cum a second time. I could tell that the officer’s quick recovery from his first orgasm and then this offering of fresh man-juice impressed even Bud Stevens. I know I was amazed at how much more semen his cock was able to send out into the room. Finally, Derek’s geyser ended its explosion and he just stood there - exhausted, but totally happy. His poor cock was still rock hard, like he had taken a full bottle of Viagra. It was clear he was too spent to even speak. He just stared at Bud with eyes of gratitude and lust. Stevens turned toward Bennett and was happy to see that the younger policeman had refrained from shooting his load during the recent display of strength. Bud also smiled because he realized that Pretty Boy could not take his eyes off of the monster cock sticking up against Bud’s chiseled abs. “So, Bennett, my friend, I see you’re into big cocks,” Bud said cheerfully. Bennett just nodded his head as he continued to stare at Bud’s humongous piece of hard meat. “Ever see one this big, little fellow?” “No sir,” replied Bennett as he licked his lips. “That pretty ass of yours isn’t virgin is it, Bennett?” Bud asked and I could tell he was trying to figure out if the big, young officer could take his entire giant prick. “No sir,” snapped back Bennett, as if he was very proud of his answer. “Is it your desire that old man Stevens, here, would plow that ass of yours?” Bud asked hopefully. “No sir,? came Bennett’s reply and I could tell that Bud was disappointed. I knew the big guy would never take anyone forcibly. I felt sorry for my huge boyfriend, but then Bennett’s voice spoke clearly, saying, “It’s much more than a desire, sir. It’s as if my life depended on it. I know I can take all of it, Bud.” I could hear the pride in Bennett?s words when he added, “But there’s one thing that would make me even happier.” “Well spit it out boy,” yelled Bud. I could tell he was freakishly excited because he was going to get to plow another big man’s ass like he had done to Rocky earlier. Bennett didn’t speak. It was obvious that he didn’t want to say out loud what he desired. Bud walked over to the younger cop, grabbed him under his arms, and lifted him into the air like he had done to Derek. “Hell, son, you can whisper it into your muscle-daddy’s ear.? Bud brought the excited cop to the side of his face and Bennett whispered something to my boyfriend. Whatever he said made Bud laugh out loud. “My God, son, you are one nasty little cop, aren’t you. I think we can make that fantasy come true without any problem. This will definitely be a first for me, but I know we’re both going to like it a lot.” I could not wait to find out what they were talking about. My curiosity was even overpowering my desire for orgasm. I suddenly became aware of the fact that I had not shot my load yet. Even in the midst of Bud’s display of power, I was able to refrain from ejaculating. I knew, deep down, that I was waiting until Bud and I were alone again. He desired me to keep moving to the brink of release and then backing off, so my eventual eruption would be gigantic - and I wanted to make it happen for him. I wanted to please this man as much as he was pleasing me. He had the fucking strong body, but I had an equally strong will power. I knew that when it came to pleasing my huge elder boyfriend, I could even make my body save its pleasure juice. I couldn’t wait to share that moment with Bud. My mind came back to the present moment. I watched Bud place Bennett back down on the floor. Bud grabbed the lapels of the officer’s shirt and easily ripped it off his body in one quick tug. “Daayum, boy, you have one fine body,” Bud said as he ran his hands over the muscled chest of the younger officer. I noticed Bennett’s face turned red with embarrassment. I’m sure it was because he didn’t feel as proud of his body as he used to - since he was now standing next to Bud Stevens. He did, however, have a well-developed body. After kicking off his shoes, he pulled his pants off and I saw that his legs were solid, as well. The younger officer now stood there completely naked. “Hey, Derek, why don’t you peel off your clothes, as well,” Bud said. The older officer didn’t respond directly, but he did begin to undress. I could tell Derek was still a little shell-shocked from his earlier encounter with Bud. The revolver-turned-into-a-cock ring was still doing its job, because Derek’s dick was rock hard. Bud whistled loudly when Derek was completely nude. “Derek, youv’e got a pretty nice body too - for an older man. I’m about forty years older than you, though, buddy - so my body is what you need to set as your ultimate goal.” Bud was running his hands over his monstrous upper body and laughing hard. “I hate to tell you this, gentlemen, but I don’t think you’ll ever catch up with this old man’s body. What do you think, Connor?” “Quit teasing the boys, Bud,” I said smiling. “Just because you’re bigger than the three of us put together, doesn’t give you the right to pick on anyone.” “No, but being stronger than about one hundred of you guys put together does give me the right, doesn’t it?” the big man asked, winking at me. “No, it just means nothing on earth is going to be able to prevent you from doing anything you want to,” I said, winking back. “That’s right, little boyfriend, that’s right. So, Mr. Bennett,” Bud said turning to the officer, “shall we get down to business?” The big man then spit in his hand and rubbed it all over his giant cock. “Yes sir,” replied Bennett, as he turned around and bent over. I noticed that he was shaking - either from excitement about getting plowed or nervousness about the size of Bud’s cock. Or, it could have been a mixture of both things - who knew. Bud stepped up behind Bennett, grabbed him with his big hands firmly at the waist, and pressed the tip of his monstrous cock against Bennett’s asshole. “You want it slow and easy or fast and deep, big guy?” asked Bud as he teasingly pushed his cock against the inviting hole of Bennett. “Fast and…” began the young officer, but he was interrupted because the answer had been the one that Bud Stevens wanted to hear. Suddenly, with the force of some crazed superman, the giant shoved his entire cock into the tight ass in front of him. The shock of having something so large crammed into his sphincter so quickly caused Bennett to stand straight up. He screamed like a wild animal that had been shot. I heard the muscled crotch of Bud slam hard against the cop’s ass. I could not fathom anyone being able to take Bud’s entire dick into his body, but I also could not believe that someone could take all of it so quickly. It was then that I realized that Bennett’s feet were no longer on the floor. The strength of Bud’s cock had lifted the muscled officer into the air and he simply dangled there, pierced by something that probably came halfway up his insides. Bud just stood there motionless. He wanted to give Bennett’s body a few minutes to get used to the monstrous intrusion. Bennett’s scream had ended and I could tell he was quickly moving from a place of pain to a deep satisfaction. Bud still gripped Bennett’s waist. I realized that my boyfriend was partially holding the officer in the air with his strong hands. Bud was slowly releasing his grip so that Bennett’s full weight shoved him down harder on the giant cock inside of him. “More, sir,” whispered Bennett. “Please let go completely.” Bud smiled behind the officer and took his hands from the guy’s waist. I gasped out loud as I realized that Bennett was now being held in the air by just Bud’s big cock. It was an amazing sight. Suddenly, a look of complete calmness came over the younger man’s face. I knew he had moved past the pain and was now wrapped up in the ecstasy of being fucked by a monster dick. Bud began to pulse his crotch slightly and I watched Bennett’s body bounce up and down the telephone pole that harpooned his ass. The young man began to coo like a small child and I laughed a little. The view from the side did remind me of a dad carrying his son in a Baby Bjorn. Some movement beside me made me turn and I saw that Derek was again pumping his cock as he watched his partner being fucked inches off the floor. “Looks like Derek wants in on the action,” Bud said turning his head. “Shall we fulfill that fantasy of yours, Bennett?” “Yes, please,” replied the excited voice of Bennett. If I had not seen what happened next, personally, I would have never believed it. Bud walked over beside Derek - with Bennett perfectly resting on his huge shaft. I blinked my eyes to make sure it was really happening. Bud walked normally - as if the two hundred and something added pounds didn’t affect him or his cock at all. I could not begin to comprehend the power his dick possessed. Then, as if to mock my disbelief even more, Bud bent his knees slightly, and grabbed the older officer at the waist. It slowly dawned on me what was about to happen and I stood there dumbfounded. Bud stood up again and easily lifted the bulky older officer into the air. It was then that Derek realized what was happening, too. “Aw, fucking hell, yes,” he cried out in joyful anticipation. I was pretty sure this was going to be the first time the older officer was ever fucked, but the display of power from my huge boyfriend made Derek want it more than anything else in the world. As Bud easily maneuvered Derek’s body in the air, Bennett placed his hard cock, which was leaking tons of pre-cum because of what was about to happen, between the ass cheeks of his partner. “You want it slow and easy or fast and deep, big guy?” Bud asked, repeating the question from earlier. “Fast and…” began Derek, but, again, it was the answer Bud had wished for. Hell, I think it was the answer everyone in the room wished for. With just the incredible and endless strength of his arms, Bud pulled the older cop’s body downward, causing Bennett’s hard cock to penetrate the virgin ass on top of him. Derek let out the loudest scream of the day and I knew, instantly, that he was going to have trouble walking for at least a week. No one moved. I don’t think anyone even breathed. Derek’s scream seemed to echo in the room for a few minutes. I just stood there, with my mouth wide open, as I gazed at the fucking incredible sight before me. Neither Derek’s nor Bennett’s feet were touching the floor. Bud held Derek in place with just his grip of the older officer’s waist. After waiting a little while so the two officers’ bodies could adjust, Bud leaned backwards. With just the mind-blowing strength of his legs and cock, the old man dropped his hands from Derek’s waist. I gasped out loud and my boyfriend looked over at me, smiling like a proud little boy. The humongous Mr. Stevens was supporting almost six hundred pounds with just his superhuman cock. He began to bounce his crotch again and both police officers began to moan in delight as they moved up and down. If I hadn’t known better I would have assumed that Bud’s monster piece of meat was actually inside both men. I was amazed at how much Derek was getting into the job Bennett’s cock was doing on his ass - due mainly to Bud’s slight thrusts. I suddenly longed to be in the younger officer’s position - with a huge piece of meat filling my ass and my cock plowing someone else at the same time. So this had been Bennett’s fantasy. No wonder Bud called him a nasty little cop. It was obvious that Bennett had had the hots for his partner for a long time, but never dreamed of ever acting on those desires. When he met the fucking huge Mr. Stevens he suddenly realized that his fantasy was too small. Here was a muscle god that could magnify his dream into something far greater than he ever thought possible. Bennett was finally getting to fuck his partner, but they were also being held by the largest cock attached to the biggest muscle beast to ever walk the earth. They ceased to exist as individuals and magically became one because of the giant cock that held them in the air. “It’s time for a little release, boys,” bellowed Bud as he wrapped his huge arms around both men, grabbing Derek tightly at the waist. Bud then stood straight up. Both cops still dangled a few inches above the ground. With a loud growl, Stevens pulled back his crotch and part of his dick slid from Bennett’s ass. He then slammed his cock back into the cop in front of him. This, in turn, caused Bennett’s cock to slam deeper into Derek’s ass. Both men cried out in pleasure at the same time. “Yeah, fuck my virgin ass,” yelled Derek. “Fuck me Bud, fuck me hard,” called out Bennett. This was all the encouragement my big boyfriend needed. He held both men in place with just his arms, and then started to pound their asses relentlessly. Even though it was Bennett’s cock in Derek’s ass, it was really Bud fucking both of them. Bennett had no control over what he was doing, because the large piece of meat shoving into his ass forced him to go in an out of Derek’s butt whether he wanted to or not. Bennett was certainly not complaining. As a matter of fact, he was nearing the biggest orgasm of his life and he knew his partner was close to the same. The younger officer reached around the waist in front of him and grabbed hold of the thick cock ring that had been made from a revolver. Bud grunted and yelled loudly. We all knew he was about to spew like a broken fire hydrant. Every muscle in his body was glistening with a light sheen. I knew that Bud could keep this up all night, but it was clear he realized that the two officers were probably near the point of blacking out. I watched as Bud pulled his giant cock almost completely out of Bennett’s ass. At the same time he forced his crotch forward, he used his strong arms to pull both men towards him. I could tell how powerful the impact of his crotch hitting Bennett’s ass was - simply by the sound. All three men screamed in unison and the two smaller guys began to convulse uncontrollably. I could see that Bud’s giant cock was unloading an incredible amount of semen into Bennett’s chute because a bunch of it came shooting back out and fell to the floor. At the same time Derek’s hard cock shot its third load into the air. This time he spewed more cum than before. It sailed halfway across the room and fell on pieces of rubble from the demolished wall. As soon as the two officers’ orgasms ended they both passed out, but Bud continued to unload copious amounts of juice into Bennett’s ass. Finally, after what seemed like a good fifteen minutes, Bud’s cock stopped jerking inside of the cop. He turned to me and smiled. “How are the boys?” he asked. “Completely out,” I answered. “Good job.” “Thanks, boss,” Bud said as he walked toward the couch. He carefully bent over and let the men slide onto the cushions. He was careful to not allow Bennett’s cock to slide from Derek’s ass. “I think it will be fun if they wake up this way, don?t you?” Bud laughed as he turned to look at me – and what I saw was magnificent. “Well then, is it about time for me to give some release to my gorgeous boyfriend?” Old Man Stevens – Part 7: Bud and Connor Deepen Their Bond The mere fact that this silver-haired Hercules standing in front of me had just asked if it was time for my cock to release the load of cum that had been building all afternoon, caused my body to quiver hard in anticipation. I stared at the huge man that made the rest of the big room look small. His body looked like it was so hot and hard that it was ready to burst into flames like a meteor any minute and shoot through the wall of the building into the air. I couldn’t begin to imagine how Bud was going to top any of his previous moments of showing off his super human strength. It was obvious, however, that the intention was that I would offer my greatest thank you gift to this muscled master-daddy, which was gobs of Bud-induced, thick, hot jism bursting from my tensed body. I knew there was much more his armor-plated like body could do, but my wildest fantasies had already been met – when he easily put his fist through the wall and made a larger archway, when he pressed an almost three-hundred pound grown man against the ceiling with one arm, when he flattened two bullets in his mouth like he was biting down on cereal, when he compressed a revolver the way most children crushed Styrofoam, or when he made a thick cock ring with what used to be the gun, or, maybe it was my favorite, when he held two men in the air – with a combined weight nearing six hundred pounds – with nothing but his giant, steel-like dick. How could I even begin to “think outside the box” and come up with something new his body might do, when I was still shaking from memories of all that my senior muscleman boyfriend had already done? Bud obviously mistook my body’s motion as something else – or he was just using it for an excuse for what came next – I wasn’t sure. “Is little Connor, cold?” asked the behemoth as he moved to stand behind me, reached up with his monstrous hands, and pulled my body back against his. “Why don’t you let your muscle daddy’s fucking hot, hard body warm you up, sweet buddy.” As my head met his immovable massive chest, my back curved in to hit his chiseled abs, and my ass bumped into his still hard, straight-in-the air, giant prick, there was a loud smack that echoed in the room. It was as if my body had backed into a solid brick wall – no, Bud’s body was even harder than that. Pain shot through my head, back, and ass cheeks. I cried out a little, but the feeling also made my cock jerk a few times in amazement of how fucking solid a body he had. I could not believe how his flesh didn’t dent in at all when my body pressed up against it. I wasn’t sure a bullet or even a damn missile could have penetrated his thick metal-like covering. “Sorry, little buddy, I forget how stone-like my muscles are and how a simple tug from these arms can be like the force behind a wrecking ball.” I could tell from his voice that Bud was smiling as he said this. I’m not saying he did it on purpose, but I do believe he liked the little reminders of what his body was capable of taking and how he was able to show it off every now and then. I could tell he was actually getting quite used to his incredible body and loved every chance he got to explore its improbable limits. “Is this a little better?” Bud wrapped his thick arms – that seemed the size of a small man’s body – around my upper torso. I felt like I was being surrounded by wide steel girders used to hold up skyscrapers. Heat radiated from every pore of his skin and caused my body to immediately feel more welcomed by his womb-like embrace. He gripped the front of my shirt and pulled away from my body. The fabric had no chance, and I felt the shirt rip down the back and slide away from my body as easily as water drips off my skin. I instantly loved the way our skin felt - now that it was able to freely touch the each other. He squeezed me carefully, causing no pain – only a feeling of total security and a comfort I had never felt before. My small frame had begun to mold itself into the hard ridges and bulges of his body. I felt, at all parts of my body, how his muscles were so large that they seemed to be exaggerated. My mind still could not comprehend how this man’s body had changed – everything still seemed as if I were in some kind of incredible morphing dream. Bud simply held me still for a few moments and my racing heart finally began to beat differently, in perfect rhythm with his own powerful pulse. Even his pulse was strong enough to conquer others. You would have thought all of this womb-like calmness would have soothed my aching cock, but it actually had the opposite effect. I was harder than I had ever been – even harder than when I witnessed the muscle god lift two huge men with own giant piece of meat – the same piece of meat that was now twitching strongly against my back. It seemed that our intimate embrace was exciting Bud Stevens as much as it was me. I swear his powerful rod could have easily shoved me through the opposite wall if he had just willed it down. Several large drops of pre-cum seeped out of the slit of my hard dick when I suddenly felt moist lips press against my neck. I bent my head to the side, as if I was offering my open neck to Dracula, but I knew the muscle monster behind me could actually dominate anything – even vampires. Bud used his strong lips – yes, even his lips were powerful – to pull at my skin. He sucked in slightly and I began to dream of having marks left there that would remind me of my huge boyfriend every time I glanced in the mirror. I wanted him to claim my body, as well as my love. I wanted my strong protector to conquer me – but I also wanted something more. How was it possible that these simple actions of intimacy – his kisses on my neck and his soft embrace – were giving me more pleasure than all of his displays of super strength combined? I was a guy that had wanted and secretly worshipped giant muscled studs all of my life and had fantasized more about what a guy could do with his inhuman strength than anything else, but here I was moving closer to the most explosive orgasm I had ever experienced just because my insanely huge lover was hugging and kissing me warmly. Then it struck me like a bolt of lightning. I had absolutely no care in the world at that moment. I doubted or feared nothing. There were no worries existing in any part of my brain or body. This realization made my cock ooze more of my milky juice into my sweats. I knew, throughout every cell of my body, that the arms holding me and the body pressing against me could protect me and take care of me completely. This man was everything I would ever need in life – and his strength would make him able to solve any problem I faced. I knew that Bud’s body couldn’t prevent me from death, but, then again, maybe it could. Did the mixing of our blood make him huge, super strong, and also immortal? Could it do the same for me? I let that thought go for the time being; I knew I could return to it later. Right now, I just marveled at the fact that I was completely free, free of any thoughts other than total submission to the massive older man holding me. I wanted to only think of his muscles, his strength, and his love for me. It wasn’t a slave-like submission – although the thought of that made me a little excited, picturing myself bowing down and kissing his huge feet – no, this feeling was more of a submission that was full of an awareness that he was everything I would ever need in life. He would provide for me and fill my every day with new and exciting ways of making any fantasy I dreamed up to come true. He was my fairy-tale ending, but he was also a hell-of-a lot better than any Prince Charming I could have imagined. He was as strong as the prince, the horse, the castle, and the entire kingdom put together. I finally landed on the word that described how the bulging biceps on either side of my head, the massive rock-hard pectorals behind my head, and the tree trunk sized cock at my lower back made me feel – it was limitless. Yes, limitless was the perfect word to describe all that I was sensing about this moment. I felt like there was no limit to the love that Bud and I shared, and that there would be no limit to how his body and his strength would continue to impress me. I began to purr with complete satisfaction. My newfound awareness resonated deeply with the giant muscle bear behind me. His cock understood how I felt and responded to my new insights by throbbing even more. “I sense that my little Connor finally gets what I’ve been saying all day.” Bud cooed in my ear softly as he began to run one of his large hands across my chest. I noticed that two of his fingers could pinch one of my nipples even as the base of his palm easily rubbed the opposite hard nub roughly – that was the size of his hand and this thought thrilled me. His skin was also hard and seemed rough, almost as if his once weak hands had become calloused when they changed, just to emphasize their new strength. His pinching and rubbing made my nips shoot rock stiff immediately. I believe that Bud could have easily caused pre-cum to seep from this part of my body, as well, if he had wanted to. “So you finally understand that I can give you anything you’ll ever want. I can make any muscle fantasy of yours come true. Today was just the beginning, Connor. Your old man, here, hasn’t even begun to show you what this big strong body can do. I can’t wait for you to start giving me tasks to do – just like the king that gave Hercules those measly labors to complete. You old man’s huge muscles can outdo that Greek hero without any problem. I’m sure your freaky muscle-worshipping mind can come up with some pretty inventive things for me to do. Am I right, little lover? And then we also haven’t given you the chance to really explore this body, have we? I’d love to get a tongue bath from you every day – how does that sound? Would you like the chance to get a good whiff of what a fucking huge muscleman really smells like? Would you like to personally scrutinize every bulge, thick vein, and striation?” While he spoke, Bud used his other hand to untie my sweats, pull the waistband away from my middle so my hard cock could be freed, and then let them drop to the floor. “Yeah, now we have your body completely free, just like we’ve freed your mind from all worries, fears, and doubts. Your muscled elder, here, is going to always take care of you, Connor. Just let these hard-as-rock muscles surrounding you fill every part of your mind and enable you to let go completely. I’ll take care of you, Connor. Let old man Stevens, your personal giant, make every dream come true. I’ll fill every part of your mind with massive bulges.” His hard rod felt like a gigantic log burning in a bonfire against my back – that’s how much heat it was putting out. Our bodies seemed to mold together like two clumps of clay that have been pushed hard into each other. Bud’s heavy breathing made it obvious that he was getting as much pleasure from our embrace as I was. His hands roamed all over my upper body and he would teasingly pinch my nipples with his thick fingers ever now and then – just to make my body jump. I’m sure he also did it so I would repeat the deep moan that escaped my mouth every time. I pressed my ass into his large balls and the base of his cock, moving it back and forth roughly to give him some extra pleasure. Each time I pushed against him Bud would take my earlobe between his lips and give it a hard tug. It was quite obvious that both of us were nearing that “place of no return” that always followed heavy foreplay. “You’ve been a very good boy this afternoon, Connor.” Bud whispered in my ear. “I’ve been very impressed at how you have been able to prevent yourself from shooting your cum. Even after everything I’ve done to show off for you – demolishing a gun with my bare hands, manhandling two guys as if they were stuffed animals, and even busting down a wall with just these powerful fists. You were still able to save your orgasm just for me. I think I’ll be rewarding you for a few days to come, just to show you how happy you’ve made me. But right now, I’m going to give you the best gift ever. I’m going to beg you to cum and you’re going to explode like it’s the fucking Fourth of July and your cock is the entire Macy’s fireworks show all wrapped up in one hard stick. You see that wall across the room – yeah, the one that’s about fifteen feet away – well, our goal is to create a little cum artwork right there. That should be no problem, since we’ve been building this eruption for hours. But here’s the best part, Connor. The moment your aching cock begins to spew I can guarantee that the huge pole pressing against your back is going to cause a volcanic sized amount of hot cum-lava to rain down over you. You see, little lover, nothing gets me hotter than making your dick release huge amounts of Connor juice. And it’s magic to me when my body is the cause of that release. That’s the best compliment you can give your giant boyfriend, allowing my muscle to milk you of your semen. My own cock is aching so much it’s like it has never shot a load before. No one can make me cum like you can, Connor. I’m your mammoth muscle slave for life. The only reason I have muscles or fucking super strength is to impress you. I live to make you happy. I hope you realize that. No day will be complete if I don’t please you in some way. I only want this huge body because it can do things to excite you. I think all of this new found awareness for both of us is only going to make our impending orgasms that much fucking stronger. What do you think, my little master?” There was no possible way I could have lied to anyone at that moment – having a six foot seven mature muscle monster call you master was definitely the biggest turn on possible. I could not believe that I had been blessed with this opportunity. Simultaneously to the mental pleasure caused by Bud’s words, was the enjoyment that his colossal hand was bringing to my body. He moved his wide strong palm down my stomach, making my breath stop from anticipation, and then separated his first two huge fingers so they slid on either side of my rock-hard cock. My knees buckled a little as soon as I felt his hand near my hard dick. Bud kept his hand still, so it wouldn’t cause me to shoot my load immediately. He finally used his other powerful hand to pull my body more tightly into his. With his thumb and the tips of his fingers he squeezed my balls. My body fell back into his more completely as I cried out loud. Bud held me there, in place, for a few minutes – just to let my body recover from the sensation of his colossal hand on my balls and dick. I don’t think my heart had ever beaten as strongly as it did at that moment. My mind rushed through all the incredible strength tasks I had seen his hand do – hold a man in place, bend iron and steel, bust through walls, and much more. The knowledge of what his hand could easily do to my body only made me more excited. His fingers started to massage my aching balls as his first two fingers pressed firmly against my hard cock. These were the same fingers that had easily molded steel like it was paper. I moaned out loud at the pressure his fingers gave to my hard prick. It actually felt like some kind of giant wrench was tightening a vice-grip on my cock. The presence of his fingers caused my ready-to-explode pole to stick straight out from my body. I suddenly realized he was taking aim for the wall across the room. I was instantly happy that I had not made a bet against his prediction that my shooting cum would reach the far wall in front of me – for, at this moment, I knew it would be true. There were many feelings that raced through me at that exact moment. Bud began to whisper softly at the side of my face and the words he was saying, as well as the moist air tickling my ear, caused me immense pleasure. He had also begun to rub his hard massive cock up and down my back; while at the same time his giant hand on my chest pulled my body into his even more tightly. The grip of his fingers around my balls made it feel like he was squeezing me like a large ripe orange – preparing to get every drop of juice he could. I had begun to moan uncontrollably and this only seemed to excite my muscle- daddy even more. We both could actually feel the fluids churning in my body getting to a super-pressurized boiling point in anticipation of this life-altering release. Bud squeezed his two muscled fingers – which presently felt stronger than titanium – more firmly into my cock. His hand was acting like Hoover Dam holding back a tidal wave of flooding cum. It seemed as if we were frozen in time and the incredible Bud Stevens was causing the intense moment of orgasm to last as long as he wanted. This unbelievable action was almost more impressive than all of his feats of strength rolled into one. My elder muscle master could even make my body stay suspended in a fucking awesome pleasure zone for as long as he commanded. Bud was playing the part of Zeus and my stream of hot jism was going to be the lightning bolt he threw to the earth. I began to get nervous that my ejaculation was going to knock down the wall across the room – that’s how powerful Bud was making me feel. “Yeah, my little muscle worshipper, you’re body is so fucking hot right now that you’re about to cause a nuclear meltdown,” Bud whispered, and let his lips graze my ear – sending shivers through both of us. “Your big daddy, here, is going to milk you for all you’ve got. This is going to be the biggest damn explosion you’ve ever felt. You have nothing to fear, though. My huge arms are going to hold you tight through the entire cum drenching volcano moment. And you’re going to make me explode right along with you. Feel my muscles getting harder, boy? See what your body can do to me – not only does it make my cock turn to stone, but also every piece of my skin becomes like impenetrable armor. You’re huge muscle lover doesn’t need some fucking suit like Iron Man, my body is already much stronger than that – and being around you only makes me more powerful. You turn me on so much that I think I actually want you to ejaculate more than you do. Together, we’re going to make you propel your juice farther than you ever have in your life. Your knees are surely going to buckle when you release, little Connor, but these pillars of muscle beneath me, and those strong girders wrapped around your body, are going to support you as if you were on some gigantic mountain. Yeah, just think of me as your muscle mountain.” I was still listening to everything Bud was saying, but I had moved into something akin to a muscle comatose state. My entire body was some kind of power source that just registered hard muscle and strength. I was aware of all that was happening, but the only thing that mattered was giant biceps that rested against my shoulder and stomach, beefy forearms that pressed into my abs and side, fucking strong fingers that gripped me at my cock and my nipple, a massive chest that pressed into my shoulders and head, and a prick the size of tree that throbbed noticeably up and down my back. I knew my entire being existed merely to soak up the power being radiated from every sinew, bulge, and marble-like inch of Bud’s huge body. I never imagined my heart or mind could take so much muscle-lusting induced excitement. I also knew, instinctively, that this exact moment would be repeated with my master muscle-daddy for the rest of my life. That made the impending orgasm within me grow even more powerful. “Here we go my little cum spewing cannon,” Bud teasingly whispered in my ear. “On your mark, get set . . .” he paused just to tease me. The muscle stud knew I wouldn’t release until he told me I could. I would wait until he allowed me to reward him for his show of strength and his beautiful body. I was his slave and his master at the same time – and he was both to me, as well. We were now completely connected in a way that was impossible for anyone else to understand. “Please shoot for daddy, Connor.” His polite request registered in my mind as if he were a drill sergeant barking out a loud command. As soon as he gave the word my cock shot a rope of cum out of it that made it seem like some kind of military missile was being deployed into the stratosphere. My stomach contracted in so much that I’m sure the front and back of the inside walls actually touched. I shook as if my body had turned into a magnitude eight earthquake. The incredibly loud sound of my cum hitting the wall across the room was obviously too much for even Bud Stevens to handle. In the midst of my mind-boggling orgasmic eruption, I was able to register that my muscleman’s balls tightened unbelievably and his giant rod then began to jerk uncontrollably – sending volumes of his hot, thick, lava-like cum into the tight space between out bodies and into the air above my head. It felt like someone was trying to caulk any open cracks that existed between us. The feeling of his warm man-sauce eventually sliding down my ass crack made my own orgasm intensify. We continued to see and hear cum splattering against the far wall for seven or eight of the numerous powerful thrusts of my now strained, purple, but still straight-as-a-board cock. I knew, somehow, that Bud’s powerful grasp of my balls and his fingers’ vice-grip of my rod enabled me to shoot a load of semen that seemed to come from Superman. I did, in a bizarre way, feel invincible at that very moment. I could not determine if it was because of my super strong ejaculation or because I was surrounded by the fucking most powerful man in the world. It didn’t matter - either way, all I knew was that I felt like I could do anything. Globs of my off-white syrupy spunk covered the wall in front of us. It dripped down the wall as if were part of some horror flick that involved dangerous slime. By the time my still-rocketing cum-missiles began to fall short of the wall, Bud’s strong arms were supporting me completely. I could not feel any part of my body below my cock – as a matter of fact, my exploding rod was the only thing I felt, besides the strong muscles surrounding me. I noticed that Bud’s huge body has ceased to spew forth his juice and our bodies had begun to stick together as if someone had put superglue between us. I was surprised that my orgasm was lasting longer than the huge man behind me, but then I remembered this is how he had wanted it to go since earlier today. Bud brought me to the edge of release and then forced me to back off so often that the intense ejaculation would have clearly caused my body to lift off the ground if he had not been holding me. Finally, my cock stopped its uncontrollable jerking, but the senior muscleman squeezed with his hand one last time just to make the pole he held send one last semi-painful fist-sized splattering of cum to the floor in front of us. I was breathing as if I had just finished a marathon – and my body felt like it had recently been through a hurricane. As feeling returned to all parts of my body, I realized I had a huge smile on my face. My legs still could not support me, so the giant hand at my crotch and my chest pinned me comfortably upward against the massive slab of muscled beef behind me. “You little virile bastard,” chuckled Bud. “Look at that wall. It looks like Jackson Pollack had a few buckets of your juice and decided to create a Connor-cum painting. That’s a work of art, my boy, that’s a work of art. That cock of yours is some kind of new-fangled miracle paint sprayer. You should patent that powerful gun, boy. I know I’ll be using your cum spewing cannon a lot more in the future. We might have to set up some bull’s eyes and do a little target practicing. I’m surprised we didn’t put a few holes in the wall. How you doing, my prized little bull?” His description of the cum-stained wall and his compliments made my semi-limp cock spring to attention again. This made Bud laugh out loud and caused his own cock to snake back up my back – prying our cum-caked bodies slightly apart. The noise of our sticky skin being forced apart from each other turned both of us on even more. “I still can’t feel my legs, big guy. I’m hoping you don’t mind holding me for a little while longer, because if you didn’t I’d surely become a pile of jelly on the floor.” I pressed my ass against his balls and the base of his cock as I spoke. When I moved I could feel his dried cum in my ass crack and I quivered from excitement. “I’ll hold you as long as you want me to, muscle-pup. I’d carry you forever if that’s what you wanted. Your body is as light as a feather to these strong-as-fuck arms. You have just made me feel so incredibly good, that I believe I could tear down an entire city block without taking even a short break.” Bud knew his words were making me extremely hard again. As a matter of fact, I realized that was his goal. “Would you like that, my sweet baby? Would you like to see this muscle gramps bring down building after building with just his bare hands? Or would you like it even more, if I used my fucking strong hard cock to knock a few structures to nothing but a pile of rubble?” My cock twitched happily between his steel-like fingers. “Yeah, I thought that would make my little muscle-lover happy.” Bud leaned down, turned my head to the side by shifting his massive chest slightly, and then kissed my lips. His forceful pressure against my mouth and his probing tongue assured me that he had enjoyed our little sex explosion. “Everything you do makes me happy,” I answered. “I have never known such happiness as I have felt today. I’m just glad that I am able to make you happy, as well.” “You make me more than happy, Connor,” Bud whispered in my ear. “You make me whole. My life would end if you were not in it. I love you.” “I love you too, my silver-haired giant muscleman,” I responded, knowing my comment would give him the rush I wanted it to. I could see that he was grinning from ear to ear. “I know another thing that would make me happy, Connor, and that would be a maid to clean up this intense semen we’ve shot out all day.” Bud was laughing as he spoke. “It’s beginning to smell like a bathhouse in here. That’s not necessary a bad thing, but what about when we have guests over?” I laughed with him. “Hey, I know. Why don’t we hire a huge male muscle-maid that cleans in the buff, so you could grab a quick fuck every now and then, just to calm that giant beast that hangs between your legs?” I laughed hard and Bud playfully squeezed me tighter. My laughter ended because my flow of air suddenly stopped. This made Bud laugh harder and then he immediately lessened his grip. He knew my legs were still very wobbly, so he didn’t let go completely. “I’ve got an even better idea. Why don’t we see if Officers Derek and Bennett want to move in and become our maids? I think they’d love it more than we would.” “Aw fuck, yeah, that would be real nice.” Derek’s sudden, strained voice surprised both Bud and me. Before we turned around to look, I guessed why his voice sounded so weird, but when the big guy behind me easily lifted my body and we soon faced the sofa, my hunch was proven right. Staring at us from the sofa were the now very awake Officers Derek and Bennett. It was quite obvious that the two men had been watching us for a while and that they were now very excited by our recent cum explosions. The younger cop was still lying on top of Derek and his long hard dick was slowly sliding in and out of the inviting ass below him. Derek began to moan each time the thick tube of Bennett beef penetrated his hole. Drops of sweat were falling from Bennett’s glistening body onto Derek’s back. The sight on the sofa turned my big Bud on a lot, not to mention what it did for me. “Muscle daddy wants to play with his two new toys, Connor,” Bud said out loud, not even turning to look at me. He just stared at the two men and his muscles began to harden again – indicating that he was getting very excited. “Would that be okay? I promise not to hurt them. I just want to show them more of what my big body can do and, in the meantime, cause them to shoot a mega load just like you.” I turned my head to look up at the giant’s face. He looked down and had a pleading look that reminded me of a two-year old. I nodded my head and then used my chin to point to a winged-back chair near the sofa – it sat there looking kind of like a throne. If the older muscle master was going to play then I better have a ringside seat. Bud clearly understood what I wanted. He slid his arm that was at my crotch down behind my knees and his other arm moved to my back. He lifted me into the air as easily as most men would pick up a pillow. He carried me like I was precious cargo and placed me gently in the chair. He then brought his lips to mine and gave me a deep and passionate “thank you” kiss. “Go on; make your little stud happy, big man,” I said shooing him away. “I want to see you show off your muscles and your strength. But, play nice, now. Remember that you’re a hundred times fucking stronger than other men.” I loved this conversation, but not as much as it obviously pleased my muscle master – and certainly not as much as it excited the two cops. They never stopped, though, their slow, methodic movement of cock and ass. “Make sure you share yourself with both of them. Don’t play favorites with your huge muscles. You need to be fair to all the little men – those that like your feats of strength like Derek and those, like Bennett, that get into your ability to fuck like some mythological god. I’m going to sit over here and watch what my big muscle man can do. Go ahead. Don’t be shy. Make those two cops happy beyond their wildest dreams. Make sure you empty them of every drop of their precious cum.” Bennett was unable to really focus on what was happening across the room at my chair. He was too ecstatic because he was finally getting to fuck the partner he had lusted after for years. Derek was also still too busy enjoying his first day of new sexual self awareness. No one could have told me the older tough cop would get off so much from being a big old bottom. Hell, no one would have convinced me he’d get into anything gay, but here he was moaning loudly with pleasure every time Bennett’s fat cock sank deeper into his happy chute. Both men barely registered that my large muscled boyfriend was now standing beside them. All of Bud’s body seemed to be glowing with excitement caused by the anticipation of giving the two men in front of him a muscle experience to remember. This wasn’t close to the thrill I was going to get from watching whatever he was going to do from my ringside seat. Every muscle that covered the big man’s massive body seemed tensed beyond belief, but I knew they were all relaxed and calm – he continuously looked like he had just pumped extremely heavy weights to make some part of his body bulge out insanely. But that was just the way his entire frame constantly appeared. Bud reached down and began to massage Bennett’s bulbous ass with his huge hand. I was shocked to see how my giant’s wide palm reached around the entire butt is kneaded so roughly. My cock leapt straight up with excitement when I saw Bud basically palm Bennett’s ass like a basketball. My muscled lover was able to lift Bennett’s body off of the older cop beneath him with just one tug of his hand. Bud looked over at me grinning like a child that just learned a new skill. The big man also began to chuckle lightly as he started lifting the ass, and along with it the cock, of Bennett and then slamming it back down into the welcoming hole of Derek. I thought I might pass out at what I was witnessing. Bud was able to intensify Bennett’s plowing of Derek’s ass tenfold because of his strength and how fast he could move his arm. Both men’s moans on the sofa started to sound like yelling cowboys on bucking broncos. Bud didn’t realize how hard he was shoving and suddenly the room was filled with the sound of wood splintering as the middle sofa legs shattered and the piece of furniture buckled to the floor – right below where the big man manhandled Bennett’s ass so intensely. Neither man reaping the benefits of Bud’s super strong hand seemed to notice that the couch broke. Bud looked over at me with a face full of joy at what he had just accomplished. I smiled at him approvingly. By the sound of the quickened moans of both police officers, Bud realized they were both about to unload their cum-filled ball sacs. The big man did not want his fun to end so soon and I sensed that he had some sort of devilish plan for his two play toys. He released Bennett’s ass and the large man fell on top of Derek, plunging his hard tool into the man and then they both lay there for a few seconds – resting from being forced around by the behemoth that stood above them as if they were children’s dolls. Soon, Bennett began the slow thrusting of his crotch and began to fuck Derek’s ass deeper than before – mainly because Bud’s strength had definitely reamed the older cops hole much more open. I watched in joyful anticipation as my old muscle man brought his left hand up to his face and slid his long, thick forefinger in his mouth. He closed his lips around the appendage between his lips and I could see that he was making sure it was totally lathered with his saliva. Bud then brought his hand back to Bennett’s ass and teasingly pressed the huge finger between the big cop’s cheeks. I knew that Bud was pressing the thick tip of his finger against the opening of Bennett’s hole, because suddenly the younger cop paused the slow thrusts of his cock and arched backwards, while he moaned loudly. I then saw the muscled finger get shoved into the hole with great force. Bennett actually screamed out loud – not because of the size, since Bud’s enormous cock had already been in that ass – but because of the tremendous power behind the finger. Then, as quickly as he had felt the pain, he adjusted to the intrusion and his body began it’s rocking motion from earlier. Bud carefully slid a second long finger into the now inviting hole of the ass below him. The big man was able to match, with his fingers, Bennett’s methodic pulsing action to bring the younger cop the same great sensation Derek was receiving. I glanced up at Bud’s face in time to see a thought come into his mind like a light bulb turning on. The big man removed his middle finger from Bennett’s ass and then slid his forefinger in deeply - all the way to the top end of the now wide hole of the handsome cop. By the movement of his hand I could tell that Bud was hooking the top part of his finger around the upper part of Bennett’s interior sphincter. My mouth dropped open in amazement as it began to dawn on me what my monster daddy intended to do. With strength that was still able to amaze me, even after everything I had already seen the man do, Bud lifted Bennett’s body into the air with just his finger that was hooked to the insides of the bulging ass. The younger cop moaned so deeply and loudly that it didn’t sound human. I was sure that the man had never felt anything like this before. I then noticed that Bennett had wrapped his strong arms, well strong for any normal man, around Derek beneath him – pulling the older cop’s body tightly to his. As Bud lifted the top man like a fisherman might raise a fish on a hook, I became aware that both men were actually about a foot above the sofa. I did not know if a man’s anus cavity could take this kind of abuse, but, from the sounds that were being emitted from Bennett’s mouth, I knew it was giving him much pleasure. He used his arms to hold Derek close to him and they interlocked their legs. Derek’s huge smile made it clear that he knew the fucking strength of the mature muscleman was easily lifting both men into the air. He had no idea, though, how it was being done. I made a mental note to share the story with him later – knowing it would probably cause him to shoot another load. Bud wanted to show off a little, so he turned around in a small circle, causing the bodies to float around the room even with the giant man’s waist. Bennett’s face told me there was some pain caused by my strongman’s action, but the pleasure it produced was obviously greater. When both men were dangling over the sofa again Bud straightened his finger and the intertwined bodies fell with a heavy bounce to the cushions of the busted piece of furniture below. I heard more wood breaking, but the moans of joy that the motion caused in the two policemen was much louder. Bennett immediately resumed his plowing of Derek’s ass – clearly now turned on even more. “Well, boys, that was a lot of fun, wasn’t it. Now, what about something really freakish to make your muscle worshipping afternoon complete?” Bud asked, looking at the two cops below him. It had been a while since someone had spoken, so his voice surprised us all a little. I could tell that the old man had some kind of fantasy-busting display of strength on his mind. His little butt play had thrilled the younger cop a lot, so now he wanted to do something to make Derek very happy. I knew it would involve using his strength – because that’s what turned the older cop on the most. “I want you to just keep doing what you’re doing. I think Bennett has longed for this fucking for a quite some time, and something tells me that Derek has also always wanted it subconsciously. I’m just going to make your little sex session even more pleasurable, if that’s okay with you fellas.” “Umgfh, whatever you want, umgfh, sir. So, umgf, fucking strong,” was all Derek was able to get out between thrusts of Bennett’s fat cock. Some primal grunting from Bennett followed this comment. This was all the encouragement the humongous god-like Stevens needed. He rubbed his big hands together and smiled with utter glee. He glanced at me, winked, and then turned back to the sofa. “How ‘bout if I help you guys see what it would feel like to be two superheroes fucking each other while you fly through the air?” Bud asked and I could hear the excitement in his voice. Derek, Bennett, and I all three yelled yes at the same time. This made gigantic Bud laugh out loud. “Bennett, my man, you just keep plowing that ass and hold on tight,” my lover said, as he bent over and reached between the sofa cushions and Derek’s body with his arms spread wide - one palm turned upward at Derek’s chest and the other one at his thighs. Derek crossed his ankles in anticipation of what was coming. Bud stood up straight. The two men came off the sofa as if they were one big barbell that my old man Stevens held easily at his waist. He didn’t lift like some strongmen picking up heavy weights, those that do it quickly so they can use the momentum to help. No, the senior Hercules brought both men into the air so easily it looked like he was picking up a folded blanket. He then curled both bodies up to his chest as if in slow motion – just to prove to all of us that the limits of what he could do had not even begun to be explored. My cock was rock hard by the time that Bud turned to face me with the big bodies of the two cops held a short distance from his massive chest – not against his pecs for support, but about a half-a-foot out like he wasn’t holding anything. I looked at the man’s two biceps, which were clearly larger than the two men’s waists put together – and not because of any kind of pump from the strain of lifting so much weight, for I could see that Bud barely registered he was curling almost six hundred pounds. Those two mounds of muscles that bulged out in all directions looked like two beach balls covered in skin. My muscle daddy brought his face to the clenched ass of Bennett and bit teasingly at the two rounded cheeks. He then forced his tongue, which seemed to match the strength of his body, down into the crevice of the younger man’s butt. The power of Bud’s huge tongue actually made the tight cheeks push apart as it snaked lower, even though I knew the cop wasn’t lessening how tightly he squeezed. I heard Bennett moan loudly and I knew the tip of Bud’s fat wet python was penetrating the guy’s closed hole. Each time the big man shot his tongue into Bennett’s ass, the younger cop pushed his own cock further into Derek’s hole below. It was quite obvious that Bud’s tongue could have caused Bennett to lose his load into the older man’s insides, but the big man had other plans. He ended his oral abuse of the man’s tight ass and moved on to something more fun. I watched Bud lower the bodies back to waist level. He carefully kept his giant palms flat during the movement so the two cops could continue their slow fuck. Bud moved his long fingers toward the floor and I saw that the two bodies began to slide off. Right as the bodies reached the big man’s fingertips, he flicked his hands upward. There was no way I could have been prepared for what happened next. My mouth dropped open in amazement as the two huge cops went flying into the air and turned over – even as they continued to be joined together by cock in ass. Bud easily caught the bodies as they came back down from their trip through the air – with Bennett’s upper back and legs now landing in the waiting huge palms of the big man. Derek yelled out loudly when they landed and I wasn’t sure if it was because of the younger cop’s cock being shoved further into his ass from the impact or because he was so amazed at what the elder muscleman was able to do so easily. Bud looked up at me with a face full of pride. “Pretty cool, huh? Just like flapjacks,” the big man said, beaming. Bud glanced back down at the bodies below. He easily repeated the same motion, as before, and sent the two bodies back into the air, spinning. He caught the two cops again, with palms at Derek’s chest and thighs. The two men, even in the midst of fucking, moaned loudly to show their pleasure at what the big man had just done. Bud then raised the two men into the air, turning his palms so he was pressing both above his head. Here was my strong, giant boyfriend holding both men in the air as Bennett continued to slowly force his cock into Derek’s ass. It was like no other sight I had ever seen – well, until all the things Bud had done earlier today. It was still amazing, though. I have always had a fetish for big men lifting other men over their head, but here was my boyfriend lifting two guys above him – and they continued to fuck as if they were lying on a bed. It did kind of look like two superheroes making love as they flew through the air. “Hey, little men, we got to put some weight on both of you if I’m going to keep lifting your bodies like this. It doesn’t feel like I’m hoisting two big police officers, it feels like a large helium-filled balloon. We’re going to have to strap a bunch of forty-pound weights to your body or maybe we’ll call all the guys at your precinct to come over and stack all of you on top of each other. I don’t think that would even give my colossal guns a good work out, though. We’re just going to have to find something super fucking heavy for me to press up and down. I don’t want to get weak from lack of exercise, that’s for sure.” Bud laughed hard as he pressed the bodies of both men up and down a few times and I saw that Bennett’s back came close to the ceiling. The two cops definitely registered that the gargantuan senior citizen they had just met was easily pressing their bodies into the air, but they both continued to focus on the pleasure they were getting from one man’s cock and the other man’s ass. Bud bent his legs slightly so he would be able to extend his arms up and down more quickly and not worry about sending the two men through the ceiling. The sight brought back many childhood memories of old sword and sandal movies where the Greek hero lifted some guy above his head, but the biggest difference was how easy my real-life Hercules made it look. In the movies, the hero would lift the guy quickly and always got help by the giant leap from the guy he was pressing overhead. I had watched this massive muscleman lift two guys slowly and effortlessly – and he had been holding them in the air for quite a long time by this point. There wasn’t any kind of strain showing from any part of his body; as a matter of fact he looked totally relaxed. If we had been outside I was sure that Bud could have tossed both men about twenty stories high and then easily caught them. I also believed the two cops would have continued to fuck through the entire trip into the air and back. “It’s time for me to help you get your rocks off, boys,” Bud said as he continued to lift the two men overhead. “Let’s see if I can add a little to the ocean motion of your bodies. Hold on tight to your man, Bennett, it’s going to be a bumpy ride. Hey, Connor, how about a little counting to see how quickly these guys lose their loads. I predict we don’t make it to twenty and that’s a shame because I think it would take about two hundred reps for me to even register that I’m lifting something. That’s okay, though. I want to help these two guys have the best fuck ever. Here we go, gentleman.” I saw that Bennett wrapped his arms more tightly around the body below him. Both men also tightened the grip of their intertwined legs. Suddenly, Bud started pressing the two men into the air with what seemed like super speed. By the time he had gone up and down three times I realized I had not begun to count. I immediately started counting, even though I was behind. I watched closely as the two men’s bodies went up and down – even coming off Bud’s hands a little. Bennett held on tightly, which helped to keep the two men’s upper bodies together. But the force of the giant’s reps caused Bennett’s crotch to go into the air, pulling away from Derek’s ass, every time it went upward. This meant that the impact when they came down was intensified and a hundred times more pleasurable. Both men began to scream like two teenagers on a huge rollercoaster. I could see, and hear, that Bennett’s cock was slamming into Derek’s ass with an unbelievable powerful thrust. The entire time that the two bodies were being easily rocked up and down by Bud’s monstrous arms, the big man increased the pleasure by describing the situation loudly. “Fuck yeah, this old man is tossing your bodies around like you were two Raggedy Andy dolls. Lifting you two is nothing for my arms. I’m making that Bennett cock plunge deeper into that Derek ass. Yeah, I’m going to make you two shoot so hard that your body will need a week to recover.” Bud seemed lost in some muscle-crazed world. He had lifted both men about eight times, when I heard the child-like screams of both men turn into deep powerful growls that indicated the much-anticipated cock explosions were about to happen. “That’s it boys – shoot your man-juice for this muscle daddy. Let these fucking huge, strong muscles milk you dry. Cum, NOW!” Bud’s super-sonic voice surprised me so much that I instantly stopped counting and thought I might piss in my pants. I was jolted out of my temporary fear only by the screams of complete orgasmic joy coming from the mouths of the two cops. Stevens held the two men’s bodies frozen above his head as both jerked wildly from the powerful ejaculation. It was clear that Bennett’s body was emptying its largest load of cum ever into the worn-out ass of his partner, while Derek’s hard pole sent a stream of semen all over Bud’s giant chest below. The thick, white cream-like sauce made criss-cross patterns all over those two giant hard pecs. I forced myself not to shoot my load – knowing I wanted to wait and offer it to my muscleman boyfriend later. Soon, the bodies of the two cops ceased to flap around, like two giant fish out of water, in the big hands of Bud Stevens. Everyone in the room, except the man easily holding the two guys in the air, was breathing hard and trying to prevent their hearts from stopping. I knew that the two cops were doing the same thing I was, re-living in our minds the incredible sight of Bud Stevens pumping their bodies up and down as they pumped each other. I became slightly envious of their view from above his monstrous body, but also knew that my ringside seat had been perfect. Bud lowered the two cops to the floor, being careful to hold on to their bodies because he knew their legs would be weak. He wrapped his arms around their waist and pulled them into his body. Their faces were even with his cum-covered chest. Bud straightened his legs and the feet of both men left the ground. “Look at the mess you two caused,” Bud said looking down at his protruding pecs. “I think you two need to help clean me up.” Neither man needed any other words to be spoken. They immediately started licking the Derek-juice that covered the hard muscle in front of them. It was obvious that Bennett wanted to get the most. Old Man Stevens – Part 8: Bud Plays with Metal I was slowly beginning to realize that my massive, senior boyfriend’s abilities were causing my deepest muscle fantasies to seem puny and childish. Old man Stevens appeared to have strength beyond anything I had ever dreamed of and a body that was chiseled from some kind of unknown super-hard stone or metal. I was still trying to get my mind around the fact that the magnificent man was probably indestructible, but was that truly possible? These were the thoughts that streamed through my head as I watched the two buffed policemen lick streaks of cum off of my muscle master’s chest. The two officers acted like, and actually looked like, two starving children let loose in a candy store. They had to slightly jump up in the air to get high enough to reach the upper part of the huge man’s chest. The room was filled with only slurping sounds and moans of pleasure as their lips and tongues came in contact with the super-pumped, hard muscle of Bud Stevens. My cock was hard as a two-by-four as I monitored the cleaning job. I was beginning to realize that this was going to be a permanent state for my dick - now that I was in the presence of the muscle daddy of all muscle daddies. Just gazing at the big man’s mountainous shoulders, super-pumped-up arms, and expansive chest was enough to make any man - gay or straight - ejaculate without even touching himself. “That’s enough boys; papa’s going to take you for a little ride. I need to do some work on a man’s car! We all better put on some clothes, because we’re going outside. I think the only thing around here that’s going to fit me, though, is a sheet from the king-size bed. You get dressed and I’ll be right back.” The big man pushed the smaller policemen away from his body and exited down the hallway, having to bend over to fit through the door. Derek, Bennett, and I scrambled around the room grabbing pants and shirts. By the time Stevens came back into the room we were mostly dressed. I smiled when I saw that my golden-aged muscle daddy had used the bed sheet to make a kilt-like wrap for his waist. He looked just like a bare-chested Hercules from some sword and sandal film. No, he actually looked too big to be an actor from some film; he more resembled some gigantic Greek statue that might be found standing in the middle of Athens. I hoped to God that the makeshift skirt would stay wrapped around the man, especially if his freakish cock decided to get hard. “So let’s get the three of you on my shoulders. I know there will be enough room for about three more after that, but that will make the ride more pleasant. Let’s start with you, my little boyfriend,” he said turning to me. I walked over and stood in front of him. He motioned for me to turn around. Bud bent his knees and then grabbed my waist, lifting my body over his head so I was sitting like a small child with my legs draped down his chest and my hard cock pressed up against the back of his head. He then motioned to Derek, who walked over and climbed onto his right shoulder. Bennett did the same on his left shoulder. I looked to both sides and saw that, indeed, there was enough space to add a few more people to Stevens- wide shoulders. “Hang on tight, boys, it’s going to be a bumpy ride,” Bud said jokingly; as he got on his knees to maneuver all of us out the front door. The ceiling in the hallway was very high, thankfully, so Bud was able to stand erect. The big man carried the weight of all three of us like we were nothing. He stepped to the railing just across the landing and swung one leg over - followed by the other one. Then, suddenly and without warning, he jumped out into the open space in the middle of the staircase. It didn’t really dawn on me what was happening until we were soaring through the air - downward to the floor, five stories below. Bud held on to the three of us tightly. I anticipated that the impact would be painful when the big man’s body met the floor, but his muscled legs somehow absorbed a lot of the shock and we were jostled about only slightly. I looked down at his feet and noticed that there were now many cracks in the floor - caused by his powerful body hitting it so hard. “That was fun,” Stevens said laughing, “We’ll have to try that someday from the top of the building. What do my little men think about that?” “Yes!” We all three yelled at the same time. My huge boyfriend carefully opened the front door and carefully moved his body, including the three of us, out into the evening air. I was very glad that we didn’t live on a busy street because I was suddenly nervous that the sight of Bud would frighten most people. When we got to the large mechanical metal gate that slid back and forth to let cars in and out of the garage, Bud stopped. I immediately realized we both had forgotten our key to the small door at the far right side of the gate and my opener was in my car - parked inside.. “Well boys, it looks like this old man is going to have to do a little bar bending. Let me set you down so you can get a good look at my muscle work,” Bud said, as he knelt down allowing us to slide off his massive shoulders. We immediately gathered to one side as the big man walked up to the gate, not wanting to miss any of the show. The gate had thick metal bars, running up and down, close together to prevent anyone from getting through. Bud looked at the bars and then turned to us, giving a big eat-shit grin. “They think these bars can keep little old me from getting in. What do you think, Connor?” “I think there’s nothing little about you, Bud,” I said teasingly. “Good answer, man, good answer. I think I’ll show you boys, again, what incredible fucking power exists in just my forefingers. Does that sound like a plan?” he asked, knowing our answer already. “Yes,” was the reply from all of us. Bud wasted no time. He wrapped both of his long, thick forefingers around two bars in front of him, but then he got another idea. The big guy realized that his fingers were so huge that each of them could hook around two bars each, so that’s what he did. I could also tell he knew that the gap he made would have to be pretty big to get his body through. Bud barely pulled, but suddenly the night air was filled with the sound of metal being bent apart by fingers that obviously had the power of two Hummers, maybe even more. The two police officers and I watched, as many bars on either side were easily pulled apart in the middle, causing a big gap in the gate. We all knew this took little effort from the muscle gramps in front of us, but it still turned us on. Each man realized that all three of us together would not have been able to even slightly bend one bar, let alone maneuver four of them apart as if it was as easy as pulling back a cloth shower curtain. Bud stood back after the hole looked big enough for each man to pass through. He turned to us and held up both forefingers. “That was too easy. Those bars bent like they were made of wet toilet paper. These fuckers have more power than tanks. Shit, that gets me horny,” he said smiling and flexing his fingers up and down. “Me too,” Derek answered and we all laughed. “After you, my little muscle worshipping puppies. The real show is about to begin inside,” Bud held out his hand as he said this, inviting us through the gaping hole in the gate. Derek, Bennett and I slid through easily and then turned around to watch the big man squeeze his massive torso between the bent bars. As Bud bent down and turned his body sideways to come through, everyone realized quickly that his massive chest and back were too thick for the opening. He only got his head and shoulders, turned perpendicular, beyond the bars before hard muscle at his front and back wedged in solidly. If we had not known better, it would have looked like the big man was stuck. Bud tilted his head up, looked at us, and, again, grinned in a way that made our cocks stir with excitement. “Here’s a little muscle show interlude to keep your cocks hard until the big finale,” Bud said and then, with little indication, he took a deep breath. His chest expanded, pressing his solid muscles against the bars on either side of him. You could see that his body was so hard that the bars made no indention into his skin; it was like metal pressing against metal. Suddenly, there were many loud popping sounds - almost like gunshots - as the top of six bars, three on either side of Bud’s body, snapped free from the heavy beam above. Our elder muscle man had caused metal to rip apart just by inhaling deeply. He was now able to easily move his body into the garage to join us. I was so impressed by the power of my senior boyfriend’s chest muscles that I completely missed the moans of enjoyment coming from the two police officers. They both had their hands down their pants and were stroking their hard cocks furiously. The three of us stared at the opening in the gate. It looked like some battering ram had busted through, and, in a way, it had. The metal bars were completely bent outward, abused by something much more powerful. Bud looked at me, with a face full of pride, just like a little boy. “Did you like that Connor? Did you like how this massive chest destroyed that metal easily?” Bud asked, smiling. “You know I did,” I answered, and then added teasingly, “Now don’t forget to fix it. I don’t want the homeowners association after me.” “Little Connor doesn’t have to ever worry about anyone being after him again, now that Super Bud is here,” he replied as he bent down to give me a kiss. “But I’ll still fix it, don?t worry. Just for you, honey.” The huge man turned back to the gate. He reached up with his just his forefinger and thumb, pulling the first pole back to its place. With just the tug of his fingers he was able to force the metal bar back to its straight position. The three of us watched, with our mouths open wide, as Bud molded the end of the pole back into the metal beam at the top, as if he was working with clay. When he was finished with the first one it looked like some professional welder had done the job. I could actually see thumbprints in the manhandled steel. It took Bud about three minutes to put all the bars back in place and I knew they were now actually stronger than before. The big man wiped his soot-covered fingers on his abs as he surveyed his work. “Damn, I love working with metal. It’s so easy to manipulate, don’t you know. We got to try this with some giant I-beams soon, don’t you agree Connor?” he turned to me as he spoke. “Just think of the time I could save a construction company. Hell, I could probably build a skyscraper with just these big paws. That would be a fun challenge.” “Aw, fuck man, you’ve got to give my cock a break, please,” Derek moaned loudly. We turned to look at the two policemen. They both had their pants at their ankles and were busy yanking their cocks with full force. It was an incredibly sexy sight - cops with their pants down and stroking hard-ons. I could tell both men needed a break from the lust overload caused by my big boyfriend, but they also couldn’t help but beat themselves furiously while watching Bud bend metal so easily and talk about his strength with so much self-assurance. I was worried that one of the two was going to have a hemorrhage from beating off so much. “Sorry about that little man, I just can’t get over what this senior-citizen body can do. I must have the strength of about two hundred guys your age - put together. Shit, it gets me so fucking horny just thinking about what these massive, old-man arms can do. I’m so ready to put these big-gun muscles to a more challenging test. Would that be okay with you?” Bud asked as he tensed his arms teasingly. “Fuck yeah, muscle master, fuck yeah,” Derek said and he began to slide his hand up and down his rigid cock even harder. “Then let’s move this little party to that Cadillac over there,” the big man said, with a flick of his solid chin and a big smile. All of us followed Bud as he walked to the car. We were like little children excited about some kind of magic trick about to be performed, but deep down each man knew whatever the big guy was going to do to the car in front of him was not going to be a trick and it would be phenomenal. “I need to first take care of the windows,” the hulking man said, to no one in particular. He was guy on a mission and, at that point, and we didn’t exist. He gave no warning as he raised both of his hands to the right side windows where he stood. He made circles with his forefingers and thumbs and then thumped both the front and back side windows at the same time. Glass shattered and was sent flying into the interior of the car. Both Derek and Bennett yelped out loud. I was too stunned to make any noise. Bud then moved towards the back of the car and quickly brought a huge fist down against the long rear window. The entire window cracked into millions of pieces, stayed in place for a while like it was a slow motion movie, and then crumpled into the back seat of the car. I was completely in awe of the man’s power. I could sense that Bennett and Derek had resumed the hard pumping of their cocks, but I just stood there shocked by what my big boyfriend had done so easily. I was so stunned that I almost missed the fact that Bud walked around the car and basically poked the two windows on the other side with his forefingers, causing them to explode into tiny pieces and go flying into the middle of the Cadillac. Little did I know that my favorite part would come next - when the senior muscle man stepped toward the front of the car and swiftly brought his forehead down into the middle of the front windshield and, again, blasted fragments of glass into the front seat. I watched as the man straightened up and wiped particles of glass from his face - which had not even the slightest blemish from his display of power. “That was sweet,” Bud said loudly. “Next let’s give this puppy a muscle daddy power elbow drop.” Without waiting for any comment from us, the big man raised his right arm up in the air, turned his body sideways and, since he towered over the car already, basically let his massive upper frame and his bulging triceps come down hard in the middle of the roof of the car. His bulk hit so strongly that the top of the car dented quickly into the bottom part of the automobile’s frame, causing the ends to spring up in a v-shape. Bud looked like some giant wrestler that had just leapt from the top ring rope at the corner turnbuckle onto a smaller body lying on the canvas below. Now I understood why he had busted the windows in advance. The power from his drop on the car would have caused the windows to explode in every direction, showering the garage with hurricane force shards of flying glass. The sound of the car being flattened in the middle by this humongous human sledgehammer was deafening. All four tires simultaneously burst before both ends of the car shot up in the air - as the middle of the car smacked against the cement below. Bud quickly raised his body off the vehicle and stepped back. We all looked at the amazing damage that just a simple power drive from his enormous body had inflicted on the car. It really did look like the letter ‘V’ now that the middle rested on the floor of the garage, flattened roughly, and the ends stuck up in what seemed to be sixty degree angles. “Fuck, that was easy,” Bud said, laughing hard. “I crushed the damn thing with just a little slam from this huge body. That gets me so fucking horny. Get ready for some ass pounding when I’m finished, boys. I can tell that my cock is going to need to plant some of my mega-man seed deep in your holes when I am done.” I looked down and saw that the makeshift kilt Bud was wearing looked like it had a huge log sticking out - making the sheet rise in the air. He was looking at the two policemen as he spoke and they were now breathing hard and sweating in anticipation of what was to come, as they stroked their stiffer-than-hell dicks. I knew they could hear what the big man was saying, but all they really registered was what his huge muscles had just done to the Cadillac. “Let’s see if I can come true on my promise to compact this car into the size of a suitcase,” Bud said, turning back to the demolished piece of junk in front of him. Old Man Stevens – Part 9: Bud Fucks a Cadillac The two ends of the Cadillac shot up into the air almost even with my head. Bud Stevens had power-slammed the top of the car with just his large body, using so much force that the center of the roof was now smashed into the floor of the car crushing everything inside and causing the vehicle to look like a giant letter ‘V’. The man before me, who seemed to be getting more massive all the time, walked up to the back of the car and rested his big hands on the bumper. There was a loud scraping noise as he suddenly and easily pushed the car a few feet until the front end bumped into the heavy stoned wall of the garage. Bud began to press on the back part of the car with as little effort as it would take a regular man to fold a piece of paper, causing it to move upward and compacted into the front part. The vehicle was being crushed between the wall and the super strength of my older boyfriend. I watched his arm muscles explode in every direction as he pressed steel together like it was nothing more than aluminum foil. Who knew the sound of a car being folded into itself would be so deafening? Then again, who would have ever thought that a human would be able to crush a car into half its size? By this time I was stroking my hard cock without even thinking about it, as were the other two men behind me. I was moving very slow and methodically, not wanting to cum until the much anticipated finale. I didn’t know what the big finish would be, but I was sure it was going to be amazing. I knew that Derek and Bennett wanted to prolong their impending eruptions in the same way. By this time, Bud was holding the demolished slab of steel up against the wall. The front axle and two flat tires connected to it were now even with the back ones. Bud had bent the car completely into half its size, crushing the roof as he did it. If he removed his hand I knew the flattened car would fall to the floor like a pancake being dropped on a griddle, I knew it would now take most people a few minutes to even register that the piece of junk used to be a car. Then with a force like that of a giant missile, the huge old man pulled back his massive arm and sent a fist into the middle of the square piece of compacted steel in front of him. Before I could even register what he was doing, Bud’s fist was pulled back and then sent into the thick metal bottom of the car a second time, right below where it had hit earlier. I gasped out loud when I saw his knuckles blast painlessly into the heavy steel, leaving imprints of his fingers. My mind could not even begin to fathom what power existed in his hand because the truth was that the entire piece of junk was even thicker because it was folded together. I watched, astounded, as my behemoth lover pummeled the slab of metal in a straight line up and down the middle. The force of his blows made the wall behind the crushed car shake and crack. Dust from above showered the two policemen and me and I was aware enough to worry that the building might not be able to handle the strength of the big guy and fall down on top of us. Bud stepped back from the unrecognizable car. It stood in place since his pounding had caused the two sides to fold in. It looked like a giant piece of modern art shaped like an opened book standing up. With just his fists, old man Stevens had compressed the middle of the already doubled car causing the beginning of another indention. He was bending the car in on itself like someone would fold and crease a cloth napkin. “It feels like I’m punching a feather pillow,” Stevens said loudly, causing me to move my gaze from the manhandled auto to the pumped up muscle man. He was looking down at his fists. “I’m sure, if I punched hard enough, I could send one of these powerful battering rams completely through the car and the wall behind it. I’m sure I have enough strength to bust a hole through anything. Did you see how easily I pounded that metal, Connor? What do you think of that?” “I think I’m fucking glad you’re on my side,” I replied honestly and lustfully. “Come here, my little, beautiful man,” Bud said, motioning to me with one of his muscled fingers. I walked over to him. “The only thing these hands will ever do to you is caress you gently.” Bud let one of his forefingers, which had recently bent metal bars as if they were rubber bands, slide gently down my cheek. This simple expression of intimacy caused my entire body to shiver with excitement. I continued to slowly stroke my aching, pre-cum covered cock. “But just give me the word, my lover, and I’ll send someone or something into orbit with just one punch. Just standing this close to you makes me feel more powerful than a fleet of battleships. I want to constantly show off my strength for you.” “Then finish the job on this old, piece-of-shit car,” I said and smiled at my giant boyfriend. “Hell yeah,” Derek said loudly. Without turning I could tell something was happening behind me – just by the way the police officer moaned his words. When I did look I was not shocked to find Bennett on his knees in front of the older police officer sliding his open mouth up and down the other man’s engorged cock. This was a dream come true for the younger cop. It was obvious that the lust for his partner could now be unleashed just because Derek was so in awe of Bud Stevens’ strength. The older man’s desire for my boyfriend made any previous fear of man-on-man sex totally disappear. Derek would have given himself to Bud right then and there, but he also was willing to let his partner service him. Bennett no longer cared about what my huge lover was able to do, he only desired to suck ever last drop of the other cop’s soon to be released cum. “Please show us what your fucking body can do, Mr. Stevens!” Derek managed to get these words out in between gasps of pleasure being caused by the excellent blow job he was receiving. “With pleasure little man,” replied Stevens, “anything to help you get your rocks off.” I stepped back a few feet as Bud returned to the car. He spread his massive arms out and grabbed hold of both sides of the semi-folded piece of metal. His back muscles expanded beyond belief as he started applying pressure to both halves, making the car press into itself again. His back looked wide enough, not to mention sturdy enough, to land a small plane on. His biceps and triceps seemed to double in size as he squashed the car together so it was one long piece of metal - the size of a wide thick door. Once the steel piece of junk was compressed together tightly, Stevens removed his hands and the tall chunk of car fell to the ground with a heavy thud. The noise caused me to jump a little, but I noticed that Bennett never stopped sliding Derek’s thick cock up and down his throat. I could tell that the incredible strength display, on top of the oral work being done on his dick, was bringing the older cop closer to the cum explosion of his lifetime. It was obvious; again, that Derek loved my older boyfriend’s power more than anything in the world. I turned back towards the car in time to see a huge bare foot come down hard in the middle of the now oblong block of metal. Again, both ends of the much smaller and compacted car shot up into the air. Bud then removed his foot and bent down to grab hold of one side of the dented piece of scrap. With one hand he easily pressed the end over into the other side, molding the Cadillac into a lump of metal the size of an old time steamer chest used when traveling. The big man had easily kept his promise of folding Mr. Jenkins’ car into the size of a suitcase. His incredible display of power had brought me close to releasing the built up cum screaming to escape my body. I knew that every man in the garage, including Bud, was close to shooting his load. Stevens’ hard cock was still causing the make-shift kilt to tent up obscenely. “And now, gentleman, your older muscle daddy is going to give you a super power treat,” Stevens said with a slight laugh. “At the same time, I’m going to give each of your bodies the release it so desperately needs. And we will do it in an orderly fashion and as if your cocks are giving my muscles a three gun salute. Your tiny bodies will wait for my command.” My entire being instantly reacted as if I was some kind of puppy hearing its owner’s bossy voice. I knew I would not cum until Stevens said it was time. I also knew that both of the policemen, still in the middle of their heavy suck off session, felt the exact same way. I continued to yank on my cock, but my body waited for its master’s command. I looked at the muscled monster in front of me and gasped out loud, again, as he undid the sheet around his waist, freeing his enormous, hard cock. I seriously doubted I would ever get used to the sight of his vein-covered, muscled rod. Meanwhile, Bud had bent down and placed his hands on the side of the big block of compressed metal in front of him. I watched as his fingers dug into the crushed steel - so easily that it seemed as if it were a stick of butter that had been resting on a counter for hours. The big man stood up and lifted the compacted car, making it look as weightless as a stack of folded laundry. I stopped the motion of my hand on my cock and stood there dumbfounded as I watched Bud hold the demolished car up against the head of his monster dick. His arm muscles tensed and bugled as he pulled his hands toward his body slowly, causing his cock to push into the smashed piece of metal. I jumped a little when I heard the noise of screaming steel while it was being forced to re-shape by his powerful, harder-than-iron member. “Fucking no way,” moaned Derek as he watched the unbelievable muscle show in front of him. Bennett never stopped to see what was going on; he was enjoying the taste of his partner’s cock too much. Bud’s own stronger-than-anything tool was shoving its way deeper into the crushed car. I finally inhaled, before I passed out, having basically shut down completely as I marveled at what my senior boyfriend was doing. His cock was like a super human drill – able to penetrate a Cadillac that had been folded over three times by equally powerful, monstrous arms. The screeching noise stopped when his stiff prick was completely buried in the big block of metal. “Damn, that felt good boys!” shouted Bud. “It was tighter than any ass I’ll ever fuck and I don’t have to worry about plowing too hard and hurting someone. Even tons of steel can’t hold up to the muscle power of this body. I can’t wait to test this cock on other things, like a thick concrete wall or the side of a mountain. Get ready Derek, because what you’re about to see is going to make you shoot like you’ve never cum before. Bennett will follow and we’ll end our little show with you, Connor, my love.” With that comment, Bud pulled his fingers from their indentions at the sides of the metal block and let go. He immediately blasted his mega arms up into a double biceps pose. The big heap of metal dipped down slightly, a quick sign of how heavy it was - even for Bud, but that didn’t last long. We all watched in awe as his powerful rod stiffened and rose, causing the popsicle-like piece of metal attached to it to lift into the air. Teasingly, the giant man made his big dick go up and down a few more times. When it would tilt downward the clump of metal did not move even an inch, showing how tightly packed it was around his cock. “See how this senior muscle master can lift an entire car with just his cock! I could do this all day long.” Bud was getting off on his own abilities – almost as much as we were. “Now let’s build up a little more pressure, shall we.” Bud reached down and grabbed the sides of the steel mass around his cock. Again, his fingers easily dug into the sides. With his powerful arms he held the mass in place and then pulled his crotch backwards, causing his dick to slide out of the hole it had created. He pulled his stiff rod all the way out and then quickly slammed it back into the packed metal a few inches away from his previous hole. This time the screeching sound was doubled because of the lightning speed and force of his cock. Bud also let out a deep growl at the same time and it seemed louder than the screaming, pummeled steel. Bud continued to pick up speed as his hips bucked back and forth causing his cock to poke new holes into the block of demolished car each time. His growls turned into sonic-like moans that caused the entire garage to shake. I could tell by the sweat forming on his muscled body and the veins that were bursting out all over his arms, legs, and forehead that my gigantic boyfriend was very near his upcoming cum explosion. I had begun to jerk my own cock at the same speed that he pounded his into the car and I could tell by the moans coming from Bennett and Derek that they were keeping up, as well. “Aw, fucking hell yeah, boys, here we go. Don’t you dare shoot until I give the command. Just . . . stay . . . focused . . . on . . . how . . . my . . . cock . . . easily . . . destroys . . . this . . . car!” Stevens yelled and shoved his powerful dick deeper into the mass of metal in between each word. I was beginning to doubt that my wasted body could wait much longer. I could also tell by the screams of pleasure coming from Derek behind me that he was ready to either explode or collapse from a heart attack. I knew he was shoving his cock deep into Bennett’s throat as he watched my powerful boyfriend fuck what used to be a Cadillac - but was now just a massive piece of abused junk. Bud let out a sound that seemed inhuman and at the same time he thrust his cock even deeper into the steel mass in his hands. “Fuck yeah!” He yelled. “Cum now, Derek!” At that exact moment I heard the older police officer shout loudly as he came in the waiting mouth of his partner. The sound abruptly stopped as Derek’s entire body went into ejaculation overload. I heard the younger officer gagging as he tried to swallow all of the Bud-muscle induced semen that was shooting from the cock in his mouth. “Your turn, Bennett. Shoot!” boomed the big man. The younger officer obviously started spraying cum everywhere and I could hear it splattering on the garage floor. It sounded like someone had turned on a hose to wash down the concrete. Bennett also started yelling uncontrollably to match the powerful jerking of his body, but the scream was muffled because of the hard cock in his mouth. “Connor, let’s shoot together,” Bud yelled, as he stared at me and pressed his cock even further into the metal mass. “Now, Connor, now!” Our bodies erupted at the same time. I fought off the need to close my eyes. I stared straight ahead at my massive boyfriend, but I could see my own cum flying into the air towards him. I’m sure some of it landed on his incredible legs – even though he was pretty far away. The muscled body of my boyfriend started shaking violently as his cock spewed his man juice into the car wrapped around it. It felt like I might black out, but I forced myself to stay alert so I could see everything. Streaks of cum, mixed with dark oil, started to stream down the tree-trunk-sized legs of Bud Stevens. It was a beautiful sight. I watched as the fluids trickled over the bulging striated thighs, between deep indentions in his legs, and then across his flared, pumped calves. There was no other sound in the garage, except the grunts and moans of the huge man. My own cock stopped thrusting its milky substance into the room long before Bud’s body even thought about ceasing. He continued to pump his cock and juice into the battered piece of metal that conveniently took the place of some big guy’s tight ass. I knew it was true that Bud would have really hurt a normal man if he had fucked him as hard as he impaled the battered chunk of metal in his hands. When Bud’s body was finally finished shooting, he slid the remains of the car off of his huge piece of meat and lifted it above his head. “Shit, that was fantastic,” he yelled. “Wait until Jenkins sees what I did to his car. He’s going to shoot buckets of cum just from realizing that I destroyed his Cadillac with my bare hands. I wish I could be here when he figures out that the holes in this thing are from my power cock. Connor, we’ve got to find some other bigger things for me to destroy. I bet I can get you so excited your cum will fly as far as a city block. Watch this, little man.” Bud brought his hands quickly down and sent the crushed car flying into the floor of the garage. I jumped back when the big block of steel hit the cement and sunk halfway into the ground. Bud looked like some huge football player slamming a ball into the ground in the end zone. My deflated cock shot hard again as soon as I realized Bud had demolished both concrete and part of the car at the same time. “Connor, my man, the fun has just begun,” said Bud with a big grin on his face.

I dusted off an old, partially written story (I have many of them) and added a second chapter (and a few more). Hope you enjoy it. Let me know if I should continue. The Storm Chapter 1 The storm was coming. Even though the forecasts and long range models still drew diverging pathways on the maps, and the meteorologists still spoke in percentages and probabilities, I could tell this storm was headed straight toward me. I also knew that where I lived and the beach where I loved to surf was going to take a full force hit. The outcome had already been determined, and only I knew with one hundred percent certainty what that outcome was going to be. Although the tropical depression was still days away from becoming a full fledge hurricane, and although it was at least a week away in distance, I could already feel it in the water, and I could feel it coursing through my body. Strength was building – both the storm’s intensity and my own. Last night’s invigorating midnight swim and dreams that followed as well as the more than usual abundance of the flesh in my morning hard-on were proof enough to me. Fuck! It felt good,… and it was big… bigger than before. The flesh was hard as any steel, and now it more than filled my hand. To boot, to the rhythm of my pleasure, my nutsack slapped against my thighs with more force than I recalled. My balls were fuller, bigger. I raised my fist and flexed my biceps as I continued jacking with my other hand. The muscle mounded up round and large and full. It wasn’t huge yet, but it was bigger than before, and large enough to make me gasp in self-appreciation. Fuuuck! I felt a tingling in my cock and in my balls. Power. I felt the power, and suddenly the strength was more than I could stand. I thrust my left hand to the base of my erection and stroked the nob and remaining seven inches with my right, abandoning my flex to coax the storm within me. My hard-on surged within my hand, and I could feel the tension building. Waves of pleasure caressed my ass and balls and perineum. It became too much, and I arched my back and felt my glutes and hamstrings cramp with pleasure. In anticipation, my entire body flexed, and I felt my muscles growing. The wave of tension built within me, and I inhaled and held a breath so large that I thought it might explode my chest, but my ribcage held together. Then I felt the second phase. The wave was cresting, and I knew the thrill was coming. I felt my sphincter spasm and my balls draw up as semen filled the reservoirs within my prostate. I shut my eyes shut so tight that I couldn’t pry them open, but I didn’t need to see in order to experience the vision in my mind. My body was expanding, just a bit for now, but more was coming. This moment before I came was all potential, and despite how much I loved the anticipation thrill, I knew the best was yet to come, and then it happened. My cock expanded in my hands as the wave of pleasure crashed upon me. My body shook, and I roared with pleasure as the motherload of all ejaculations vaulted ropes of white, hot cum from deep within my pelvis up my shaft and through the air in all directions. I lost my sense of being as I tumbled through the abyss of bliss. I smelled the ocean in the air and tasted its salty essence on my lips. It splashed across my face and chest and pooled between the ridges of my belly. The intensity was mind-blowing, and my orgasm lasted longer than expected, but in the end, the power of the wave dispersed and was replaced by a tranquil relaxation that deposited me breathless and tangled in my sheets. Exhausted, I relaxed completely on my bed and felt the force of gravity against my increased mass, the mattress pushing harder against my back and glutes and limbs, the heft of my cock and balls weighing more substantially upon my thighs. I could feel the force and power. I was bigger,… and I was stronger,… and I was going to grow again. The coming storm was my assurance, and it was going to be more powerful and destructive than anyone yet knew. Chapter 2 The vibration of my phone against the nightstand was enough to rouse me from my slumber. It was a text from Billy: Dawn Patrol That was it. Nothing else -- but nothing else was needed. The surf was rising, and “dawn patrol” meant that although the sun had not yet crested the horizon, Billy was headed for the water. Sand was probably already pushing up between his toes, board leashed to his left ankle, eyes fixed on the horizon, sensing, anticipating. I rolled on my side and looked out the window of my beachfront shack which was perched on stilts, just high enough to see the sandy beach beyond the dunes. A lone surfer’s silhouette against the sherbet dawn jogged across the sand, board held high. It was Billy. He wanted to catch a few good rides before the break filled with every Benny, Barney and Kook who would never be good enough to deserve the kind of break that was right out my window. Billy was a disciple of the sea. He lived for the ocean and the waves, and both of them were calling. I looked to the water beyond his silhouette, and my heart pumped. With the coming storm, the swell was gaining size and strength, and the curls were peeling in perfect, long, slow barrels with nothing but glassy water in-between. It was a surfer’s wet dream, and at least for now it was mine and Billy’s, ours alone. The ocean beckoned, and we were obligated to respond. I rolled out of bed and stepped into my favorite board shorts. As I pulled them up my muscled thighs, I couldn’t help but notice that they were tighter. My quads and hamstrings now strained against the cloth, making it hard to hoist them into place. I worked the fabric up and over the thickness of my glutes and had to strain to pull the waist up high enough to settle into place along the narrow of my lower back. I relaxed and exhaled loudly thinking that I had achieved my goal. But then I realized that when it came time to seal the deal, there was just no room left for my amped up bait and tackle. While the storm was gaining size and strength, so too was I. I could feel the power building, manifesting itself in me as strength and size. I felt the need to exert myself, to dominate - to lift something or crush something or fuck something, but there was nothing in my shack to foot the bill. I picked up the dumbbells by my bed, but they were only 35 pounders - inadequately light; so I did next what came most naturally to me. I flexed. I raised my arms into a double biceps pose, and I flexed hard, squeezing every muscle in my body with all my might, concentrating all my energy into the flex and luxuriating in the erotic pain and pleasure of my muscles cramping as they struggled one against the other. Feeling the tightness of the boardshorts against my by glutes and thighs, I sent more effort below my waist, flexing even harder, willing my legs and ass to grow. The fabric tightened, at first snuggly caressing every curve and hollow and then constricting with discomfort. I took a breath and changed my pose to a crushing most muscular pose, and I flexed harder than I had flexed in my entire life. My body shook with effort, and the glow of perspiration turned into beads of sweat that converged into rivulets of moisture that began to flow into the valleys between my bulging muscles. I crunched down even harder, stomping my foot against the floor, concentrating my efforts in my lower body and waiting for the moment when my trunks would split. But no matter how hard I flexed and twisted, I couldn’t cause the cloth to rip. It enraged me, and in one final blinding effort, I flexed with all my might, and I felt the fabric give. I had destroyed my boardshorts, and, I felt like I had won. I knew right then that from now on I would always win. I was Samson, Hercules and Poseidon all rolled up into one, and I would never be defeated. I relaxed my flex and surveyed the situation. The board shorts were ripped in no less than seven places. To say that they had merely ripped was to understate the situation. They had exploded! To cause such damage, I must have had a substantial growth spurt all at once. I caught my breath and admired the increased mass of muscle in my thighs, and then I noticed that my hands were also larger and that my forearms were twitching, muscular and swollen. I clenched my fists and rolled my wrists, marveling as the muscle bellies bulged. I then relaxed and I rolled my fingers, delighting as the individual muscles danced and flexed in a ballet upon my forearm. My vision traveled north, and when it reached my upper arms, I was unprepared for the effect the bulging muscle would have upon my loins. I bent my elbow slowly, and the unflexed biceps bunched and rounded as the triceps lengthened fully. My dick responded harder than it had ever been. It throbbed as I cast my eyes upon the mirror. In my ripped board shorts, my newly enlarged, pumped body bulging with strength and power and glistening with sweat, I looked like some amped up comic book hero – lean, heavily muscled and strong. I crossed my wrists at the level of my waist, and my thickened pecs flexed and thickened in striated glory. Then my arms began the slow, erotic, upward arc that I knew would end in a stunning double biceps pose, the likes of which I’d never seen. Something flipped a switch in me. My mind was focused, and a flurry of image fantasies flashed before my mind’s eye. Samson, Heracles, Poseidon. Muscle, Size, Power. That was all I wanted, and I could feel it all amassing in my body as I flexed. My vision cleared, and a gazed upon my reflection in the mirror. No longer a Marvel hero. I was a god! Big and strong and proud and proud. My hard-on looked enormous, and my ball sack bulged with its twin egg-sized cargo. The seed of deities flowed withing me, and finally it was more than I could handle. I stared at my reflection, the embodiment of maleness, strength and power, and I increased the effort of my flex and thrusted my pelvis forward. The dam was breaking. I could feel the anticipatory tingle around my ass and perineum and then the near panic as my ejaculatory reservoirs filled with semen. Finally, I was overcome with the erotic hammer of ejaculation and white, hot ropes for cum arced across the room, painting the mirror and my reflection with liquid adulation. Fuck! It had never felt so good, and with the pleasure came a cramping in my muscles that I knew would make me grow again. Intoxication of the pleasure overwhelmed me, crippling my mind and body. My flex began to fail, and I dropped one arm and wrapped my hand around my hardon and felt another bolt of pleasure. Before the first orgasm had fully ended, I stroked twice, and came again in spasms, more violent than before. When it ended, I was spent, and the drive to flex and fuck and cum subsided, if only for a while. For a moment, I was satiated, weak and breathless. I crumpled to the bed beside me and milked a few last few drops of glistening cum from my softening erection. I tasted the elixir, and its salty essence reminded of the ocean and how it called me. I was exhausted, but I knew the water would revive me. I needed the ocean, waves and water. I craved the power of the storm.

I woke up feeling my grandfather's huge chest and his hair on my chest, I didn't even feel that I was touching the bed, I started to feel and everything felt like steel, it was my grandfather's hard body, I felt his huge legs on top of me hugging me. - "good morning sun, after that fuck you fell fast asleep, I couldn't resist and I sucked you while you were asleep, I'm sorry son.... I was just hungry for you and you look so damn cute, in fact I feel bigger *grunts* it's like your pretty boy juices make me more powerful. It was true... I felt grandpa was bigger, I lifted my head and saw his arm, it looked thicker oh my god, the vein in his arm was thicker than my wrist or even thicker than my own arm. I touched his arm, to say my hand looked small was an understatement how can there be so much flesh on an arm, it looked bigger than the trunk of any tree literally. - "yeah honey my body is huge, I feel like I could crush this bed if I flexed a little *the bed creaks terrifyingly at the tremendous weight* fuck... I think I passed the 600 pound mark kid." - "hmmm yeah... look at your little hand on my gorilla arm it looks so small and fragile, it looks like it could break in the wind.... *places a monstrous paw on top of my smaller one* god... my grandpa paw completely engulfs yours, in fact I could cover your whole beautiful little head with my giant hand." - "it's barely morning and you're already making this geezer horny honey.... *kisses the top of my head lovingly* hmm your hair smells good son, maybe even better than my monster musk.... Maybe, it looks like this huge arm has you mesmerized, I don't blame you seeing something so fucking huge must be appealing by nature, that's how I feel when I see your skinny little body son, your smallness makes you so cute, my protective instincts kick in when you're near me, I want to protect you from everything and everyone my child, I want to be your blanket in the cold, the mountain that gives you shade in the sun, every lift I do with those ridiculous weights is for you, every breath my colossal chest takes is for you, nothing makes me happier than having you like this in my arms." Grandpa's words sent me to muscle daddy heaven, the most massive monster loved me unconditionally, stroking his arm I still came closer feeling his strong pectoral and hard nipple that tickled me as I moved, I started to lick his bicep, grandpa reacted and tensed his arm a little and got bigger and thicker for me, I couldn't stop drooling on his arm, I stuck my nose in his armpit and started to smell and his man musk, his smell was so strong and overpowering.. "Yeah son you like the smell of the old man in the mornings don't you? *deep growl* damn you're already licking my armpit, that gets me going boy *he puts his giant paw on my head and presses harder* that's what grandpa likes so much yeah... me smelling your precious hair and you smelling my giant armpit all for you... *, I start to press hard on grandpa's huge nipple, while I moan inside his armpit, grandpa's cock gets semi-hard and lifts my body* son stop... you don't want me to destroy the bed, if you go on like this I'll do serious damage to our surroundings *the bed creaks some boards cracking, grandpa's body tenses up*. "I'm serious son if you keep this up soon we won't even have a room to sleep in *grunts* if you don't stop I'll have to take you out. Grandpa grabbed me and pulled me out of his armpit, I breathed I stopped pressing his nipple but my mouth went to his huge nipple and I couldn't take it anymore and I bit it with all my strength, grandpa let out a quick scream everything got harder, it almost seemed like it was growing under me, the bed rattled in a frightful scream, he couldn't take it anymore, the bed was destroyed by the huge weight, my grandpa's body cushioned the fall and I felt no pain or anything, grandpa hugged me tightly as a consequence of the abuse to his giant nipple. "Look what you've done son, fuck I think I wrecked the floor too". Grandpa's body was rock hard, his chest hair prickled me a little, his embrace on me was tight, I began to worry that his state of arousal could not be controlled and he might break me "I'm growing boy... I feel so fucking hard and heavy, I definitely broke the 600 pound mark already, in this you turn me boy into a monster that keeps getting bigger and stronger, at this rate I'm going to get over the fucking house.... I feel huge. Between hugging his pecs I said to Grandpa "Grandpa you're crushing me". "Oh my god son...I'm so sorry I hurt you?..... *I shake my head* you see what I'm telling, you makes me stronger, having me so excited makes me lose control". He loosens his embrace on me but I am still in his arms, grandpa was panting deeply as if he had done intense exercise for a long time. Finally he lifts me up and I look at the damage caused by his body, the bed was in pieces, grandpa's underpants were torn by the pressure of his huge python, the floor was cracked by the blow, the old man gently laid me on the floor and I was speechless when I saw it. He was huge, no.. colossal, massive, I had definitely believed me and a lot his arms if they were twice my size before were now 4 times me, he could no longer see me through his pecs "damn boy now I can't see down my pecs" they were literally bigger than the front of our van and not to mention his nipples.. they were bigger than my erect cock each and as thick as a beer can, his abs or by god.... Each of her 10 pack was bigger than my head and they were so fucking defined I could clearly see the stretch marks, her legs once as thick as tree trunks now so massive I could most certainly crush a small car under them, I put my cold hand on top.. the little thing of nothing seemed to get lost in so much flesh, the aged beast growled animalistically The monster grandfather took a deep breath when he felt my soft touch... his mammoth cock moved, if before I didn't know how he put that thing in my ass now it was definitely impossible, he had a thick vein snaking his cock, it was throbbing like it wanted to get bigger it was so wild and animalistic... I trembled with excitement but at the same time with fear... seeing this abosolute monster made me almost pee there, even though I knew he would never hurt me and he was the most caring and loving being I was scared Grandpa saw my fear and growled "Son don't be afraid, I know I must look fucking intimidating now, fuck I'm so big.... So monstrous... but it's for you, I love you my precious boy *places a giant paw on my chin and gently strokes* holy god my fingers are so thick and big, just one of my fingers dwarfs your beautiful little face" *animal growl* his cock twitches again sending another shudder through me. "Damn it son you better get the fuck away from me, now I don't know how much fucking strength I have and you make me feel so horny my little.. *grunts* I don't want to hurt you by accident, please leave before I lose control again." "No, grandpa I don't want to leave you...I'm a little scared but I know you would never hurt me" I hugged as best I could the monster in front of me. Grandpa was holding back, growling loudly, with deep breaths, he stood still trying to calm the beast, whispering "he's so beautiful, Jesus my little James I love him so much, damn it...old man control him control the power, I will never forgive you if you hurt him...". Grandpa hugged me but gently trying not to hurt me, even so I felt him squeeze me tightly. He lifted me up and kissed me, a kiss like never before... aggressive, animalistic was his way of showing his primitive love for me, I melted into his colossal body letting him take control, he wrapped his arms around me, his cock lifted me up just with his strength, after the intense kiss the beast calmed down. "I need to weigh myself son, I need to see how you have made me bigger, more beastly" he gasped. He carried me in his arms to his personal gym, put me on the floor and stepped on the scale, he stepped on and the contraption made a scary noise and destroyed "fuck son, I'm too big and heavy for this shit... that contraption had a maximum capacity of 700 pounds, my handsome son made me grow way more than 100 pounds and I want to keep growing for you.." "But first Grandpa, can we have breakfast? All that growing up and watching you transform into a beast has given me an appetite." "Of course my boy, I'm hungry too I feel like I could eat a damn elephant...rest up, I'll fix breakfast today." I get up and we head to the kitchen grandpa made me breakfast an omelet with spices and he made himself a buffet to feed 20 men, he ate like a beast partly because he was still so excited. When he finished he looked at me with a face of complicity "I want to try something son" we went to the garage we had the van, a Smart he used and a car we wanted to sell in the scrapyard. "I need to crush something son", he lifted the car with his hands as if nothing, the car groaned noisily as it was lifted, he held it with a huge paw while with the other he sunk his monstrous fingers into one of the ends, grandpa started to crush the car from end to end as if wanting to smash it... the car windows exploded, the metal and steel bent, grandpa grunted but not for the effort if not for the thrill of crushing I was behind watching his gigantic back it was so wide it could completely cover the car behind me, I started to touch myself watching this old beast smash the thing like nothing.... "Fuck my fucking arm is thicker than this garbage.. it feels so fucking light and it must weigh like a ton" *he laughs deeply* "there is nothing stopping me anymore, and I will keep getting bigger... bigger... stronger...." as he grunted these words he was crushing the car until he could embrace it "so much power... so much massiveness" *grunts* "this is all so fucking weak, you little shit" he shoved his monster cock in and started pounding it hard, his cock destroying the metal. The old man was in a trance of musculature and self worship, he felt exaggeratedly powerful, some pre was coming out of his cock as well as mine. "Look at me son, I'm so big and strong, how I wish I had your beautiful soft ass on my cock instead of this wrecked car shit, the steel of this junk is so weak.. just breathing my monstrous chest crushes this.. but I can't, I would hurt you, I would hurt you, I would never in this life or the next want to see you sad or hurt.. that would break the heart of this beast that grows for you, but with time I will learn to control all this strength, just seeing you standing there touching your beautiful little cock thing makes me want to destroy this damn house *sigh* nothing and no one can stop me... only your beauty is able to make me feel weak, if someone would touch you, if someone would hurt you.... God only knows what I would do with that shit" grandpa's body tensed his protective instincts towards me made him alert, his muscles thickened and filled with power. Grandpa's feet were crunching the floor with his strength. I was trembling but not out of fear this time it was out of total excitement to see this massive Elder destroy that car like it was nothing, because of his words towards me.... "I don't know what to say grandpa, you love me so much..." - I started to cry as he touched me - "I just want you to be the happiest man in the world grandpa, sometimes I think you don't need me, you are so strong, big, confident, handsome, I'm so lucky to have you....". Grandpa looked at me very serious "Don't talk nonsense honey, I need you like the air I breathe, everything I do is for your happiness without you.... I wouldn't be so damn gigantic." He hugged the junk tighter, I could see his thick nipples piercing the metal, the old car had no shape anymore, he squeezed so hard that he broke it in two, if you can call a pile of junk two pieces, and moved closer to me.... he was a mountain, a fucking intimidating and imposing monster, he was tall, he must have been 7 inches now, maybe a little more, he lifted me up and hugged me "give this old son a kiss" he kissed me lovingly, his paw touched and caressed my penis, it felt good, I felt loved by my old monster..... End

“I don’t know what this is,” Jorge quietly said – as he stared down into the other man’s eyes, mere inches away. “Does it matter?” asked Alejandro, pressing his bulging pec into Jorge’s equally nice chest. “Maybe to our wives,” Jorge answered, suddenly breathing heavier. “Since I met you, I satisfy Gwen more than I ever did before. I love my wife, Jorge, but it’s thoughts of you that make me satsify her in ways I never knew I could. It might be messed up as hell, but I’m telling you, I think of you and give her the best sex she’s ever had. She says I’m a new man. I even think she suspects you’re the cause of it . . . but she could care less. I’ve given her more orgasms in the last two months than I have over the twenty years we’ve been married.” “Anita feels the same,” Jorge said, aware of the sudden redness rushing to his face. “I think she knows the cause of our stellar lovemaking, too. I fantasize about your goatee when we have sex and it’s enough for me to make her scream. We have to wait until the children aren’t at home.” “I grew my goatee because of yours, Jorge,” Alejandro said, pressing his pec forward even harder. “Gwen says we look alike . . . and she thinks that’s hot.” “Your goatee is hot as hell,” Jorge whispered and they stared at each other in silence for a few seconds. “Anita says I should hang out with you a lot more.” “Gwen says the same,” Alejandro responded and they stopped talking to just stare into each other’s eyes for a while. “I’ve never been with another man.” “Neither have I. It’s never even crossed my mind. However, I got hard the moment you shook my hand.” Jorge replied. “I beat off to thoughts of you daily . . . and still have enough cum to satisfy Gwen. I never stop thinking about you. Never. I’ve never wanted someone like I want you, Jorge. Never,” Alejandro said – his gaze never waivering. “I feel the same way. This is so fucking intense. I’m scared,” Jorge confessed – the most honest words he’d ever spoken. The need to kiss had never been so desperate to both men, but neither of them moved. They simply continued to stare at each other and let their pecs press against the chest of the other. Suddenly, there was no rush. None at all. Something was being born in both of them and each man received the birth with open arms, open minds, and complete and utter acceptance. “I’ve made fun of gay people in the past. I just need to confess that. I think I’m asking for forgiveness. I suddenly realize I didn’t understand and I was scared. Give me absolution, please, Alejandro.” “This is so fucking natural, Jorge. I never thought I’d feel this way. No person has ever made me go weak in the knees until you. I would literally fight any man that tried to separate us . . . to the death. I mean it. I love my wife. I love my kids. But this . . . this thing I feel for you . . . it’s almost too much. I would do anything for you. Anything. It’s such a new feeling for me,” Alejandro responded. “I dream about you. I find myself thinking about you at work. I’m pretty sure I call your name out in my sleep. I write poems about you . . . and I’ve never written poems,” Jorge confessed. “I don’t even know how this works . . . two men, but I know how I feel. My morning wood is caused by your face. I think about your body and have to beat off in the shower. I need to kiss you . . . right now . . . in your kitchen . . . to hell with what the world thinks. I want you more than I want to breathe,” Alejandro said, his chest heaving with excitement and nervousness. There are kisses that shape the world . . . create destiny. This was one of them. The feeling of two bristling goatees coming together and four lips meeting for the first time was only part of it. Alejandro and Jorge were recognizing a huge part of themselves for the first time, so the kiss was epic . . . the kind of kiss that changed lives. It didn’t last terribly long, Jorge pulled his lips from those of his friend. “I . . . um . . . I . . . am going . . . to . . . um, you now . . . if we keep doing that.” “Without even touching yourself?” “Yes.” “Shit, that makes me want to keep kissing you, Jorge.” “I wish you wouldn’t. I kind of like prolonging the . . . inevitable,” Jorge said softly. “Alejandro . . . I’ve never felt anything like this before . . . about anyone.” “It’s the same for me, Jorge. The day I came to that barbeque and met you for the first time I felt a rush that I’d never known before. I had to jerk-off in your bathroom just get my body under control. You were the hottest thing I’d ever seen. I’d always thought a guy in a speedo was trying too hard . . . as if he had something to prove, but you . . . you were so fucking hot.” “I’d never worn them before. Something made me put them on that day . . . I’m thinking it was my subconscious wanting to please you. Who knows. I think about you every time I put them on. I wish I was wearing them right now . . .under my jeans.” “Shit . . . that is so fucking hot,” Alejandro replied. “I seriously don’t know what to do from here . . . how to proceed.” “The girls are gone for a week, we can take our time.” Alejando said, reaching around to grab Jorge’s ass. “Is this where we decide who’s the top and who’s the bottom?” Jorge asked, loving the way Alejandro’s hand felt squeezing his cheeks. “I think nowadays it’s kind of hip to be both. And I’m feeling strong urges to both fuck you and be fucked by you . . . even though it’s all so new. I just want to experience everything with you. Right now, though, I needed to feel your ass. It’s not like any need I’d ever had before . . . until I met you.” “Turnabout is fair play,” Jorge said, grabbing Alejandro’s ass, as well. “Hard and muscular . . . just like I knew it would be. What the fuck are we doing?” “I don’t know man, but I can tell you it feels fucking good,” Alejandro answered. The two men stood there in the middle of the kitchen, rubbing their erect nipples through their shirts against each other, grinding their erect cocks into each other, and kneading the shit out of each other’s ass cheeks. They were both breathing so heavily they sounded like two bulls preparing to charge full steam ahead. Jorge moved his hands from the other man’s ass up to his chiseled, bulging biceps. He groped the hard arms with all his might, causing Alejandro to tense them even more. “The other day . . . when we were working out together . . . I busted out a big wad just from watching you curl dumbbells. There was nothing I could do to prevent it. I was resting on a bench nearby and looked up to see your big arm swell even larger as you raised the weight. You let out a sound that sort of sounded like ‘oh yeah’ and that’s all it took. Thank god I was wearing black heavy cotton shorts . . . it prevented the stain from showing. I’ve kept the cum-stained jock from that day in the glove compartment of my truck, just to pull it out and jerk myself off thinking about your arms. I fucking can’t believe I’m telling you this, man. You probably think I’m pretty messed up.” “I think you’re fucking unbelievably hot, Jorge. That’s what I think. And the thought of one of your old jocks covered in your juice is even hotter. I came in the shower this morning without even touching myself and all I was thinking about was how it would feel to have your goatee scraping against the inside of my thighs as you sucked on my balls. So, that makes us even, man. Now I’m telling you one of my secrets.” “I’m going to blow another wad if we don’t separate soon, dude. Feeling your arms and hearing you talk about me sucking on your balls is nearly enough to make me pass out. How about a beer and a little time out. I just need to cool my jets for a second.” “A beer sounds nice. I could use a breather, too, man.” Neither man moved. The heat radiating from their bodies was too intoxicating. Slowly, Jorge removed his hands from Alejandro’s biceps and peeled his big body away from the other man, who just continued to stand there staring – his body gistening with a light sheen of perspiration in the dark grey tan-top. Jorge went to the fridge and pulled two bottles of Heineken out. He grabbed an opener and popped off the tops, then he handed one to Alejandro – moving back against the opposite kitchen counter and his friend backed up, as well. The two men sipped their beers and stared at each other. “What are we going to do?” Alejandro asked, quietly, between sips. “You mean long term or in the next few minutes . . . cause I’m pretty sure we’re going to fuck at some point before the day is done. You can’t make my balls ache this much and expect me to not get some satisfaction . . . that would be the cruelest thing in the world. And I seriously doubt a wedding cake with two grooms on it is in our future, but I’m not really worrying about that right now. I’m just thinking about how fucking hot you’d be without a shirt on. Those perfectly sculpted pecs and those chiseled abs are meant to be viewed, Alejandro. Your body makes my mouth go dry. Take it off, man . . . please.” Jorge was a few inches taller than Alejandro, but the shorter guy had a few more pounds and was biggger. Jorge’s body was jacked . . . he had nothing to be ashamed about in that area, but Alejandro’s body bulged in ways that made it clear he had been lifting longer and harder. The shorter man put his beer down on the counter behind him and then pulled the bottom of his tank-top from his jeans. He then pulled it up over his head. After he smoothed his hair down with his right hand, he tucked the shirt into his back pocket so it dangled there. He grabbed his beer and then leaned back against the counter. Jorge stared at the other man’s torso for a long time, as if he were memorizing every bulge, vein, and striation. “I can think of nothing hotter than your body, dude.” “I can . . . your body, Jorge. I’m thinking you should be shirtless, too.” “I’m proud of my body, Alejandro, but I don’t hold a candle to yours. Naw, I’m not looking for compliments,’ Jorge said lifting up his hand before the other man could speak, “Like I said, I have a fine body and it’s okay for me to like yours more. I’m thinking its even more than okay. But you’re right. Two guys built like us should have our shirts off. Anita hates it when I walk aroud the house shirtless.” “Gwen is exactly the same. She always asks why she has to be forced to look at my old man body all the time.” “That’s not an old man body, Alejandro. That’s a fucking stud’s jacked body,” Jorge said as he brought his beer bottle up to his lips and drained the entire thing as he stared at the other man. “I’d love to wake up tomorrow wrapped up in those big arms and my face plastered to that chest.” “Fuck man, are we going to have to go into separate rooms to actually calm down. You can’t say things like that and expect me to not stay rock hard. Jorge went to the fridge and got two more beers, this time popping the tops with his thumbnail – a trick he knew impressed Alejandro, and then handed one to the smiling muscled man. Jorge retreated back to his own side of the kitchen, but the electricity between the two men was now filling the entire space. Neither man expected to ‘calm down’ any time soon. Again, they stared at each other in silence – smiling and stealing glances at everything below chin level. “I’m still waiting for the shirt to come off, Jorge.” “Oh man, I forgot. Sorry. I was too busy thinking about sleeping with you,” Jorge said, quickly removing his tank top and tossing it on the counter.” “You’re a jacked stud, too, Jorge,” Alejandro said, drinking in the uncovered torso of his friend. “And I never knew you were so huge . . . you know, down there.” “Anita sometimes complains. She wishes I could get only half-hard sometimes.” “Seeing it all engorged like that, even covered up by your jeans . . . one does have to pause and wonder how it could possibly fit . . . well, in certain places.” Jorge’s bottle was halfway up to his lips as Alejandro said this and his arm froze. The taller man looked at his friend with a face of disbelief . . . and an overwhelming hopefulness. He took a sip and swallowed hard. He had to reach down with his other hand and readjust his still growing bulge. “I think fucking your muscled ass would probably be the most exciting thing to ever happen in my life, Alejandro. It’s a thought that never truly leaves my mind. I can force it into some dark corner when I’m at work or I’m in bed with Anita . . . but it’s always there. It’s funny, I don’t ever think about fucking any other guy . . . just you.” “I think about you fucking me all the time, too, Jorge,” Alejandro said, almost in a whisper. “How do you think it works? I mean I know you stick it in . . . but I’m just not sure that will give me pleasure . . . but then it’s all I think about, so I must want it. I just don’t know how we do it.” “I guess with a lot of lube and a lot of patience,” Jorge responded, before taking a sip and grinning as he swallowed. “I’ve learned to be gentle, man.” “Yeah, but I’m not thinking I want you to be gentle . . . there lies the big problem. Well, there, and what’s in your pants,” Alejandro said, tipping his the top of his bottle toward the log outlined in Jorge’s jeans and chuckling appreciatively. “Is it getting hot in here or is it just me?” “It’s you that’s causing it, if that’s what you mean.” “It takes two to raise the temperature this much,” Jorge quickly responded. “I’m thinking it might be smart if we were just in our underwear.” “Yeah, I think it would be fun to just be in boxers.” “Briefs for me, man,” Jorge said, smiling. “Well that’s going to cause that big thing to be highlighted even more. On three we drop our drawers, dude. One. Two. Three.” Jorge was proud of his cock. He’d made plenty of women gasp as he peeled his pants and underwear from his body. This was a totally new ballgame, however. The taller man had never been so worried about someone appreicating his meat more than he did right now. He was seriously scared he wouldn’t be big enough for Alejandro . . . or worse, he’d be too big. His nervousness, however, did not make him hesitate to undo his belt, pop the button of his jeans, and then push his pants down and kick them off. Before standing back up, he glanced at Alejandro and saw that the guy was wearing boxers with smiley faces plastered all over them. “No comment, big man . . . Gwen bought them for me. And to be honest, they were definitely clean, since I’ve never worn them before, so I chose them because I figured we’d be undressing . . . no, correction, I hoped to god we’d be undressing.” “Those are the legs of a god,” Jorge said, “who cares about the boxers.” “I could say the same about you, Mr. Longlegs,” Alejandro said as he watched his tall friend standing tall. “Did you ever compete . . . you know in bodybuilding contests?” Jorge asked, moving his gaze up and down his friend’s body. “A few local amateur things down at the Y, but that was many years ago. I actually got second place when I was twenty-one. Still have the trophy in the basement.” “You should still compete. You look amazing.” “Thank you. I’m afraid I like desserts too much to compete again. And beer,” Alejandro said, raising his bottle in a toast. “I’ll drink to that,” Jorge said, holding his own bottle up and then taking a sip. “I find my ass tightening uncontrollably . . . like a house being secured before a hurricane . . . when I look at that thing in your briefs. The nickname Mr. Longlegs fits, but I didn’t realize it fit for all three.” “Um . . . I know it’s big . . . so if you’re having doubts…” “Fuck man, I’m not having doubts. I was just complimenting you . . . albeit, in a roundabout way. Look at me. I am not a man afraid of a little pain. How do you think I built this body up like this . . . there was a lot of pain, trust me. I’m definitely looking forward to the challenge of accepting that . . . well, all of that . . . so don’t think I’m having doubts at all. I was just trying to say you’ve got a fucking huge cock, man. And I’m kind of excited by the fact that it’s not even fully hard, yet.” “Not yet, but the way you’re talking is going to make it get there quickly, Alejandro.” A moment of silence was needed again. Both men sensed it. Both men tooks sips of beer as they stared into each other’s eyes from across the kitchen. The sexual energy between them was so intense you could have cut it with a knife. Neither man really knew how to move forward. This was all such new territory for them. So, they instinctively knew they should just take their time. “What’s one thing Anita won’t do to please you sexually you wish she would?” Alejandro asked. “She won’t suck my cock.” “Whoa, I did not expect such a quick answer. Wow. Okay then. I mean it’s kind of understandable, right? I mean . . . it’s a mouthful. You have to admit that. Just for the record . . . I look forward to doing my best to suck that huge thing.” “I’ll probably squirt instantly.” “Show off.” “And you . . . what is something Gwen won’t do, Alejandro?” “Well that’s pretty obvious . . . but it’s not her fault. She can’t fuck me. Hard. Like a big man can. A big man with a big cock.” “Shit!” There was a sudden twitch at Jorge’s crotch – the big log jerked a little. A small wet stain quickly appeared in the material of his briefs up at the tip of his outlined bulge. The tall man ran his hand thorugh his hair and took a few breaths. It was clear he was preventing something from happening. He closed his eyes, too. “I’m like a big stick of dynamite with a short fuse,” Jorge softly said – keeping his eyes closed. “Well big stick is an accurate description,” Alejandro shot back and moved to the fridge to grab two more beers, grabbing the opener to pop the caps. When he handed one of the beers to Jorge, who had opened his eyes and downed the last of his bottle, he did not move back to the other side of the kitchen. He stayed in front of the other man – close enough that they could easily touch. He stood there staring into the eyes of Alejandro. The two men knew it was time to take this party to a new level. Here were two muscled, very horny men standing in only their underwear and, since it was the weekend, they had two full days of nothing specific to do and nowhere to go. And yet, both men knew how they’d fill the time. Alejandro put his beer on the counter, making sure his bulging arm brushed up against the big arm of his friend. He then took Jorge’s beer and placed it on the counter, too. The shorter, muscled man then gently took Alejandro’s hands and placed the big palms on his own protruding, massive chest. He then tilted his head upward and grinned in a way that said ‘have at it, big guy.’ Jorge didn’t move, at first. He simply looked down at his hands pressed against the two big mounds of muscle he’d been lusting over for a while, now. He spread his big hands out, loving how they couldn’t completely cover the enormity of Alejandro’s pecs. He moved his fingers a little, specifically to feel how his friend’s skin felt stretched tight and extremely hard. Jorge had spotted Alejandro many times as the muscled guy worked his chest. He’d stared down at t-shits, gloriously wet-stained from sweat, as the two big plates of muscle, now against his hands, swelled to the point where all Jorge wanted to do was bury his face between them. “My nips like it rough,” Alejandro said – causing Jorge to look down at the dark nubs poking out. “I can be rough,” Jorge replied, coming out of his trance caused by being able to finally feel Alejandro’s chest. “I’m counting on it,” Alejandro responded, but then went up on his toes and let out a loud hissing sound as Jorge squeezed his pecs hard. “I’m a tits and ass man, if you hadn’t already figured that out,” Jorge said, still squeezing the shit out of Alejandro’s chest. “I guess I should start saying pecs, though . . . because that’s what I really mean. Specifically, your pecs.” “You spotting me while I bench pressed was the first time I really noticed how colossal your endowment could get.” “No matter how hard I tried – thinking of dead bunnies or my grandmother naked – you working your huge pecs always gave me a raging boner. When you tense them in my grasp, I get light-headed. And don’t even get me started about when you wear your shirts unbuttoned.” Jorge brought his hands to Alejandro’s protruding nipples, gripped them both between the sides of his forefingers and thumbs, and then twisted and pulled at the same time. Alejandro let out a loud moan-scream, while every muscle in his body turned hard and his hands balled into fists. Jorge squeezed and tugged with most of his strength . . . he instinctively knew he could. Alejandro reached up and grabbed his friend’s biceps as he continued to moan from the pleasure his nips were feeling. He had dropped his head back and his eyes were closed as his nubs felt the kind of abuse he had always dreamed of. Jorge yanked down on the nips hard and then let them go, moving his big hands to Alejandro’s huge, tensed traps. He squeezed with a lot of power there, too . . . but Alejandro’s body was like rock, forcing Jorge to squeeze harder. The shorter man’s nipples were red and he knew there’d probably be some bruising, but he didn’t care. It had felt amazing. He had moved his hands down to Jorge’s waist, grabbing his sides as the taller man kneaded his traps. “Your muscles turn me on . . . more than I can explain. I’m not that guy stealing glances at the muscle magazines at the bookstore, dude. It’s only your body . . . for some reason I just can’t get enough of it. Your traps are so hard! And your fucking shoulders are so thick.” “What about these, big guy?” Alejandro said, raising his arms into the air, balling his hands into fists, and flexing his biceps. “Oh fuck yeah, the sight of your arms makes my balls tighten, Alejandro! They’re fucking gorgeous.” It seems that’s all that was needed for all hell to break loose. Alejandro flexed his huge arms as hard as he could, while Jorge cupped and groped the big peaks as best he could. This made Alejandro step forward and slam his hard cock into the bigger cock in front of him. The heavy grinding of crotches began instantly as two mouths, surrounded by heavy goatees, also slammed into each other and tongues immediately started exploring. And still, Alejandro flexed. And still, Jorge groped. Both men moaned as if they were in pain, but it was merely because they ached so much for the other. A tipping point had been reached. Suddenly, without removing his lips from the other man’s mouth, Jorge dropped his flexed arms and grabbed both of Jorge’s hands. He led them to his backside and slid the big man’s palms down inside his boxers so Jorge could latch on to his butt. And still . . . they kissed. After a minute or so, Jorge pulled his mouth back for just a second. “Oh fuck, your glorious ass is so fucking hard, too!” Lips banged back together. Big hands squeezed muscled ass cheeks like someone’s life depended on it. Alejandro moaned even louder as his butt was manhandled roughly by the other man. Not to be outdone, Alejandro went for what he wanted, as well. He slid his right hand between his rock-hard abs and those of Jorge and them moved his hand down the front of the tall man’s briefs. He leaked a big drop of pre-cum as soon as his hand found the massive engorged cock and he was instantly pleased that his hand could not reach around the thing completely. And then, Alejandro squeezed . . . which caused Jorge to moan louder as he squeezed the ass he groped even harder. Jorge’s thick piece of meat was nicely lubricated from pre-cum that had been oozing for a while, so Alejandro easily started jacking his hand up and down. Moaning stopped. Breathing stopped. Only a huge hand on a cock and two hands on an ass moved and squeezed. Both men suddenly lost all contact with reality. All that mattered was making the other man bust out a major load. Nothing could have prevented what was to come. No one could have stopped the impending double explosion even if someone had wanted to. It was just two muscled, horny-as-hell men dressed only in underwear kissing like wild men and taking the opportunity to grope, squeeze, and jack what they had been lusting after for so long. It was finally time for two huge, macho, never-before-having-homosexual-thoughts, muscled friends to make the other man cum hard. A big finger pierced into Alejandro’s clenched ass and the head of Jorge’s huge cock was squeezed even tighter in a strong grip. The two mouths separated – simply because both men needed to let out a euphoric, guttural, beast-like howl as their stomachs’ caved inward and their cocks erupted simultaneously. “Fuuuuckkkkkk!” Alejandro exclaimed, as Jorge simply let out a long loud animalistic grunt. There were just some men in the world that could spurt a shitload of cum . . . and one of them was Jorge. Even in the midst of his own orgasm and the pleasure of having a thick finger in his ass for the first time in his entire life, Alejandro noted the amount of jizz that was flooding into Jorge’s briefs. Alejandro kept expecting the cock to stop spewing, but it just kept jerking in his hand and thick, warm spunk covered everything. The knowledge that his friend’s orgasm produced so much man-seed made Alejandro’s own ejaculation pump harder and a lot longer than usual. It was like he was trying to keep up with Jorge, but he soon realized that was never going to happen. Meanwhile, Jorge only focused on how fucking fantastic his finger felt in Alejandro’s wet, warm, tight hole. Anita didn’t really like to be fingered that much – she was more of a tongue lady – but Alejandro’s sweet, puckering, chute was pulsating with much appreciation. The guy was even thrusting his crotch back and forth to make Jorge’s finger plunge in deeper. Fuck, it was so tight in this man’s ass. That thought made Jorge’s balls churn out a little more cum. Jorge let his mind wander a little to the thought of what it would be like to shove his cock in that hole and . . . well, that made him spew even more. The idea of fucking his muscled friend just sent him over the roof – thinking about sinking his big cock into Alejandro while he got to hold on to all of his sweaty bulges made Jorge become hornier than hell. He shoved his finger all the way into Alejandro’s ass and both men spurted another gob of cum. Aleandro rested his body against the taller man – who was leaning against the counter – and they stood there, finger in ass and cum-covered hand in briefs – while their hearts returned to a normal beat and their breath steadied. “That firehose of a cock of yours dumps a firehose amount of cum, big guy.” “Yeah, I tend to dumb quite the load . . . Anita says it makes her fat.” “I can’t wait for when I have some of you sloshing around inside of me.” “Well, you’re going to have to wait a while, dude,” said Jorge, “that ass of yours made me explode in a way I haven’t for a very long time . . . if ever.” “Don’t worry, I’m in the same shape as you,” Alejandro said, his head still against Jorge’s chest. “We are definitely not in the same shape, Alejandro. You’re body puts mine to shame,” Jorge said, making a joke – but also making a statement. “I think you’re hotter than hell . . . and not just because of this,” Alejandro replied, squeezing the big cock in his hand. “What are we going to do?” “About what?” “About this,” Jorge said. “What we’re feeling right now.” “Well, first of all, I’m going to suck on your nipple for a second,” Alejandro said, and slurped away briefly. “Secondly, I’m going to hand you your beer and take mine” Alejandro pulled his upper body back a little, but kept his hand wrapped around Jorge’s cock and stood so Jorge’s finger could stay in his ass. He then grabbed Jorge’s beer and handed it to him. After grabbing his own he brought his beer over and tapped it against Jorge’s bottle. He then looked into the other man’s eyes. “Thirdly, we’re not going to worry about it right now. Let’s just take each moment as it comes. We’ve got a few days alone to figure some things out . . . but let’s just enjoy the moment right now . . .” Suddenly the sound of the front door opening shot through the entire house. “Honey! The flight is delayed until tomorrow. Gwen’s waiting in the car. I’m not coming in. Let’s go get Alejandro and grab some lunch, okay! Jeez, what a day. We’ll be waiting for you outside.” The sound of the front door closing did nothing to make Jorge’s and Alejandro’s hearts stop beating a hundred miles a minute. In what seemed like forever, but in fact was about two minutes, the two men disentangled themselves from each other, grabbed their clothes, and while Alejandro washed his hands and dressed, Jorge ran to the bedroom to wash and put on new underwear. They were walking out the front door dripping with guilt written all over their faces in less than five minutes. Their wives waved with happy smiles from the car – both because they didn’t need to go get Alejandro and the fact that they were all going to lunch. But were they smiling for another reason, too? Both men suddenly wondered how they’d ever make it through the meal.

So as you can guess from the title, I was really hoping I could get this posted last week. But alas, life got in the way. Hopefully you're still up for a little romance story in the spirit of V-Day. ++++++++++++++++++++++++ There’s nothing worse than having to work late on a Friday. And I don’t care if it’s an hour or just ten minutes, once that clock strikes 5:00pm I need to be gone. Most of the time I am able to bug out 30-60 minutes early on Fridays, but alas, today I had a proposal that needed to be completed by 5:00pm. All of my office mates had already left, lucky bastards. Today was Valentine’s Day and flowers and candies littered the desktops and they had all left to prepare for their own evening dates. Finally at 4:33pm my last quotation arrived and I was able to finish my proposal and make sure it showed up in my outbox. With a huff I packed up my computer laptop and departed the office at 5:04pm. Still late. Ugh! On the drive home I couldn’t wait to get to the gym, my daily escape from office life. It’s what I jokingly call ‘Miller time’. Because my name is Miller and I love the gym. I love exercising my body, the rush of endorphins, how I’m able to release those stresses that build up over the day slogged in front of my computer screen. Not to mention, the added bonus of the potential to view some eye candy. The gym has been part of my near daily routine now for about 10 years. After college as I started to soften I made a commitment to keep myself in shape and I was proud to say that I had accomplished that goal. Now, you may be thinking that I’m some big sexy bulging bodybuilder stud with how dedicated I am to my gym. Well, I’d say I’m sexy at least. But the truth is that I was cursed, or blessed some would say, to be a true hardgainer with a jackrabbit metabolism. Now that’s not to say I’m a skinny either. With a decade of dedication I’ve built my 5’9 frame up to a solid 165 lbs. My wiry muscles are all evident when I take off my shirt, especially my abs. With my low bodyfat I have a pleasing vascularity and defined creases between the muscle groups. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve been called a stud before, and even a couple of young 120-lbs twinks had referred to me as a “muscle guy” in the past. My tight body combined with my good looks meant I’d never got any complaints. The only real thing I’ve had to learn to overcome was my shy and reserved personality. Thankfully as I’ve aged that has improved in tandem with the strides made in the gym. While I had a tight, ripped body, I’d accepted the fact that I’d never be a huge bodybuilder. And that was ok with me. Truth be told, in my fantasies I enjoy the idea of being a smaller guy to a big pumped stud. It’s a scenario that has played out in my mind countless times when I’m in the middle of my 45-minute cardio sessions. I do cardio five times a week. I do lift weights, mostly full body-type routines, another three times to ensure the muscle I do have stays prominent, but for the most part I could be classified as a cardio bunny. As I mentioned above, I’ve always been a bit of a dreamer and I’ve found those cardio sessions go by much quicker when I’m playing out a little fantasy in my mind. Sometimes I had even jotted them down on paper afterwards and submitted them to my favorite muscle fetish websites. Not gonna lie, I’ve received some excellent feedback on some of my tales. As soon as my legs start trudging along that belt my mind runs wild with sexy bodybuilder-centric fantasies. So there I was rushing to get home and get into the gym, get a good sweat on and relieve some stress before the weekend. Twenty-five minutes later I was in my gym and walking along on my regular treadmill, tucked away in a semi-private corner of the gym. From here I could see most of the gym while still remaining semi-concealed. Perfect for stud-gazing. I looked around and nobody else was there. Friday evenings were already notoriously dead. Most of the younger gym bros and babes were eager to get out and party, showing off their toned bods to attract similarly built mates. But even then, today was more dead than usual. Then I remembered again that it’s also Valentine’s Day. That would likely do it, I think. The remaining Friday stragglers are all probably are getting ready for a big Valentine’s day date, prepping and a primping for a night of romance. How cheesy. Ok, Ok. I’m not heartless. Truth be told that sounds amazing. In my 20’s I definitely thought the concept was pure cheese but now at 31 I could definitely see the appeal of a special night with a special someone. Especially if that someone had a square jaw and some huge biceps. After the five-minute warmup timer had ticked away its last few seconds I sped up the treadmill to my jogging speed. What should today’s scenario be?, I think to myself. Perhaps a reunion story. Something with two long separated friends and one is now Olympia-esque. Maybe a sexy librarian discovering secret muscle growth powder in a hidden closet? How about a macro-muscle story involving a giant jacked football coach? Maybe a humiliation story with one guy outgrowing and dominating his best friend. Naw, only weirdos are into that sort of thing. Plus, it’s Valentine’s day, so today’s scenario should lend itself to some romance. As I ran through the possibilities I, heard a soft clang of the gym door being opened and shut. Unable to avoid the slight distraction I look over to see what other unlucky schlub is going to be working out alone with me this Valentine’s. Immediately my spirits perk up as I recognize the man walking to the weight area across from me. He is, in simplest terms, the hottest man I’ve ever seen. He’s a regular at this gym and has been for a few years now. In fact…wait a minute. Oh damn! It’s been three years exactly since I first saw him. Three years ago on Valentine’s Day. I remember that vividly because just a week before my then-asshole boyfriend broke up with me. Yeah, right before Valentine’s Day. He’d been cheating on me with a supposedly straight hunk from the next city over. I was so distraught I decided to go the gym that day to try for forget that I was single and broken-hearted that Cupid’s day. Alas, that day quickly turned brighter as me and the other lonely gym-goers were treated to our first look at a new member. That day three years ago he had strutted in with a large duffel bag slung around his beefy shoulders. He was wearing a sleeveless gray shirt. Instantly it became clear to anyone that he was the new top stud of this gym. I remember praying to God that he wasn’t just visiting, that he had in fact enrolled. It seemed God was smiling down on me that day. From my typical perch atop the treadmill I stole glances to the weight area to watch him workout. At first he warmed up as I studies his features. At the time he looked to be a thirty-something with a ruggedly handsome face that would’ve made me feel extremely self-conscious if it weren't for the fact that it was also so welcoming. While his face exuded masculinity with his strong jaw, deep set eyes and wide brow, it also had a certain softness to it. He didn’t have the razor sharp looks of a male model, but frankly, the deep cut cheekbones never did much for me. I much preferred the handsome, approachable, next door, jock look…and hello Mr. Former-High-School-Quarterback. Or perhaps he’d been a linebacker with as naturally thick as his frame was, noticeable even under the blanket of muscles that coated him. To top it off he was rocking a short, clean cut beard that covered his cheeks, chin and wrapped around his mouth. No thick straggly wild beard on him, though he oozed enough testosterone he could easily grow one if he wanted. But no, it looked professionally groomed. On top of his head his hair was similarly trimmed. Short but not buzzed with just enough length to allow for slight upward styling toward the front. On that day his beard was mostly dark brown…but in the years since his beard and the sides of his head had started to just subtly become sprinkled with flecks of grey, which only emphasized his experienced sexual aura. As if he weren’t hot enough when he first walked in three years ago. As he warmed up that fateful historic day one of the gym’s trainers, Brienne, stopped by to welcome him to our facility. I had gotten to know Brienne fairly well during my years attending the gym so I made sure to have a chat with her after my workout to discuss this new slab of steak. As they spoke I saw him smile to here and holy mother… The corners of his cheeks spread outward as his sparkling straight teeth exposed themselves. A perfect smile. It just did not seem fair for the rest of manhood that such a perfect specimen could exist. And I haven’t even started talking about his body! What a body. It was a body that matched his face. While Brienne was a short woman, he towered over her indicating to me that he was well over 6 ft tall. I would later learn 6 ft 3 to be exact. Examining his exposed arms, which were rippling, vascular and tanned, along with the way his pecs pressed against his shirt and how his legs hugged his sweatpants, it was clear he was exceptionally developed. With my years of experience of ogling musclemen online I had pegged him at about 250-260 lbs comparing him to some other tall bodybuilders I stalked...er, "followed" on social media. His vascularity lead me to surmise that he was around or just under 10% bodyfat, meaning that he was impressively muscular. No doubt legitimate amateur bodybuilder big. That day he was doing a full body routine. A bit odd for a lifter of his caliber but I had guessed that he was simply taking the day to familiarize him with his new gyms’ weights and machines. Nonetheless, he attacked every exercise with fervor and worked up quite a sweat, soaking his gray shirt and giving his meaty arms a nice sheen. I was sad to depart the the treadmill once my session was complete since he had only worked about half of his muscle groups, but I forced myself to leave. I did not want to give away my muscle-stalker tendencies just yet. On the way out I stopped by the front desk for a quick chat with Brienne. As she saw me approach she mouthed the words “OH MY GOD” indicating her shared awe of the sexy stud. “Ok, Brienne, who is THAT guy?” “Oh you know, Miller. Can’t share that, gym privacy policy!” “You bitch. Spill the beans.” Brienne giggled before looking around. “His name is Hank Walker. Just moved here from Montana.” “Uhhh, of course it’s a hyper masculine name like that. And of course he's a huge sexy mountain man.” “He’s 34 years old and yes, he’s joining our gym.” “Perfect! Just three years older than me…” “Whatever, Miller, that daddy is gonna be mine!” “Ugh. You’re probably right. Guys like him are guaranteed to be straight.” And thus, that day three years ago started my stalker-ish obsession with Hank. We both tended to workout right after work, before the gym became busy with the younger crowd a bit later in the evening. And now that Hank was a regular member I was sure to avoid adjusting my schedule as much as possible. I wanted every opportunity I could to watch him workout from the safety of my treadmill. Of course, a couple of times a week I was afforded the opportunity to get nearer to him when I did my weights routine. It would take all my strength of will not to stare at him as he would lift on the bench next to me. Watching him workout was pure porn for me. I’m purely a muscle lover. When I watch porn, my favorite parts tend to be the foreplay where the guys flex and feel each other. I’ve never understood why so many porn studios hire these big muscular guys and then spend 90% of the video doing closeups of the penetration. Such a waste. Watching Hank’s muscles bunch and flex was hypnotizing, not just to me but to the other gym goers. Those first few weeks he was stopped often by other lifters complimenting him, asking for advice and just generally wanting to be next to this magnetic man. To his credit, he never once lost patience with them and was happy to engage with his new gym family. And if his new admirers lingered too long he would politely excuse himself back to his own workout. Not only was he tall, huge, handsome, he was extremely friendly and good-natured as well… Seriously, fuck this guy, right?!? He’s probably hung like a horse too. And judging by that full bulge, that seemed likely as well. I’ll never forget when he came up to talk to me one hump day afternoon. I was doing my fast paced walk on the treadmill to get warmed up. At this point he had been working out at my gym for a few months and we had exchanged a few silent nods in passing. The gym was especially deserted this Wednesday night and it was just us two and couple of older women using the machines. As I fidgeted with the controls I heard a deep sultry voice that would rival Sam Elliot and James Earl Jones. “Wow, dead in here isn’t it, treadmill guy.” His voice sent shivers down my spine as I turned my head to see his inviting face. I’d been eyeballing him for some time by now from the side but this was the first time I had looked him straight on. Of course, I noted how even though I was elevated six inches up on the treadmill this perfect man was tall enough that I was looking him right in the eyes. And those beautiful hazel yes. And his perfect symmetrical face. Somehow I found my resolve to address him. “”Treadmill guy?’” “Well yeah, I swear I see you on this treadmill every day.” “Well I supposed I’ll call you ‘dumbbell guy’ since you use them every day.” Instantly my throat tightened up, afraid that I had offended this titan. Thankfully he chuckled and his pecs rippled under his shirt. “Fair enough. I’m Hank. Thought I might as well say hi since I see you here all the time. Great dedication you got.” “Well that’s very nice of you to say since…um…you are obviously very dedicated too.” He grinned as I took the opportunity to scan him. “You are one big dude, Hank.” “Big is the goal! I guess you could say I dabble in bodybuilding.” With that he squared his shoulders with a half-flex. And yet with just that minor tensing he seemed to expand another six inches wider. “I’d say you more than dabble. You’re the biggest guy at this gym for sure.” He thanked me before one of those awkward, new acquaintance silences occurred. “Well it’s nice to meet you, Hank. I’m Miller,” I replied, hoping I had successfully hidden the fact that I knew his name months ago. “Treadmiller,” he spoke. “I’m sorry?” “So you’re Treadmiller. Ya know, Treadmill guy. Treadmiller.” “How very clever.” He smiled and laughed again. “Well that will help me remember your name. Don’t be a stranger, Treadmiller!” And with that he turned and sauntered to the free weights, letting me take in his expansive back and hugely bubbled ass. How could a guy so tall have and ass and legs that big? It’s not fair. From then on we would smile and wave to each other. I was more than happy to make any sort of connection to Hank. I was fully smitten. There wasn’t much more exciting to me than getting to watch Hank workout. One of my favorite things about him was that he was a true bodybuilder. I mean, anybody could see that he was a bodybuilder, sure. But he was constantly building his body. What I mean is, he was always GROWING. He wasn’t a body-maintainer. He was always building himself bigger and bigger. And sexier. Seeing him several times a week, at first it was hard to notice. Like any small changes to your own body that can occur, when you are familiarized with something it can be difficult to see progress. But over time it became apparent with little clues here and there. For example, when he did leg days he liked to wear this old light-orange Sunkist t-shirt that still had the sleeves. I could see why he wore it. He looked good in anything but the way that light fabric hugged his pecs, and delts, the way the sleeves perfectly hugged his biceps and triceps, was enough to make me gasp. It was one of those massive shirts that draped on his physique yet still evidenced the bulges underneath. Over some weeks I had thought I had seen that shirt get tighter and tighter…and then one day he came in and the sleeves were torn off. And he proceeded to do an arm workout. I had surmised that he had grown too big for it to be ‘comfortably’ loose so it had graduated into his repertoire of sleeveless upper body workout shirts. Not to mention the fact that he was lifting heavier and heavier weights. When he first started at our gym I remember watching in awe as he benched 355 lbs for a solid set of 10. It was when that had increased to 405 for 12 that I really gave his body a good look. Ok I always did that, but I started paying more attention. And sure enough, his pecs bulged outward and seemed to be crashing into his delts and biceps more and more when he was standing there relaxed. His traps were thickening and rising slightly higher and higher, creeping up his neck which was also expanding. His legs and ass, already enormous, had made some truly tremendous gains. Not to mention the fact the day Brienne had told me Hank had convinced the gym owner to purchase a set of 150, 175 and 200 lb dumbells! So he was constantly growing. Bigger and stronger. Hotter and sexier with each passing year. I noticed that he never had an offseason either. There were a few big guys at my gym, some who had even competed. It was something to watch all my former gym muses, the former biggest and studliest guys gather around and watch and gawk at Hank while he did his workouts. Ray whatshisname? Tyler whocares? They were like little boys next to Hank. My former muses often seemed to have cycles where they would bloat up to bulk and then cut down. Sometimes they would put on a ton of weight all at once, with a lot of fat baked in as well. But Hank…it’s like he was always one or two months out from a competition. He just slowly but steadily grew bigger and more muscular while never losing his striations, definition and vascularity. Knowing that he was always growing fueled my masturbatory sessions many times. Ok, in truth it was probably 75% of the time. Maybe 90%. Shut up, the guy was fucking HOT. And so back to the present day… As I ramped up my treadmill Hank made his way into the weight room. Glancing at me he give me a one hand salute and I returned the gesture. He must be in a bit of a hurry today, often he stops by to say a quick hi. I wonder with it being Valentine’s Day if he has a hot date tonight. Tonight is going to generate and excellent fantasy situation for me, I can already tell and my brain starts to run wild with the possibilities. One nice thing about Hank is that watching him is the perfect beginning for any fantasy. After he warms up he makes his way the dumbbells and an individual flat bench. Today is going to be a treat for me, I can tell. I had long ago memorized his workouts and I quickly recognized from his stretches and warmup sets that today was going to be a chest and biceps day. After some ‘light’ warmup sets with the 80 lb to 100 lb dumbbells he stood up and stripped off his baggy t-shirt. Oh yes. A treat indeed. Hank was wearing a blank stringer-T that draped off his glorious tanned muscles, the tiny straps having no chance of covering any of his expansive torso. His traps and pecs were so large the straps left a deep gap under them like a rope bridge spanning a deep crevice. As I mentioned earlier, Hank was always growing and today he was in full on bodybuilder mode. Big, pumped and defined already and he was just starting. Even his shorts, which were by no means intended to be skin tight, hugged his massive legs and ass due to his hugeness. I watched with lust as he worked his way up to the 120s, 150s, 175s… then the biggest dumbbells in the gym…the 200 lb monsters. And his titanic body handled the weight masterfully. Each rep was performed with form and precision. Each time he pushed the weights up slowly yet forcefully, his pectoral pillows bunched upwards creating a deep ravine in between. Even though each rep was perfect, Hank would let out these deep sexy grunts of effort and his skin would flush and moisten with sweat. After his last rep he set the dumbbells down and even through the treadmill I could feel the THUD as 400 lbs were suddenly set on the ground. Mind you, he didn’t drop the weights, but setting down two 200 lb weights, it’s impossible not to cause a slight tremor. I swooned as I realized he could bench TWO of me easily, one in each hand. After racking the massive cylinders he quickly moved on to barbell bench press. Most gym bros start with this but in his current routine the intent was to go lighter and do more reps to force more blood into those pecs. Of course, if you’d never seen Hank bench, you would assume this was his first lift of the day. Why? Because he slapped plate after plate after plate on each side of the bar. Even after a few set of heavy dumbbell presses Hank proceeded to work up to a 405 lb bench press of 3 sets of 15. Just incredible power. My dick thickened as I listened the four plates on each side of the bar rattle and clang against each other. It was a white noise that signaled size and power were being built. By now Hank's shoulders and triceps were also pumped up due to their secondary support. After the last set he stood up, looked in the mirror and brought his elbows together to flex his pecs. Though he had a body to be one, Hank was not one of those gym bros who full on poses in the mirror. At least not in the middle of the weight room. Nonetheless as a sculptor of sinew he new how to examine himself and make sure his muscular clay was being molded as he saw fit. He moved on to incline dumbbell flies which afforded me another dick plumping view of his pecs mounding upward. I of course made a mental note how he was using the 80 lb dumbbells for flies, where most men couldn’t even simply flat bench that amount, including myself. He was power. He was masculinity. He was pure sex. He finished up his chest pump with with some elevated pushups to give himself a deep finishing burn. You would think a man of his size would struggle having to push that much bodyweight, but he proceeded to pump out 3 sets of 43, 37, and 34 reps respectively, but who’s counting? Me. I counted and watched every rep of my dream man’s workout. By now his pecs were jutting, swollen and red with pump. The tiny stringer left his perfect, perky nips exposed, though they weren’t always easy to see since his pecs were so large that his nips pointed downward. And so, after just 27 minutes he was done with his chest pump workout and what a pump it gave him. Now it was time for biceps. What self respecting muscle lover doesn’t enjoy a good biceps workout? Or better yet, watching an 37 year old uber stud complete a biceps workout. Hank started out with some hammer curls, the mass builders. Again he worked his way up the dumbbell rack pumping the big weights simultaneously with both arms. I took note how Hank rarely spent time down near the smaller weights. It was like anything under 40 lbs had little use for him. He finished his fourth set by eeking out 11 reps with the 90 lbs dumbbells. By now the effort was clear on his face. His chiseled face scrunched up and he squinted his eyes as he grueled his way through each rep. And if you thought he might have an ugly heavy-effort face you obviously have not been reading this story. Even his effort face was sexy as hell. The sets had their intended affect as his arms seemed to have added an inch or two just from the initial pump. Being such a tall and built guy, his arms easily had to have been over 20 inches when he started, he was probably now flirting with 22s or even 23s. Next he grabbed and easy-bar and loaded it up with 155 lbs and began to curl the taxed metal bar over and over. Now that he had worked out his overall arm thickness, the easy bar targetted those massive peaks. Peaks that I wanted to run my tongue over. And don’t get me started on that cephalic vein. What had started as a licorice-sized vein had engorged to something more akin to an air compressor hose. Arm muscles that enormous required a large diameter tube to transport the blood and nutrients to fuel his growth. While he was already vascular, by this point in the workout his body had become a network of veins threatening to break away from his engorged body. He shook out his arms and I watched mesmerized as the unflexed meat of his triceps swayed and wobbled. I swear even from across the gym I could feel the air being displaced by the movements of such a muscular titan. He finished up with preacher curls, this time lightening up the weight and ‘only’ using the 55 lb dumbbells. To really blast those peaks upward toward the sky. Even from my vantage point I could make out he split between the two muscle heads that give the biceps their name. After the third set Hank returned the weights to the rack and once again shook out his arms before flexing them to tightness at his side. His workout was one of the most erotic things I had ever seen. Sure, I’d spied him lifting before, but as he was continuously growing, this was the biggest and most pumped I’d ever seen him. Shit, even his legs looked pumped even thought this was all upper body. But when you pour as much effort into every rep, every set, as he does, it’s clear that an overall residual pump had been created. Hank then grabbed an elastic band and proceeded to some quick stretches to make sure all his mobility was intact. I sighed as my boner pressed against my hip, sad that he would be departing soon. Hank's workouts were always focused and expeditious, but today’s was even a step faster. Perhaps for this lovers holiday he had some lucky girl waiting for him tonight and he was in a hurry to get to her. Bitch. In my developing fantasy this hyper masculine man would be heading my direction as soon as his workout was finished and smother me with his muscles... By now my typical 45 minutes of cardio were up and I had slowed down the treadmill to a warm down walk. I prepared myself for Hank's departure but spotted him walking my way. My heart started beating faster as he neared. He usually left right after his weight session so I rarely got to see him at his biggest. All pumped. Sweaty. Massive. As he approached he looked me right in eye and gave me a warm smile. What could he possibly want with me? This tall, sexy bodybuilder could have anybody- “Are you getting lost in that pretty little head of yours again, babe?” He interrupted me with a smirk. The sexiest, most lust-filled smirk you can imagine. “Well don’t take too much more time in that head of yours, we’ve got that reservation tonight at the Red Orchid.” He chuckled and rested his big arms on the bars of the treadmill. Being this close I was bathed in his workout scent. A powerful aroma of testosterone, sweat, musk and a hint of deodorant. “I- I was just watching you workout.” His grin widened. Fuck he was smoldering when he smiled. “So you WERE having a gym fantasy, watching little ole me lift?” “I can assure you there is NOTHING little about you.” He glanced at his pumped pecs and arms, then back to my yearning face. His smirk returned an he proceeded to bounce his pecs before raising his left arm and flexing a titanic biceps in front of me. For me. I said nothing but I’m sure at least 3 oz of drool fell out of my mouth. “You’re right, Miller. Everything on me seems to be BIGGER than ever. It must be the affect my adorable husband has on me. He makes me want to grow and grow for him.” I caught my breath and was finally able to speak. “And nothing excites your husband than watching his big sexy bodybuilder man grow bigger.” This time is was Hank's turn to close his eyes and maintain control. “You are so sexy, Miller, I can’t even tell you how much I love you and your tight power packed body. Even though I dwarf you there is nothing sexier to me. And I know you love my size and power. In fact, I got a quick surprise for you babe. Guess what.” Though nothing could ever top the surprise when he proposed to me 16 months ago, any surprises Hank had given me in the past ultimately led to very exciting things, so I was eager to know what he was up to... “What?” “I did it.” “You did it? You did what?” I looked at him as he smirked at me. He stepped back and proceeded to perform a side chest pose. Then a most muscular, his face scrunching as he let out a alpha growl. He his all his poses with graceful fluidity. His flexed muscles exploded even bigger. His posing always took my breath away and I drooled some more as I took in his size. Size. A lot of size. Suddenly it dawned on me. “WAIT…you did…IT??” “Fuck yeah, babe. I finally crossed the barrier. Weighed in at 303 lbs this morning naked.” “UNNNNNNNNN” I was unable to contain my moan and I felt my rock hard dick leak. It was a goal that my husband, with obvious support from me, had had since we started dating two years ago. Way back when Hank was just a “small’ 257 lb bodybuilder. “Oh Hank. You are so damn sexy. And so BIG. You’ve got me raging for you, my big man. We might have to skip that dinner so I can ravage you right now!” I walked up to my hulking husband and wrapped my lithe arms around his titanic torso, pushing my cheeks against his pumped pectorals. From his six inch height advantage he leaned me back, leaned down and smothered my face with his mouth, his beard sexily scratching at my shaved cheeks. Even his tongue was pure power as he used its size to dominate my smaller warm mouth. My arms felt all around his pumped muscles, squeezing and groping the various rock hard masses on his body, being moistened by the sheen of sweat that coated him. I broke myself free of his hovering mouth, reached under his arms and pushed his triceps upward. With a smile he caught on and brought both arms up into a Mr. Olympia worthy double-biceps pose. I smashed my face into his right arm, licking the warm pulsating mass. I was soon sliding my mouth up and under his arm until I buried my face in his armpit and inhaled. My big man moaned deep and heavy from above. “Shit babe, if we don’t stop we are going to give the gym’s cameras a porno show.” “It would be worth it! You're just too hot, Hank.” I reached down and grabbed his bulge through his shorts. Like the rest of him it was over-sized, of course. Seriously, fuck this guy, right? Yes. And I had gotten to. Often. It’s ok to be jealous. I loved how I could make his enormous body shudder as I grabbed his thick, perfectly cylindrical cock. Like the rest of him it was big, almost nine inches long. And let me assure you, those inches were not those elongated "gay inches" either. He wasn’t actually 7 inches. His unit was legitimately a huge monster cock at just under nine pure inches. Hank grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back, holding me at arm’s length. I could see the fight in his eyes, he wanted this to continue as much as me, but alas, we had a reservation at the most expensive restaurant in town. “I promise you, Miller. You will get to explore every inch of this massive 300 pound body after dinner…that is, right after I hold you down and lick every square inch of yours.” My body shuddered as I pictured my future. I regained my composure and calmed my heartbeat. “You’re right. We can do it. We can control ourselves for the two hours, right? RIGHT?!” We both laughed. It would be a tough mission for both of us. “Plus the idea of seeing your massiveness in that suit of yours is too much to pass up.” “Attaboy. And you know, that suit was tailored for me when I was just 275 lbs…so it’s gonna be extra tight now.” I rolled my eyes back again and moaned. “And for being such a good sport, I’ll even wear my posing trunks under the suit for when you undress me after dinner.” "The blue shiny ones? Those are my favorite." "You got it, babe." Thank god the gym this Valentine’s Day was deserted. I’m sure two dudes throwing massive wood in the middle of the gym floor went against gym policy. “I can’t wait, Hank. I love you.” “I love you too, Miller. Happy Valentine’s Day, babe.”

Hey everyone, this storyfied roleplay is quite a slow burn and turned out to be just an experiment on how to tease. Enjoy! --------------- Credits to the following (discord) role-player’s I met to create this: CookiesAreCool, MwS Copyright disclaimer: I don't own any picture. I link every source if possible. Please contact me or a moderator in case of demanded removal.

Hi everyone, I’m posting here the PART II sequel to my last story, Condo Hookup. It’s another fairly short one, at four chapters, and will bring you up to date on what’s happening in the lives of our two protagonists, Biff and Timmy. Hope you like it. Dennis CONDO HOOKUP PART II CHAPTER I When you last read about Biff and Timmy it was about five months earlier, June 2023. During a summer tropical storm, one typically experienced by the residents of South Florida that time of year, they saw each other for the first time in their condo’s gym. Timmy excitedly spotted and recognized Biff from the muscle sites he wanked to as the newly crowned Mr. America. The handsome 28-year-old bodybuilder stole the 39 year old Timmy’s heart immediately. Biff had HIS first gaze upon Timmy when he turned around after finishing drinking from the gym’s fountain. With water dripping from his lips to his bulging pectorals, he looked down at the runway-handsome blond model. When he saw the familiar muscle-heaven daze that his extreme admirers experienced when they were close to him, he sealed the deal with Timmy by giving him an obligatory quick pec bounce. It was another day for Biff at a gym in training for the Mr. Olympia contest to be held the following November. Rather than its usual venue in Vegas, this year it was to be held in Orlando, a much more convenient location for Biff. It was just up the peninsular a couple of hundred miles with just a few hours of travel time to reach, when taking the Florida Turnpike. Besides all the fame and prestige of winning the most coveted bodybuilding trophy, the sponsorships, endorsements, and $400,000 cash prize was a tremendous incentive for those in competition. Many experts in the bodybuilding realm had said that Biff was sure to take the first-place overall prize. But it was love at first sight in the condo gym for the two guys, and they consummated their relationship a few days later after bumping into each other outside Timmy’s apartment, right down the hall from where Biff lived. * Fast forward to November, and Timmy is sitting in the front row of the huge Orange County Convention Center at the conclusion of the Mr. Olympia competition. He is hoarse from screaming his support for his boyfriend Biff who had just won the top Eugen Sandow trophy. His mass, symmetry, proportion, definition, and stage presence wowed the judges unanimously. Biff was backstage now texting Timmy, telling him that he was freezing because of his low body fat and, more importantly, that he’s practically naked now. “Hey little boy, my muscle-bod is covered now by just my skimpy posing trunks that hardly even holds my privates. It really looks quite obscene, you know.” “There you go again with that porn talk, Biff. You know what that does to me! Do you want me to come backstage to warm you up, big-boy? “Yeah, and while you’re here why not give me a nice blow job too. And after you’ve had fun doing that for me, it might also serve to reduce some of the bulge in my posing trunks that I now have even more thinking about what I want to do to you when we get home. If you don’t help me now with my dick, it might actually flop out when I come back on stage to say hello again to all my fans in the audience soon.” Their fun texting continued for a while until it was interrupted with, “OK, ladies and gentlemen. Give a warm congratulations to our newly crowned Mr. Olympia!” The audience erupted into a quick roar, showing their appreciation for the handsome new muscle-king of the world. “Biff Stevens, hailing from just down the Pike a piece in South Florida. Come on down front and strut your stuff and give your fans just one more flex.” Timmy’s eyes were glued to the back of the stage where he then saw Biff coming out as the huge convention center auditorium continued their applause and hooting even louder. Biff was spectacular- looking, with not a muscle ignored on his tanned to perfection physique. Timmy chuckled when he saw what his boyfriend was talking about regarding the difficulty with his posing trunks. Biff really did have a problem trying to conceal his dick in it! Timmy thought that the root of Biff’s thick cock as well as its enormous crown’s outline might actually be showing. Could that be? And the audience members must see it as well! Biff was well aware of it, and he seemed to not give a shit. All he heard was the thunderous reaction of his supportive fans, who, to a certain extent, were perhaps screaming their love of Mr. Olympia’s package as well! Timmy also questioned himself, “Is this being televised for future streaming, and maybe a million people will also see Biff’s abundance down there?” Suddenly, Biff, as he waved to the cheering audience, very confidently came down to the edge of the stage, right in front of his boyfriend. Timmy looked almost straight up at the muscle-Adonis and then watched as he put his trophy down to do a most muscular. Timmy heard a cocky “Oof” accompany the pose and then actually felt some spray from Biff’s overly enthusiastic grunt. Biff then looked right down at Timmy and gave his boyfriend a white-teeth-and-dimples smile with a wink. The same one he gave him many months ago when they looked at one another in the condo’s gym many months ago. After a long time with photographers, autographs for his lined-up fans, and the signing of some endorsement contracts with various bodybuilding products, Biff and Timmy finally leave the convention center. They get into Biff’s convertible sports car and head down the Turnpike for home. Timmy put on the radio, and they hear Elton John singing “Philadelphia Freedom.” As loud as they can shout, they sing along with the words and even try imitating the music of a favorite singer of theirs. “Philadelphia freedom took me knee-high to a man, yeah. Gave me peace of mind my daddy never had.” Biff and Timmy laughed loudly at the lyrics’ innuendo, as well as at the unbelievable day this had been and the great time they were having together now. · After arriving home, Biff has just a few days to unwind with some R & R after Orlando’s massive highs, before he got to work on his contracted endorsements for the companies he’ll be promoting. There’s also been some serious buzz about Hollywood being interested in using him in a film. This was a little nerve-wracking to the usually laid-back Biff, knowing this potential work would be 3,000 miles away in LA and, well, he knew he had no acting credentials. When he expressed this anxiety to Timmy, his lover told him that if this actually happens, he would join him in California for a while, and then said bluntly, “Biff, but you do know that they’re not hiring you for your acting skills!” They both smiled at that, because of course that was true. Several days later and still showing signs of the dark tan-spray used on him at the Mr. O contest, Biff arrived back at their apartment after spending a grueling few hours at his hard-core gym. His boyfriend was on a mat in the living room in front of floor-to-ceiling windows with views overlooking the ocean doing his yoga, stretching and sit-up exercises for the day. Timmy looked up at him and sighed. He still can’t help getting overwhelmed every time by Biff’s phenomenal muscularity, especially when it’s freshly pumped from lifting. He sees Biff now as an even more spectacular sight to behold. Biff wore a tight-fitting tee shirt that had simply “LIFT” shown on the front. Actually, all of his clothes are tight, either because he liked the sexy look that that gave him, or he’s become even more muscular since recently buying that article of clothing. Mr. Olympia grinned from ear to ear when he saw Timmy’s mouth expectantly open. He knows his muscle-obsessed boyfriend all too well. Biff decides to go for the full Monty. Still looking down at Timmy who’s looking excitedly up at his boyfriend, he then slowly, with perfect orchestration, pulls his shirt over his head. Timmy and Biff have been together for over five months already, and Timmy saw that in the lead up to the Olympia, with his frequent workouts and crazy eating and dieting, Biff had gotten phenomenally muscular and ripped heading into the contest. And now, still, even with some post-contest cheat-meals and a cut-down of grueling lifting routines, Biff appeared to have maintained the same massive and sensuously ripped muscular condition. Timmy was dizzy with extreme desire as he studied just a few muscular attractions on his boyfriend’s physique. Biff’s abs were so very chiseled and couldn’t be more defined. The crevice between his steel hard solid bulging pectorals was deep. His lats flared from his relatively small waist. Biff saw the effect he was having on Timmy tour and, in his deep and seductive voice, said, “Hey Little Dutch boy. Do you wanna cop a feel.” “Oh yes sir, whatever you say”, Timmy giggled with their kinky role-playing. “But you’re so big and strong and I’m frightened of you and what you could do to little me.” Now it’ was Biff’s turn to giggle. “Do all my big, beautiful Mr. Olympia muscles make you all horny?” Biff then looked at Timmy with a seductive smile and a sexy Colin Farrellesque caterpillar eyebrow raised, waiting for a response. Biff then nonchalantly erotically danced his pectoral striations a little. From his huge experience, Biff knew just the right moves to achieve the perfect effect on the muscle-addicted admirer. “God, Biff. I’m sure you know just what you’re fucking doing to me now.” Biff continued with just a little more porn-talk to Timmy’s ears. “After each gym visit, I just keep packing on the ripped muscle to my sexy bod.” Biff then did a quick most muscular with his usual “oof” shout out. “I’m just packed with all fucking solid steel-plated rippling and bulging sexy muscles. As you can clearly see, I’m sure, little boy.” The bodybuilder may have gone just a little too far as Timmy was now very amused by his talk. But then Biff moved closer to his boyfriend as his muscles shifted and slid erotically. He put out a muscular hand to Timmy to raise him from the mat. Timmy stared at its muscular forearm lined with veins and his enormous bulging biceps lined with a thick cephalic vein which wasn’t even flexing. Effortlessly, Biff pulled Timmy to his feet, and they then stood toe to toe. The six-foot-even model looked up several inches into the 6’5” Mr. Olympia’s eyes. Timmy put his slender hands onto Biff’s enormous solid bulging pectorals and their dicks were now leaking in their very hard excited condition.

I raised the two revolvers into the air – one in each hand. Snatching them out of the two men’s grip with super speed had been fun. They were still a little shocked by and unsure of what had happened. Both of them looked at my face, but their gaze slowly moved down my enormous arms to my hands. I squeezed. The casings gave like it was soft dough and they screeched a high ear-piercing sound. My dick throbbed at the feeling of the revolvers buckling in on themselves. I loved how little pressure I was applying and, yet, the weapons were unable to prevent themselves from being reconfigured. My hands demolished steel as if I were just wadding up a tissue. The alarmed faces of the two men made it clear the revolvers were looking a little mangled . . . and just by me squeezing lightly with my big mitts. I opened my fingers a little and adjusted the revolvers in my grip. I then squeezed again – harder this time. It just wasn’t a fair fight – something much stronger was flattening the guns. I saw panic rocket into the eyes of both men – like it was finally dawning on them what was happening. Freaking guys out with my strength was enough to make me cum, but I prevented a premature ejaculation. The fun was just getting started. These fellas had no idea what was amazing things were to come. You would have thought the revolvers were made of tinfoil by the way I so easily crushed them. God, I loved being strong . . . strong enough to make solid steel do what I wanted. The screeching stopped because I stopped squeezing. I brought my arms down and held out the guns – now flattened into nothing more than globs of useless junk – in my open palms. “Fire away, gentlemen,” I said – the teasing dripping off every word and that exciting me even more, “but I get the feeling they’re not going to work anymore. Here, let’s make it so you have to share.” They were too stunned to really hear anything I was saying. I got the feeling that if they could have moved they would have pinched themselves to see if they were dreaming. They just stared at hand-crushed steel – shocked by the deep finger grooves embedded in the clump. Their brains were still trying to catch up with their eyes. It just didn’t compute that someone could do such a thing. No human could simply squeeze a pistol into something unusable. No one had that kind of strength. It was clear they were trying to see how a trick had been played on them. Had their revolvers been replaced by chocolate ones? But then, what explained the screeching sound coming from my hands? Their confusion, coupled with the acts of strength my hands had just easily performed, was making my cock throb with so much delight I knew the show needed to continue. I wanted to edge myself and shock these two for as long as I could. “I’m feeling extra strong today, fellas. More like fucking super strong. Here, I’ll show you what I mean,” I teased even more – forcing my throbbing meat not to explode. I brought the two crushed solid steel blobs, which used to be revolvers, together and pushed them between my palms. I opened the palms in a prayerful position. I, again, held them up so my feat was even with their faces. I wanted the guys to have a front row seat for the muscle show. My cock was jacked-to-the-max by now, so I couldn’t have stopped my need to show off even if I had wanted to. I pressed my hands together and the two crushed pieces of steel started compressing into one, as if I were just a kid smashing two pieces of soft clay together. My palms moved closer to each other – ignoring the clump of steel between them. It was so easy, but such a huge turn-on, that I could feel my dick slit spitting out some dense pre-cum. Making metal, iron, steel, or any combination of those materials yield to my strength was so energizing . . . so freakishly and unbelievable destructive . . . I simply couldn’t help myself from getting excited. But what intensified the pleasure to the point of leakage was watching the faces of the two men in front of me. Their incomprehension as they watched dark steel start to seep out between my fingers because my hands were mashing it together with a force way beyond that of giant machinery created a need in me that was as powerful as my body. It made me want more . . . more feats that would make these men quiver in fear from their shock. My body . . . and my sexual desire . . . demanded I do more. I pulled my hands apart and let the now full combined, flattened chunk of steel – no longer distinguishable as having been two revolvers at one point – lay in the palm of my right hand. The two men still weren’t moving – they weren’t even inhaling – simply because they could not grasp what had just happened. My strength was beyond their intellectual capacity. Even their imagination couldn’t come close to conjuring my power. “I love playing with steel, fellas. It’s so malleable – don’t you think? I’m feeling fucking strong tonight, guys. Does one of you want to pull the trigger? That is, I guess, if you can find it,” I teased even more because I was so pumped with adrenaline. “I’m going to keep this as a little souvenir of my abilities . . . even if that’s not okay with you guys. You have no choice, anyway. So . . . in case the two of you huge strapping lugs-of-men can’t figure out what comes next . . . this is the moment where you run like hell. You know, where you actually think you can get away from me. Go ahead. I know you know where the door is. I’ll even give you time to unlock it.” Fifteen minutes ago, they had been two mastermind criminals robbing a bank at two in the morning – completely sure of their plan to walk away with millions in cash, having clearly taken into account every possible thing that could go wrong. Everything, that is, except for the humongous, nearly naked, muscled mass, which they couldn’t have even imagined, that stood in front of them now . . . after having crushed their stainless steel Magnums with what seemed like no effort at all. Nope, there could have been no way for them to have anticipated me punching through the wall near them – since I didn’t want to set off the alarm by ripping one of the bank’s front doors off. Nor could they have planned on me having rounds of bullets from both guns bouncing off my hugely muscled body as if they were just annoying gnats. I wish I could have seen their faces when my giant fist had first plowed through the thick concrete wall like a human battering ram. I’m sure it took them a few minutes to figure out what it was. I had waited almost a full minute for them to gaze at the huge thing poking out of the hole. And then it certainly would have been hot watching their eyes grow bigger when said hand basically grabbed the wall and pulled a giant chunk of it away – enough to fit my enormous body, which had to up their shock level to even newer heights, through without having to destroy more of the building. I loved how they thought their bullets were going to hurt a man that had just easily punched and ripped apart concrete. But the sound of guns firing and the delayed sounds of bullets ricocheting everywhere as they were repelled by my hard body had been a subtle addition for my budding hard-on, so that by the time I held their guns in my own hands the thing was fully, and monstrously engorged. Of course, the two fellas weren’t looking at my cock . . . they were too shocked by my now dust covered colossal body and the fact that I had somehow gotten their now emptied revolvers without them really knowing how. Their aching trigger fingers, however, led them to believe I had simply pulled the weapons from their hands, but they hadn’t seem me do it. Somehow, even in the midst of their fear that they were seeing some kind of muscled apparition or alien from space, the two big men moved with amazing speed as soon as I had suggested that they run. I didn’t follow . . . since I knew I didn’t have to. When they got to the front doors of the bank, the quickest exit since I was still standing in front of the hole I had ripped out of the wall, they were going to find their huge Hummer SUV on its side blocking the doors. If they were not totally freaked out, they were also going to be able to see that the enormous vehicle was now smashed into something that resembled a flattened sheet of metal. I turned so I could see their reactions when they realized there was no exiting the front door, as well as comprehending the fact that I had, surely by hand, too, destroyed their enormous getaway car. Fuck, my balls were aching from the excitement all of this was causing. I thought about how hot it would be to slam my raging boner through the giant thick-as-shit safe door the fellas were about to crack open . . . but I knew I’d already done enough damage to the place, and that there would probably be a little more. I also knew there were reasons for me to wait – the first being the fact that two gentlemen needed to be freaked out more by my strength. “Guys, you hurt my feelings wanting to leave the party so soon. Luckily, it looks like something . . . or someone . . . has blocked your exit. What on earth could have flattened your SUV? Oh yeah, I think it was these massive things,” I said, raising my humongous arms into a double biceps flex, knowing the sight would actually shock the two men more than everything else that had happened to that point. “Fucking hell,” one of them yelled as soon as my arms were tensed and up in the air. This was more of a reaction than I could have dreamed for. Both men were, again, completely frozen and so wide-eyed it looked like they had seen a ghost. The enormity of my body had not fazed the two men when they had held revolvers in their hands. That had, in their limited minds, evened the playing field. They didn’t need to process the fact that I had just busted through solid concrete with a powerful punch or the fact that I towered over their big bodies – which were clearly more than six feet tall with each of them weighing more than two hundred and fifty pounds. They had clearly thought it didn’t matter how big I was because there were two of them and they had fucking guns, as well! All color was beginning to be drained from their faces by fear as their thick heads slowly began to fully comprehend my seemingly unlimited strength . . . and the fact that my flexed biceps had been the biggest they’d ever seen in their entire lives. The shiny light-blue posers I wore – hiding nothing of the monstrous thing that was barely contained inside – reflected what little light that came in the front glass doors since they were blocked by a huge, crushed-by-my-very-own-hands Hummer. My thick as small fridge thighs scraped together in a muscle-freak kind of way as I waddled a few steps toward the men. The fact that I was barefoot was not lost on the two guys, who were slowly waking up to the reality that I was a muscled behemoth – much larger than anyone they had ever seen before. The muscle between my quads pushing against each other when I moved made me remember just how thick my legs were . . . and that turned me on more. My posers were strained by my hard-on, already, so this just added to the fabric being stretched to near bursting. Luckily, the two men hadn’t seriously looked at my crotch, yet. I think that shock might have made both of them pass out. I moved toward the men slowly because I looked forward to exactly what I knew two goons like this would do in a tight situation, even after all that I had already done. Threatened by my enormous size coming closer, they were going to opt for hand-to-hand combat and that was going to be hot as hell. “Why don’t you guys call 911 and turn yourselves in. Or you could tell the operator that there’s a muscled freak busting through walls and destroying SUVs. I’m sure they’ll believe you,” I teased, moving within striking distance. What was it with certain kinds of men? These two goons had seen me punch through a wall and then rip out a huge chunk of it so I could fit through. They had seen my big hands easily crush solid steel revolvers until it oozed out like toothpaste being squeezed out a tube. They saw what was clearly my handiwork on their demolished SUV. And yet, despite all this, they thought it would be wise to fight me. Of course, that’s exactly what I had hoped for. Being turned on by my own strength enabled me to milk out enough pre-cum to equal the full-on orgasms of five or six men. I chose to wear only posers because watching fists come to sudden and painful stops against my skin was so much better than if I were wearing clothes. Besides, when I had a shirt on and some guy punched me, he usually though I had a steel plate or bullet-proof vest on underneath. When I was shirtless it made the awareness that my muscle-supported skin was, indeed, rock hard. I speedily crunched my abs when I sensed the guy on the right was going to recklessly throw a punch. I also stuck out my jaw a little when I saw the other dude’s leg cock back for what I knew would be a high flying kick to my face. I was actually impressed that he thought he could kick that far in the air . . . which it turns out he could. The fist met my unyielding stomach first and, immediately, the man cried out in pain as his fist folded in on itself like a paper fan and fingers broke at the knuckles. My abs, however, didn’t give at all. That’s when a flying foot-supported shoe came smacking against my chin. My neck, thicker than most men’s waist didn’t move at all. My chin repelled the kick, easily. I heard the crunch of an ankle and saw the jolt of a stopped leg being pushed back up into the man’s body. I knew he’d be having a lot of hip problems later on. The poor guy simply fell to the ground in pain, his body even more shocked than his mind by being obstructed so easily. “That was pointless, don’t you think, gentlemen? Now you’ve gone and hurt yourselves. I know you big fellas think you’re strong . . . but there is always something, or someone, that is bigger and stronger – don’t you think? Well, in this case, there definitely is. You’d think seeing my fist power through a thick concrete wall might have alerted you to the hardness of my body . . . but no, you fellas thought you could punch your way through all of this. A speeding semi isn’t going to make this huge body move, guys, and it’s going to be totaled in the process. But you two thought your weak punches would do something to me. I find your bravery or stupidity very hot, though, fellas. Thank goodness my posers are waterproof or you’d be seeing a huge wet stain at my crotch . . . I’ve been leaking ever since I flattened the roof of your Hummer with one open-palmed slam. I’m surprised you guys didn’t hear the windows shattering or the metal giving in to my power – even though I carried the thing a few blocks away so you wouldn’t. Then I simply grabbed the front of the vehicle and lifted it over my head to bang it back and forth down on the ground – shaking buildings around me. After just a few slams to the ground that big thing was flattened. It blocks the door perfectly now,” I said looking out at the demolished vehicle. I looked to my right and saw a metal gated door in front of the glass door that led to the safety deposit boxes. I saw that the gate had bars about as thick as a tightly rolled up yoga mat and that when you closed the gate the poles extended electronically into the ceiling and floor. I loved how safely secure the bank felt their boxes were . . . just because of some thick steel poles. They clearly didn’t know I was dropping by or they might have left the door open . . . cause those weak things weren’t going to keep me out. I wasn’t interested in ripping open some safety deposit boxes, though. I was more interested in the thick steel poles of the door. I looked down at the muscled goons – one was lying on the floor massaging his hip and twisting his foot around. The other was hanging onto his now limp wrist and watching his hand flop back and forth. I was pretty sure they weren’t going anywhere, so I walked over to the gate. My huge hand easily wrapped around one of the poles near the top, but I took a few minutes to think about how the hands of the goons behind me would have only gone halfway. I felt a gob of pre-cum the size of a lemon bubble out of the slit of my cock as I thought about what I was about to do. I knew the sound would thrill me, tremendously, but the vision of what my hand was doing would be the best part of it. I squeezed my hand, loving how the solid steel pole bent in from the pressure of my fingers. Fucking up solid steel was still one of my favorite things to do . . . and it never got old. I tugged lightly and the top of the pole and ripped it from the cement wall like it had been attached to a mighty bulldozer, which yanked it away. At the same time, the steel brackets that went horizontal around the six poles of the gate snapped in two and I easily wrenched the entire pole towards me. I then jerked it a little and it broke free from the floor, as well. I now had a solid steel pole that was about seven feet long and only slightly bent from where I crushed it with my hand. I turned back towards my two goons – who had stopped trying to take care of their injuries to gawk with shock at my latest feat of strength. Again, they were silent and unmoving – floored by what I had just done and a lot more scared, now. “What? Fellas, your faces look surprised and even a little petrified. Is that supposed to be hard or something? It’s just a solid steel pipe bolted in a cement ceiling and floor. What’s the big deal? Ripping it out was easy. And look how simple it is to bend this steel pole,” I said with a little chuckle as I held up the long piece of steel. I knew I’d get a rush from watching their faces as my arms popped thicker when I started to make the beam of metal buckle in the middle. There was a much louder metallic shriek this time around. Making the huge piece of steel do my bidding was much different from crushing little revolvers. Ripping it from the gate was one thing, but holding it even with my mighty chest and slowly making it bow like it was simply a flimsy breadstick was much more impressive. The two guys were so entranced they had even forgotten about the pain in their bodies. I could have simply ripped the thing apart if I had wanted to, but prolonging the squeal, tensing my muscles bigger and bigger while I acted like it was taking more strength than it was, and leaking huge amounts of pre-cum in direct proportion to the wide opening of the guys’ mouths and eyes was just too much of a thrill to pass up. It was like intense foreplay. I knew how god-like I looked – how unbelievable it was that I could so easily make solid, thick steel do what I wanted it to do. These men didn’t know whether to be impressed or scared shitless. I think it was a little of both. I was forcing my chest to swell up monstrously, so it was even more intimidating behind the steel pole being abused so effortlessly. When I created a right angle with the pole I stopped and then held the heavy thing in one hand – as if I were simply making balloon art. “You’re thinking about all the incredible power in these big guns, aren’t you, fellas? I’m the enemy, but you can’t help being impressed with my size and my strength. There’s part of you that wants to see more and that bothers the hell out of you, doesn’t it? You wanted to crush the huge invader quickly and finish the job you were doing . . . but I just proved to be too much, didn’t I? Bending thick steel makes me happy, gentlemen. I find it very exciting to know that my hands are making something so unbreakable . . . something supposedly no man could ever manipulate so easily . . . surrender to something much more powerful. I like bending it just because I can . . . and everyone else can’t. I went slow to impress you, fellas, but really I can bend it easily,” I said, grabbing the big bar with my other hand and snapping it back into a long sort-of straight pole in a flash. “Fuck, guys, look how easily it is for me to bend it back and forth.” I was moving my arms up and down easily and the steel beam was squeaking loudly as it was force to bend this way and then that way. I made it look like it was a piece of cake to do, but the sound made it clear that the beam would have yielded to no one else. Each time I went up and down with my arms the eyes of the two goons got bigger and their mouths dropped open wider. Damn, they were smitten by my power at this point. They still couldn’t comprehend how a guy could be so big and strong, but now they were just enjoying the show. I stopped bending and slid my hands to one of the solid ends, letting the other side bang loudly on the bank’s floor. I then turned a little so the men could see what I was doing. I pressed the fingers of both hands into the center of the pole – the steel giving way without me straining that much. When I was up to my knuckles I started pulling the pole apart. It was like string cheese that I was ripping into two pieces. By this point my cock had made my posers so tight the seams were digging into my skin. My forearms and biceps seemed to double in size and were now a roadmap of thick rope-sized veins. Bending solid steel had been pretty loud, but tearing it apart was a hell-of-a-lot louder. I watched the two men staring at my humongous arms because I knew their faces would edge me closer to release than anything. It only registered to me that I was doing some astounding feat of strength because of their reactions, since it took no effort at all for me to peel the steel pole in two. I knew my balls were a dark purple from holding back my orgasm while I watched two big dudes become strength junkies right before my very eyes. “Yeah, you see, fellas . . . it turns me on to think that you two have thought, probably for a long time, that you were stronger . . . more powerful . . . and bigger than most men. You’d probably even gotten a little cocky – intimidating fellas at the gym, or co-workers, or just some smaller man you happened to be around. Let’s call a spade a spade, okay, men – I bet both of you have turned into bullies just because of your size. Well, my balls are aching big time, fellas, knowing that you’re getting a big taste of your own medicine, tonight. That broken wrist and messed up ankle, along with the fact that you’re freaked out by my incredible strength . . . well, that just turns me on more than you can imagine. Like a tree falling in the woods and the question about does it make a sound if no one is around to hear it . . . well, is super strength worth it if there’s no one around to be in awe of it. If it’s only me doing incredible feats of strength I can certainly have fun doing what I know is impossible for other men . . . but it’s when those other men are staring open-mouthed and wide-eyed, like you two are, that it seems my power is really worth it. I wish you could know what it feels like to pull apart steel. It’s fucking great, guys,” I said, now completely in show off mode and getting so horned up I was worried about exploding. I now had the steel beam completely ripped in two and was jacked beyond what the two men thought was possible for a human. I had a feeling I looked like some bodybuilder who had been morphed even beyond his already enormous size. I figured the head of my gigantic cock had popped out of the waistline of my posers because one of the guys – the one with the hurt wrist – simply passed out. I think, when he saw that the tip of my cock was the size of a coconut, he couldn’t take the idea that I might choose to do something to him with it, so his body shut down and he lost consciousness. The other goon, the one with the busted ankle, was green in the face – both from being envious and scared to hell. I held the two ripped long strips of steel in one hand and shoved my cockhead back into my posers, which actually took some effort. I wanted to spare the conscious guy of any more worry. I did, however, long to show him that my tool was just as powerful as the rest of me . . . but I definitely thought it would be too much for him to handle. Making a guy pass out was fun, but causing a heart attack was not my kind of thing. How the hell could the guy gawk at my muscles and strength if he was dead? That’s how I saw it. “Sorry about that, fella. A big man like me needs to have the meat to match, don’t you think? Although, it can be a little distressing the first time you see that humongous thing. Just so you know, though, it’s as strong as the rest of me,” I said, figuring out what it would do to the guy. The eyes of goon number two, the one still conscious, somehow got even wider than they already were at the idea that my cock was super strong. I watched as he clenched his butt cheeks together as a natural response to the fear caused by what I said. Then, as if he wanted to join his friend in la-la-land, he simply fell over – out like a light. Immediately, the excitement level of showing off my strength diminished. Sure, I was still going to have some fun, but it just wasn’t going to be the same without having shocked faces staring at me. I walked over to the two limp bodies and stared down at the would-be bank robbers. Their well-planned heist had gone terribly wrong and they would wonder for years why they had been foiled by some giant hulk of a man who punched through walls and condensed Hummers. I felt the blob of metal that used to be guns snug in my posers, pushing up against my balls. At least I’d have some jerk-off material for a while – the reactions of these two guys were stellar among the men I’d allowed to get a brief intro to my strength. I bent down and curled one of the guys in on himself and then I wrapped one of the strips of steel around the back of the guy’s knees and his body. I fastened a hand sized loop at the end of the strip after twisting the ends together. I did the same with the second guy. I was making human dumbbells, figuring I could curl the two men while looking at myself in the reflection of the windows to have a little more fun. Before I started lifting the two men, I reached into the pocket of one of them and pulled out his phone. I used the guy’s finger to open it and then I typed in a number. “Um yes, I’d like to report a foiled bank robbery at the First National Bank on Fifth and Main. Naw, there’s no rush . . . the two robbers have been subdued and are about to be curled for some reps. Oh never mind. Just so you know, this is a Code Humongous reporting. Yep, that’s right. No, they won’t be going anywhere soon, so take your time,” I said, reporting the crime. I hung up the phone, but before I slipped it back into his pocket, I took a few pictures of my flexed biceps just to haunt him a little later on. I then grabbed the two homemade rings and easily lifted both men in the air – each with one hand. For the next fifteen minutes I worked out my biceps using the two men as my weights. It was a lot more fun than I had anticipated – watching me sling around fully grown men so easily. I heard a siren in the distance, so I went into action. I took the guys outside and twisted the ends of the steel around a parking meter so they couldn’t escape – even though they were still out cold. I moved the Hummer from the doorway over to the hole I had made in the wall. I shoved the vehicle hard into the concrete until I knew it was lodged into the cement so deeply it wasn’t going anywhere without some heavy machinery . . . or my arms. I quickly untwisted the metal from the bodies of the two men and then smashed it into a ball. To get rid of the thing I simply tossed it to the roof of a nearby building. I smiled at the thought of someone finding it in a few days and not being able to lift it. The cop car pulled up just as I tapped the two guys cheeks lightly with one finger, waking them up. “Evening, officer,” I said smiling at the handsome uniformed man. “Hello there, sir. Are you the one that called in a Code Humongous?” he asked in a deep, sexy voice. “That would be me,” I said, still smiling. “These, I assume, are our would-be bank robbers,” he said, looking down at the two goons who were finally fully conscious. “Officer . . . you have to help us. This guy is insane. He punched through a wall, he crushed our guns in his hands, and he ripped out a steel beam and then bent it like it was nothing! Get us away from him, please. Yes, we were trying to rob the bank! So, lock us up . . . lock us away so he can’t find us! Look what he did to our Hummer!” the goon yelled pointing to the crushed vehicle slammed into the wall of the bank. “I’d say it’s more like you two were driving a little recklessly,” the officer replied, looking over at the car. “What? How could we flatten a car and then slam its body into cement! Officer, you gotta believe us. He’s fucking Superman! Get us away from him!” the guy screamed. “Sure fellas, sure. And I’m Thor. You should see my hammer. Come on, let’s get moving,” said the officer as he put handcuffs on both goons, careful to not hurt the one with the obvious busted wrist. “So thanks you for your help, mister. I’m assuming by your outfit that you’re not going to want to give me a name and address so we can follow up, are you?” “I think it’s best if you just say you apprehended the two men, officer. Let’s not drag me into anything. I’d really appreciate it,” I said, smiling. “Sure thing, big guy. Again, thanks for your help,” the officer said over his shoulder as he led the two men away. It was a few hours later. The cute officer was walking towards the corner of the building on his way to the detached parking structure, but he couldn’t see me. I was hidden in an unlit entranceway to a nearby building. When he got close and was about to go around the corner I reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt and jacket. I yanked him off his feet, spun him around, and pushed him into the wall by pressing my body up against his. I was fully hard and I knew he felt it. I was breathing hard, too. “Thor? Really? I’d like to see your hammer, by the way,” I spat out softly through gritted teeth. “You see my hammer every night and morning . . . isn’t that enough?” he asked, pushing his ass against my hard-on. “Hell no . . . it’s never enough. Here, I’ve got something for you,” I said, slipping what was in my other hand into the front of his pants and underwear so it was against his hard cock. “It’s their revolvers . . . or what’s left of them. You should have seen their faces when I squeezed the shit out of steel guns. My cock’s been throbbing ever since.” “I can feel it throbbing now,” the police officer said, pressing his ass against my hardness. “Did you really need to damage the bank so much? And the Hummer?” “I did it because I knew you’d be the one watching the surveillance footage,” I said, rubbing my hard-on against his ass even harder. “I bet you have to pause it at least three times and make some quick trips to a bathroom stall at the station. Knowing I caused you to dump a few loads makes me happy . . . very happy.” “Those two would-be robbers kept talking about Superman and how this huge hulk of a man did things no one is able to do. All the other officers and prisoners thought they were bat-shit crazy or high as kites. Of course, it’s the third time this month that captured criminals have talked crazily about some huge man in his underwear…” the officer explained. “Posers!” I corrected. “Okay, skimpy-as-hell posers – anyway, it’s the third time people have been arrested and yammered on and on about some guy who ripped the roof off their car to snag them, held the back of their van up in the air with one hand while he flexed the other, or smashed their Hummer. I’m not sure the disbelief is going to continue if you keep showing off,” the officer said. “I can’t help it, officer. It’s the foreplay that builds up my super orgasm – which is always specifically planned for you. Want me to take my business somewhere else?” I said, toying with him. “There’d be consequences, big man . . . if you did that,” he responded as he moved his ass cheeks back and forth across my engorged cock, making me wish the material of his pants and my posers wasn’t there. “Oh yeah? What are you going to do, Captain? Shoot me? We both know I wouldn’t feel a thing. Are you going to run me down with your car? I still wouldn’t feel a thing. Are you going to hit me up the side of my face with your police baton? I’d snap it in two. How about telling the entire force to take me on – I’d plow through every last man with you watching them lose to my strength. Yeah, listen to you moan, officer. I never thought I’d meet someone so much more into muscle power than me. It’s like you’ve got an itch that can’t be scratched,” I pressed my entire huge body against his smaller frame and leaned my head near his so I could whisper in his ear. His face was turned sideways against the brick wall of the building he was compressed against. I brought my right hand up and put the tips of my fingers against the wall – so they were even with his gaze. I then pushed in. Funny thing about bricks and cement – they’re not as strong as one might think. The power behind my hand was just too much for the wall to withstand and my fingers started to poke through it as if it were made only of cardboard. The moans from the police officer became louder as he watched my fingers thrust into solid brick without only a slight shove. Soon, and with very little effort, my palm was against the wall and I had dug in completely. I squeezed the brick I had targeted and pulled – ripping it from the wall as if I were simply extracting some balled up socks from a drawer. The sight of the gaping hole in the wall made the officer moan even louder . . . and it made me press my cock against his ass even harder. I held the brick at eyesight and squeezed as slowly as I could. There was a loud cracking sound and then, suddenly, the brick started to fall apart and bits and pieces dropped to the ground. I continued to crush it into nothing but bits of sand and chunks of cement. “What wimpy things bricks are, don’t you think? I can crush them so easily. It’s amazing that buildings stay standing,” I teased as my hand continued to disintegrate the brick. “They can’t stand if you choose to bring them down,” the officer said, with so much adoration in his voice it made my heart beat faster. “That brick had no chance in hell to last against your power.” “Careful there, buddy. I’m a cannon about to explode and talk like that will definitely cause a huge eruption,” I warned, as the last bits of the now completely destroyed brick fell to the ground and I wiped my dusty hand on his dark uniform, as if to remind him what an alpha I was. “Punch through the wall completely. I want to see what those two guys got to see this evening. Show me how easy it is for you,” the officer ordered and begged at the same time. My cock jerked a few times in the crevice of his ass – like someone was trying to squeeze a giant sausage into a tiny hotdog bun. Slobber ran down the wall from the officer’s mouth – he had been unable to prevent himself from drooling as he watched me crush the brick. I brought a slight dust covered finger up to his mouth and he sucked on it enthusiastically for a few seconds. I thought about how I was helping him get his daily dose of iron. My other hand had slid into the front of his pants between his body and the wall. I was fondling his hard cock, slowly – squeezing it tightly every now and then to tease him with some power – loving how the crushed revolvers were still there. This caused his ass to jolt against my crotch in a very satisfying way. I pulled my finger from his mouth and made a fist with my huge hand. I pressed it against the wall, just above where I had so easily removed the brick. I pushed in, slightly, and we both loved watching cracks suddenly sprout out in all directions on the wall. “How big a hole you want, officer?” I said, making the bricks crack and pop as the cracks got bigger. “As big as you want, huge man,” he replied between heavy breaths – he was getting so turned on. “Let’s not make the building fall down, though . . . that would draw a little attention, don’t you think?” “Wise man. I could just shove the entire thing down a few feet . . . if you wanted me to,” I offered. “It’s connected to all the buildings on this side of the whole block,” the officer said. “So? That just means I’ll move the entire block over a few feet,” I replied . . . knowing he had known I could do it, but he wanted to hear me say it. “Moving twelve or thirteen buildings for you with a little shove would be hot . . . wouldn’t it?” “Everything you do is hot. I want a gaping hole, though,” he answered. “Destruction turns me on.” There it was . . . our little sexual fetish that had united us for an eternity. The officer and I blew our biggest wads when my monstrous arms and big body destroyed something. Yeah, it was fun to lift something . . . or prevent a gunning car from moving with one hand . . . or toss something really heavy miles away . . . but it was when my hands crushed solid brick, bent steal, or ripped apart machinery that we both got over-the-top crazy with excitement. It’s what gave us both super orgasms – me proving things weren’t indestructible. Before he’d been made captain of the force he’d come upon me taking on a gang of fifty guys that had been terrorizing part of our town for a year or so. I had read about all the crime they had been doing and just decided one night that they should be taught a lesson. It turned out my little officer has been watching the gang for a while, too . . . trying to figure out a weakness. It turns out I was what made them weak. He had watched that night as I took on fifty men with weapons like a kid tossing his stuffed animals around the room. Bullets bounced off my mostly naked body, knives bent or broke when thrust into my impenetrable skin, guys were thrown into walls yards away, and I even grabbed the blade of a roaring chainsaw to bend it and rip it from the roaring machine’s body. He told me he came three times while watching me take care of fifty gangsters as if I were merely playing with dolls. I saw the caked mess at his crotch to prove it, too. There, amongst fifty unconscious men tossed in a pile, this revved up officer had ordered me to rip out a huge lamppost from the ground and bend it into something resembling a pretzel. He made me rip apart a car with my bare hands. If one of the guys started to stir he simply told me to thump them hard with my finger to put them to sleep again. I was so blown away by this guy’s insatiable thirst for me showing off my strength that I obeyed his every command like I was his devoted servant. He made me toss him in the air, higher than the buildings around us, and catch him as he came back down. He made me rip out huge chunks of sidewalk and then crush it in my hands. I was so turned on by his need for my strength that I edged myself the entire night – withholding my orgasm until the sun was about to come up. After he ordered me to lift the fifty men and dump them in an empty container nearby, he had me secure the doors to the thing by wrapping the base of a parking meter I had ripped out the ground through the handles. He said he’d have someone at the station saw it off after I carried the container across town. Just before dawn he thanked me for giving him the night of his life. He then told me it was time for me to show my full power. He walked over to me and pulled down my posers, revealing the huge thing that was already quite obvious even through the material. He tugged on the huge thing a few times and pulled it down to watch it go slapping up against my abs again. He then turned me toward the wall of a big warehouse on the other side of the big lot we had been playing in. He reached over and did his best to try and grab my big balls as he instructed me to point my huge cock towards the building. He then ordered me to cum . . . yep, he simply said the word in a commanding tone and my jacked-to-the-max cock blasted so hard it took out most of the wall. The officer had known this would happen. He knew the strength of my orgasms without me even telling him. He squeezed my balls as hard as he could – me barely feeling it, but loving it anyway – until my rod was only dripping big drops of thick cum to the ground. He took a few minutes to go over and look at the destruction my ejaculation had done – unzipping his pants and beating off in front of me as he did. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. He then told me to lift him on top of the container and carry the thing to the station. I did what he ordered without any question. He said I also needed to put his car on top of the container so he wouldn’t have to come back for it. The way he just knew what I was capable of . . . and how he clearly loved every second of me doing something like picking up a car . . . was so new to me – so thrilling. He said we had to hurry because we needed the darkness to hide us. He guided me down alleys and back roads so the only people to see us were early morning drunks that no one would believe them when they reported what they saw. He was like a kid, kicking his feet back and forth on the side of the container as I carried it to the station. Once I had the thing situated in the parking lot and I had returned him and his car to the ground, he ordered me to kiss him. Ordered me! And I obeyed! The sun crept over the horizon just as we pulled out faces apart. He was the most gorgeous, sexiest, hunkiest thing I had ever seen. He groped my still-hard cock through my posers for a few seconds and then told me I’d better get going since he wasn’t sharing me with anyone else. Those words pounded in my heart all the way home. I had fallen head-over-heels in love with a police officer who clearly got off on strength as much as I did . . . even more, probably. I knew I needed rest, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Now we shared a huge warehouse apartment full of things that I could bend, tear apart, and lift to make him happy. He had also taught me how to control my super orgasms so they wouldn’t always take out buildings . . . unless we wanted them to. His thirst for my strength was endless and it didn’t matter how simple it was – twisting a giant wrench for the thousandth time or how huge – folding up a Honda Civic like it was a t-shirt that needed to be put away. He could still make me ejaculate on command and I enjoyed making him have to wash his uniform every single day – sometimes even more than once – because I’d surprise him with some strength feat before he had time to undress. When he had been made captain he was able to establish ‘Code Humongous’ where he was the only one to respond, since it was always me delivering criminals and showing off my strength. We were both now living the best life ever. “God, I wish you could have seen me demolish that Hummer. You would have especially loved when I ripped off the wheels with one hand,” I said, knowing it would drive him crazy. “Punch the damn wall, big man. Now!” he ordered, needing release in a big way. I always did what he said. It was just one of the most satisfying things I’d ever felt in my entire life – to follow his order . . . to please him . . . to know whatever I was doing would always make him want more. He was so fucking addicted to my power and I was so addicted to him. It was love – and we both knew it – but it was so much hotter to refer to it as his need for super strength and my ability to offer it. He wasn’t ever going to tire of me showing off and I wasn’t ever going to tire of making him happy. Shove a whole block of buildings, punch through a wall, take on an entire army of men at one time . . . all he had to do was ask, no – order me to do it and I would. I brought my arm back and sent it flying through the bricks, easily busting out a huge hole and bringing us both super orgasms at the same time.

Six Months “How are you feeling today?” “My upper body is sore all over, sir.” One side of his mustached mouth curled upward in a half smile – a dimple appearing in his left cheek. The elder muscleman sitting on the edge of the bed liked it when I showed my respect. He had to remind me often not to say ‘sir’ too much when we were in public places because it tended to make him leak thick droplets of pre-cum, which produced wet stains at his crotch. That thought made me want to say it as often as I could. I glanced at his boxers and saw that they were, indeed, tented. His big palm roughly latched onto my right pec and squeezed – causing me to wince from the sore muscles underneath my skin. “Yeah, you’re getting firmer in the chest. You worked hard yesterday, pup. I’m proud of you.” “I just want to make you happy sir.” “Better be careful, there – hearing ‘sir’ too many times could easily send me over the edge. I might have to flip you on your belly and have my way with you.” “Yes sir. Please sir. Anything you say, sir.” A minute later I was moaning loudly as my body was pounded hard into the mattress below – my face plastered into the pillow. The moans were partly from being fucked and partly from the intense soreness I felt all over my upper body. Uncontrollably, I now associated the feeling of being filled to the edge of discomfort by a thick hard cock with the same intense desire that came when the older man encouraged me to finish an exhausting set of reps at the gym. It had gotten so bad that I often was fully hard by the time he brusquely counted down the twelfth lift like a high school football coach. I was like Pavlov’s dog – picking up a dumbbell made my ass immediately tighten with anticipation. I reveled in the fact that my big man was good on his word as his big body smothered me against the bed while he breathed heavily – having ejaculated what felt like a keg-full of cum into my chute. My body was on fire with desire as fur scraped across different parts of my body as the man heaved up and down – against my legs, against my back, and against my neck. I hardened even more as I thought about the salt and pepper thick hair that grew perfectly all over his body. He always left his hard cock speared in my ass – just to show me how long it took for him to go flaccid. His testosterone had to be off the charts – a huge part of it now seeping into my body after being filled by his honey-thick juice. “I warned you, pup.” “You say that like you think what just happened was a punishment for me, sir. I think you know how much I wanted it. “Your turn.” I felt his calloused palm slide between the mattress and my body. His big hand wrapped around my hard cock and with three manly tugs he had me spewing like an untapped water pipe. I let out a loud gasp as my warm juice spewed forth, quickly gluing my stomach to the bedsheet. Even if I had wanted to resist orgasming, it wouldn’t have been possible. My body reacted to this man’s wants and commands whether they were verbal or physical. He played me like some virtuoso violinist – causing me to always cum - hard and quickly. I was helpless when it came to him. “Tomorrow’s leg day. I’m going to push you so hard, boy, I’ll have to carry you home.” My cock tried desperately to spurt more cum at his words, but I was totally spent. I knew that, like the way a strong wind could precede a storm, his words were a warning that he would work me until my calves and thighs were like jelly. There had been a few leg days where he did, indeed, throw me over a shoulder and carried me the three blocks to his brownstone. The big man slid off of me, so he was lying face down beside me on the bed. We were staring at each other – his sky-blue eyes with three wrinkles spiking out from the sides – and he reached over to grab my left triceps. He squeezed his thumb and fingers tightly and I let out a yelp from how quickly he found more soreness in my body. “Yeah, you’re arms are getting tighter. The pain means you’re doing the exercises right, pup. We’re fucking growing you, boy. It’s going to take a while, but I’m going to grow you into my own little muscle monster. I’m going to create you in my own image.” My balls tightened at that thought and I sensed my cock somehow finding a dribble of semen to release . . . from somewhere deep inside. He often made me sit in his lap as he tightened his pecs or flexed his biceps and told me that one day I’d look like him. I would actually salivate when I took a gander at his enormous arm – seriously doubting there was any possible way I could ever be as big as him. I couldn’t tell if the pain I was feeling was from his strong grip or the soreness from lifting, but either way it felt awesome. I had never thought about growing big . . . getting huge muscles . . . but now I saw myself reflected in his eyes. I felt how much his enormous body turned me on. And I knew that I wanted that too . . . not just for me, but for him, as well. He released the clamped hand on my arm and moved his big palm to my ass. The way he patted my cheeks made it clear that he claimed my ass. It was his. He certainly got no objections from me. I wanted to be his. I wanted him to transform me into something that resembled him. I wanted to stretch clothes to the point of ripping. I wanted people coming towards me on the sidewalk to spread apart to give me a wide berth – both because I was big and because they were just a little scared of me. I watched it happen to my big man all the time. A thick finger roughly invaded my hole and I gasped. “Pup, your glutes are growing the fastest and we are barely doing any exercises specifically for them. It’s the fucking. One plowing from me is like a week’s worth of squats. Man, I love your ass.” It was true. I had trouble pulling jeans on now. It was hard to get them over my bubbled butt. I could almost feel how much my ass grew after every pounding from the big man. And my glutes were always so fucking sore. Being butt-plugged by his enormous cock felt almost as good as when I pushed up a loaded bar for the umpteenth time and made my elder muscleman beam with pride. Again, there was almost no difference from pumping iron or being pumped by his piece of iron – both made me horny as hell and ready for a massive ejaculation. The finger pushed deep into my chute and made me tighten my cheeks with all my might – causing the big man to chuckle in appreciation. He brought his face closer to mine. I smelled the mixture of coffee and mouthwash. There was the dimple and the half-smile. “I’m going to make you massive, pup.”

WARNING: This story contains scenes of a violent nature. Some readers may find these scenes offensive. Please do not read on if you feel like this applies to you. The air felt nice on Victor’s beautiful face as he flew across through the air, thousands of feet above the city streets. Below him, thousands of tiny humans went about their days, limited in their capabilities by their feeble strength and lack of true power. Today, however, most of them were distracted by the breaking news bulletins on their phones and tablets. Just a few blocks away a bank was under siege by armed gunmen. Don’t worry little insects, thought Victor. Captain Unstoppable is on his way. Victor finally came to a halt above the city’s most illustrious bank; faux golden columns and regal-like architecture. Impressive. Though, not as impressive as the god-like being that floated silently in mid-air, looking down upon the frantic scene that was unfolding before him. Still floating high above the scene, Victor began to scan the whole area with his eyes. His x-ray vision, microscopic vision, and telescopic vision all working in unison to meticulously detail the entire building and its internal layout; all in the space of just a few seconds. Now Victor new everything there was to know about the situation at hand. There were ten armed men inside the bank, and about two dozen hostages. There will soon be just the hostages, thought Victor. His excitement was increasing. The prospect of laying waste to a couple of humans always made his body tingle with anticipation. It…aroused him. Instead of descending down to the police blockade that surrounded the bank, Victor simply flew a full speed towards the building’s uppermost floor. His indestructible body smashed right through the wall of an upstairs corridor. Of course, he felt absolutely no pain or discomfort in doing so. Even his arms, exposed by the short sleeves of his t-shirt, incurred no injuries whatsoever. Instead of walking, Victor chose instead to hover his way down the corridor. Doing so always made him appear godlier. Being 7 ft. helped as well, of course. Thanks to his x-ray vision, Victor could tell that his first two targets were in the opposite side of nearby door. Upon reaching this door, Victor reached forward, but not for the handle. Instead his fingers effortlessly penetrated the upper midsection of the door. For him it was like poking your fingers through tissue paper. He then gripped down on the hole he had made, and simply tore the door off of its hinges. He tossed it aside where it smashed to pieces against the wall. “What the fuck?!” began one of the criminals, turning around upon hearing the sound of the door’s destruction. “Oh shit!” cried his partner, catching sight of Victor. “It’s him. It’s Unstoppable!” Both men raised their rifles and began unloading their ammo on Victor. Despite knowing full well who he was, Victor was nonetheless amused by their efforts to harm him. Victor closed his eyes to fully enjoy the feel of dozens and dozens of bullets impacting him on his thick, meaty, square pecs; his solid and chiselled eight-pack abs; and on his pristine face, complete with its astoundingly angular jawline. For him, the hail of bullets felt more like a pleasant massage. Each one imparting a nice, soothing touch before ricocheting off in some random direction. The sight of his bodybuilder physique being bombard with bullets, complemented by the fact that he was still hovering a few inches off the ground, really hit home the reality that Victor was not human. He was so much more. Eventually the two goons used up their current magazines, and frantically tried to reload. Now it’s time to play, thought Victor, a wicked smile spreading across his face. Victor finally set himself down on the floor, and he walked slowly but purposefully towards the two men. As he drew closer, the size difference between Victor and these endangered idiots only became more and more pronounced. Both men slowly stopped trying to reload their weapons, and instead looked up at Victor and his incredible body. Men often looked upon Victor with a mix of lust, envy, and fear. Victor did have the perfect male body after all. Victor could hear their tiny hearts beating like war drums, and his godly eyes could trace the beads of sweat that were forming on their brows. For a moment, Victor simply stood there, looking down upon the comparatively shorter men, both of whom were also just standing there looking up at Victor. Well…trying to look at him. In reality they were distracted by his pecs, traps, shoulders, and even his neck muscles. “We…we…*gulp*…we have orders to kill the hostages if…if you…if there was” stuttered on of the men, shaking as his admittedly impressive body suddenly seemed so pathetic in the presence of Victor’s. He was the first to die. Victor gently placed one of his large, muscular, and vascular hands on the side of the man’s head. For a moment Victor simply caressed the man’s scalp with his fingers and his cheek with his thumb, marvelling at how much of the humans head his hand fit around. Of course the human fell for it, initially believing that Victor had taken a sexual liking to him. He closed his eyes and breathed more loudly as his whole body was stimulated by the arousing feel of Victors touch (and the god’s scent). Victor then moved his hand gently to the top of the man’s head, still caressing him in a tender manner. The man opened his eyes and looked up at Victor. Victor smiled down at him, more amused by how the man now looked relaxed, incorrectly believing that this powerful being was friendly and loving. Victor closed his fist, and popped the fool’s head like a grape. “What the fuck?!” screamed the other man, backing away as fast as he could. The headless corpse continued standing for a few seconds before keeling over onto the floor. Blood rapidly pooled around its upper half. Victor looked down at his hand, observing the fleshy bits that were still stuck to it. A quick burst of heat vision cleaned that right up, vaporising all human remains yet leaving Victor’s hand completely unscathed. “Oh no, oh no, oh no no no. Oh god please! NO!” screamed the other man, who was now trapped in a corner of the room. Victor’s superhuman sense of smell easily detected the urine that soaked the man’s pants. The man had now fallen to his knees, looking across the room at the god and the dead human that lay on the ground before him. Tears streaked silently down his face. “Please don’t kill me”, he said, in almost hushed tones. Victor approached the man, who had begun cowering and whimpering even louder at the sight of this being approaching him. Filled with a sudden curiosity, Victor lifted the bottom of his t-shirt up, revealing his breathtakingly beautiful eight-pack. Each ab was such a clear and pronounce bump, almost like a line of diamond-hard cobblestones. The groves and cuts between them just as clearly visible. The muscle group as a whole expanded and contracted subtly with each perfectly calm breath Victor took. The crying man quickly fell silent. The sight of Victor’s abs aroused him to the point of temporarily off-setting his terror. While the man was enjoying the best (and last) view he’d ever seen, Victor was effortlessly probing the man’s mind with his telepathy. Just as I suspected, thought Victor, as he was treated to grotesque images of murder, rape, and violent assault. The pathetic bag of meat and brittle bones before him the perpetrator in them all. Victor dropped his shirt, covering up the masterpiece that was his muscled stomach. In doing so, the insect was no longer distracted, and once again fully aware of the situation. He looked up at Victor in time to see the god’s eyes glowing red. A split second later and the man was nothing more than a pile of ash. His scream echoed for a few more seconds. Not bothering with taking it slow any longer, as he was now fully aroused, Victor lifted off from the ground and plough through the walls and floors of the bank. Steel and concrete gave way to him as easily as the air did. Guided by his x-ray vision, Victor soon burst upwards through a ceiling, and found himself floating before another one of the criminals. Before this weakling could say anything, Victor grabbed him by the throat and raised him up into the air, and above his own head. The man’s feet were left dangling a considerable height above the floor. Victor himself was standing, not floating. As the man clawed in vain at Victor’s hand and thick, vascular, powerful forearm (with just a light dusting of hair), Victor himself admired the man. He was actually handsome. Dark eyes and a thick, dark beard made him very rugged. Plus, not a bad physique. A quick scan revealed to Victor the presence of a six-pack and some very nice quads. Shame, thought Victor, as he flicked his wrist. The man’s next snapped instantly, and the corpse was now dangling limply from Victor’s grasp. He dropped in unceremoniously to the floor, and carried on. For the next man, Victor took his little head and smashed it against the most bulbous and immaculately sculpted pecs you have ever scene. Goon number five was punched in the stomach by Victor, and thus reduced to paste. Six and seven were encased in ice, courtesy of Victor’s frosty breath. Although they were now dead, since humans can’t survive in temperatures that cold, Victor still decided to take it one step further. With a click of his fingers, Victor unleashed a sound wave powerful enough to shatter both the frozen bodies, and any glass in the room, to pieces. Number eight was taken into Victor’s strong arms. For a minute, the little man was allowed to feel Victor’s extraordinary biceps, triceps, and shoulders. All three muscle groups felt like cannonballs. Well, Victor’s biceps and shoulders felt like and looked like cannonballs. His triceps felt more like a bag of cement that was as full as it could be. Just as solid, but different in shape. Regardless, this didn’t stop the little human from kissing and licking them all with passion. Once Victor had decided the little human had had enough fun, Victor hugged the man. And then kept hugging him. First the man’s spine snapped. Then his lungs and stomach burst. Then all the blood in his body was being forced out towards the extremities. It leaked out of his mouth and nose, as his empty eyes stared upwards. Tossing victim number eight over his shoulder, Victor silently floated upwards a few inches, and then dove straight into the floor, smashing right down into the bank’s basement. The leader of the bandits, and the last of his henchmen, were standing right in front of the vault. They had been trying unsuccessfully to open the vault. Victor put on a calm and friendly smile, and began walking towards them. At last, he spoke. “Need a hand?” he asked, with a grin. Both of the frail humans were just staring in disbelief as Victor casually strolled up to, and then past them. Much like the door earlier, Victor reaching forward and simply sank his fingers in some random part of the vault’s titanium door. Like a hot knife through butter, Victor’s fingers sank in…deep. Despite it being no effort whatsoever, Victor’s arm still flared as if it was putting strain on him. His bicep exploded with power, and a single, massive, cable-like vain ran across the beautiful dome as it rose up to its fullest height. His forearm looked like a roadmap. And was about four times that size of a normal man’s forearm. And then, as easily as one would open a book, Victor ripped the vault door out and away from its hinges. But instead of throwing it, he simply held it above his head. He turned to face the men, supporting the vault door with just one arm; the same one that had dislodged it. Victor felt no difficulty at all. For him, it was like holding a light umbrella. He looked at the two men, who were both staring at his arm and the vault door in awe. “How could any human think they stand a chance against me”, said the violent superhero. With a flick of a finger he tossed the vault door over towards the two men. They were so enthralled by the display of strength that they forgot to scream. The room shook as the vault door landed, cracking the concrete floor and flattening the two criminals. Using just a finger, Victor pressed it into the side of the vault door like you would press your finger into playdough, and lifted one side of the multi-tonne vault door up to about the height of his waist. He leaned over to peek underneath it, just to confirm that the last two lawbreakers were indeed nothing more than crimson slush. Of course they are, he thought, and chuckled. Flying to where the hostages were being held, Victor used his laser vision to cut a precise opening in the room where they were trapped. The innocent humans (the kind that Victor would never hurt) poured out into the main hall, surrounding him and singing his praises. Both the men and the women alike all reached out their hands in the hope of groping some part of his incredible, muscle-bound body. Victor obliged them for a few minutes, putting on an impromptu posing showing, though he chose to keep his shirt, jeans, and hiking boots on. Once an overly eager bank teller got one last chance to feel one of Victor’s biceps, this supreme being rose up into the air and flew out through one of the holes he had made earlier. Crowds of onlookers, news reporters, and emergency services applauded Victor as he emerged. “Mr Unstoppable, we can’t thank you enough” said Police Chief Martin Stewards. The chief watched as Victor descended down to him, trying not to be distracted at how easy it was for Victor to appear god-like. “My pleasure, as always chief” said Victor, landing gently in front of the chief. Even with an enviable height of 6ft 2, the chief still had to look up at Victor. “I take it all perpetrators are…no longer with us?” asked the chief, one eyebrow raised. He always tolerated Victor’s approach to crime. “I scanned all of their minds to confirm that they were deserving of it. Most of them though aren’t…whole” replied Victor, smiling down at the chief. Victor had always like the man. “And collateral damage?” asked the chief. “Nothing insurance can’t handle” said Victor, delighted that his comment elicited a chuckle from the chief. “Whoa hold on now” said the chief. Victor had started to float upwards but stopped mid-air and looked back down at the chief with curiosity. “Come on, back down here please” said the chief, beckoning Victor with his finger. Victor obliged. Despite having just snuffed out the lives of ten measly humans, Victor did not consider good people and their requests to be beneath him. Victor once again landed before the chief. The chief took a moment to look around him at his fellow police who were now tending to the scene and to the hostages. He then turned his attention back to Victor. “God damn” said the chief to himself, leaving out a low whistle. He raised his arm and poked Victor’s left pec a few times. Victor smile incredulously, rolling his eyes. He had assumed that the chief called him back for something important. The chief poked a few more times, unable to make even the slights of dents in Victor’s chest muscles. “Alright, you’re dismissed” said the chief, taking one last look at Victor’s magnificent chest. “Have a good one chief” said Victor, as he flew straight up a few hundred feet, and the shot forward at incredible speeds. The chief watched his departure, while tucking his erection into the elastic waist of his underwear. “God damn” he whispered again, with another chuckle.