Popular Post MuscleLvr321 Posted September 25, 2020 Popular Post Share Posted September 25, 2020 The sun shone through my bedroom window, illuminating everything in its path in a warm, yellow glow. The rays bathed my bed, and me along with it. The sudden pleasure of warm sunlight slowly and peacefully woke me up. A smile grew on my face; another day of being perfect. I stretched with a sense of pleasure and satisfaction as my incredible, chiselled physique was warmed by the sun’s light. It was for exactly this reason that I did away with any sheet or quilt. I wanted to be woken like this; by the sun that made my Adonis body shine. First, my feet. Size fifteens. And if they give you any idea of the rest of me, they were both beautiful and powerful looking. The tendons themselves looking like machine parts, rather than human parts. Next, my calves. Twin diamond-shaped, diamond-hard beauties. Each one too big for a normal man’s hand to full engulf. Whenever I walked they bunched, hardened, and flexed. My quads are up next. Massive. Powerful. Godly. The ripples of the muscles, and the ridges that ran through and around them. Complimented by a network of veins that looked like lightning bolts, some of which faded down into my lower legs and calves. Above these tree-trunk sized miracles was my remarkably narrow waist. Narrow in comparison to the rest of me, that is. Currently resting on one side of my waist were all seven inches of my flaccid manhood. And trust me, when I wanted, I could give way more inches than that. Just above this intimidating python was what could be mistaken as a cobblestone pathway. On second glance, you would clearly see that it was just an insanely defined, flawless eight-pack. Each ab a clear dome, separated by all others by deep cuts that could each easily hold a bit water. And that was before I tensed or flexed. Flanking these eight rocks were some more-than-impressive obliques. Wave-like muscles that, like the quads, rippled dutifully. It was as if they wanted me to look more beautiful than I already was. Above my abs were the two reasons why I couldn’t see my abs. Two almost square-like slabs of what felt like titanium. And yet, I could bounce and jiggle both as if they were made of a softer clay. Better known as my pecs, these bulbous, meaty marvels were kept apart by a narrow crevasse that ran between them. On either side of these two steel-hard pieces of beef were my boulder shoulders. Like my calves, no normal man could ever hope to fit a whole hand around one. Too big, too muscular, too vascular. Hanging from them were they most powerful, strongest pair of arms you’ll ever see. Biceps that formed into perfect peaks that rivalled cement in terms of solidity, followed my forearms that exuded strength, and ending with a pair of hands that could easily fit around my calves and shoulder. And don’t forget the criss-cross of veins that mapped my forearms, and that one delicious vein that runs down each bicep. The one that every gym rat longs to see; the definitive proof that one has achieved muscle. I roll over onto my front so that the opposite side of me can enjoy some few minutes of warmth before I get up. My expansive, rippling back swells in delight at the feel of the warmth. My back alone is literally heavier than most average men. My triceps, second only to my biceps, both unleash a powerful flex as they help me turn over. And finally my ass. The two delectable globes of prime beef. Just like my pecs, I could bounce them with ease, and on a moment’s notice. Once I decided that I was adequately warmed up, I rolled back over and got out of them bed. All seven feet of my rose to my full height. Aside from the lush locks that flowed from scalp, and the uber-masculine stubble that coated my gorgeous face, I was completely hairless. All of my godly definition was as clear as the day outside. Plus, not a single blemish. Ever. I didn’t get them. Already my seven inches were approaching nine as I flexed my body, and took the time to feel myself up. Hard, sold, powerful, strong. I had great genetics. And I haven’t even told you about my strength yet. I threw on a pair of red boxer shorts that were stretched thin over my quads (despite being the largest size the store had to offer). My heavy footsteps resonated as I marched with a sense of power and authority from my room to the kitchen. My muscles all the while flexing, tensing, bunching. You would not want to be in my way! “Moring pops”, I say as I entered the kitchen and saw that he was already making me breakfast. Poor Dad. I guess genetics have a way of skipping generations. “Morning big buddy!” said my dad, genuinely excited and thrilled to see me. And even more thrilled to see me in just boxer shorts. Dad was a normal man. Little to no obvious muscle, balding, a bit of a flabby beer belly, the makings to a double chin, and a body with hair and blemishes. But a kind heart, and all the love a dad had for his son. He himself was wearing just a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, both of which were noticeably loose on him. I approached him, took a handful of the back of his shirt collar, and smoothly lifted him off the ground until his bare feet were left dangling over a foot off the ground. Dad was 5’10’’, and about 150 pounds. But to me, that was nothing. He might as well have been ten times that weight, and I still wouldn’t have noticed. I gave him a kiss on his head. “Pancakes?! Fuckin’ A old timer!” I said gleefully, eyeing the mountain of pancakes that Dad had made specifically for me. I ate like a dozen horses after all. “My big man needs to eat” he said, looking on at my perfect, angular face with pride in his eyes. Of course he was still dangling in my grasp. He casually swung his legs back and forth a small bit as I surveyed the pancakes, enjoying the feel of being held off the ground. “I’ll take all of those” I said, gesturing to at least ninety percent of the pancakes, “You’ll have whatever is left”. “Yes son” said Dad. Dad always did what I said. Like I good beta, he knew who the alpha was. I set him gently back down onto the floor. Not because my arm was getting tired, but because I wanted him to get back to work. “You’re looking especially amazing today son” he said, tracing his fingers over my steel abs. I didn’t need to tense them. Even in their un-tensed state Dad didn’t have a hope of denting them. His fingers, to me, felt so small and fragile. I smiled down at him, as I towered above him. “I’m guessing there’s something you want” I said, smiling wryly at him. “Eh…I’d like to buy some new clothes…” he said, nervously looking up at me, a hopeful and bashful grin on his face. I controlled the finances, even though Dad was the one with a job. “Go on” I said, crossing my arms. In doing so, my spectacular pecs ballooned into two globes of pure power, while my forearms flare in terms of both muscle and veins. For good measure I flexed my legs too, just to complete the image of the god looking down upon the weak man. “Just some new jeans and a scarf. October is just around the corner...don’t wanna be cold now, do I…” he said, looking a little more nervous by the sight of my stance. He knew of course that I would never hurt him, but it was still fun to laud some power over him. “As long as you don’t spend more than a hundred. I want more food in this house before the end of the week” I said, patting Dad affectionately on the head. “Yes!” exclaimed Dad triumphantly, “Absolutely son, no more than a hundred”. After I consumed my feast of a breakfast at an alarming rate, I headed out into the back garden for some early morning light exercise while Dad got to the cleaning. I approached a beaten down looking SUV. No bothering to stretch (because I didn’t need to), I squatted down, grabbed the SUV at two points along its underside, and stood back up. The entire vehicle came with me. I began to curl the SUV like it was nothing more than a fifty bound barbell. I was only doing this just for the sake of waking my body up. I actually began to daydream a small bit as I effortlessly pumped the vehicle up and down. It used to belong to Dad, before he got a new one. He was more than happy to let me have it. After a few minutes of this, I dropped the SUV with a bang. I sighed as I looked down at it, bored by its inability to stimulate my imagination. However, my arms had flared up with an almost inhuman pump. Thanks to my genetics, only the smallest amount of exercise was necessary for me to maintain by perfect physiques, and the superhuman strength that lay within. Out of sheer boredom I began to poke holes in the SUV’s exterior with just my index finger. I did find it satisfying to watch my finger sink in and out of the metal like it was a hot knife carving through butter. At one point I simply grabbed a handful of a door and easily tore it off the vehicle completely. I amused myself as I mangled and deformed the lump of metal in my hand, like an infant would manipulate playdough. “Looking good Jake!” called out a voice from behind me. I turned to see Mr. Roberts standing on his side of the fence that separated my house’s garden from his. Mr. Roberts was an elderly, kind man who had lived next door all my life. He had watched me grow, and always took the time to compliment me on my body and strength. “Hi Mr. Roberts” I said as I swaggered my way over to them fence. I made sure to flex my muscles as I walked, just to demonstrate the level of power that was approaching him. Not to mention that fact that I was still crushing and mangling the metal lump in my hand like a stress ball. “Well look at you!” said Mr. Roberts as he surveyed my glorious body. I was still only wearing my boxers, so pretty much everything could be easily seen. “Yeah, just doing a bit of weight training” I said, and started bouncing my pecs as I looked down at them. Instead of a light jiggle, I opted for a more vigorous bounce. It always amazed even me how still the rest of my body was as my pecs danced. “Stunning” whispered Mr. Roberts in a reverent tone as he reached over the fence to place one of his small, feeble hands on the nearest pec. He had always loved the smoothness of my muscles. And I never had a problem with him feeling any damn part of me that he wanted. “So how are you this morning, Mr. Roberts?” I asked, striking a front lat spread for his entertainment. “Good” he said as he ran his fingers along one of my biceps. I switched to a most muscular to help accommodate his desire to worship my arms. “But I was hoping that you’d be available to help me with something” he said, as he placed his hand in mine. Mr. Roberts always enjoyed holding my hand, probably because they were so warm, and he was more vulnerable to the cold. “Sure” I said, closing my whole hand around his gently, running my thumb lightly over the back. “I was hoping you could turn my car around for me. In my old age I’ve become…less able for precise reversing” he said, and we both laughed. From a standing position, I bent my knees, flexed both my quads and calves, and cleared the four-foot fence in a single bound, landing perfectly on the other side beside Mr. Roberts. “Goodness me!” he said, beaming at my display of athleticism, and delighted that I was now that bit closer to him. I took his hand gently in mine, and allowed him to lead me to his car that was parked at the side of his house. I couldn’t help but notice just how small and weak he was. He was short than Dad, and no doubt frail from old age. We were walking so slowly because of him. “Here Mr. Roberts” I said, as I effortlessly scooped the man up into one of my arms. He gasped as my casual display of strength. “Save your energy” I said, as I nestled him into my powerful chest. “Thank you Jake” he said with a tone of sincerity, and began to run a hand over my pecs once again. Once we got to his car, I gently set him down and gave him a quick hug, enveloping him in my powerful arms (which he happily felt up during the hug). “Now then” I said. I approached the car and promptly hauled the front half off the ground with a single tug of my left arm. I could hear Mr. Roberts gasp again behind me. I walked my hand along the bottom of the vehicle, slowly raising the back half, until the entire thing was above my head. A quick one-eighty degree turn, and it was facing the way Mr. Roberts wanted it to be. I easily and gently place the car back on the ground. Mr. Roberts was standing there, slack-jawed from the sight of my superhuman strength. Not to mention that his pants was tenting; impressive for a man of his age. I decided to help him out. Side-chest. Double biceps. Front lat spread followed by a back lat spread. Another pec bounce. Every single bit of exquisite curvature and masculine sex appeal my body had to offer I put in display for Mr. Roberts. My muscles flared and flexed with power and beauty. I turned my back to him and began twerking. My bulbous glutes bounced sensually. Not even my skin-tight boxers could hold them down. I ended the routine with another side chest. I then marched towards Mr. Roberts with supreme confidence. Mr. Roberts was shaking, still slack-jawed, and in awe of my appearance. He was leaving out this low, continuous moaning sound. I placed my large hands on his scrawny shoulders. I leaned in and whispered in his ear. “Cum for me”. Mr. Roberts let out a moan of ecstasy as a large, dark wet patch appeared at the front of his trousers. I fell forward into my arms which easily supported him. By the sounds (and feel) of it, he was experiencing multiple orgasms. I carried his limp and exhausted body into his house, and laid him down gently onto his living room sofa. His feeble hands took one last feel of my muscles (my shoulders and triceps to be exact) before he finally passed out, and began to sleep peacefully. His trousers were completely soaked. I left his house and headed back towards the SUV, leaping over the fence once again. Damn it felt good to have great genetics. 52 4 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ZFerrari Posted September 25, 2020 Share Posted September 25, 2020 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
photoguy Posted September 25, 2020 Share Posted September 25, 2020 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
OldFashioned Posted September 26, 2020 Share Posted September 26, 2020 Fucking hot Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
londonboy Posted September 26, 2020 Share Posted September 26, 2020 Thank you, very much. Of course . . . more, please. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lukullus Posted September 26, 2020 Share Posted September 26, 2020 Oh yeah!!!! We really need a LOT more!!!! 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
iceman751 Posted September 26, 2020 Share Posted September 26, 2020 Man, I haven't read a story that hot in a long time, it just has all of the things that I love reading in stories, incredible strength, intricate muscle description, and the lead character knowing how great he is and showing it off as much as he possibly can. I hope to see more soon! 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
photoguy Posted September 26, 2020 Share Posted September 26, 2020 Fucking hot. Keep it up! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest Posted September 26, 2020 Share Posted September 26, 2020 The effortless superiority and perfection... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
OldFashioned Posted September 26, 2020 Share Posted September 26, 2020 12 hours ago, Lukullus said: Oh yeah!!!! We really need a LOT more!!!! Seconded! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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