The Party

This week another story fragment, a beginning that may go no where. Anyone remember the 1968 comedy The Party (Blake Edwards, Peter Sellers). This one is nothing like that, although I suppose I could take my cue from that movie and end the story with an elephant being shampooed in the swimming pool.

The Party

Boston slipped the Navigator into Park and dropped his 27 inch arm on my insanely wide shoulders. "Chad, now you know it don't matter what we get into here. All the muscle and dick in the world don't change how I feel about you."

I looked him the eyes, smiled and kissed him. It was "the talk", the same one he always gave when we went out where he knew we'd end up fucking around. Since we'd both gone through the transformation and become Studio Men, I'd long since stopped being jealous. In fact I looked forward to strange dick as much as he did, but the fact that he gave me "the talk" was still sweet.

Boston stared into my eyes like I was the only other man in the world. His thick lips parted. He grazed his bottom lip against my top lip. My mouth opened and Boston sucked my tongue into his mouth. He fingered my nipples and grabbed my long, stiff dick through my pants. I unbuttoned and unzipped. He maneuvered my huge dick into the open and sucked it down.

This too, was a ritual as regular as "the talk". A quickie in the car to take the edge off my desire and prove his affection. Normally he'd suck me slow, keeping me from cumming until I was so hot and horny it felt like my dick was about to burst, but in the car he kept it quick, sucking hard and deep and lapping the whole length of my dick with his tongue on every bob of his head until I blasted my hot, steamy load down his muscular throat.

Boston let my glistening cock fall free. He licked the cum from his lips and grinned. We kissed deeply one last time. I tasted my sperm in his mouth. Then before we had even broken our kiss he had opened the driver side door. His head turned away and he dropped athletically to the pavement. I smiled at his eagerness, knowing he'd kept himself from coming as he sucked me because he wanted to keep his edge. He'd scout out some fresh ass in a corner somewhere in the first five minutes and hump it hard while he thought about my cock cumming inside his mouth.

Boston was already heading up the walk to the mansion's entrance before I had closed the passenger door. I enjoyed seeing him from behind. His thickly muscled butt inside his loose fitting slacks and his wide T-shaped back stretching the top of his tank top to the bursting point; the way he swung his legs around the girth of his thighs as he walked and the way his dark skin contrasted with his white tank. By the time the beefy butler had answered the front door I had caught up.

Boston hauled his shirt over his head and handed it to Remi. He knew us well by now and we knew the mansion party drill. Park your clothes at the door. I wasn't wearing a shirt. I handed Remi my shoes and pealed my pants over my thick thighs and calves and left them on the entryway floor.

Blaine, one of the Studio Men photographers snapped a picture of my naked body walking in, my fourteen inch cock unfurling in front of me. He snapped another of Boston as soon as he was nude, then held his camera out to the side as he put his arm around my neck and kissed me on the mouth. His dick hardened and flipped up to his stomach. Those Studio Men pheromones were powerful. I never got over the effect I had on normal men, even the straight ones like Blaine. Our mouths opened as we sucked face. My cock thickened, stretched and rose between Blaine's thighs, lifting his scrotum and splitting his ass cheeks as it curled up behind him. He set the camera down and put both hands on my pecs, squeezing hard but barely making an impression. I humped his crotch a little like a horny dog and he moaned. He reached around behind his back and massaged the huge head of my cock with his hand. It was slick with pre-cum and still a little moist from Boston's sucking. The more I humped the more vigorous he massaged. In a few minutes I was shooting a load between his fingers, high over his head, and into his hand, and the friction of his cock on my tight, lumpy abs had him spilling his scum. After one more open mouthed kiss, I wrapped my 28 inch arms around his tight little body and gave him a hug. He rested his head against my hard chest muscles and then released me.

Boston had already gone outside, probably shaking his head at the two of us as he walked by.

The scene in the lush backyard was already wild. About half the men were under contract like Boston and I. In exchange for exclusive photo rights over ten years, they had taken the treatment and put on the two hundred to three hundred pounds of muscle we all carried. They were hung like horses and fucked like wild broncos. Putting them near each other guaranteed pretty much nonstop action and a live show for the ordinary guys invited to the party. The ordinary guys were celebrities, paying guests, politically powerful, or members of selected press outlets that would give the Studio the publicity it needed to sell the lifestyle to the masses through magazines, videos, and guest appearances. But about 25% of the revenue came from the occasional discreet and highly expensive "house calls" -- at $100K a pop.

Four of the guests had “Donkey Dick” Dwight pinned down on a lounge chair. Two of them were licking his wide chest, thickly muscled arms and deep armpits. One of them was lapping at his low hanging balls while the fourth was trying to suck his cock. His mouth was open so wide his lips were stretched to their limit and he only had seven inches inside. He was holding on to it with both hands. Eventually Dwight lost his patience and forced the fucker’s face down as he pumped into his throat. The guy gagged, but Dwight yanked hard until it almost all inside of him. The other three stopped what they were doing to stare in awe.

Over in the hot tub the most famous threesome in gay porn were standing up fucking. Michael was in the middle as usual, his foot long cock inside Derick’s ass and Bobby’s thirteen behind him up his. As usual Michael provided the motion, impaling himself and fucking at the same time. It was his favorite position and a scene the three of them created in endless variations in dozens of Studio films. Michael, who had never been able to decide whether he was a top or a bottom, was the most beautiful blond muscle giant in film, long blond hair with a face like an angel. He hooked up with Chad and Bobby in his first scene and the three of them moved in with him a week later. Although they all worked with other Studio men and fucked around recreationally, they were otherwise inseparable. His favorite top, Bobby, was a swarthy dark haired man with a permanent five o’clock shadow and a shit eating white tooth grin with devilish eyes. Derick was a sweet, quiet man who was so well-muscled it seemed like his five foot ten inch body would burst. It was easy to see why Michael loved to fuck him. His glutes were like watermelons, high, hard and tight.

Boston was nailing our friend and sometimes co-star Jack under a tree near the high wall that surrounded the estate. Jack was an Italian whose muscularity appeared all the more astounding on his pintsized frame, covered with thick dark fur.

At one end of the yard a band was playing music on a stage, but that was only filler. Anyone who’d been at one of the Parties knew what that stage was really for. The regular guys were given numbered tickets as they arrived. Three times during the Party a number would be called, and the one who held that number would win a chance to be transformed.

A hand rested on my broad back. “Chad? Is that you?”

Behind me was a man a little older than I, muscled, but smallish, a gym body, not a bodybuilder, definitely not a Studio Man. He was tall and very handsome. “Pardon?” I said.

“It’s Ramon. You don’t recognize me? Remember, we met at the Sun a few years ago, before you … before this …” he gestured at my body. “Remember the weekend we had. Then you moved in with me, but it only lasted a week or so.”

Ramon! How could I have forgotten Ramon! At the time he was the hottest guy I’d ever fucked. He was older, attentive. He treated me like a son, in a sexy kind of way. I moved in with him after we spent the weekend together. Then after a few days the sexual energy between us faded and I realized I was just in his way. So we decided to call it quits. I told my landlord I was keeping the apartment after all, and things went back to the way they’d been before. Both of us single.

“Ramon! I’m sorry. It’s just that it’s been so long.” His eyes ran all over my body, as wild as mice. It was plain my new look turned him on. I leaned into him and kissed him, in memory of that week long ago. My cock thickened. It strained against his groin and his thigh. Ramon kissed me like a starving man. His hand grabbed my cock and tugged. It rewarded his touch by lengthening and stiffening more. He stepped back and stared at it as he massaged it with his hand.

The rules said we weren’t supposed to get off with the normal guests without money changing hands -- Studio Men was a business -- but Ramon was an old friend.

I watched Ramon’s eyes grow wide as my dick reached its full potential. Before I could touch him again, he had dropped to his knees and was stuffing his mouth with it. He made a good show of it too. He had over half down his throat before he reached his limit. Ordinary guys were almost never able to service a Studio guy completely, especially orally. But the lust we engendered was so overwhelming every one of them tried.

When we’d had our fling years ago Ramon had been the bigger, more masculine guy. I had been the young lightly muscled waifish one. He seemed to get off on being the bigger guy, using me to pleasure himself, being stronger, smarter, more worldly. I thought he liked all of that, but maybe at heart he wanted what he had been giving me. And now I could give it to him. I laid my hand behind Ramon’s neck. I tilted his head forward slightly to get his mouth and his throat in a straight line, and then I yanked his head in toward my groin. Ramon gagged and sputtered as my cock forced its way into his throat, but he put up only token resistance. I pulled his head back and he gasped for breath. I yanked him into me again. This time I got more than half of my prick down his throat. It was enough to make my balls churn. His hands worked the rest of my cock as I impaled his throat again and again. Finally it stiffened and coughed thick milk inside him. Ramon groaned. Ramon splattered cum on my calves as he whipped out a load of his own on the ground.

I released his head. He let my thick cock slip out. It bobbed near his face as he licked it eagerly. I helped him stand and we kissed. I tasted my thick cream in his mouth as we tangled tongues.

The music stopped. We kept kissing. The MC started reading numbers. Ramon reluctantly broke the kiss. He dug his raffle ticket out. His eyes began to grow wide. As the last number was read Ramon jumped and shouted. He flung his arms around my thick neck and kissed me again, then he worked his way to the stage, dodging and weaving his way through the crowd. I followed in his wake. At the side of the stage he disappeared for a minute, walking behind the stage, walked out from behind the curtains, standing next to the MC, who was one of us, standing on the stage with his shirt off.

The MC put his arm around him. I noticed Ramon’s pants were still unfastened and his cock was dangling out, wet and dripping.

“It looks like someone’s been enjoying himself,” the MC said.

Ramon smiled, but he didn’t bother trying to cover himself. It was one of the things I had loved about him years ago – his unabashed sexuality.

“What’s your name?” the big guy asked and pointed a mike in Ramon’s face. Ramon answered. He looked small next to the MC, but still he was pretty impressive for a regular guy his age. His shoulders and arms still filled out the sleeves of his shirt nicely, and his soft dick would have done most guys proud. Perhaps that was why he was so relaxed about his body.

“Do you know why we called you up here?”

“You called my ticket number.”

“That’s right. You’re first raffle winner. Are you ready to give it a go?”

Ramon nodded enthusiastically. The crowd cheered. About half the audience around the stage was paying customers like Ramon. The other half was guys like me. It didn’t matter whether you’d gone through it or not, watching it happen was the hottest sight on earth.

“Did they give you a drink of water back stage?” the MC asked.

Ramon nodded.

“What would you say if I told you you’d just taken the formula?”

Ramon grinned. The crowd cheered again.

The first change that was visible on Ramon, since he was wearing shorts, was his calves. Almost as straight as pipes and smooth when he first came on stage, they were beginning to widen at the top and get veiny. Then his chest, delts and traps began to fill out his shirt, and finally his thighs grew enough to make the tops of his shorts snug. His cock, dangling out of his pants, was thicker and longer too, even though it hadn’t begun to get stiff…yet. The top of his pecs, visible below his open collar, were getting so thick a shadow formed between them. His traps were forming a pyramid from his shoulders to his wide neck. His arms started to fill his short sleeves. Finally his lats got so wide and his chest got so thick that the top buttons of his shirt were strained. As hot as it was to watch, I knew it was even sexier to feel it happen to you. You could see the sexual ecstasy on Ramon’s face. His eyes were staring blankly over the crowd. His mouth hung open. His eyes almost made him look pained, but the way his dick was filling out made his true feelings obvious. Though it was still hanging downward, it had started to lift itself a bit, and it had stretched out over a foot, really thick from the bottom to the middle, then tapering slightly to his foreskin. Ramon tugged on it and shoved his other hand into his shirt to feel his thick, hard chest muscles. He probably wasn’t even thinking about people looking at him now. He was totally lost in the overwhelming lust rushing through his veins.

The crowd was hooting and chanting. The middle button on his shirt popped and someone yelled, “Rip it off!”

Ramon pulled it open with his hands, popping the rest of the buttons and exposing his twin stacks of cobblestone abs. His shoulders and arms proved to be too big already to wiggle his way out of the sleeves, so je raised his arms and squeezed out a double bi that split them up the sides. The MC tore away the tattered sleeves away and left the rest of his wide open Lilliputian shirt on.

The crowd barely had time to get over that sight before his one-eyed snake lifted itself straight up to his chest. At first Ramon didn’t realize what they were whooping about, but when he saw it he smiled even wider. He rubbed a wide paw from the head to the root causing the head to peek out from his foreskin. Ramon unbuttoned his shorts and let them fall to his ankles. The crowd cheered. Looking out over the audience. He couldn’t control himself. His hands wrapped around his cock and jerked it a couple times. His eyes clenched; his jaw dropped. A guy in the front row jumped on stage and knelt in front of him to give him head with his mouth. Ramon tweaked his distended nipples between his thumb and forefinger. The guy sucking his dick rubbed his hands over Ramon’s hard stomach and his chest. Ramon had just about reached the growth limits of a single dose. Without another one, or the fixer formula, his newfound size would fade over the next year, unless he started hitting the gym and working at it.

I glanced around the audience. A few of them, especially the guys like me, had hauled out their hard dicks and some of them were getting serviced by the guys around them, rules be damned.

“Hot, huh?” Boston’s deep voice whispered in my ear from behind. His hand was rubbing between my ass cheeks. His cock grazed my hip. His voice alone was enough to make my dick point high. His touch had me pushing back against his hand, helping his thumb find my anus. His cock followed his thumb. Soon his huge hands were planted on my shoulders as he humped my ass. My dick bobbed as my body shook. I felt him erupt inside my guts and I let myself go too, splattering the guys in front of me.

Apparently it was in the air. Ramon’s new friend was also getting covered in cum.

Boston pulled out. He put an arm around my waist and pulled me into him as we both faced the stage.

Running with the Bulls - Part 3

Continuing from previous posts...

In the afterglow, as he talked and laughed with Luke and Hauk, Guy realized he had never in his life felt as comfortable as he felt here in this crowd of men in the big well lit tent. Even though the acts he had just finished with Luke and Hauk were still so new to him that they seemed equally as perverse as pleasurable, he felt content. Around his family and friends back home Guy had never been able to escape a sense that he did not fit in, that under his paper thin skin he carried a secret he could not quite articulate, yet one that he sensed he might inadvertently reveal at any moment, and in doing so destroy the love they thought they felt for him. That fear, never far from the surface, kept him forever slightly ill at ease around them.

Guy felt like a heavenly being among heavenly beings. He felt like he glowed. He felt a sense of liberation of emotion and of action. He felt free to act on his natural impulses in a way he imagined his friends had always been able to.

As other men approached the three of them, still standing with their sticky wet dicks hanging out, drinking and talking, occasionally touching each other and sending a flood of hot blood back into their cocks, temporarily inflating them, unabashedly enjoying the fullness in their groin and appreciating the sight of the arousal they provoked in each other, Guy felt their love, affection and acceptance as well. Each of them was different from the other, different ethnicities, different occupations, different personalities and ambitions, yet in the most basic and important ways they were just like him.

Talking to them in every shifting groups, never once feeling slighted as some walked away, feeling delighted as new ones approached him, feeling them touch him, stroke him, brazenly enjoying their mutual sexual attractions, Guy almost felt tears in his eyes. At first as the crowd thinned, Guy barely noticed. Then when he did notice he felt just a little sad that the gathering would end, but happy to be among the last to leave.

“It looks like you’ve been enjoying yourself,” Guy heard a deep voice from his side. When he turned he saw Hadad, and he felt Hadad’s brawny arm encircle his waist. If Guy could have purred he would have. Hadad was looking down at Guy’s cock, still exposed, but now inflating again at Hadad’s warm embrace. “Have you decided where you are going to sleep tonight?”

Guy hadn’t a clue. He was new to all of this, and if someone had told him he would never sleep again, if it meant he could be in the company of these men, he wouldn’t have objected.

“Do you want to stay with me?” Hadad asked, and he gave Guy an open mouthed kiss as a further unnecessary enticement before steering him, under the wing of his massive arm, out of the tent, away from the last few men standing inside, into the dark.

The scene outside the tent seemed subdued at first, until Guy heard a moan as they passed one of the cabins, then squeaking bed springs, and a deep voice, “Fuck me harder,” a quickening of the squeaks, “That’s it.”

In the moonlight filtering into the dark cabin, through an open window, he saw four enormous men, half in shadow, connected at their dicks like pieces of a rocking erector set, sweaty bodies glistening in the dim light. As he watched his dick stiffened, his mouth tingled, then he realized that Hadad was watching him watch them and grinning. He felt Hadad stroke his full, hard cock. He knelt in front of him and took it into his mouth. “Are you going to give me a sample?” Hadad asked between gulps. “Huh? Can I taste some of your cum?” Guy steadied his head and fucked his mouth as he stared at the action inside the cabin. Hadad was good. He was better than Guy ever thought he could be. Not only did he swallow Guy’s prodigious cock in long deep dives, but he tongued and sucked it into ecstasy in a matter of minutes. Before he could even think to control himself, Guy was ejaculating deep into his throat and thrusting hard against his scratchy bearded lips.

When he’d finished, Hadad stood again and kissed him, sharing the cream of his own cum with Guy as they tangled tongues.

“That’s only the beginning, my young friend. That’s only the beginning.” Hadad said as he broke their embrace and interlaced his fingers with Guy’s and led him on through the cabins. Toward the end of the rows Haddad stopped at one with the lights still on. He looked at Guy, smiled and gave him a deep kiss before leading him up the three small steps and inside.

A few of the gargantuan men inside were standing, talking and horsing around the six bunks that lined the cabin walls, their naked chests held high. Some of them had taken off their pants, allowing their unbelievably large endowments to wag in front of them. Four of them were clustered around the bunk in the corner fucking. They looked up as Guy walked in with Hadad. Hadad introduced Guy, but Guy couldn’t remember any of their names. He was too light headed and boned looking at their bodies. He didn’t even notice when they smiled among themselves at his dizzy arousal, his fly still wide open, his dick sticking a foot out in front of him. Guy knew it showed, but he loved that it did.

Before Guy was aware, Hadad was behind him unfastening his jeans, tugging them down to his ankles and two of the men, both taller than him, were taking turns kissing him, tilting his boyishly masculine face upward to meet their lips, and licking his bare chest as they tugged on his cock. They were almost twins, the same height, dark hair, hairy like Hadad, square jaws, and dark skin. Guy tugged both their long, long dicks, some of the largest he’d seen that night. He felt a cock slid between his ass cheeks and up his back. (Hadad? He hoped so, but didn’t care. He knew whoever had first crack at him, Hadad would have more than his fair share.) The brush of chest hair against his back confirmed it was Hadad.

Hadad pulled back and positioned himself at the entrance to Guy’s ass, then pushed inside in one long, deep thrust, letting out a sigh, telling of the relief he felt after having been so patient all night long. As the two tall men continued to tongue Guy’s upper body, he felt an aggressive mouth on his cock, swallowing it whole and coaxing it to full mast while struggling to keep its angle level and available to fill his throat.

Guy was so deeply aroused he could barely stand. As his knees buckled, the tall, strong men in front of him lifted Guy’s arms and wrapped them around their pyramid shaped shoulders as they continued to work him over.

Another man joined the first man at Guy’s cock. He felt the two of them passing it back and forth between them, each taking it completely inside their throats, each sucking him vigorously, trying, it seemed, to out do the other and be the one that let loose the geyser inside his balls.

Hadad’s cock was drilling deeper inside him than any man had been before. Was it even possible that Hadad was bigger than Aiden? Aiden had been sixteen inches long! Guy had thought he would never be fucked by anyone bigger. But the feeling of Hadad arranging his guts to suit his own purposes, rubbing hard against his prostate, was more intoxicating than even that first night with Aiden. No wonder Hadad had been so sure of himself from the moment they first met. To own such a cock and to be able give such pleasure!

Guy floated in a fog of erotic bliss, his muscles as limp as his cock was hard. He felt a tingle inside his ass that warmed and spread and intensified until his whole body quivered. It was a rush as intense as cumming, but instead of feeling a spike of intense pleasure for a few moments, the ecstasy rolled through Guy’s body in wild waves, each more extreme than the last. As the rapture deepened, Guy hugged the men kissing him more tightly. He tangled tongues with them frantically. And finally when he felt his whole body would burst, his cock jerked like a rifle and poured long, hard volleys of hot cum down the throat of one of his kneeling admirers, who moaned as he drank it gratefully, the deep rumblings in his throat only adding to Guy’s satisfaction.

Caribbean Cruise

This is another work in progress. The inspiration was a real life encounter on a small tropical island a few years ago while on a cruise -- only minus the hunk and the sex, I guess. Still it could have been different.

Caribbean Cruise

by Josef Howard

(c) 2008

It was an afternoon excursion, a few hours away from the small cruise ship. The ship’s crew was serving lunch on a private beach on a small island, and after lunch the crew had challenged the passengers to a game of volleyball -- winners to be served dinner that night by the losers.

I’d gone ashore to take some pictures of the island. Bored with my fellow passengers, I skipped lunch and wandered off into the trees to the side of the beach. The cruise had been a last minute decision I had come to regret. As far as I could tell, everyone but me was heterosexual. Most of them were over 50, except for a few twenty-somethings – the adult children of the ones over 50.

Photography was a hobby of mine. I carried my DSLR around my neck in hope that the picaresque island might be a good subject for landscapes.

A few yards away I discovered a cluster of thatch roofed concrete patios outfitted with hammocks and rough hewn furniture. The first few were empty, but in one of the hammocks a well-muscled shirtless man in shorts reclined, watching me like a cat staring out a window.

“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to snoop.” I held up the camera. “Just taking some vacation pictures.”

The reclining man brought a hand-rolled cigarette to his lips, sucked deeply and blew smoke into the air above his head. “You with the cruise ship?” he asked. I nodded. “Where you from?”

“California,” I said.

“I used to live there,” he volunteered. “Sold my houses, quit my job and traveled for a while before I bought this place. Wouldn’t go back for the world.”

As I walked closer to talk with him I noticed something else. It wasn’t just his muscles that were big, although even they were bigger than I first thought. The bunched up flesh in his crotch was obscenely distending his pants, and it was made all the more obvious by the way he let the thumb and forefinger of his free hand frame one side of the bulge.

Now, as intrusive as my behavior was, I couldn’t tear myself away from him. I couldn’t stop staring. I couldn’t stop myself from walking closer to get a better look. I tried to cover my intentions by asking if I could take his picture. He smiled and said I could.

He offered me a drag on his cigarette, ignoring my anxiety. I welcomed the excuse to get closer and took a puff, although I wasn’t a smoker. I expected it might be marijuana, but it wasn’t. Still it had similar effects: dilation of time, exaggerated sense of my own heartbeat, loss of self consciousness and in the presence of such a spectacular man, an instant and persistent erection. I lost track of the conversation and fell silent, but my eyes were still riveted on his crotch.

“You want to take a picture of that?” he laughed. “Why don’t you take it out and have a look at it?” he said as he laid a heavy hand on my shoulder.

I reached cautiously for the top button of his cut-off jeans, and fumbled a few seconds before he unbuttoned it for me and popped the other buttons open as he pulled his fly apart.

His cock lay draped over his enormous balls and down between his thighs. It was thick as a cobra and, exposed to the air, it started and came to life. He lifted it from between his legs and laid it across his hip. Even soft it was over a foot long. He combed his fingers through the short hair on my head, encouraging my fascination with his swiftly swelling cock. As it lifted itself from his thigh and rose into the air, I felt my own dick throbbing inside my loose shorts. I was mesmerized by its rise. I glanced briefly at his proud, grinning face, as he watched the two of us and nodded for me to go at it.

It was standing straight up from his crotch now, a foot and a half of flesh, even thicker at the base than it was around the blunt head. I bent it toward my salivating mouth and went down, wrestling half of it inside me on the first try, and squeezing most of the rest in my jerking fists. I couldn’t wait to taste it’s juice, but he kept a more leisurely pace. As I sucked him hard and buried more and more of it inside me, he unfastened my shorts and jerked my wet cock with his left hand. To a hand familiar with a cock as big as his, my ten inches must have felt small, but he was just as determined to bring me off as I was him. I felt the big ridge on the underside of his cock grow as thick as a pencil, get as hard as steel, and then both of us were rewarded for our efforts. Cum shot from him deep inside my throat like a fire hose and I came so hard we both heard it splatter on the cement floor.

His still jerking cock slid up my throat and I tasted the cum I was swallowing. He lifted my face to his and we shared a cum flavored kiss as he continued firing on himself.

When he stopped, he sat up, brushed the cum from his chest and legs with his hands, and stood. I was surprised he was shorter than I, though no less impressive. He pulled his loose shorts down his legs and stepped out of them.

I still couldn’t take my eyes off him, if not his dick, then the rest of his marvelous body. I worked out at Gold’s in Venice. I had seen big guys before, but he was bigger, and unlike the pros, he had still had a tight, svelte waist, albeit ridged with thick bifurcated rolls of abdominal muscle.

My fascination was obvious and he indulged me by flexing his arms and doing a most muscular. I shot a few more pictures, then he laid my hand on his chest and encouraged me to feel him.

“You like big guys?” He asked.

I nodded without taking my hands or my eyes from his body.

“Then I need to introduce you to some friends,” he said. He took me by my one of my wandering hands and led me away from the beach, deeper inland. We walked along a path through dense foliage.

Liquid Muscle

One of the things I want to do with this blog is publish story fragments -- things I have started and may or may not finish. This is one of those fragments.

Sometimes the inspiration for a story is the way the guy puts on muscle -- as I have said before elsewhere I like that to be different every time. Other times the inspiration is a scene I can't get out of my head. With this story it is the latter. Dr. Hauptmann's dialog at the beginning is what inspired the story.

Liquid Muscle

by Josef Howard

(C) 2008

"I'm going to put you in the trial for two reasons. You're one of the few applicants who is willing to let us take you to your physical limit, and you're also willing to join the company after the trial."

Dr. Hauptmann seemed an unlikely man to be running the medical trial that Wayne applied for. He barely tipped the scales at 160 pounds, though he was more than six feet tall. It made Johann wonder if the whole thing was a hoax, or subtrifuge for some secret experiment, but his lust for muscular development was more powerful than his anxiety. What they advertised was rapid, extreme muscular hypertrophy. Johann had just begun lifting. He'd made some good progress, but he was only a little more muscular than Dr. Hauptmann, and it had taken him three months to get that far. He knew that to get as big as he wanted would take years of hard work and painstaking attention to diet, even with all the drugs in the world.

"It's a liquid we give you," Dr. Hauptmann explained. "Liquid muscle one of our lab techs has called it. It passes straight through your stomach into your bloodstream and deep into your muscles. It doesn't build muscle, it IS muscle in liquid form. It fuses with your muscle tissue, making your muscles grow, ounce for ounce with the amount of liquid you drink. You don't exercise. You don't eat special food. You just come here every day and drink a couple gallons of the liquid. Sound good?"

Johann nodded.

"Good."

Dr. Hauptmann shook his hand and left the room. One of Dr. Hauptmann's assistants brought the release forms and contracts. Johann signed papers for half an hour. Then the assistant took him to a waiting room, different from the one he'd been in before. Three other men were sitting there, two of them wearing shirts so tight it looked like their buttons would pop. The other was just a bit bigger than Johann. He smiled when Johann caught his eye. One by one they called them in. One by one, after a few minutes, they walked back out. The two big guys had removed their shirts before they came back through the waiting room.

Johann wondered if he was the only man in the trial who liked other men. You'd think gay men would be naturals for this kind of experiment, but he'd met plenty of straight men at the gym who got off on getting big, even openly admired other big men. Neither of the bare-chested big guys threw him a glance as his eyes locked on them. They were bigger than any men he'd seen at his gym, but then most guys there were just a few years more experienced than he was and none of them seemed really serious.

The other patients swaggered as they walked through the room. The smaller guy smiled at him again. He seemed to understand, Johann thought. Maybe he was gay. Or maybe he was just thrilled to be a part of this whole trial and as excited as Johann to see how big he'd be after a couple of weeks.

The receptionist poked his head through the door and called Johann's number. None of them went by their name in this room for the sake of their privacy. Johann was the only one left. Even the smaller guy had been called, had his treatment and left, dropping a wink in Johann''s direction as he passed by.

The treatment room was stark, concrete block walls, high frosted clerestory windows, a plastic chair, a steel table. A two gallon jug of clear, brown tinted fluid sat on the table with a clear plastic tube attached to the bottom of the jug. An attendant waited in the room standing next to the table. He looked like he'd been sampling the merchandise. He looked like he was stuffed into his white lab coat. His arms, shoulders and chest stretched the material to its limits and the connections between them created tight creases. The attendant motioned for Johann to sit. He explained that Johann needed to drink the entire jug today before he left. It always took longer the first time, but eventually he'd get the whole thing down. The fluid would start flowing into his bloodstream as soon as it landed in his stomach, making room for him to drink more. The attendant handed him the end of the tube. Johann put it into his mouth. The attendant opened the spigot. The liquid crept slowly toward his lips. When it reached his mouth Johann almost spit it out, it was so viscous and bitter. He suppressed a gag and swallowed forcefully. As soon as he had swallowed his mouth was full again. The second swallow was easier, but Johann began to wonder if he'd be able to drink it all. Still if this was the hardest part of getting big, Johann was determined to continue.

"You'll get used to it," the attendant said encouragingly. "After the first week most guys start to like the taste."

Johann kept swallowing. He could feel the cool liquid spreading from his stomach through his heart and veins. He could feel his muscles swell like he had a pump from working out. He stretched and flexed his arms. His muscles were so swollen they constricted his movement. The feeling was so unusual he stopped drinking for a minute. Then he realized the more he drank the more they would swell and he started swallowing again.

Johann feel his skin tightening. He cupped his one of his biceps in his hand. It actually filled his palm. He had a real peak. And his shirt sleeve was getting tight from his shoulders to his elbows. His lats were straining the sides of his shirt. His thighs were filling out his pant legs, and his calves were straining the narrow end of the legging.

Johann was gulping the liquid now. He didn't care how bad it tasted. The jug was almost half empty. He wondered whether his clothes would still fit when he was finished. No wonder the big guys walked out without their shirts. Obviously they'd outgrown them. Johann glanced at the attendant. The attendant was grinning.

"Feels great, huh?" he said.

Johann wouldn't stop drinking long enough to answer. He just nodded. Around his upper calves, his tapered jeans were so tight the stitching was starting to pop. The button that held his shirt closed at his chest burst and flew across the room. Under his arms the seams at the side of the shirt started to rip. The muscle the liquid built was pound for pound the same weight as the liquid, so he couldn't have put on more than ten or fifteen pounds, but ten or fifteen pounds in the right places made quite a difference. He supposed he would look a little like a gorilla in street clothes on his way home, but he didn't much care. He couldn't wait to see how he looked in the mirror when he got home.

Johann made a slurping sound as the last of the liquid drained from the jug. The attendant took the end from his mouth and told him to go home and take it easy for a few hours while his body digested what he'd drank.

"Oh, and I wouldn't buy many new clothes for a while," he chuckled as he flexed his arm and glanced at the sizable bulge his bicep made inside his lab coat.

---

"How do you feel?" Dr. Hauptmann asked as the entered the room. He looked up from Johann's chart. Johann sat on the edge of the examining table, hunched over. He looked like a fucking hairless gorilla. His shoulders stretched the XXL t-shirt as tight as skin, and his upper arms were as big as hams. He wore a pair of the baggiest shorts he could find. They were loose around the waist, but he could barely get his thighs inside them.

"Like I could wrestle a gorilla!"

"You weigh 235? How many days has it been?"

"This is my fifth day," Johann said. Even his face was broader and more muscular. Dr. Hauptmann hardly recognized him. His traps rose steeply from his delts and engulfed his neck.

"Any side effects?" the doctor asked.

"Just lots of energy," Johann said. "I hardly sleep anymore. It's hard for me to sit still long enough to read or watch TV. I know I don't have to, but I spend a lot of time in the gym to work it off. I'm lifting weights I couldn't even have imagined lifting before. And stamina. I just don't get tired. Especially in bed. I started getting multiple orgasms -- you know, like just when you think you've stopped cumming, you're peaking all over again -- four or five in a row. Some guys like it, but it freaks most of them out." Johann realized as he spoke that he'd just told the doctor he was sleeping with men. If it shocked him, the doctor didn't show it.

"Fifty-five inch chest, 30 inch waist," the doctor read the measurements the attendant had taken. "Your arms are 21 inches. Your thighs are 30 inches. Your body fat is down to 8 percent. All that muscle burns a lot of calories. In another week or so when you get down around 3 percent you’re going to need to eat more. Your development is well balanced. Are you happy with how you look?"

"Fuckin' love it. I never thought I could get like this!"

"Good, good. Of course you're committed to the program no matter what, you know, but I'm glad you're still feeling cooperative, because we have an improved formula we're going to try on you starting today. It's denser and more biologically active. Just started administering it to the guys in the study today." The attendant entered the room. Johann may have grown, but the attendant had grown too, but not as much. He and Johann were about the same size now. "Steven will get you set up," the doctor said as he left.

So he had a name. Johann had never asked and Steven had never volunteered. They walked out into the hall. Johann turned right. Steven called out after him. "We're using a different room this time." He opened the door on a small room with lockers. "Strip down to your underwear. Leave your clothes in one of the lockers. When you're ready, I'll meet you on the other side of that door." He pointed to a door at the back of the room.

Johann shed everything but his boxers and walked through the door.

The treatment room looked like one of the doctor's offices. It was wood paneled. The walls were lined with bookcases. Two enormous guys were slouched down in wide upholstered chairs sucking on the liquid, their eyes glazed over, completely unaware of him or anything else. They were so big that Johann stopped and stared. Both of them had to be over 300 pounds, even though one of them was shorter than him.

"Over here," Steven said and pointed to an empty chair. He handed a tube to Johann. "This formula is thicker, like a milk shake," he explained. Johann could see the fluid was darker. It looked more like oil. His dick stirred inside his boxers. He noticed one of the other two guys was boned too. One of them was wearing white jockey shorts and his thick, hard cock was draped over his hip and down the side. The big vein down the center was almost the size of an ordinary man's cock. He couldn't even see the head. Johann could see his balls though. They were as big as lemons. Johann wondered if his dick had always been that big. Maybe this new stuff made your dick grow too! The other guy was wearing boxers. It was difficult to tell how well hung he was, but he had the fingers of his left hand inside the waistband and he was rubbing the side of his dick.

The liquid was thick enough that it was difficult to suck through the tube, and harder to swallow. It had the same acrid taste, only more intense, but Steven had been right. Johann had gotten used to the taste, like one gets used to black coffee, and drinking this stronger formula was like drinking Cuban coffee without the sugar. Just like the old formula, it started hitting his bloodstream as soon as it reached his stomach. It might have been the thickness or the intensity, but immediately Johann felt drowsy, light-headed. He looked around the room blankly. His veins stood out all over his body, and his nerve endings felt like they were humming. Every muscle in his body was swollen now. His skin felt as tight as a drum. Johann held his wrist in his hand and pumped his bicep, watching it bunch up like a cantaloupe. He straightened his arm and flexed his triceps. He curled his wrist and watched his forearm pop.

His muscles weren’t the only thing swelling. His cock had gotten hard, but then that happened every time he looked at himself. Steven had left the room. Johann brushed his thick cock with his fingers. Neither of the other guys were looking at him or each other. It was like they couldn’t even see him. But he could see them, and he liked what he saw. The short one was fucking unbelievable. Arms as big as his tiny waist, and shoulders and traps like a pyramid up to his ears. Johann pulled his cock out of his jockey shorts and let it point straight up. He’d never been ashamed of his endowment. Most guys thought he was on the large side, but fuck would it be cool if the new stuff made him bigger there too. Johann studied the guy in the boxers. Shit, that was his dick pointing out the leg, and it was thicker than a horse’s cock. Johann grabbed his cock and squeezed. Damn, this all felt good. Through the wide slit in the head he oozed a stream of pre-cum. Johann rubbed it over his dick head. All the muscles in his body tensed and he could feel how much bigger he was than when he’d sat down.

He looked up to see the short guy again and saw him playing with himself too. Man, his dick sure wasn’t short! Must have been a good ten inches! A couple minutes later the guy was squirting all over himself, still not aware of anything in the room but himself. Johann wanted to walk over and suck the rest of the cream out, but he didn’t want to stop drinking. He was about a third of the way through his bottle and he felt like a fuckin’ god!

The door opened. Steven was back in the room with a towel. The short guy had finished his bottle and Steven was wiping the cum from his chest. Was he watching from another room, or was masturbation common with this new formula?

Steven helped the guy to his feet and led him out of the room. Johann exchanged glances with him as he left the room, but he didn’t stop playing with himself. It felt too good. The big guy didn’t even acknowledge him, but Steven smiled.

The tall one still in the room was almost to the end of his liquid. He was boned now and furiously jacking his thick uncut horse cock. His pecs were bouncing. His arm muscles were engorged with blood and hard as rock. His eyes rolled back into his head; his hips thrust. Just before he shot he looked over at Johann. It was all the attention Johann needed to cum simultaneously with him. His buddy across the room shot like a fire hose, like he wasn’t even human – thick, long streams that flew straight up over his head over three feet – five, six times. His straw sucked air as he stopped. Steven walked in the room with three towels -- one for the big guy, one to wipe up the floor, and one that he tossed nonchalantly in Johann’s direction.

The big guy pulled his boxer’s off, and as he wiped himself clean his eyes locked with Johann’s. Their dicks started inflating again, and as Steven led the guy out of the room, the guys head swiveled, staring at Johann as his monster cock bobbed in front of him. As he walked out of the room, Johann was struck by how much bigger the guy was than when he had first noticed him. He was almost the equal of the shorter man.

Johann looked down at himself and noticed how much bigger he’d gotten since he sat down. His arms were thicker. His pecs stood out from his chest. And his thighs were so wide he couldn’t put his knees together. His cock was still stiff and getting stiffer as he flexed and enjoyed the view. It was thicker too, and almost a foot long. He rubbed a little left over cum into his cock head and swooned. He felt electricity in his balls, felt his cock swell and start spitting juice again.

Johann wiped himself off again with the wet towel and stood up to flex some more. Damn room should have mirrors, he thought. Still he was sticking out so much in all directions it was easy to see how big he had gotten. He was almost finished with his jug and his arms had to be 24 inches. His chest was at least 55 inches, maybe more because his lats were so wide that every time he stood up straight they pushed his arms out to his side. Johann wondered how much bigger he could get and for a fleeting second he felt a little scared. Would he end up like some muscle bound version of Jaba the Hut, immobilized by his own mass, dependent on attendants to feed him?

As he finished the last of the liquid, Steven entered the room. He smiled broadly at their guinea pig and took the end of the tube from his hand. "Take my hand," he told Johann, "You're going to feel light headed for a while. I'll take you to the recovery room." He took Johann's hand as he stood up.

Steven led him down a deserted hall, unlocked a door and held it open for him, but he didn't walk in the room. "There are some loose fitting medical pants and pullovers you can wear when you're rested. I don't expect the clothes you wore will fit."

Johann walked in. The lights were dim, but he could clearly see the two guys who had been in the treatment room with him. He could clearly see them fucking.

Running With the Bulls - Part 2

Guy thought for sure he’d missed his turn when he noticed a wooden sign for “Walden” pointing to a narrow one land road on the left. He turned and drove for miles through dense woods until the road ended near a big circus sized tent surrounded by a cluster of crude cabins on concrete blocks, which were, in turn, surrounded by cars and trucks parked haphazardly.
Through open flaps Guy could see people standing in the brightly lit tent, and a steady stream of men were walking from their vehicles toward the openings. Every man Guy saw seemed bigger, more outrageously muscular than the last. Most of them were shirtless. Some wore what would have been loose fitting workout clothes. Others wore tattered military fatigues. Guy stopped his rental car and hurried in with them.
“Hey, hot stuff!” a baritone voice behind him called out. Guy turned to see two large men walking without shirts in the cool air, their big manly nipples sticking out. One had his beefy arm around the bullish neck of the other. He had expected it was someone he knew, but they were just being friendly. “This your first time?” asked the bullish necked man, whose chest was as hairy as a rug and whose shoulders and arms were flecked with more dark hair. Guy slowed down to let them catch up. He grinned like a little boy and found himself stooping sheepishly as they got closer. He nodded. “Fuck, you won’t believe it! You’ve just died and gone to heaven!” He reached out an arm as thick as a log and patted Guy’s back. “Look at him, Gary,” he said to his buddy, “Corn fed. Fresh off the farm.” He put his arm around Guy’s neck as they walked side by side and hugged him hard. Guy grinned even wider, his cock boning quickly inside his baggy pants. Walking beside these two enormous, undeniably masculine men made Guy feel warm deep inside, yet seeing them walk as a couple made him feel lonely for the affection of the man who had invited him here, Aiden. He hadn’t expected there to be so many other men here. How would he find Aiden among all of them?
As they converged with others on one of the entrances to the tent they were joined by another trio of friends who stopped, turned and exchanged hugs with Guy and the pair he’d just met. Guy’s hard-on only grew more obvious as the other three took turns enveloping him inside their immense arms and chests.
Except for a few men in his family, Guy had been used to being the most freakishly large man in any crowd, but he was only barely in the same league as the smallest of these men. The last of the new trio, a swarthy middle-easterner with a three day growth of beard over his bricklike jaw, planted an open mouthed kiss on Guy’s lips and tinkled his mouth with his broad, coarse tongue. The mountains of his pecs were deeply divided by a valley down his sternum that became more shallow, but no less pronounced between the round hills of his abs. For a moment there was nothing else on Guy’s mind but this man in his embrace. Guy wanted to lay in that deep valley, locking lips with him forever as he sniffed his pungent sweat.
The others glanced at them nonchalantly, appreciative of their mutual, transient delight, as they made friendly conversation. Guy limply staggered as the man let him loose enough to reach a hand between them and unfasten the buttons of his shirt, then pulled himself into the opening, allowing the skin of their chests to touch. Guy felt his cock protruding eight inches beyond the elastic band of his sweat pants, thicker than any penis he’d ever seen or felt in his life, and gurgling pre-cum as it rubbed against his abs. “We have definitely got to hook up,” the man said softly in his ear, making the hairs on his neck stand up and tingle, “My name is Hadad.” Guy hugged Hadad tightly and answered only his name, too captivated with him to say anything else.
Then as suddenly and casually as Hadad had grabbed Guy, he let him go and began talking with the others, although he kept an arm around Guy for a few seconds more before he released him completely. Then the six of them turned toward the tent, Guy trailing the rest by a step or two, missing the attentions of his Arab admirer, but comforted by the thought that there were hundreds of others inside the big tent, and apparently they were all very friendly.
They were also almost all shirtless. In fact Guy wondered if there were shirts big enough to contain the chest, shoulders and arms of some of them. As he entered the tent, his eyes grew wide and his jaw slackened. His cock was at half mast inside his loose pants, his heart pounded and he grew flush all over. Soon he was so warm that he took off his open shirt and tied it the sleeves around his waist. Every few feet, stray eyes that weren’t locked on the faces of other men they were talking to, looked him over, and the admirers grinned lasciviously at him.
The preferred mode of hello here, instead of a handshake, seemed to be brushing a raised hand on the meaty chest of one’s new-found friend, feeling the smooth skin or thick hair, grazing the nipples and enjoying the response it got. After receiving the greeting a few times, Guy indulged his desire to return it, further heightening his arousal and provoking more than a few deeply erotic kisses.
Here and there in the big, but tightly packed tent, Guy came across two or three or more men more completely involved with each other. There were two small orgies on opposite ends of the tent, huddled, humping, multi-colored masses of men working their pent up sexual tensions out, rocking and thrusting in a sweaty, sticky pile of muscle and cock. But none of the men standing nearby any of this gave it more than casual glances.
In the middle of the floor he came across a pair standing side by side, tongue kissing, while they tugged on each other’s cobra-sized cocks, freed by unbuckled pants and unzipped flies. The shorted one craned his neck to reach the taller one’s mouth. Both were among the most outrageously muscled of the crowd. Watching their arms flex as they tugged on each other, made Guy so horny he grabbed himself and squeezed tightly. Slowly, carefully, as though he might scare them away, Guy approached them and knelt at their feet. He unfastened the hand from the tall one’s sixteen inch cock and put it into his watering mouth.
It had been months since Guy had tasted cock, but he hadn’t forgotten what Aiden had taught him. He carefully aligned his mouth with his throat and sucked air deeply, drawing a foot of the thick, purple penis down his throat. Determined to take it all the way, he pushed forward until his lips kissed the large man’s groin. He laid his spare hand on the back of Guy’s head and held his mouth down on his cock as he thrust deeply. Guy held his breath, waited for the hand to release him, and slowly drew his lips along his cock, gulping air before he dove down on it again.
As guy sucked, he opened his pants and hauled out his rock hard cock and worked it over with his spitty hand. Suddenly, as Guy once again buried the whole length of him inside his throat, the guy jerked and emptied a long, thick pulsing stream of hot cum juice down Guy’s throat. Guy swallowed appreciatively as he jacked himself to an equally enthusiastic orgasm.
Guy reached his hand up and felt the man’s rocky abs and heaving chest as he slowly released him. He was about to stand, when the man’s shorter friend offered his slightly shorter, but fatter cock. Guy lapped at it, catching his breath before forcing it deep down inside him. The shorter man hardly needed to be touched. All the way down he jerked and spurted a thick, heavy load inside him. Guy held him inside him as long as he could, feeling the man’s cock shudder in his throat, then gradually released him, pausing to suck on his cock head before letting it free.
The tank-sized man held Guy’s square jaw in his hand and tilted his head up to look him in the eye. Guy smiled. He stood. The man was only a couple inches shorter than Guy. His companion was only a couple inches taller. He grabbed Guy’s arm. His companion brushed Guy’s flat, narrow waist with the back of his hand. “What’s your name?” he asked Guy. “He’s Hauk,” his eyes pointed to his tall, blond companion, “I’m Luke.” Both men had blue eyes, but the shorter one’s eyes were pale blue, ethereal. His face was broad, his cheekbones high and narrow, his chin wide. Guy still couldn’t get over how much more muscular they were than he was. Hauk must have been almost 350, and even Luke, must have 320. Their extra size was in all the right places: biceps like melons, deltoids like basketballs, lats that flared out so far they widened almost horizontally from their waists, and legs so thick they couldn’t keep their knees together.
“Is this your first time here?” Hauk asked.
“Why does everyone ask me that?” Guy replied. “Is it that obvious?”
“You’ll know soon enough,” Luke said. “I remember my first time,” he wet his lips, “Nothing more intense in my life.”
“How long you been working out?” Hauk asked.
“I quit after high school, actually,” Guy said.
“Shit! Can you believe him? A 300 pound natural with 3 percent body fat? I can’t wait to see you after,” Hauk said.
“After what?” Guy asked.
“That’s enough,” said Luke, “Don’t ruin it for him.”

Running With the Bulls - Part 1

Guy leaned as much as he could against the window, but his enormous physique still pushed his seatmate out towards the aisle. He could tell she was annoyed with him, but what could he do. The seats on this small prop plane just weren’t made for someone his size. As they approached the landing strip, the plane dropped suddenly and pitched, tossing him against her. She glared at him as though it was his fault.
Guy had been self conscious about his size since puberty. Other guys got tall and skinny. Guy got tall, but Guy got built. At age thirteen he was five foot five and one hundred sixty pounds. At age fifteen he was five foot eleven and two hundred ten pounds. In high school, when he started lifting weights with the rest of the football team he exploded. By graduation he was six foot two and two hundred sixty pounds. The other guys got thick around the waist, but Guy didn’t. Guy had a deep cut eight pack and a thirty inch waist. He also had a trouser snake that even made his straight team mates comment – ten inches soft. The coach used to call it a baseball bat, which was appropriate, because his testicles were the size of softballs.
Guy got a job on his father’s construction crew after school, and even though he stopped lifting weights and never paid much attention to what he ate, he put on another forty pounds of muscle by the time he turned twenty. If he’d lived on the coast in some big city, no doubt he might made friends with guys who worked out, guys who were into bodybuilding. He might have found the magazines with pictures of guys his size and started competing, but Guy lived in a small town in Montana.
He was shy around girls, most of them were afraid of him. A few of them treated him with obvious disdain, like his seatmate on the plane, but a few of them were really turned on by his body. Guy just didn’t feel the same about them. He lived at home with his parents, worked sixty hour weeks on the building houses with his dad and watched TV.
If it hadn’t been for the trip he’d made with his parents to visit his aunt in upstate New York last summer, he’d never be on this plane today. Their flight had been overbooked and Guy had volunteered to take the next plane to New York. The airline had upgraded him to first class. It was a day that changed Guy’s life forever. It was the day he met someone like himself and first realized that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t a freak.
He’d boarded early and was sitting looking out the window when his seat mate arrived. The guy said hello. Guy looked up and saw someone just as freaking huge as himself standing in the aisle. Only instead of wearing a baggy XXXL shirt like Guy, the stud was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt so tight that every muscle of his amazing torso was visible through the stretch cotton. Guy literally stared at him, forgetting even to say hello. The stud grinned and extended a meaty hand. Guy snapped out of his reverie and shook it. His name was Aiden.
Even though the seats were extra wide, their shoulders and arms were plastered tight against each other the whole trip from Denver to New York, but Guy didn’t mind. He felt lightheaded, dizzy, and giggly. He couldn’t take his eyes off Aiden even when he wasn’t talking to him, but thankfully Aiden talked to him most of the trip, and as they were talking, Guys cock, threaded down the leg of his boxer shorts as usual – bunching it up near his crotch created an embarrassing bulge – started to swell, until it was almost at full mast. Even in his baggy jeans he couldn’t hide it, and he noticed that Aiden occasionally glanced down at it as they talked.
Twice during the trip he got up to take care of it. Each time he whacked off in the tiny lavatory he came so hard he sprayed all over the mirror and sink, and wasted four or five paper towels cleaning up after himself.
It was queer getting so excited by a guy, but Guy couldn’t concentrate on feeling ashamed right then, all he could concentrate on was his thumping heart and his sweaty palms.
At LaGuardia Aiden invited him into the City for the night. Guy was booked on a small plane to upstate New York that left near midnight, but he blew it off and told his parents his flight from Denver had been late.
Once inside the door of Aiden’s small apartment, Aiden ripped off Guy’s clothes and fucked him raw not three feet from the door. Naked, Guy realized Aiden was even bigger than he was – every where. Neither of them could take their hands off the other all night. Whenever either relaxed or began to drift off, the other attacked and the ball busting orgy started all over again.
Aiden drove him back to the airport early the next morning, hair mussed, unshaven, looking hotter than he had when Guy had first seen him. He scribbled his phone number on a scrap of paper from the floor of the car and handed it to Guy when they kissed through the open car window. Guy knew the whole world could see he was queer, but he didn’t care. He only wanted one last taste of Aiden’s thick hot lips.
They were supposed to hook up again on the New York layover on Guy’s way back to Montana, but his parents changed their plans and they flew back a different way. Guy was sick about it. Every day for weeks he called Aiden from his cell phone. Guy’s parents noticed. They thought he’d met a girl. Only where? And how come he never dated her? Guy thought of flying back to New York to be with Aiden, but how would he explain it to his folks, who never went anywhere unless they visited relatives? What would he tell them about this Aiden?
Every night and every morning Guy whacked off as he thought about Aiden and their wild night of rough sex. Every day on the job he spaced out three or four times as he hauled lumber or bricks around the job site and ended up somewhere on the job site he never intended to go.
In November, when the ground got too frozen to dig for new foundations and the last of the finish carpentry was done inside the houses already in progress, Guy was off work. Aiden, who had stopped answering his calls every day after a while, called him up and invited him to meet him at a retreat in the red woods. Aiden went there every year for a month or two with other guys. Guy was wounded at first. He wanted to spend time alone with Aiden. But the more they talked, the more it became apparent that this place was special. Aiden said he went there with “guys like us”, but he didn’t mean queers. He meant big guys, masculine guys like the two of them. Then Guy still felt a little sad, but he was also titillated. What if they all were as big and hot as Aiden? What if they were even hotter?
It should have been even harder for Guy to explain to his parents why he was taking a week’s trip to some camp site alone than it would have been to explain his trip to New York, but once he’d gotten excited about meeting guys like himself, he didn’t let his fear or his parents perplexed expressions worry him.
And so he was on the puddle hoper from San Francisco to Eureka next to the pencil thin woman who hated him, uneasy at meeting strangers, uncertain he would fit in, afraid he might not be good enough to be there, but so excited by the prospect of being with guys like himself he was almost creaming in his pants.
Guy had to return the first car he rented at the airport. He couldn’t fit inside even though it was a mid size. When he explained his dilemma the man behind the counter rented him an SUV. The next problem was finding the camp. He thought the directions were explicit, but as the sun went down, it became difficult to see the tiny narrow, dirt roads that intersected with the two lane highway from the airport. He rolled down his window to see better and was surprised at how unseasonably warm it was, at least compared to winter in Montana. The air was damp from recent rain, but it must have been in the fifties.

...much more to come...

Vampires - Four

Vampires of Sodom and Gomorrah
Chapter Four
(c) 2008 Josef Howard

It’s not that I’m gay, but I’ve always gotten off on big muscles from the moment I discovered them flipping through Flex magazine when I was 13 at the supermarket. I was a little embarrassed to buy that first copy, afraid what the checkout clerk in my small town grocery store would say about a skinny kid buying pictures of gargantuan half-naked men. But after a few months of following the workout programs I read about and eating like a horse, I’d put on enough muscle to assuage any aspersions toward my manhood. By the time I graduated high school I weighed two hundred pounds.

In those years Lee Haney, Gary Strydom, Mike Matarazzo where gods to me. I hung with the big guys at my gym, and even messed around with a few of them if we got a little carried away in private, but I always dated girls.
A few years ago when I reached the top tier of the sport, I lost the last of my attraction for other guys. There wasn't anyone much bigger than me and the guys the same size were my rivals. If one of them found out I fucked around with guys, my career would have been over. Look at Bob Paris.

Instead it was me that the smaller guys wanted to hang with. Occasionally I might have taken advantage of a favor one of them might do me after a rub down, but I always thought about women the whole time.

I thought my admiration of other men was over until I met Kurt. The minute he walked into my gym, he hit me like an avalanche of bricks. The guy was not only huge with a capital H -- bigger than me or anybody I ever met -- but a freaking stud. Wide flaring jaws coated with a short black sandpaper beard and chest hair poking out of his workout shirt. He sat down next to me while I was lifting and pumped out a set with twice the weight I could have handled, and as he stared at me his elephant cock snaked up past his waistband and exposed itself. I lost all my concentration and nearly creamed.

My training buddies were as memorized by him as I was. After the workout I went out on a limb and invited him back to my house with the guys. He and I went upstairs to shower and after I’d finished I brought a towel to him in the guest room. Seeing him naked was more than I could resist. I wanted to fucking eat him alive, but he wouldn’t let me. Turns out he’s a major bottom. All he wants to do is suck my dick, except when he lets me fuck him. It’s such a pity too, because he’s hung like a fucking donkey, and there’s nothing hotter, even for straight guys like me, than worshiping a big fucking cock on an incredible hulk.

Only once, on that first day, did I get to play with that enormous meat. I’d just gotten him good an’ fucked up on this shit I smoke after working out sometimes. He’d drained me and my four buddies a few times and it seemed like he’d let his guard down. He’s letting my buddies play with his tool inside his pants, so I drop to my knees and start sucking. I put every move I’ve got into it. I get all fifteen inches stiffer than steel. The swollen crown of his dick is poking deep down inside my throat, and when I poke my finger between the cheeks of his muscle ass and deep inside, he blows down my throat. He cums so much it’s like it’s his first time or something. I want to swallow it all, but I can’t, so I pump the rest out with my hand, and my buddy, Ryan sucks it off the fur of his chest.

His gunk is good, too. Best juice I ever drank. Makes me horny just thinking about it, and I think a lot about it now, but he’s never let me do an encore, even though he’s been coming around to see me three, four times a week since then.

This morning he drops by again, uninvited, unexpected, just like always, but I don’t care. I’m boned the minute I see his face at the door. He locks lips and pushes his way in, feeling me up, and guiding me backwards to the living room where he pulls off our clothes and buries his face in my crotch.

Ever since that first day, I can’t deny him anything he wants. It’s like he owns me or something. He touches me; I get hard. After playing with my pony for a while, he’s got me shooting down his throat as he enthusiastically drinks up every last drop.

But once is not enough for him. Twice isn’t either. Four, five, six, or seven is closer. I’ve never cum so much with anyone before in my life. Just when I think I’m dry, he plays this game with me. It started that first day. He told me whenever he rubs this spot at the bottom of my balls I’d cum. Sure enough every time he touches me there I blast. It don’t matter how many times its been before. I thought it was just a new erogenous zone or something, but damn it, I can’t find it when he’s not around.

In between my frantic ejaculations, Kurt works out a couple loads from the monster cock poking up from between his legs to his furry chest.

“What’s your secret?” I ask as we lay on the couch in post coital calm.

“Pardon?” he asks. He seems a little distressed with the question.

“How did you get so fucking big? I mean it ain’t because you shoot up more juice than the rest of us. I’d see the side effects from that, and you don’t have any of them. How much do you weigh?”

“Three twenty.”

“See what I mean? That’s a good twenty pounds more than the biggest competition bodybuilders, and you’re not much taller than six feet. Your body fat has never been more than two percent since I met you, and your waist is only thirty inches.”

“Guess I just have good genetics.”

“Right.” I deadpan. “I could understand you not telling me about it if you were competing with me, but you’ve never set foot on a stage in your life. No one but me and my buddies has ever seen you before. C’mon, Kurt. Level with me.”

He hesitates, like he’s making a big decision. “Do you believe in the supernatural, Rex?”

“What, like ghost and magic?”

“Like vampires.”

“You a vampire?” I laugh. “You suck blood?”

“Not blood,” he says, and for emphasis he waggles my spongy cock. “Not like Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Stoker had it wrong, or maybe he knew the score, but he told the story by metaphor, dressed it up to make it as frightening as he found the truth.”

“So you a vampire and that’s what gives you your superhuman strength,” I humor him.

“You ever see a guy come close to lifting what I lift at the gym? You ever see a guy hung like me? Even in porno? And how come a straight guy like you spends so much time getting off with a man?” He’s so adamant he’s almost scaring me.

“Plenty of guys would fuck around with a guy as hot as you. Besides I fucked around with guys before, when I was a teenager – guys bigger than me – men I looked up to. But what are you saying? That you can seduce straight guys because you’re a vampire?”

“You ever see your buddies so ready to let some stranger suck their dick in front of you before?”

He had me there. Ryan I always suspected, but Tank, Yawar and Jerome? Yawar and Jerome were so ashamed of what they’d let Kurt do to them in front of me that they’d stopped coming by.

“And what about these?” he asked as he bounced my big balls. “Are you telling me you don’t notice how much bigger they got after you swallowed my cum?” I’d always had big knockers, but he was right. They were almost twice as big since then, but that shit he was saying was crazy.

“So you just born a vampire then?” I ask him.

He’s quiet again. I repeat the question.

“No. I’ll tell you how it happens, but I’m not doing it to you,” he says. “You get to be a vampire by drinking vampire cum – three times. Once and it just puts you under my control – at least for sex. Twice and you’ll do anything I ask you to, but it’s a huge burden to be responsible for someone, and I’m not after that. Three times and you turn into one of us, big muscles and all. But then you have to live the life. You need cum to survive. You need cum from ordinary guys.”

“Shit! You’re so fucking full of shit! You expect me to believe that?” I rolled over on top of him and pinned his arms over his head by his wrists. “Let’s take the next step, then Dracula.” I laid one wrist over the other and held both down with one hand while I tugged on his tool, stretching it and helping it fill out.

“Don’t even joke about it!” He was much stronger than me. It only took an instant for him to break free and lift my face from his joint.

“Relax. I ain’t making you cum. I just want you in the mood again.” I force a few inches down my throat and he groans. It’s too bad he’s got this phobia about being sucked, I think, because he’s got the biggest cock I’ve ever seen and I love a challenge. I grab it with both my hands and twist around the bottom. He’s uptight about it, though and it keeps him soft for a while, but that just makes it easier to bend him down my throat. On the next plunge downward, I inhale deeply and draw him almost all the way in. I’d never be able to do that if he were stiff. My throat excites him. He starts to swell inside me and straighten out. I begin to gag and ease off. His dick is slick with spit and flem. I massage him with both hands and he thrusts with his groin. “That’s my boy. I’ll be good. I won’t drink your gizz, but how about I get you off with my hands, huh? You like that?” I can tell by the way his muscles flexed and his hips bucked that he did.

What a fucking thrill it is to yank on that monster! I have big hands and still I can’t wrap them all the way around it. To see his massive hairy chest heave, his thick arms tense, his fingers claw at the sheets it gives me wood just watching him. I stuff that huge cock head into my mouth one last time to suck him to the edge and feel it swell tight as a drum and then start to jerk. Kurt pushes my face away before he squirts long and hard into the air over my shoulder and onto my back. I keep tugging with my hands and pull a long one out of him. Then I get up to clean myself off.

In the bathroom I reach for a towel, then set it on the counter and look in the mirror. Some of Kurt’s gizz is dripping from my traps down my shaved chest. I wipe it up with my forefinger and examine it. What a crock, I think. Vampire! But rather than rinsing it off, I lick it clean, and I reach around behind me and rescue some more from the places I can reach on my back. Kurt comes so much there’s plenty within reach. I hear the floor board creak and grab the towel. Kurt’s head sticks through the doorway just as I start drying the rest off my back.

“Turn around,” Kurt says, and almost before I hear the words I am facing him. “It’s your turn,” he says as he tugs on my dick and it fills out in his hand. He pushes me backward and I lean against the counter as he kneels in front of me and sucks me like a fucking vacuum cleaner. The blood is pounding in my temple and I’m gasping for air.

Kurt stands and points his throbbing monster between my bouncing balls. “And now it’s time to take you to the next level,” he says as he lifts my thighs and pokes his huge upward arching cock between my ass cheeks. I realize he’s planning to cum inside me – that he thinks this will be number two – but it’s really number three – but I want him inside me so bad I don’t say a word.

As he slides in, I squeeze gently to make him feel good. Nothing else is important to me – just Kurt and making him as happy as he’s making me. My chin submissively down, I raise my eyes up and look at his handsome face in awe. Each stroke of his cock inside me makes me tremble. He’s fucked me before, but it’s never felt like this. No one has ever made me feel like this – no man, no woman. We aren’t just fuck buddies anymore – I fucking love this man. I realize it’s the effects of drinking his supernatural cum that’s making me feel this way, but I don’t care. I just want him sliding around inside me making me happy forever.

Once he’s sure he’s not hurting me, Kurt closes his eyes and starts to relax and enjoy himself like I’ve never seen before. I suddenly realize that every time we’ve sucked or fucked before Kurt has either been in a rush to get me off or if he was inside of me he was struggling to keep from cumming. For the first time he was just enjoying himself. For the first time we were both just enjoying ourselves!

I plant my hands on his massive, hairy pectorals and rub his nipples in my palms as I massage his chest. Kurt moans and bites his tongue as he pumps every last inch slowly inside of me. Kurt wraps one hand around my fully boned cock, slick with pre-cum, and starts a gentle hand job that matches the rhythm of his fucking, bottoming out at my balls at the same time he bottoms out inside my ass. The double pleasure of his hand job and getting fucked is so intense my balls tighten, my cock swells, and I feel cum forcing itself into my cock. “That’s it, baby. That’s my boy. Cum for me. Don’t worry. I won’t stop fucking you,” Kurt says as he milks one out of me.

As the last shiver of cum escapes my sweat soaked body, Kurt thrusts upward and lifts me up from the bathroom counter into the air with his boner, smiling at my surprise. He holds me in the air for a while suspended by his wrist thick cock just to show me he can. Then he bounces my two hundred thirty pound body on his dick on his dick, steadying my upper body with his hands. I feel like I’m riding a horse, only with the horse’s cock pointed up my ass massaging my guts. I’m rock hard again and ready to cum – this time without even being touched. Kurt can feel it in the way my guts are quivering around his cock and see it in the way I am arching my back and tensing all over, as desperate to let this load out as the one before. I blast again, spraying us both in the face and making out chests wet and sticky.

When I’ve finished, Kurt holds me tight against him, the side of his face against my chest, my huge thighs wrapped around his ass, as he squirms around inside me enjoying himself. He walks over to my king size bed carrying me still impaled and lays me down. He steps back, allowing his immense penis to slowly reveal itself, inch by thick, fucking inch, longer, harder and wider than I’ve ever seen it, teased to epic proportions by our fucking. The head is free and it slaps against his chest, purplish and slick with precum.

“I’m so close, baby. So close. Are you ready to be all mine?” he says.

“I’m already yours,” I tell him.

He smiles, thinking I mean I just appreciate how well he fucks, unaware that I am already at the second stage.

“It’s just beginning, baby boy,” he tells me as he rolls me over on my knees and rubs his monster cock between my big muscled ass cheeks, easily finding the still gaping hole he left from his furious fucking.

As he slips back inside I twist my head around to watch his incredible mass flexing as he forces himself all the way in. I look down underneath at my cock, swelling again as he rubs against my insides, and my enormous bull balls dangling beneath it, still full of cum for him. I raise my ass higher, invitingly. He presses his hairy groin against my asshole and slowly, slowly withdraws, all the way out, then all the way in, letting himself hang on the edge, savoring every inch of his conquest.

On the third thrust I feel him swell even larger. Underneath I can see his balls behind mine drawing tighter. From deep in his throat he releases a baritone holler that makes the room tremble. I feel the cum forcing up through his cock. I feel the hot liquid squirting inside. I feel jet after jet filling me up as he fucks faster. He tugs downward on my cock and I start shooting with him. Neither of us can stop.

He collapses on my back, smashing me into the mattress, still firing inside as he thrusts. I’m shooting into the sheets. His hot, stale breath tickles the tiny hairs of my neck.

His heaving chest gives up its fight for air. His pounding heart starts to slow. We lay in a puddle of my cum. His cum leaking out from my ass around his groin even though my ass is stretched tight around him.

I feel heat in my stomach. It spreads through my chest and down my arms and legs. Blood pounds in my veins. My muscles are tight and pumped like never before, but I know it’s only beginning. Every where, all over my body my muscles are widening, thickening, expanding. Kurt feels himself raising up like he’s riding an elevator and pulls out of me. He stands.

“Christ! You’re growing!”

I feel incredible tightness as my muscles each other for room inside my skin, forcing each other outward. They’re harder, more dense. The more they grow, the more I realize it’s not stopping, and I don’t fucking care. It feels so fucking good.

I turn myself over and lay on my back, grinning at Kurt, whose bearded jaw has dropped. But it’s not just surprise he’s feeling. I watch his long, limp prick swell again and reach for the ceiling as he watches me.

It makes me proud and hard. I feel my cock creeping up my abs to my pecs. It’s a feeling even more amazing than the expansion of my muscles. I see my one-eyed monster rise over the mounds of my chest muscles to stare me down and I start giggling with giddy delight.

If Kurt is wondering how this can be happening, he’s too excited to articulate his dismay. His monstrous arms are reaching for mine, grabbing at my enormous blood engorged biceps, admiring their size and weight as I flex them for him. They wander down my chest, rubbing up and down against my distended nipples, making me shiver in delight.

I reach for his cock and jack it, feeling the increased heft of my arms as I move them. He does the same for me, his eyes darting madly over my body, captivated by everything he sees. He erupts high into the air, unable to contain himself. I take his hands from my dick and put them on his, and take over for him. Not that he wasn’t doing a good job for me, but I want to feel how big I am for myself. It’s startling. I have a fucking four-hander poking up from between my legs. I stroke up and down the shaft as I polish the knob. In a few seconds I scream and fire hard on my face. As it slides down my cheeks into my wide open mouth I lick my lips and swallow.

I don’t feel a bit sated, but I can feel my growth slowing and I want to see myself in the mirror. I feel my enormous size as I stand, but ironically I still feel light on my feet. Kurt follows me to the mirror. Although I’m shorter than him, I’m bigger all over. I dig through the bathroom vanity drawers and hand him a tape measure. My arms are thirty inches. My chest is sixty. My waist is still thirty-one, but my thighs are thirty-seven. I’m not just huge. My quads flair out to the sides. My abs are hard and cut like masonry, and my biceps are shaped like waves breaking on an ocean surf.

I grab the tape measure from Kurt and measure my penis. Sixteen inches fluffed, but it’s not all hard. I stand on the scale – three twenty-five!

Kurt is plainly enchanted. If he is wondering how it happened so soon, he’s not talking about it. He stands close behind me, his cock rubbing against my thick back. He leans close to my ear and says in a soft voice, “Welcome to the club.”

Comments appreciated: josefhoward@gmail.com

Earlier chapters of this story are posted on my website: http://josefhoward.home.att.net/