A Growing Concern

Food of Love

2009-07-12T19:04:00.001-07:00

(c) 2009 Josef Howard

“A toast, then, to new romantic adventures,” Brice offered, his wildly muscular arm raised over the dinner table laden with an elaborate feast. His lover, Ali, grinned and raised his outrageously large arm in unison, and Mark, their new roommate, slightly inebriated from the pre-dinner cocktails, joined them.

Mark was still not sure what he was letting himself in for having agreed to be roommates with the hugely muscular gay couple he had met at the gym and chummed with for the last few months. But last week his girl friend had dumped him, putting him out of their shared apartment and turning him into a serial sofa sleeper, spending a night or two at each of his male friends’ homes. Finally he’d run out of friends to impose upon.

Mark had known Brice and Ali for several years, since he joined the gym in the Mission District. Brice and Ali worked out all the time, it seemed, because it didn’t matter when Mark went to the gym. He always saw them there. It was a serious gym, filled with many talented amateurs and the occasional visiting pro, but Brice and Ali outshone them all. They were the biggest men in the gym, spotting each other as they lifted unbelievable weights to the astonishment of the rest of the regulars. Yet Brice and Ali were not aloof. They made friends with everyone, although Mark suspected they were auditioning every guy they spoke to as a potential sexual conquest the two of them might ensnare and share.

When Brice and Ali heard about his predicament they offered to let him stay with them. They had a huge house. There was no reason he couldn’t sleep in one of their guest rooms for a few weeks.

Tonight, the first night of the new arrangement, Brice and Ali had cooked a feast for the three of them. It was as they sat down to eat that Brice raised his glass to toast.

Even a straight man like Mark had to admit they were a striking couple. Brice was a dirty blond with wide jaw, a button nose, a constant five o’clock shadow and chest hair that couldn’t be kept inside any shirt he wore. Ali was a classically beautiful African man, but with light blue eyes. Their physiques were practically cartoonish. Although Mark had spent very little time browsing muscle magazines, because he wasn’t particularly interested in getting really big, he knew that both Brice and Ali were bigger than any of the current champions. Brice admitted to having 25 inch arms, cold. Ali acceded to breaking 26 inches a few months ago. He’d watched them bench 900 pounds for five sets of twelve more times than he could remember.

Although the quantities of food they feasted on that evening exceeded the gastronomic capabilities of six normal men, every dish fit with the slavish diet of a serious bodybuilder. Mark had never followed a diet as strictly as he knew he should. He figured after a few weeks of eating with Brice and Ali he’d probably cut up and put on ten pounds.

Not that Mark needed to improve his appearance. He lifted mostly to improve his athletic abilities in other sports, so he didn’t get huge, but still he had tightened his muscularity, developed washboard abs and generous proportions that titillated men who enjoyed other men. Even before he started lifting Mark had attracted gay men like picnics attract ants.

Across the dinner table his hosts’ across the dinner table as brightly as the candle light glinting off the silver. As Mark looked at the two of them looking at him, he considered what it might be like to be sandwiched between the two of them – not that he was sexually attracted to men, but their bodies were so outrageously powerful it was hard not to think of them sexually. Mark wondered what they looked like with each other, what they did, how their faces looked strained in ecstasy. It didn’t help that it had been several days since he’d slept with his ex and was in no shape emotionally to meet other women.

There were plenty of extra bedrooms in the mansion, but the one Brice and Ali chose for Mark was arguably the most spectacular. It had been a conservatory originally. It was built entirely of glass on the roof of the house with a view of the City in all directions. A pedestal bed situated in the center of the room made Mark feel as though he were part of some citywide window display. One had to be very comfortable with ones appearance to walk around the room at night when the lights were still on.

The bright city lights kept Mark awake longer than usual and made him sleep more lightly than usual. Deep into the night Mark heard a floor board creak. He opened his eyes. In the shadows near the door stood a massive silhouette, a bare-chested man-mountain in boxer shorts with almost no neck.

“Just checking on you.” It was Brice’s voice. “Do you need anything?” He stepped closer.

Before Mark could decide how to answer, Brice stepped closer. It was a hot evening and Mark had been sleeping with the covers pulled back. Brice took his engorged cock, visible through his white jockey shorts, as a yes. He walked closer, his own dick long enough to hang out beyond the bottom of his boxer short leggings, bouncing in front of him. It was another way Brice and Ali intimidated their straight friends. Not even the straightest man could take his eyes off their boa constrictor cocks as they walked from the showers to the lockers. Mark had considered himself gifted before he met the two of them.

Brice crawled up from the foot of the bed between Mark’s legs, warming his cock with hot breath through Mark’s shorts. By the time Brice pulled down the waistband of Mark’s shorts, Mark’s long, fat dick was standing straight up, presenting itself, and Brice made a show of devouring it full staff in one gulp, taking Mark’s breath away.

It was an open secret that gay men gave better head than women because they had both enjoyed and entertained the plumbing, and Brice confirmed the myth. At first Mark kept his eyes closed and thought about women, but the job Brice was doing was so good, Mark couldn’t resist opening them and watching the man’s mouth slide up and down his delighted cock. Between deep lunges burying it down his throat, Brice spent what felt like hours licking and sucking on just the head, digging under the foreskin with his tongue, and making Mark hard as a nail and making his dick feel like a balloon about to burst. Brice finally began a series of full cock slurping sucks that made Mark’s heart pound until the cum burst from his balls.

The next morning not a word or even a sideways glanced passed between Brice and Mark. It was as if nothing had ever happened, yet the following night Mark had hardly even climbed into bed before Ali was standing next to his bed, his long, thick cock rising between them, his hands pulling back the covers to unveil Mark’s prick, rock hard in anticipation.

Ali was every bit as skilled with his mouth as Brice, a fact that made Mark fantasize about the two of them in sixty-nine, vigorously devouring each other’s enormous cocks with uncommon skill, and brought him to a climax far quicker than he wanted..

But Ali didn’t stop there. After rolling Mark’s tingling soft cock around his hips and thighs with his large hands awhile, after he sensed Mark’s dick beginning to swell once more, Ali began to finger Mark’s ass. At first he stayed outside, giving Mark just enough anal pleasure to inflate his spent prick, but not long after he had Mark back in his mouth, his thick, warm thumb poked past Mark’s sphincter and massaged his prostrate gland.

It wasn’t the first time Mark had had a finger up his ass. Hell, just about ever woman he’d slept with knew that trick. But Mark suspected that when a man like Ali put a digit up an ass, he was halfway to plugging that orifice with a different extremity. Yet, the combination of Ali’s thumb and his mouth was so hot, Mark didn’t want to stop him.

Only when Ali pulled back and he saw the enormously muscular dark-skinned man lit by the dim city lights, his impossibly large cock swollen and pointing up past the bottom of his pecs, only then did a shiver of fear shake Mark’s body. But the touch of Ali’s thumb at the door to Mark’s ass as Ali found his way in the dark reminded Mark of the pleasure possibilities.

As Ali raised and spread Mark’s legs, Mark had an out of body sensation, as though this wasn’t him this was happening to, as wide as his ass was stretched around the head of Ali’s cock. And when Ali propped himself up with his hands on either side of Mark’s shoulders, Mark began feeling up Ali’s impressively muscular arms, something he could never have pictured himself wanting to do before now.

The heat in Mark’s loins rose as he opened to Ali’s slow advance. Through the intense shivers of pleasure that radiated from his ass, Mark barely noticed how hard and wet his cock had become. He could feel his balls sucked tight against his groin. He could feel his purplish prick straining against his abs, but mostly he felt the monstrous member pressing deeper.

Ali shook his head once as he bottomed out inside his roomy, then slowly allowed himself to fall back, leaving Mark hungry for another assault with every inch that vacated him.

Even in the relative darkness Mark could see how insanely Ali’s muscles bunched and tightened as he fucked him, and the vicarious pleasure of penetrating someone intensified the pleasure of getting fucked.

Their sexual rhythm built into an incredible buzz that rose and rose until Mark felt himself emptying his jism spontaneously, spraying his chest, his chin and his face.

Before he had stopped, Ali had caught up and he felt a rush of warm liquid spraying inside him.

After a slow retreat from his ass, Ali kissed Mark’s wet belly lightly and left the room as quietly as he’d entered.

So began a repeating pattern of nocturnal visits by one or the other of Mark’s new roommates. As much as Mark loved women, he found he loved the sex with Brice and Ali even more

As Mark anticipated, the food his new roommates fed him, began to show on his body. Or maybe it was just that he was putting more time in the gym now that he wasn’t dating. Whatever the reason, Mark’s pants began to get tighter in the ass and the legs. His shirtsleeves felt constricting and even with the top button open, his shirts impinged on his neck. Mark didn’t want to be really big, but he had to admit it felt sexy to be growing, to be getting hard all over his body.

His slow physical improvements made him feel more worthy of the studly couple’s nightly visits. The only thing he couldn’t understand was why their physical attentions never spilled over into the daylight. Mark often found himself lingering near them as they passed in the hall and enjoying their friendly embraces more than he had before, but he never sensed they acknowledged the physical nature of their relationship when they were clothed.

Was it possible that neither of them knew that the other visited him every night. Admittedly the alternation between the two of them was not perfectly symmetrical, lending the appearance that they might not be sharing him by mutual consent, but if neither knew of the other’s activities, how was it possible that the two of them had never arrived in the bedroom by chance on the same night?

Yet the lack of daylight acknowledgement made the situation easier for Mark emotionally. He wasn’t quite sure he was ready to have a real relationship with another man, and surely if they acknowledged him in their home, it would eventually lead to obvious overtures in the gym in front of their mutual friends. For now he could deflect the prurient inquiries of his straight gym buddies about his living arrangement by simply saying Brice and Ali’s sexuality wasn’t a problem for him, even if he had exceeded the original agreed timeframe for staying with them.

Still his friends at the gym were suspicious. The changes in Mark’s body were beginning to be more noticeable. At first his muscles had merely been tight cords that bunched when he moved. Now they were bulbous masses of sinew that bulged through his clothes and threatened to burst seams. Both his arms and his neck broke the 20 inch mark. Another mark passed merely because his size was important enough that he measured himself and spoke about it. The changes on top of Mark’s already stunning frame drove women and gay men crazy, but Mark had no eyes for either. The gay men understood him to be straight. The women understood him to be on the rebound. On some level this transformation into a man more like his two roomies seemed to imply a closeness of spirit. Or at least a shared purpose or pharmacological regime.

His straight friends could talk openly about his muscular growth, but none of them could bring themselves to mention the spectacularly obvious growth of the meat between his newly thick thighs. They couldn’t understand how that could be affected by diet and workout. Mark couldn’t either, but he didn’t care. It was another change that made him feel more confident, more worthy of his roomies’ attentions. It obviously delighted both Brice and Ali, and their reaction made Mark half suspect that he might be capable of driving a wedge between the two of them, not that he wanted to.

There was one final change that no one but Mark noticed, with the exception of Brice and Ali, who never spoke of it. That was the matter of his “loads”. Whenever Mark came, and he came much more frequently now, he came much, much longer, and the volume of spunk he expelled was far beyond anything he had thought was humanly possible.

No matter how much he came, Brice and Ali drank it all, whether it fired down their throats our whether they lapped it up from his chest, arms and face.

The changes accelerated when Brice and Ali invited Mark to train with them. He could only lift half their poundage at first, but the psychological push of lifting with the two of them and seeing how easily they controlled all that iron drove him to try harder. Every time he left the gym his muscles felt stretched larger than they had ever been before, filled with so much blood he could hardly bend.

When he was able to lift three quarters of their weights his body had become so extreme that no one could doubt he was hard core. Nothing he did could hide it. Short of Brice and Ali he was the largest man in the gym and could have stepped on any bodybuilding stage in the world and placed in the top three. His shoulders were four times as wide as his waist, and his lats pressed his arms out further still. His legs were so wide they forced themselves apart so that it was impossible for him to touch his knees together.

On the night of his third month in house of Brice and Ali, as the three of them rose from the dinner table, Brice pressed his body against Mark and gave him an open mouthed kiss. If that weren’t enough of a shock, Ali pressed against his back and kissed him on the neck. The two of them pulled his shirt over his head and began to devour his body right there in the dining room. When he was naked between them, Brice and Ali took turns slurping his cock while the other kissed and fondled his body from behind, sliding an elephantine cock between his ass cheeks and up the crevice of his back muscles.

The doubled stimulus of both their bodies brought Mark to a climax in record time, and as he came in long, forceful streams of milky honey, Brice and Ali took turns drinking his juice. When his orgasm finally abated, Mark was too weak-kneed to stand. Brice lowered him to a chair. Ali kissed him on the forehead, and the two of them walked hand in hand out of the room and upstairs to their bedroom, their fully engorged cocks pointing straight up and rubbing their chests.

Mark could not believe it. He thought this first act of shared love was the start of a deeper more affectionate relationship between them. He thought it would at least result in an invitation to share their bed that one night. Yet they left him sitting with the dirty dishes, feeling as consumed and forgotten as the meal they had just shared.

After wiping himself with the napkins and briefly considering clearing the table, Mark thought to himself, ‘fuck it’. He left his clothing on the floor in the small pile where he had stood as they had had their way with him and walked naked up the stairs after them.

The door to their bedroom was wide open, whether as an invitation to watch or join in or merely a careless act of wanton lust Mark could not decide. Whatever the motivation had been neither of them noticed as Mark stood in the doorway and watched Brice sliding his donkey cock deeply in and out of his lover’s welcoming ass. The two of them were more enraptured with each other than Mark had ever seen any other couple, more even than he had felt with either of them in all the weeks they had made love. It was as though the whole of the world had stopped all around them. Nothing existed but their lust for each other and the paroxysms of passion they shared.

The sight of them made Mark hornier than he had ever been, yet as he moved around them, touched them, even entered the ass of Brice as they fucked – nothing he did registered with either of them. How could they have loved him so forcefully just a few minutes before and now ignore him completely? Had the bond between them always been this strong?

The next morning nothing was said of the events of the prior evening. Still it started a new, maddening phase of their relationship for Mark. He had never felt more attracted anyone than the two of them, even emotionally connected in a way he thought he could never be with a man. He had never felt more worthy of their attention, yet they still treated him as no more than a friend in public, and even in private in their home, except for the minutes before they left him for their separate bed, the sexual nature of their relationship was never acknowledged.

Still none of that kept Mark from trying to earn their attention. He pushed himself even harder as they worked out together. In that one area at least he was not frustrated. It was not long before he not only lifted the same weights as the two of them, he began to exceed their limits.

If Mark thought that would change things, he was wrong. The two of them congratulated him on his accomplishments and heaped praise on his increased size as he passed even their immense proportions, but it won him no added considerations of affection. If anything it seemed to Mark they began to consider him less than themselves, someone who belonged to them and had no other choice but to stay with them.

Mark considered moving out, but he was in worse shape financially than he had been when he moved in. His ridiculous development had torpedoed his job. Not only had he been unable to dress professionally, his appearance made his co-workers uneasy around him, and the distance that developed led to performance problems that made his position untenable. Mark’s other friends, while still cordial, had also become distant. Gone were the days they envied him. Now they simply couldn’t understand him. Why would he do what he did to himself? What would make anyone do that?

It seemed that the only thing that kept Mark going was the sex with Brice and Ali. No matter how lonely he felt when they left him, for the moments they loved his body, he felt essential, vital, powerful and desired. That feeling, that moment, became the central part of his life.

A reticent man, Mark had always found it difficult to talk about relationships. Perhaps that was why none of his had lasted more than a few months, but one evening as they were beginning their meal, before the end was in sight, before any of them could fixate what they expected was next, Mark put down his silverware and asked them what was going on. “What am I to the two of you?”

A look flashed between the two of them, sharpened by the glint of a shared smile.

“Dear Mark,” Brice said to him, “we know you have developed feelings for us.”

Tears welled up in Mark’s eyes against his will. “If you know that, why –“ but he couldn’t complete the sentence for sobbing.

Ali stood and kissed his head. Under Ali’s clothing, Mark could see his cock swell. Not even his sorrow quelled their lust. “It will be hard to understand,” Ali told him. “We are not the same as you are.”

“I know that you’re gay. That doesn’t explain it.”

“No, Mark, we are not even really human. Our kind have shared the earth with you for centuries in seclusion, until one of us discovered the symbiosis that was possible between our species.”

The absurdity of what he was saying stopped Mark’s tears.

“Our fluids are not like yours,” Brice continued. “Ours do not impregnate. We don’t reproduce that way. We have no separate sexes. But what we discovered was that our fluids could change the males of your species into something very special to us. It changes your fluids – your seed – into a kind of psychedelic aphrodisiac for us. Along the way it also changes your appearance. It makes you bigger, more muscular than your kind usually grows, even bigger than us. For some men this, plus the joy we give as we drink from you, is enough.”

“You expect me to believe that all I am to you is some kind of cow?”

“We don’t expect anything from you. You are free to leave whenever you want. You stay because you want to stay, or you leave because you want to leave. The changes you’ve gone through will stay with you, at least for a good while, maybe longer than you want them to,” Ali said as he lifted Mark to his feet. Ali kissed him and pulled down his pants. As much as he wanted to resist, as much as he wanted to leave, Mark’s cock wanted to stay. Nothing felt as good as the two of them on him, in him. He may not stay forever, but for now he wasn’t budging.

A Djinn's Own Story - Part 2

2009-07-04T09:50:00.000-07:00

“No! NO! I want to enjoy myself! You can’t put me in this bottle!” Charlie shouted loudly, deeply.

“We have no choice, Little One. We are Djinn and this is where we must stay until we are summoned,” said the voice of the Djinn.

Inside the bottle, Charlie had no substance. He was merely dense bluish smoke. He missed his hugely muscled body and the incredible sense of power he had felt, so briefly, as he stood naked to the world, the power of the Djinn pulsing through him with every heartbeat.

“How long?” Charlie asked.

“A few years, maybe longer. I waited only two days for you to open the bottle. Before that I waited sixty years. Once I was inside the bottle for three centuries, but inside the bottle there is no sensation of time, although we have a sense of what is happening around us. Think of it like a light nap. You can hear sounds around you, but time passes quickly.”

Charlie heard foot steps.

“It sounds like our stay in the bottle will be very brief this time,” the Djinn said. “The man at the end of the alley who saw you slip into the bottle has come to investigate. Pay attention to me, Little One, when he opens the bottle. This is your first time as a Djinn. I have much to teach you.”

Charlie heard the stopper pop off the bottle. Light streamed in. The dense bluish smoke that was Charlie swirled madly like a tornado and Charlie felt himself exploding out into the air. It was a feeling as breathtakingly erotic as cumming.

Charlie’s smoky condensed form rushed out into the air in a high, wide arc, kissing the pavement, expanding and coalescing into solid matter. Charlie felt the immensity of his muscles again and grinned broadly as he looked down on the man who had freed him.

“The Djinn of the bottle awaits your command,” Charlie found himself saying. ‘Why did I say that?’ he thought. ‘I said it for you,’ he heard the Djinn’s voice answer inside his head. ‘Why are you still with me?’ he wondered. ‘You asked to be me. To be me my consciousness must stay with you. Otherwise you would just be you.’

“You’re real!” the young man said, looking up in awe at the masculine majesty standing in front of him. “I can’t believe you’re real! Can I have anything I want? No matter what?”

‘Tell him ‘yes, but there are limitations.’ Charlie heard the Djinn’s voice say inside his head.

“Yes, Habib. Yet there are a few things even a Djinn cannot do.” Charlie said. ‘Habib?’ Where did that come from, Charlie wondered. ‘Language is one of our limitations,’ the Djinn’s booming voice answered inside his head.

The young man walked around him, looking up and down in disbelief. Charlie stared straight ahead, but his Djinn senses could ‘see’ the young man even when he was standing behind him. He was handsome, dark haired, swarthy with a tuft a black fur hanging out of the top of his shirt. “Damn, you’re a big motherfucker!”

“You admire my body, Habib?

“Fuck, yeah! I been fucking around in the gym for years but I never had the gift, not like you. You’re bigger than any of those guys in the magazines.”

“You want to look like I do?”

“Well, I don’t want to be blue, and I’d still like to fit through a doorway. How tall are you?”

“Seven of what you call feet.”

“Seven feet! That’s way too tall, but the muscles, yeah,” the young man volunteered, without thinking about what he had said.

“As you wish, Habib” Before the young man could stop him, Charlie had begun to grant his wish.

The veins in the young man’s neck swelled. His face reddened. His eyes closed. His shoulders rolled back, throwing his chest forward. His shoulders puffed up inside his loose fitting dress shirt. His pecs pushed out, and his arms strained against the seams. “Oh, fuck!” the young man said, “I didn’t mean – I mean – fuck! It feels like getting a hard-on!” He slid the fingers of one hand between the buttons of his shirt and felt his furry chest expanding, straining the buttons. In a fit of sexual frustration he tore his shirt open. Underneath a dark carpet of hair thick, hard abs were taking shape. He flexed his arms and his biceps burst out of his shirt sleeves. “Oh, fuck, that’s hot!”

Charlie agreed. His cobra sized Djinn cock was stirring under the folds of his silk pants, creating a tent over his thigh, but he fought back his desire to keep it from tearing free. ‘Careful, my new friend. You are on the verge of becoming involved with your master,” the Djinn’s voice told Charlie.

The young man had torn the remains of his shirt from his chest and was flexing, watching his chest, arms and shoulders bunch up and grow. Then the seams of his pants started to pop and his thighs tore open holes along the sides. The young man ripped the leggings off and flexed his thighs. He was as big as a perfectly formed heavyweight amateur.

The young man was so into watching his muscles expand like bulbous stone as he flexed that he wasn’t even aware Charlie was there. Charlie smiled and adjusted his thick, firm dick inside his silk pants. A couple of yanks and it would burst free, but his prey wasn’t ready for that yet. Still it was an effort to keep it under wraps as the young man’s body expanded still more. His arms grew as thick as thighs. His shoulders as broad as a door. And the divisions between his sinews sunk deeper into his frame, making his unbelievably thick development appear ever more spectacular. The bulbous bulk of his biceps encroached on his thickening forearms and his ballooning deltoids. His lats spread like bat wings. His pecs swelled up and out in front of his neck blocking his view of the lower half of his body. His thighs were so wide they rubbed against each other half way to his knees. Even from the front his hips, though still narrow betrayed his thickening ass muscles. No longer a grin; his mouth was wide with astonishment at his bizarrely humongous development.

“Are you happy with your wish, Habib? You asked to be as large as I, but not as tall, and of course not blue.” Inside his mind, Charlie could feel the Djinn approve of his handiwork. Charlie had granted the wish, but had intentionally taken it further than he knew the young man had imagined. Such willful misunderstandings were de rigueur for a Djinn. He was proud of him, if not entirely in agreement with his motivations.

“Huh? Oh, but I didn’t – I was just answering your question.” The young man had recovered enough to speak, but he couldn’t keep his hands off his muscles. Indeed they were so immense they were impossible to ignore. His fingers combed through the black fur on his chest and felt up his rock hard pecs and his abs. “Does that count as one of my wishes? Do I only have a few? This might be a bit much. I – I don’t know if I can keep all of this.”

“You have two wishes left.”

“Can I wish to be a little smaller?”

“I am afraid none of your wishes may alter an earlier wish, Habib,” Charlie lied. It was a hitherto for unknown “rule”, and the Djinn inside Charlie’s head tried to make Charlie feel shame at his lie, but the Djinn appreciated the deception as well. Many lifetimes of unrelenting service made even the most obedient Djinn sociopathically passive aggressive.

“How will I cover myself? I look like the Hulk standing here in tattered pants. These seams aren’t going to hold after I start moving.”

“Do you wish for a suit of clothing, Habib?”

“Maybe a whole wardrobe -- no wait. I only have three, right?”

“Two wishes now, Habib.”

“Can’t you just take me home somehow and give me some time to think about what to do next?”

A more secluded venue suited Charlie’s designs on the young man. “As you wish, Habib.”

“No! Not a wish!”

Before the words had escaped him the two of them stood at the door to the young man’s modest home. “Tell me that didn’t count,” he begged.

“Of course not, Habib. Forgive my reflexive response.”

The young man patted his pants for his keys and slipped his thickened finger and thumb into his pocket to pull them free. “Good thing I still have pants pockets,” he chuckled.

Charlie followed him inside his small home, bowing his head ever so slightly to avoid bumping into the ceiling as he walked. “You should make yourself comfortable, Habib. You seem distressed. It pains me to see you so.” Charlie winked and the young man was out of his tightly stretched pants. It had not only been muscle that Charlie had grown all over his young master. His penis was as thick as a coke can. It billowed out from his groin, then lazily draped over a pair of gonads the size of avocados, wiggling and wagging almost to his knees. Freed of the tight confines of his pants and responding to the slight movement of air in the room it began to straighten and swell. Once it began its momentum was unstoppable, until it stuck straight out in front of him in purplish brown glory and dribbled sweet love sweat. The young man tried to remain nonchalant in the presence of his very masculine companion, but his eyes kept returning to it.

“I am your servant, Habib. You should not feel embarrassed by your arousal in front of me.”

“Sure. I –“

“Ignore my presence, Habib. Do as you would do if I were not in the room. Or allow me to give you the relief you so obviously require.”

“I – I won’t waste a wish –“, the young man warned.

“Careful,” said the voice of Djinn inside Charlie’s head, “a Djinn must not become too involved with his master. “Or what?” Charlie asked. “It is never wise to bind oneself with one’s adversary,” the Djinn answered.

Faster than the young man’s eyes could see him move, Charlie was standing in front of him, tugging on the young man’s needy flesh, milking the free flowing pre-cum.. “Banish the thought! Such a service is mere kindness, Habib.” The shorter man was swooning. He didn’t even notice Charlie’s Djinn size cock poking free of his silk pants and dribbling in unison. As he pulled Charlie felt the young man’s cock straining at its thin, sensitive skin, stiffening. “I could provide still more pleasure, Habib, if you allowed me to use my mouth,” Charlie offered.

“Yes. Please,” he asked.

Charlie knelt and sucked up the young man’s giant codpiece like a vacuum. He moaned. His knees weakened.

“Lie down, my young friend,” Charlie implored him. “You will enjoy this more.”

As the young man lay on his back, Charlie knelt over him, his knees above the man’s shoulders, his cock wagging over the young man’s chest, brushing against it as Charlie swooped down repeatedly on his cock. As the young man became more and more aroused he became more entranced by the sight of the Djinn’s prick. Charlie’s near omniscient sense of the area around him made him acutely aware of it. As he drew up off the young man and caught his breath, he said, “I am afraid I suffer from a similar need, Habib. Would you be so kind as to return the favor I am so generously granting you?”

The young man hesitated. He wanted to feel the Djinn’s manhood, but he feared for his life. No man could swallow such a cock and live.

“Do you fear for your safety, young master? There is no need.” Charlie rose over the young man and rubbed his prick on the man’s lips. The young man opened his mouth and Charlie slowly fed him his cock. As it passed the back of his throat, the young man struggled briefly until he realized he neither felt pain nor discomfort. In fact it was the opposite. The Djinn’s warm cock filled his throat and his chest with erotic heat and made his cock harder. The Djinn sucked up his cock as he fucked his throat. After a while it felt to the young man like he was sucking his own cock and he desperately tried to make himself cum. His sucking became more enthusiastic and the Djinn returned the favor.

The young man stiffened and moaned as he emptied inside of the Djinn. An instant later the Djinn returned the favor.

“I never thought I would enjoy that so much with a man,” the young man said as they uncoupled. “Is it as good with a man as it is with a genie?”

“Do you wish to find out?” Charlie asked.

The young man considered the weight of the question, but moved by the intensity of his recent experience to trump that wish with one far better. “I wish to have sexual experiences even more intense than that one for the rest of my life.”

Charlie grinned. “Your wish is my command, Habib.” Charlie’s imagination was already on the job. His momentary satiety was already washed away by a tidal wave of new lust as he regarded the obscene depravity of his previous handiwork. The young man’s physique was a walking wet dream, and the Djinn’s penis was stiff as a board.

“Perhaps we ought to begin by continuing your initiation into intimacy with hyper masculinity,” Charlie suggested. In a blink of the young man’s eye he lay beneath Charlie’s immense blue body, his thick, muscular legs flipped up and hooked over Charlie’s shoulders. The blunt knob of Charlie’s prick pushed at his asshole and spread it wide. This time Charlie did not accord his master special abilities that might have lessened his discomfort, and neither was Charlie inclined to be patient. In one forceful stroke he buried his enormous cock inside the muscle man’s ass, making him scream and forcing his eyes to bug out.

“Get it out of me!”

“If that is your wish, Habib.”

“No! That’s not a wish!”

Charlie had begun to withdraw, but pushed in again, pinning the young hulk once again, this time to slightly different effect.

“Shit!” his master shouted. His cock, which had lost a little of it’s bounce on first entry, was firming up again.

“Do I hurt you, Habib?”

“Fuck, yes, but . . . don’t stop now. It’s just getting good.”

“Yes, Habib.” Charlie suppressed a smile at the young master’s change of heart and began to fuck him.

“Goddamn! That feels fuckin’ great!” The young man braced himself with his hands on the Djinn’s outrageously large chest. What had at first been a convenience became erotic. His hands began to squeeze the rock hard muscles and then to wander around Charlie’s shoulders and his triceps. “I think you are still bigger than me,” the young man mused as he grimaced at Charlie’s assault.

“Is my size pleasing?”

“Yes. I mean. Kinda. I always admired big guys.”

“Like yourself?”

“Yeah. Like both of us. Oh, fuck, I’m cumming! I didn’t even jack myself!”

“Is that good, Habib?”

“Yes, but I just came a few minutes ago. It was hardly more intense than the last one.”

“Habib, this is just foreplay.” Charlie bent his legs and twisted him around his cock, landing him on his stomach. “The first hour is just for fun. The real orgasms begin in the third.” The young man caught his breath and arched his back, raising his ass in service to the Djinn. Charlie grinned lasciviously at the sight of the young man’s muscular ass, wide rippling back and his thickly muscled arms splayed out over his head. At last he was really enjoying being a Djinn, and if he could be of service to this young master, then that was fine too.

A Djinn's Own Story - Part 1

2009-07-04T09:48:00.000-07:00

Charlie held the ornate fluted bottle and looked at it incredulously. That he would find such a thing buried under sacks of garbage in a dumpster inside his apartment building garage seemed like a twilight zone episode. He loosened the stopper and removed it, sniffing inside and expecting to smell bad perfume, but instead the scent he inhaled was spicy and dry as desert wind. A thin trail of white smokiness wafted from the lips of the bottle, thickening, escaping suddenly in a rush of wind. The white smokiness filled his living room and stung his eyes. His eyes watered. He coughed. He swirled his arms to dissipate it, but it was already dissolving. In its place stood a blue skinned giant in sheer silk pants, his head a bald plate, a gold loop ear ring in one ear, and a pair of thickly muscled arms crossed over his huge, defined chest. Charlie’s eyes wandered down and caught just barely caught a glimpse of the creature’s ungainly tube of manhood dangling down the inside of his silk pants before the visage spoke to him in a voice deeper than the growl of a bear.

It was a language Charlie did not understand, but assumed must be Middle Eastern. He excused himself for not understanding and the voice answered in English.

“The Djinn of the Bottle awaits your three commands.”

Charlie grinned. He suppressed a laugh, appreciative of the impossible nature of his circumstance.

“My commands?” he repeated questioningly.

“Yes, Habib.”

“Anything I want? No matter how incredible or impossible?”

“Nothing may be denied the one who possesses the lamp.”

Charlie was well aware of the pitfalls of wishing: the unfortunate unintended consequences, the trickery in their execution no matter how carefully the phrased. He knew no matter what he requested, the creature before him would undoubtedly find some way through subterfuge to ruin the outcome. However servile the Djinn may claim to be, it was always he who was in control. How could it be otherwise when Charlie’s requests were limited while the Djinn’s abilities were not? Long after Charlie’s wishes were granted, the omnipotent Djinn could do whatever HE wished. Not to mention the trouble the Djinn’s next master could create for him.

He needed a strategy, Charlie thought, but it was difficult for him to concentrate in front of the scantily clad giant whose “manhood” – if a Djinn’s cock could be called such – stirred suggestively before his eyes and reached out toward him seductively.

Charlie looked up from the elegantly long, thick cock, now obscenely tenting his silk pants, into the Djinn’s eyes. His stoic visage neither dissuaded nor invited advances. His body language, however, cried out to Charlie to touch. His thighs, so massive the insides pressed tightly against each other, pushing his enormous testicles in front of him.

Charlie reached out and tugged it. It stretched almost as fast as he pulled. The Djinn pulled the waist of his loose pants down and underneath his genitals, giving it infinite room to expand as Charlie cradled it in his hands.

Ten, twelve, fourteen, eighteen inches. Each time Charlie thought it could grow no more, the Djinn tensed the muscles that supported it and it swelled again, both in length and girth, until it stood up almost two feet with a smooth, urgent curve.

Charlie wet his lips and opened his mouth, wrapping his lips around it somewhere in the middle. He sucked along the underside along the whole two feet, feeling it jerk and strain on his tongue. As impossible as it seemed, Charlie had to try sucking it. He pulled it downward with both hands and pointed it at his mouth. He opened wide and sucked it in. He coughed and sputtered as it hit the back of his mouth, but he was determined to take more than five inches of it. He let it fall from his lips. He licked it appreciatively, then dove down on it again, this time drawing it past his tonsils and down into his throat.

Charlie was astonished he could fit it in. It was so thick it was like swallowing a coke can! But it became surprisingly easy. Inch after inch slipped through his lips and tunneled down his chest cavity. The Djinn’s breath quickened. He cradled the back of Charlie’s head with one massive hand and pulled him closer to his crotch.

As Charlie passed the halfway mark he realized it had to be Djinn magic, but what did he care? Sucking the giant horse cock made Charlie so horny his balls were sore and a syrupy stain was spreading at his crotch. He was going to swallow the whole thing and drink the Djinn’s hot cum if it killed him, and then he’d make his wishes, although it would be difficult to top sex with a Djinn in the wish department.

As Charlie got closer to his goal, his eyes flitted from the Djinn’s undulating abs to the stiff tube of flesh that drove deep into this chest, rubbing tightly against his throat all the way down. Finally the giant’s pubic hair flossed Charlie’s teeth and then the Djinn began to fuck his face. Charlie had never felt anything like it in his whole life. Being able to accommodate two foot of cock flesh plunging and poking inside him made his heart pound and his dick jerk in his pants. Charlie shot load after load as he squeezed and jerked the Djinn’s cock with his hands between penetrations. Finally the Djinn let loose himself with thick, foot long streams of bluish cum extruding from his piss slit in wave after wave. It tickled Charlie’s gums, lubricated his throat and filled up his stomach. Between thrusts it covered his face, arms and clothes as the Djinn roared like a lion.

Charlie was drenched with cum and the Djinn’s sweat before the giant was sated and drew his still tumescent, yet slightly limp cock from his throat and slathered his cum over Charlie’s face with it. Slowly it shrank back to its original, merely hefty size.

Charlie caught his breath and scrapped the cum from his face with his hands.

The Djinn was a stoic as before, staring down at him from over a lordly chin as his enormous chest rose and fell.

“Now for my first wish,” Charlie sad as he fell back on the ground on his elbows.

“You mean your last wish, Habib.”

“Last? How do you account for that?”

“Seeing my naked man flesh in all its glory was the first, devouring it completely was the second.”

“But I didn’t ask you for either of those things. I never said a word!”

“Do you deny you wanted them whether you expressed yourself verbally or not?”

“Do you deny YOU wanted both?” Charlie argued.

“It is not my wishes that are in question,” the Djinn answered with a hint of a smile.

“Very well,” Charlie said. He knew the Djinn’s rules were all that mattered. He’d known from the beginning the deck was stacked in the Djinn’s favor and that there was no way a mere man could win. Still he smiled inwardly at what he had gained so far, even if it had cost him dearly in what he might have otherwise had. “Then for my last wish, I wish to be you.”

“That is out of the question,” the Djinn replied.

“Did you or did you not agree with me that there were no limits on my wishes?”

“A man cannot be a Djinn.”

“Are you saying it is not within your abilities to grant my wish?”

“A Djinn is not limited in anything he can do. A Djinn is a physical manifestation of creative energies of the All. If a Djinn may exist as part of the All, a Djinn may create a Djinn from it, but such power is not for the feeble mind of a man. Man’s judgment has been flawed since his creation, as evidenced by his very first choices. To make a man a Djinn is to make him like a god. To make man like a god is to invite cosmic catastrophe.”

“Your excuses don’t interest me. I have made my wish. This time I have spoken it. Nothing could be clearer than my wish and your obligation to fulfill it.”

The Djinn glared at Charlie and seemed to grow taller and even more intimidating, but Charlie did not give in. He clambered to his feet, brushed the dirt from the alley from his jeans and slowly unbuttoned his shirt to make room for the growth he anticipated to be part of his transformation.

The skies darkened above them. The air became electric. Lightning struck at the Djinn’s feet and clouds of smoke billowed up around him. Charlie began to feel lighter than air and at the same time stronger than a bull. His breath came in deep draughts and with each inhalation he felt himself expanding. The seams of his jeans split and the fabric fell to his feet exposing a cock that stretched and thickened until it was as long the Djinn’s. His arms and his legs swelled with thick cables of muscle that twisted and tightened around his bones. His chest and his back expanded drawing his breast bone high and pulling his shoulders back. His waist tightened. Charlie raised his arms and flexed. His biceps bunched up like mountains under his bluish skin. When he laughed his voice was a deep as thunder.

But Charlie’s growth was only just beginning. His bluish blood pounded inside his veins. His muscles swelled like steel balloons. As impossible as it seemed, Charlie could see himself grow as if he were looking in a mirror, or more exactly, as if he were walking around himself, even though he could feel the growth from the pit of his chest to the tips of his fingers and toes.

When it ceased Charlie stood naked, magnificent, almost seven feet tall, in the center of a swirl of wispy bluish smoke that rose from his feet, four hundred pounds of muscle. A man at the entrance to the alley stopped as he walked by and just stared. Charlie grinned at him and laughed, proud of his nudity and unafraid of anyone. He was a Djinn.

“And now, Little One, it is time for us to go home,” said the deep voice of the Djinn inside Charlie’s head.

The smoke at his feet grew thicker, swirling like a tornado, until it completely obscured him. Then the tip of the blue tornado rose from the pavement, touched the mouth of the fluted bottle, and was sucked inside. The stopper floated from the ground and rocked into place, sealing Charlie inside.

Yakima

2009-02-01T14:51:00.000-08:00

I was the smallest kid in my class at the start of junior high. If you had seen me then in a classroom of my peers you would have thought a little boy wandered into the classroom by mistake and no one had the temerity to show him the door. I was five foot two inches tall and a pudgy 120 pounds. As all the kids around me grew into young adults, I stayed a sniffling little kid.

It was because those constant sniffles that my parents took me to the doctor, who sent me to an allergist, who put me on a course of weekly injections for my allergies. The coolest thing about the allergy shots to me that spring was that I was excused from gym class for 24 hours after each shot, and given my size and relative clumsiness, staying out of gym was a respite from further humiliation.

Then suddenly that summer I grew so fast it made people’s heads spin. At the start of ninth grade I was five foot ten inches and a very muscular 180 pounds. None of the kids who hadn’t seen me during the summer recognized me. Some of them thought I was a different guy who just happened to be named Jack Ackerman like the old me. They must have figured the old me moved away. Or maybe he just slithered away and hid in some hole.

Even after they heard I was the same guy, they didn’t treat me like the same guy. Logically they might understand it was still me, but emotionally they treated me like someone else. My bulky body, my chiseled and fuzzy face, and my new found athletic ease meant I hung with a whole different crowd. Suddenly every girl wanted to date me and every guy wanted to be friends with me. In gym class I went from being a klutz to a natural athlete. The football coach started trying to recruit me, and I half considered playing on the team, but after so many years of ignoring sports, I just wasn’t interested in the game.

I kept up with the allergy shots all that year even though they didn’t seem to affect my sniffles or my stuffy sinuses, but I noticed something strange after a few months of being the new me. Most of the Doc’s patients were teenager boys, and half of them were huge. Lots of them even bigger than I was. The Doc himself was huge, now that I thought about it. He wore a loose lab coat, but it was cut like a circus tent to cover his chest shoulders and arms. His neck was wider than his head, and his hands were enormous. All during ninth grade I noticed he treated me differently too, like he was proud of me for some reason. He grinned from ear to ear when he walked in the examining room.

By the end of ninth grade I had packed on another sixty pounds of muscle and stood six foot two inches tall. I looked like a college man. I was shaving twice a day and I didn’t know what to make of my endowment. Most of the girls wouldn’t let me near their pussy because it hurt when I fucked them. The most I could get was a hand job.

The summer between junior high and high school my parents moved across the country. We never lived in a real city before, but this new town was really rural, in the middle of central Washington.

School was a little strange that year, because a lot of the kids were a little afraid of me, like they thought I was an adult planted in the class. In one way it felt normal – like in seventh grade – I was different again, and I spent a lot of time alone.

That spring I got the envelope in the mail. Inside were these pictures of huge muscle dudes – just from the neck down. Some of them my size, some way bigger. Some of them wearing speedos that bulged as obscenely as mine would if I had enough nerve to wear one. Some of them naked with cocks like donkeys. Some of the cocks were stiff. It fucking freaked me out, but it also fucking turned me on. I thought it was sex that turned me on, but as I looked at those pictures I realized what really had turned me on the most was my own body. Seeing variations of bodies like my own only made it clear. I was turned on by big muscle dudes with giant cocks. It was embarrassing to admit even to myself, but looking at those pictures made my skin tingle; it set my blood on fire.

I locked myself in the bathroom after I opened the envelop, greased up my dick with my mom’s hand lotion and wacked out a shit load of cum, all the while moaning and groaning almost uncontrollably.

When I heard the front door close I scrambled to clean up. My parents had been at work when I got the mail after school.

“Jack? Is that you?” my mom’s voice called from the hall. “Are you alright?”

Shit! “Yeah, I’m okay. I just bruised my leg on the counter in here.”

“Let me see,” she said. “How come the door’s locked.”

“Must have been a mistake. I’m okay. I’ll be out in a second.”

In my rush to clean up and vacate the bathroom, I almost overlooked the compact disc and the post card mixed in with the pictures. The disc had a guy on it. He said he was part of some group of guys like me. He said they knew about me. They had been watching me since back in Ohio in junior high, only they’d lost track of me when we moved last year. He said if I wanted to meet guys like me, guys like the ones in the pictures, I should contact him. I should write down a date and time and a place on the postcard and put it in the mail. They’d come met me.

As fucking excited as those pictures made me when I first opened them, I was scared. Finding out you’re a queer is a big deal to a small town guy. Queers had no life in a place like Yakima. But I never for a minute hesitated to mail the postcard. I chose a day two weeks from now, because who knew how close they were or how long it would take them to get here.

The day came and I skipped out of school at lunch and walked downtown to the dying mall. I knew who they were the instant I walked by the food court. One guy – the older one – was gargantuan – over 300 pounds. The other guy was closer to my age and size. They stand and shake hands and introduce themselves. The older one, Frank, is friendly but businesslike. The guy my age, Jesse, is all smiles and eyes.

We don’t order food. Instead they take me to their limo and we go to a small hotel a few blocks away. Frank leads us to a room where they undress me and measure me and weigh me, like I’m some specimen. I’ve got an erection from being near them, but they work around it. No one touches it, not even Jesse, who as least stares at it when he thinks I’m not looking, or when he thinks his long, lanky blond hair is hiding his eyes.

Frank tosses me a robe when they’re done and we sit down. He says he’s glad they’ve found me. I should have asked who they were and what they wanted from me, shouldn’t I? That would have been normal, but I was so juiced by the sight of them. My cock was still hard and wrapped around my waist under the hotel robe, twitching occasionally as we talked and dribbling pre-cum like a leaky faucet. Frank tells me the doc back in Ohio picked me back in the eighth grade. He put me on the shots my parents thought were allergy shots. He tells me not to worry now about why. There’s a reason and there is time enough to talk about it later. Maybe I’d like to take the afternoon off from school today to spend time getting to know someone my own age from the program.

I don’t need encouragement.

Jesse and I leave the hotel. He’s got a motorcycle parked by the limo. I sit behind him and we ride to the local Y. As big as I was I never lifted. Jesse is amused by my cluelessness in the weight room, but he never makes me feel inept or ostracized. He’s attitude is too salacious to let me feel anything but appreciated. It’s a shock to me how strong we both are. We have the place to ourselves because kids are in school and adults are at work. It’s a small town and no one works out during the middle of the afternoon. I’ve leafed through bodybuilding magazines before. I know what the big guys lift, but Jesse and I are almost twice as strong as those guys.

With all the grunting and suggestive positioning as we spot one another, I feel like my cock is going to burst. I wish we had stayed back at the hotel room and Frank had gone away. Or not gone away. I just wish the two of them had given me some relief.

In the locker room we are all alone. As hard as I still am as we walk into the showers, I take my own stall, but Jesse surprises me. He walks into my stall and closes the curtain behind him. He lathers me up and as he finishes my legs he sucks the end of my cock into his mouth. It only takes a few minutes before I’m firing down his throat like a fire hose.

Jesse flips me around and leans me against the warm and wet tile wall and slides his soapy cock in my ass. I know it must have hurt that first instant, but I know I was a lot more turned on than I was uncomfortable. Jesse’s not as easy to get off as I was so we’re going at it quit a while. The wet Brillo fur of his chest on my mountainous back rubs me the right way, and I get time to get off a few more times myself.

Jesse drops me off at home after the Y. When my mom gets home she asks me about my day. I know the whole experience is a life changer because it’s the first time I really can’t talk about any part of it with my folks. I also start to wonder what’s next. Neither Frank nor Jesse gave me any contact information. They know how to find me, but both of them could disappear tonight and I’d never see them again. Still I expect that they wouldn’t have bothered to hunt me down if there wasn’t more to this deal than one afternoon of sex.

Circus of Freaks - Chapter 5

2009-01-18T13:50:00.000-08:00

The freakishness continues at the circus. Don't worry. I still haven't forgotten chapter 3. It's just not ready yet.

(c) 2009 Josef Howard

None of the men of the circus understand how the purple hash changes us, just as none of us understand why it affects us differently. Increased muscle mass and exaggerated primary sexual characteristics are a constant, but sometimes it changes us in other ways as well. One man might grow fur and another might grow wings. Some of us think its effects are affected by our individual or collective fantasies. There is no question of the affect that witnessing the changes have on the average man in our audience.

My name is John. When I joined the circus a few years ago in my teens I was scrawny and bookish, obsessed with the pulp fantasies. My father took me into the men’s show tent to shake me out of my daydreams, to show me the excitement of the physical world around me, but the show shook him up more than me. He couldn’t talk about it afterwards. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I ran away from home by the end of the week to join the circus.

The entire tent is pitch black as the MC announces my act. When the spotlight illuminates me, I stand alone wrapped in a long cloak without sleeves, half again as tall as the average performer, my shaved head shining in the bright light.

One mighty muscled arm slides through slits in the black cloak, then another. I shake the blood into them as I loosen up, and then I begin to flex them, allowing the audience to appreciate their size and shape. The veins rise to the surface and the muscles look as smooth and hard as ivory, yet limber and strong. My teeth glint in the stage lights as I smile with pride.

And then, as my arms dance in the air around me, captivating the men with their fluid movement, something stirs inside my cloak. The movement beneath unsettles it from around my neck and it flutters to the stage. But no one is looking at my cloak. All eyes are riveted on the second pair of arms that unfold and dance in harmony with the first. The reason for my extra height is obvious now. An ordinary man’s torso ends at his waist, but beneath mine is another equally muscular set of shoulders, my second set of arms, and another chest.

As I flex my upper body, the audiences gasps, and their appreciation makes something else stir beneath the black, loose-fitting pants that ride on my hips. My posing slows as I allow my attention to drift below my waist. I watch as my trousers rise. I rock my hips gently to encourage the flow of blood to my snake. I reach my lower right hand under the loose elastic and squeeze and tug at it, sharing my pleasure with the men in the tent. With my lower left hand I reach deeper and fish out the end, pulling, pulling until two feet of thickly veined cock flesh flops out above the straining waist band.

Although by this time the audience has seen equally well endowed men on this same stage, they are plainly not jaded. They look at it in awe, their mouths wide open and dribbling, as I twist and twirl it like the rope it resembles.

Now from the darkness outside the spotlight steps the man they have seen just a few minutes before who has proven his ability to devour cocks like this with unsurpassed ease. He lays at my feet and slowly raises his head up, engulfing the thick knob at the end with his mouth, then vacuuming inch after inch inside his throat as he raises himself up higher. My cock swells and stiffens like a board as he succeeds, making his task increasingly difficult the further he goes, but his lips pull his mouth up along the shaft like a snake’s, without regard to the capacity of his distended throat.

When at last it is all inside of him, I start to withdraw and to thrust, taking advantage of him the way he wants me to. The tiny veins in his muscular neck pop in stress as I fuck him and he turns red for lack of oxygen. At last I withdraw completely and as his chest heaves he catches his breath. Still I bury his gasping lips in my groin.

His hot breath causes something else to stir. I slide my lower hands under the elastic waist band. My pants slide over my hips and drop to the floor, revealing an equally thick rope of cock flesh below the first, and under both and array of four lemon-sized testicles inside a wrinkly skin purse. The imaginations of the men are enthralled to the possibilities of pleasure.

The sword swallower laps at the newly discovered cock flesh with his tongue and then begins a second ascent, seducing it as thoroughly as he had seduced the first. But this time I wrap all four of my meaty hands around the top cock and work it with all my might. That only sends the blood racing into its twin all the faster.

The sword swallower pauses again to catch his breath as my twins bob in front of his face and I play with them both with all four of my hands in every combination of potential attention. Then my compatriot sets himself at his task again, beginning this time with both enormous heads and straining as he devours both of me more slowly than before, but just as deliberately.

It is a sight that no one in the audience will likely see again in their lifetimes, and it elicits unprecedented enthusiasm as strangers go wild on each other, uncontrollably fighting for release even as they are unable to take their eyes off us. Before the sword swallower can satisfy me, every knob in the house has squirted, filling the tent with such an intense scent of spunk it finally sends me over the edge as well, squirting simultaneously inside the stomach of sword swallower. Then freed of his confines, pouring more of my cum out on the stage in thick volleys that spray into the front row.

One Hundred and One - Wolverine Fan

2008-11-23T07:55:00.000-08:00

A few months ago I posted a chapter on the Evolution Forum to a continuing story I started earlier in the year called One Hundred and One. The idea with One Hundred and One is that a group of guys at a college campus were injected with what they thought were flu shots, but they were actually unwitting test subjects for a muscle growth serum that a campus doctor was testing. The doctor gets them all together to tell them and suggests they form a support group. My idea was that each of the guys had a story to tell during subsequent support group meetings about how his personal muscle growth and the way it affected his life. This would become a sort of muscle growth version of the arabian Thousand and One Nights stories, but I wouldn't feel like I was on the hook to write them all.

Anyway after several people went off in different directions, I posted another chapter of my own about a guy named Cal -- a short furry guy who was a Wolverine Fan. I figured his background would make him a little different than the average WASPy college kids and make an interesting story. But I never realized how popular he would become. I think I got more comments on that chapter about Cal than I had on any other story I ever posted. Even though my self imposed rule on the series was that each character appears only once, I got lots of requests to have Cal return.

Things like that stick in the back of my mind. Eventually I start to envision how I might accomodate the request. The truth is I am a comic fan myself, and my first lover was a short furry guy who was a Wolverine Fan, so I kind of liked Cal too.

This story fragment is in answer to those requests. There is more to come. I know where I want to go from here, and hopefully it won't take me too long to pick it up and finish it. In the meantime, since the first part is relatively self contained, I thought I may as well post it, since there was quite a drought on this blog over the last few weeks.

One Hundred and One --Lonewolf Part II

The guys who’d been coming regularly to the support group recognized Cal right away when he stepped forward at the meeting. Cal was one of the guys who told his story in the early meetings, and he had a distinctive look. He was the shortest guy in the group – only about five foot six – and not only really hairy, he was one of the most muscular guys in the group. He was three hundred pounds and zero body fat. His upper arms were as big as his head. If you like little hairy guys and you love muscle, he was a soaking wet dream on two tree trunk legs.

It was one of those rare warm days in October and he’d come to the meeting in just a black tank and mid calf baggy shorts. Only they weren’t baggy on Cal. They were as tight as his tank top, and they exposed his furry, watermelon-sized calves. His chest hair was like a freaking carpet that thinned around his clavicle and at his deltoids to a sparse forest that covered every inch of exposed skin.

He sat at the chair at the front of the room and leaned forward, bracing his tank-sized torso with his elbows on his knees. Bending his arms forward like that made his biceps pop up bigger than cantaloupes, made his upper arms bigger than his head. He grinned.

“You probably figured you’d already heard my story a few months ago,” he said. “I admit it sounded pretty complete. I told you all about my shot at the clinic, my explosive muscle growth and the change in my sex life. What more could there be, right? But there’s more. Some of you might have even read about it in the campus daily, or seen it on the local TV news.”

Cal’s hairy hand brushed a dangling lock of coal black hair from in front of his square Polish face and hooked it behind his ear.

“I can hardly believe what happened to me after I told you my story the first time and I’m a freaking comic book fan. I’m used to strange stories. Most of my life I’ve expected the unusual to happen, but my life since then has been un-fucking-believable!

“How many of you are in a frat? Yeah? Not many. I know I never thought I’d be asked to join. I was just too fucking geeky until last year. But a few weeks into last semester I couple of hot jocks corner me as I’m walking to class and started talking to me – guys who would never even have said hello to me in the old days.

“But the really freaky thing is that even though they acted straight both of them were checking me out. Every time I locked eyes with one of them, the other one was looking me over – even staring at my crotch. It made grin like a Cheshire cat, and inside my pants my dick stirred as I looked into the tall one’s pale blue eyes. I gave quite a show to his pal, who was not as handsome, but still fuckable.

“The two of them asked me all that straight guy shit – what sports did I play; what was my major. They made a big deal about what a chick magnet I must be, but of course guys always think girls are into muscle, but girls always get scared of guys our size. But I let ‘em think I was just between women, playing the field.

“That weekend they had me over to their frat house at a big party with lots of women and beer. The whole house was so into me I could hardly circulate. Have you guys ever noticed how straight jocks are like school girls when it comes to big guys like us? Every where I stood there were ten guys milling around asking me questions and struggling to keep my attention.

“A week later they voted me in the frat. The tall guy with the blue eyes – Steven – was president. He kicked his roommate out and put me in the big room with him. He had the biggest crush on me. Every night when we turned out the lights he chatted me up in the dark like some school girl. When I undressed in front of him his eyes drilled holes into me. The first time I took off my under shorts in front of him and let my dick flop in full view he gulped in disbelief. Not a surprise, right? What normal guy wouldn’t be intimated by fifteen inch cock flesh? I’m sure he wondered just how big it got when it was angry, you know?

“Steven kept saying his girl friend had this friend they could introduce me to, but I got the idea what he wanted was for the four of us to end up in his room fucking so he could watch me get my rocks off.

“One weekend near winter break when most of the guys had gone home, Steven brought in this straight porno DVD and a half dozen joints. We both got shit-faced and then he popped in the DVD and we sat on the floor at the foot of his bed and watched. Steven started massaging his dick through his sweat pants and it was pretty impressive for a regular guy. He took off his shirt. He has this tightly muscled body that’s really hot – kind of like a fitness model – with hard abs. Although Steven was watching the movie as he rubbed himself, I could see in the mirror that he kept glancing at me. I kept my cool. I watched the movie and even though I prefer guys, my dick was pretty stiff. It filled out along my thigh inside my pant leg like a third leg, but I didn’t touch it. Not yet. I wanted to tease him. I wanted Steven to want me to touch it so bad that he almost reached over to touch it himself.

“Still I’m only human and after it while it was so hard inside my pants it hurt. I tugged down my jeans and up popped all nineteen inches, all the way to my chin. That was when Steven stopped watching the movie and started watching me.

“I kept my eyes on the television as I jacked my huge cock with both hands, but Steven turned to face me as he masturbated. Then, slowly, he put his hand on the top half of my cock and started helping me. Then the other one. Four hands weren’t enough to do it justice, but they sure felt better than two.

“Steven abandoned pretense. He sat down in front of me. He leaned into my cock and licked the head. Then he took the whole knob in his mouth and in another couple seconds he was sucking as much as he could handle while I encouraged my straight jock roommate with a hand on the back of his neck.

“And so began my low key affair with Steven. Hardly a night when by after that one without Steven reaching into my shorts and helping me cream. Sometimes he only used his hands, but most of the time he tried to suck it. The longer it went on the better at it he got. He never got much more than half inside his throat, but half is fucking good. I kept the mystery up about the rest of my sex life so he thought I was straight, and from what I could tell the sex with his girl friend only got more intense as a result of our affair. I think he got off fucking her imagining he was me, you know?

“But the story about Steven and the frat isn’t why I wanted to speak tonight. The rest of the story is the spectacular part.

“Is it hot in here?” Cal asked. “Does anybody care if I take my shirt off? I didn’t think so.” Cal was a magnificent fur rug down the front of his torso, but even with all that hair you could appreciate the balloon size pecs and the thick divisions between his abs. Leaning forward he looked like he was pushing out a ‘most muscular’ as he continued his story. There wasn’t a dry crotch in the room, and several of the big guys made a mental note to give him their number after the meeting was over.

Circus of Freaks

2008-11-22T13:14:00.000-08:00

Earlier chapters are posted on my website. This chapter shifts focus from Billy to a new visitor to the circus and introduces new types of freaks. The focus of future chapters will be additional freaks.

(c) 2008 Josef Howard

Chapter Four
Reverend Williams was a man as strong of body as he was of spirit. Although his black minister’s frock covered his body from the backwards collar at his neck to his ankles, exposing only his hands and his head, it was easy to see the power of his body. He came from a family of hard laborers. His grandfather had worked the fields of the old country. His father was a farmer who still plowed his fields with a horse, though some men in the state had begun to use tractors. His brother worked on a loading dock.

Reverend Williams was almost six feet tall, taller than almost every man in his parish, and broad backed with powerful shoulders. Hair curled up from beneath his stiff collar and covered the backs of his hands. When he ministered to his congregation and gesticulated behind the pulpit, his arms and shoulders bunched powerfully beneath his frock, straining the fabric so much that occasionally he tore a seam.

Though he was crudely handsome and almost thirty-five he was not married. There were no single women in his parish, and Reverend Williams would not marry a woman who did not share his faith.

When the circus came to the small farming community, the reverend was dubious. He did not trust circus people and feared they would tempt the weak members of his flock. So it was in the interest of his flock that the reverend went to the circus the first day to see for himself the entertainment that was offered, so that he could warn his church, if need be, against its dangers.

As he entered the gate he was pleased to be greeted warmly by the stalwart man who took his ticket, and further pleased at the hearty men he saw manning the booths, every one of them strong, powerful men like himself whose bodies were a testament to their hard labor. The games he observed appeared to be fair, and he noticed there were no loose women in this circus to tempt the devoted husbands into fornication.

But when Reverend Williams came to the large tent at the edge of the circus that was festooned with pictures of suggestively dressed women, his suspicions seemed confirmed. Yet he knew he would need to experience what was inside first hand if he were to preach against it on Sunday. His face dark with anger, the reverend paid the two bit admission as he looked closely for faces he recognized in the line behind him. He was not worried about who saw him; he wanted to know who in his flock he must chastise.

The tent filled with boisterous men, crowded near the stage. The lights inside dimmed. A dark figure walked on stage and was suddenly lit by a bright spotlight. He smiled broadly at the crowd. He wore a black tuxedo but strangely he wore no shirt. The open front of his tuxedo jacket exposed musculature the reverend had only seen on the men of his own family – thick billowing chest muscles separated by a deep division at the breast bone and cut horizontally by the clear separation of his upper, middle and lower pectoral muscles. From his breast bone to his waist, his stomach was deeply etched with eight tightly packed smooth stones of abdominal muscle. Besides his own father and brother and himself, Reverend Williams had not seen such a stomach. None of the men in his parish were so tightly muscled, nor as well defined, though they worked every day but the Sabbath in their fields.

The bright light shown in the eyes of this master of ceremonies, yet in the face of it, the man picked the reverend out of the audience and spoke to him.

“You, sir! You are a man of the cloth?”

“Yes, sir. I am,” the reverend shouted proudly.

“Then come to the stage, please.”

The reverend hesitated. Although he was not ashamed to do the Lord’s work ferreting out immorality to protect his flock, he feared that being seen on to the stage might weaken his moral authority when he spoke against what he was about to see. But he was the Lord’s warrior. He could not appear to be timid. So he walked proudly up the stairs and took a position next to the MC, but so that he did not appear to endorse the proceedings, he did not smile. He answered his questions, but he did not banter with the man. He stared straight into the audience, as solemnly as he did from his pulpit.

As they spoke the reverend heard the beating of great wings above and in front of them. He searched for the source of the sound and saw a winged man descending from the air above the crowd, not on ropes, but by the power of his own ivory feathered wings. He landed between the reverend and the audience, and in the bright lights focused on the stage, Reverend Williams could see that he was naked. Yet his form was not obscene. It was the most beautiful, most perfect masculine form that God had ever created, framed but wings that arced high above his head and reached all the way to his ankles as they rested behind him.

His hair was as yellow as gold. His face was pure and strong. His body was as well muscled as the MC’s, but completely without hair, save for a light golden haze. Though he thought it impolite, Reverend Williams could not help but stare at the creature’s crotch, for he was completely naked, and his penis was immense! It was bigger by far than that he had seen on his father, though he knew his father had been unusually well endowed by God.

As the creature walked toward Reverend Williams, the thick, wide muscles of his legs flexed and tensed, and his smooth buttocks bounced as his weight shifted. The MC disappeared into the darkness on the stage. The reverend fell to his knees before the creature and clasped his hands in prayer to the almighty, his eyelids clenched tightly.

“Creature from heaven! Forgive my frailty in thy presence!” the reverend cried out across the hushed tent.

“Do not fear thy God, nor his servant, faithful one,” the creature answered in the deepest, most authoritative voice the minister had ever heard. “Your righteousness and service of our Lord is well known in heaven.”

The creature had stopped just inches from Reverend Williams, and he laid his broad, thickly veined hand on the reverend’s head. The reverend opened his eyes and raised his chin, but blushed because his face was only an inch from the base of the creature’s penis. As he looked up into the face of this perfect creature of God, the thick flesh began to stir and to swell. The reverend leaned back, not only to give it room, but to avoid untoward contact with the creature’s holiness. But the angel of God did not want him to shy away. He held the reverend’s head from recoiling and moved his hips to brush the base of his thickening cock against the reverend’s lips.

“Touch me, faithful one,” said the creature as his cock rose. “Do not be shy with thy God’s holy servant.”

Reverend Williams suppressed his inhibitions and wrapped his strong, hairy hand around the angel’s swelling cock. He tugged on it as he knew he would have wanted someone to have tugged on his own, and it filled out even more, straightening to a ninety degree angle from the angel’s flat stomach and pointing past the side of the reverend’s head.

“Taste me,” the angel said.

And although the reverend knew that such acts between men were immoral, this was not a man. This was a more perfect being, a servant of God, and nothing it instructed him to do could be evil. The reverend obliged, taking – at first – just the head of the creature’s foot and a half long cock into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, tasting the acrid flesh. The angel moaned and he steadied the reverend’s head as he pushed more of himself into his mouth, then deeper into his throat. Reverend Williams relaxed his throat muscles and submitted to the angel, offering as much of himself to him as he could.

The crowd stared in rapt attention, silently, reverently, certain they witnessed communion of man with the divine, their eyes wide, their mouths open, their crotches bulging with excitement. Never had a religious experience been also so visceral.

The angel became more enthusiastic. He plunged deeper inside Reverend Williams and fucked his face harder. The reverend obliged by sucking harder along the steely shaft and slobbering over it. At last he emptied his holy seed down the reverend’s throat as his wings fluttered and he gasped for air. The reverend swallowed as much as he could, but copious amounts of the angel’s seed sprayed all over the reverend’s vestments. When the angel was finished, he put his hands under Reverend Williams’ arms and raised him to his feet. He planted his lips firmly on the reverend’s mouth and gave him a masculine kiss. Then he retreated, his wings flapped and he rose into the air, disappearing into the darkness.

A deep chorus of praise filled the tent. “Amens” and “Hallelujahs”. The reverend dropped to one knee, clasped his hands together and prayed.

But as his lips moved in near silent communication with God, another kind of flapping was heard in the air above – not wings of feather, but of leather – and a darker creature, just as powerfully built landed behind the kneeling reverend.

As he walked into the light the crowd gasped. The reverend opened his eyes and stood to face the dark skinned creature with leather wings and the curled horns of a ram. As strong as the angel had been, this creature appeared even more powerful. His chest was even broader and decorated by a thick thatch of fur at the cleft that gathered and dove down his rippled abs to his hairy groin. His arms were as big around as his head and his thighs were broader than his waist. Swinging malevolently between them with an independent gait was a cock even longer than that of the angel. The creature smiled at Reverend Williams, exposing pearly white teeth sharp as knifes and baring incisor fangs like a vampire bat’s.

“Now that you have tasted seed, holy one, perhaps it is time for you to be filled with the thick, sticky scum of real masculinity. Don’t step away,” he warned, “I can move much faster than you.” And before the reverend could take another step, the demon had moved like lightning and closed the gap between them. He held both his wrists together, and tore at the front of his frock with his long nails, exposing Reverend Williams brawny chest, which was still hairier than his aggressor.

The demon tore away the reverend’s shredded clothing. The reverend tried to pull his hands free, but the demon’s grip was too tight. The reverend kicked at him but even direct blows to his groin had no effect. Instead the demon became aroused and his cock swelled and squirmed in a macabre dance. When it had reached a length of two feet, the demon twisted the naked and full muscled reverend around and bent him over. He positioned himself at the reverend’s ass and – with his free hand – he guided his barbed cock inside.

The reverend shouted in pain and cried out for salvation. As he had willingly submitted to the angel, so was he forced to submit to the demon. The audience stood frozen in horror as the demon fucked him. Yet as he was filled far more than he thought possible, he was granted a warmth from heaven above, a raw sensation that began to excite him and made him greet the demon’s onslaught, accepting it as a penance for his life’s sins. Reverend Williams felt his cock stiffen as he gave in. It swelled up so hard it bounced against his tight abs and began to dribble precum. As the demon’s thrusts became more forceful, the revered began to shake all over. His muscular body became hard as a rock as he braced himself against the onslaught. The demon cried out, and the reverend’s cock began to ejaculate. The creature withdrew and the reverend fell to the stage floor at his feet. The demon grinned at his conquest and laughed.

Just then, above the laughter, the audience heard the sound of wings flapping. The angel landed on stage. Angel and demon stared each other off, the crumbled man between them.

“Demon! How dare you defile a man of God?” the angel shouted at the leather winged creature who stood defiantly behind the minister, his powerful arms crossed over his broadly muscled chest as he grinned. The angel dove at him. Their hands locked above their heads. The angel’s wings beat as he struggled to gain the upper hand and push the demon to the floor, but the demon was obviously more muscular and held him at bay. Like two arm wrestlers locked upright, struggling for dominance, the angel and demon trembled, their veins swelled, the angel’s pale skin reddened. Through clenched teeth the angel began to speak, at first under his breath, slowly louder, but no intelligible words, and as his voice began to carry over the crowd, his wild musculature began to swell with new power. The haughty expression on the demon’s face melted into uncertainty, but as the angel’s body began to exceed the thickness of his own, the demon’s face began to betray panic. And between the angel’s thickening thighs, his massive penis had swollen as well, lifting straight up between them. An expression of supreme peace came over the angel’s face. The demon fell backwards with the angel on top of him, pummeling him with fists like sledge hammers against his dark leathery skin. The demon clawed to freedom and leapt into the air, beating his wings.

The angel stood still, watching him fly away. Then he turned to the reverend, still as big and aroused as he was when he had defeated the evil one, and picked the immense man up in his arms as though he was light as a pillow. His feathery wings beat at the air and lifted them both into the air.

Reverend Williams was too exhausted and too ashamed to keep his eyes open. He nuzzled into the cradling arms of his supremely powerful savior as the angel flew to a shadowy platform high in the tent, away from the crowd. The angel lay him down. The reverend’s eyes fluttered open. The crowd was applauding, roaring. The MC was speaking about something else by now and the titanic struggle between good and evil that the reverend had witnessed first hand was almost forgotten.

“How can I ever be forgiven for what I have been a party to?” the reverend said to the angel, looking up at him through teary eyes.

“What has been done has not been done by you, but to you, servant of God,” the angel said in his deep, comforting, resonant voice. “But even had you participated willingly, had you done it out of appreciation for the beauty of god’s creation, it would not have been a sin.”

The reverend’s face blanched. He saw the full heft of the angel’s stiff member still standing straight up above his crumpled body and he began to doubt the truth of the angel’s origins, for he knew that even Satan can appear as the Lord of Light.

“The laws of the book that you teach were abrogated by His son, servant of God – replaced by the admonition to love one another. Physical love is one facet of that love. It is not lust when it is not destructive.”

Though his moral guard was alert, there was sense to the angel’s words, and the warm blood that pumped through the reverend’s body at the sight of the angel’s magnificence and made his skin tingle merely underlined the argument. The truth was that the reverend’s own staff had stiffened again at the sight of the angel’s extra large bare body and at his firm grip as he had carried him into the air. It bounced like an enthusiastic child against his breast bone, thick and moist. Though the reverend rarely gave himself over to pleasuring it, for fear of losing himself in lust, the experiences of the day had given the reverend a new appetite. His mouth was dry and tingly. He licked his lips and the angel moved closer, allowing the reverend to suckle on the angel’s cock again. The angel’s body obliged him with sour wetness that coated his tongue and made him thirsty for his juice. Once again the reverend strained to accommodate all of it inside his mouth and the angel struggled to help him, but since the angel’s struggle with the demon his cock had grown to the equal of his dark twin, making it impossible. Before the reverend struggled too long, the angel pulled away, turned from him and dropped to all fours, his wings extended over his mountainously muscled back and his huge, high, round ass arched upward for the reverend’s appreciation.

“No!” the reverend shouted, even as his thick prick trembled with anticipation of penetration.

“I give myself to you freely. What I ask will be as pleasurable for me as it is for you, servant of God, and the act will honor our creator.”

Whether by the loss of will or the force of gravity, the reverend’s groin began to fall toward the crack between the angel’s smooth mounds of creamy flesh. The reverend’s cock gurgled pre-cum. He wiped it down the shaft and toyed with the concept of breaching the entrance to the angel’s ass by positioning himself there and rubbing its head in the deep fuzzy cleft.

He allowed himself the indulgence of sliding the head inside and felt every muscle of his rough hewn body tense in extreme delight. The angel tossed his thick neck from side to side and jerked backwards, ending the reverend’s indecision. He was inside and surfeited with such bliss that he could no longer conceive of retreat. One more backward push on the angel’s part was all the reverend needed to start his gentle rocking fuck into and out of the angel’s ass.

The reverend rubbed his rough hands over the immensity of the angel’s back and his tightly muscled waist and allowed himself to hold and caress his two foot cock as it quivered from his onslaught.

The reverend had never allowed himself physical pleasure with another creature, not even before he took on the cloth, not even as a horny young boy with a wild streak that his father had beaten out of him. The ecstasy along his penis and the pure pleasure that washed over his beefy body was inconceivably delightful. He could not imagine that he had lived so long and denied himself these sensations. He wondered briefly if sex with a woman was as intense, but he knew in an instant that nothing would top this for him. He realized why it had been so easy for him to deny himself the pleasures of women for so long.

As he fucked the angel, he felt the angel’s fleshy spear harden in his hands. He felt the angel thrusting back into him more frantically and finally releasing himself on the platform beneath them. The wet, pungent liquid that poured from him and coated the reverend’s hands weakened Reverend William’s resistance to his own ultimate pleasure. It sent him over the edge, pounding without control and filling the angel with the gism of a thousand unclaimed orgasms.

Carniceria - the end

2008-09-20T14:51:00.000-07:00

If you a squeamish about this story, I suggest you don't read this chapter. Although there is no violence, some might find the treatment of the subject disturbing.

In any case you probably want to read the chapter below that I posted earlier today BEFORE you read this one. It sets the stage and is less shocking.

Miguel locked the front door and hung the “Closed” sign. He came back to the storage room and they lay on the floor on their sides facing each other, still naked, Jonah was still stiff. Jonah rested his head on his arm, but Miguel propped his head up with on hand as he tugged at Jonah’s hard cock with his other hand, occasionally kissing or licking his body. Although Miguel was nonchalant as he worked his friend over, the attention kept Jonah distracted.

“Have you ever wondered what makes the meat we sell special?” Miguel asked.

Jonah struggled to divide his attention between Miguel’s words and the attention Miguel was giving his dick. “Not really,” he gasped.

Miguel chuckled. “You gringos are all alike. You never consider the work behind what you enjoy.” He lapped at Jonah’s nipple, which made Jonah thrust into his hand. “The meat is infused with a live bacterial culture. The bacteria are symbiotic with human muscle. They force muscle growth and increase the size of the muscle to make their home bigger. There are some other pleasant side effects as well. The man’s hormones go into overdrive and the imbalance usually makes a man more attracted to muscle than to women.”

Jonah closed his eyes. He heard want Miguel said. He even understood it, but the movement of Miguel’s hand on his dick was driving him wild. He wanted to cum badly, but he also wanted to enjoy the dick massage he was getting and just let it happen when it happened.

“It only takes one serving of meat infused with the bacteria to infect a man with it. After that it doesn’t matter whether he eats meat with the bacteria again or not. It only matters how much protein he eats and how fast. The more he eats, the bigger his muscles get until he reaches his limit, but the limit is much greater than most men imagine. Look at you. What do you weigh? Three seventy-five? Three eighty?”

“Three…ninety…” Jonah managed to answer.

“My problem is that the culture only lives in human muscle.”

Jonah clenched his teeth. His cock jerked and squirted on Miguel’s stomach and the floor between them. Jonah regained his breath. He laid a hand on his new lover’s shoulder.

“What are you saying? The magic meat is human flesh?”

“The flesh of men like yourself who allow the culture to thrive inside their bodies.”

“The men that you bring here to fuck – Eric – the man you fucked last night – these men are the meat?”

“Exactly.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Jonah started to push away, to sit up and disengage, but Miguel pulled him down to lie next to him.

“You have a decision to make. You need to decide how you will contribute to the business. You can either choose to become my full partner with all that you know or you can give yourself to me the other way.”

Jonah’s eyes were wide. He could not believe that Miguel was saying. He could not believe this man that he cared for could murder his lovers in cold blood and then serve them as food to other men. He could not believe that he had eaten other men. He could not believe he was still laying here beside Miguel, that he had not fled or restrained him until the authorities arrived. He was frozen. Unable to believe anything.

“This is not a decision I have ever given other men, my little friend. It was not a choice I thought I would ever give another man, but at every moment I thought you might give me what the others gave to me, you touched me in a way the others did not, and I found myself offering you something different, step by step drawing you closer to me, cherishing you, even though letting this go on between us is a great risk to me and my family.”

Jonah expected he should felt sick at the thought of having eaten human flesh, but he didn’t. He didn’t feel anything, except continuing lust for the dark haired stud that lay beside him making him a devil’s bargain. “You want me to join you? You want me to help you? To take more lives and continue this?”

“I know you find this distasteful right now, but it is because you learned of this so suddenly. But when you consider it, you will see it is not so evil.” Miguel began to tug on Jonah’s cock again. It had withered a bit as the conversation went on, but the touch of Miguel’s hand was still irresistible.

Against his will, Jonah found himself responding, swelling. His heartbeat quickened. He wanted this from Miguel. How could he accept the affections of someone so cruel? But that was just it. Jonah couldn’t imagine that Miguel was cruel. “All men die, and the stuff of their bodies returns to the earth, which in turn feeds the plants, which feed the animals which feed other men. How could it be a sin to merely take a few short cuts in this circle of life? Especially when it affords the men it serves so much pleasure, even if most of their lives are cut short? If a man had come to you months ago and said you could experience all that you have since then but only if you allowed him to shorten your life, would you not have accepted that bargain, if you could truly have understood what you would experience?”

Miguel kissed Jonah’s chest, his stomach, and then tasted his cock. Jonah steadied himself on Miguel’s head and shoulders as he allowed him to devour him. This pleasure they gave each other – the incredible feelings he had felt over the last few months as his body grew bigger, harder, stronger beyond anyone’s imagination, and the feelings he had as he enjoyed the affect his body had on other men – it had a price. Some men paid with their lives. He was being asked to give up something else.

Miguel’s sucking became more vigorous, more intense, as though his fellatio was just another element of his argument. Jonah felt himself losing control of his feelings, his body, his morality. His body stiffened and suddenly he went over the edge. His resistance had ended.

Carniceria - and more still

2008-09-20T14:14:00.000-07:00

I apologize for the glacial pace of updates in the last few weeks. Sometimes you just go through a creative lull...

Business at the Carniceria quadrupled after the men from Jonah’s gym became regulars, and yet none of the new customers became long term customers. They came every week for a few weeks. They exploded in size, they told all their friends about the shop and then suddenly they stopped coming in. They even stopped going to the gym. It was as if they reached a certain size and decided they didn’t need to be any bigger. Although he couldn’t understand that mentality himself, Jonah considered it was a kind of compliment to the store that the men were able to achieve their goals so quickly and then devote themselves to different pursuits.

As for himself and Robin, Jonah still thought “the bigger the better”. Whether it was because he gained muscle easier or because he ate more voraciously, Robin put on size even more rapidly than Jonah had. By the end of his first month he had put on more than fifty pounds. Before long Jonah’s attraction to Robin’s sweet boyishness was supplanted by ribald lust for his outrageously bold muscle mass. He may have been seventy pounds lighter than Jonah, but the natural shape of his muscles, the exaggerated outward sweep of his thighs, the incredible fullness of the muscle bellies of his biceps, made him the most stunning man Jonah had ever seen. Still Robin lost none of his admiration for Jonah, who by then had reached 340 pounds, and who Robin had begun to affectionately call “Jonah the Whale”.

Because of the snowball effect of Jonah’s initial referrals, Miguel expanded the hours at the Carniceria and paid Jonah to work those extra hours. Though Jonah still kept most of his things in storage and had still not rented another apartment, he was no longer strapped for cash. He moved out of his former co-worker’s apartment and moved in with Robin. The two of them ate out more, bought nicer clothes and household furnishings.

One evening as Jonah was cleaning up and closing the shop he heard the front door open. He turned and saw Miguel leading one of the biggest men he had ever seen – a man he recognized from his gym – into the shop by his hand.

Miguel smiled broadly at Jonah as they walked in.

The man from his gym, Eric, had been one of the quiet ones before he became a customer, someone who had toiled at the gym four times a week for years, making modest progress. Since Eric rarely joked around with the boisterous young men who chatted up the women, Jonah often wondered if Eric was gay, but Eric had never looked twice at him, even after Jonah exploded with muscle. Eric heard about the Carniceria from someone else at the gym, not Jonah, but he became one of their most dedicated customers, consuming as much fresh meat as a lion, and he grew more quickly that anyone Jonah had ever seen, putting on so much size that he rivaled Jonah in girth.

Jonah had plenty of opportunity to appreciate how big Eric had grown as he walked into the shop without a shirt, wearing only what were meant to be baggy blue jeans that fit Eric like a second skin in the thighs and the ass. They bunched at the knees, but his cantaloupe calves stretched the rest of the leggings down to the ankles. He looked like a blond version of Li’l Abner. As he walked in the shop trailing Miguel, he kept his eyes shyly downcast. Just once he looked up at Jonah as Miguel led him into the back room for their assignation.

Jonah saw Miguel drag a new man into the back room for a fuck session at least once a week, but he rarely saw him with the same man twice. Jonah figured Miguel wanted to avoid getting involved, since Miguel was still married and seemed to love his diminutive wife and children.

As Miguel dropped Eric’s hand long enough to push open the swinging door to the back room, Jonah noticed a gold wedding band on Eric’s hand. Why hadn’t he ever seen that before? What a perfect hook up for Miguel – another man who wouldn’t want a relationship, just a good pummeling by Miguel’s gigantic dick.

Jonah envied him, getting a shot at the man Jonah had lusted the past several months, the man who successfully kept him at arm’s length sexually even as he made small inroads as a friend and a business associate. Jonah thought he wouldn’t mind an occasional casual fuck with Miguel himself, even if he was still delighted by his relationship with Robin.

As the back room door closed behind them, Miguel told Jonah he didn’t have to finish cleaning. “I’ll close up in a while myself. You go enjoy what is left of tonight,” he said as he smiled and winked.

Jonah set the broom against the wall. He would have put it away in the back room, but he didn’t want to interrupt the two of them. He could hear them kissing already. He could hear clothing come off. He could hear an appreciative moan. Surreptitiously, Jonah grabbed a quick glance through the oval window on the swinging door to the back room.

Eric was tugging energetically on Miguel’s extra thick foot long cock as the two of them locked mouths, and Miguel was manhandling Eric’s cock, which was almost as big. It made Jonah even more envious to see that the two of them were so well matched. He stepped away from the window so he wouldn’t be seen, then stepped several feet away from it. He turned out the lights so he wouldn’t be seen and watched as Eric knelt in front of Miguel and sucked as much of Miguel’s cock as he could handle.

Jonah thought that if he were given the opportunity his enthusiasm for his boss would have enabled him to swallow the whole thing, even though he’d never had the chance to deep throat a cock that big before. He would have forced himself, not just for Miguel’s pleasure, but as a matter of personal pride, and because he desperately to engulf that monster in his mouth and throat, to own it, if only for a few minutes.

And then Jonah saw Eric try to do just that, using the full force of his bull neck and all the mass of his huge upper body to force his mouth down Miguel’s giant sausage. He got more than two thirds of it inside him, but had to abort, sputtering and gagging on it, but tremendously boned for his attempt.

For an instant Jonah wanted to see him succeed. He even wanted to walk through the door, grab the back of his neck and help force him down on it, although he didn’t know why he would want to help his rival. Inside Jonah’s pants his cock was rock hard.

As Jonah stepped closer to the door a floor board creaked under his weight. Miguel looked in his direction. Jonah thought he might have seen him, but instead of stopping, Miguel looked down on Eric. Jonah stepped away and walked out the shop door, locking it behind him.

It was one of the rare occasions that Jonah’s shifts were back to back. He not only closed the shop that night, he was responsible for opening the next morning. When he unlocked and walked into the back room he saw Miguel trimming meat.

“When did that come in?” Jonah asked.

“Last night. Late. The special meat is only delivered at night,” Miguel said as he continued working.

Come to think of it, Jonah had never accepted a delivery of the special meat they sold so much of, although he had taken delivery of tons of the regular kind.

“Were you up all night?” Jonah asked.

“Most of it,” Miguel said, “But the night was not without its rewards.” He smiled.

“Doesn’t your wife ever mind when you’re out late or don’t come home?” Jonah ventured to ask. Jonah had never questioned Miguel about his relationship with his wife or how Miguel integrated his extracurricular activities into his marriage, but after last night he felt familiar enough with his boss to ask.

“Maria knows when I need to do what I need to do.”

Jonah suddenly felt uncomfortable to have asked. His eyes wandered around the room, and were drawn to the glint of metal through the metal grate of the drain in the floor. Miguel had not stopped his work for an instant as they talked, but Jonah lifted the grate and pulled out what he saw. It was a gold wedding band. He fingered it and held it up for Miguel to see.

“Looks like someone got a little crazy last night and lost something they might miss,” Jonah said.

Miguel froze. Had Jonah finally touched a vein of guilt in his employer?

“Give it to me. I’ll take care of it,” Miguel said. He wiped his bloody hands on his butcher’s apron and set the ring on a clean spot of the butcher table. Then Miguel stood close to Jonah, still. Their eyes met. A moment came for them. It was the moment Jonah had wished forever for. Jonah had Miguel’s complete attention, but seemingly without reason. He leaned into him and kissed him deeply. Jonah kissed him back.

Miguel lifted his loose apron over his head. Jonah tugged his shirt off and stood naked from the waist up, his magnificently muscled arms and chest available for Miguel’s appreciation, his admiration, and open to his love.

Miguel dove into his face more enthusiastically than before, devouring his mouth and tongue with unbridled relish. Jonah’s mind swam. He’d never felt as alive, as aroused as this his entire life. No one, not even Robin, elicited such emotion from him. Jonah unbuttoned Miguel’s shirt and helped him out of it. As their chests touched for the first time, Jonah felt his cock explode inside his pants, but he knew their love making was only just beginning.

Miguel unfastened his pants and let his monster loose. Jonah bent over and took it deeply inside his mouth, then forced himself down on it, pushing it into his throat as enthusiastically and as successfully as he had fantasized.

Miguel lay his hand on Jonah’s head and spoke deeply, sweetly as Jonah lavished attention on his cock. “Oh, my little friend, I have waited so long for this moment. I knew you would not disappoint me. Devour me. Eat me.”

After the first few times, Jonah found it became easier for him to take his long unrequited love deeply inside of him, and it was just as satisfying as he had imagined. Miguel became so hard inside him that Jonah knew it wouldn’t be long before he tasted his juice. He felt the crown of his cock flair as it pierced his air passage. He felt Miguel become more forceful as he fucked his face. He felt the fuzz of his balls tickle his chin. Then he felt the pulse of his orgasm begin at the root of his cock and Miguel began emptying himself.

The two of them stood for a few minutes holding each other, Miguel’s head on Jonah’s huge shoulder. Then Miguel tugged at Jonah’s pants. Jonah helped him remove them. Miguel stepped away and admired the mass of muscle that stood before him. His cock inflated. Jonah sat on the floor, then laid on his back and Miguel lifted his legs. He positioned himself at the entrance to Jonah’s ass and then made his way inside.

The fuck was even more satisfying than their earlier lovemaking. Miguel and Jonah found a rhythm and rocked against each other earnestly, working themselves to a second climax. Miguel grasped Jonah by the wrist and raised his arm above his head. He gathered Jonah’s other arm by the wrist and held the two of them together with one hand as he pawed at Jonah’s stick cock in time to his thrusts. Miguel’s fucking became more frantic and he held Jonah’s arms with both his hands. For a time all of Miguel’s upper body weight held Jonah’s wrists down as Miguel’s cock pounded inside Jonah’s ass. And just as it started to get uncomfortable, Miguel’s thrusts became more irregular, albeit more forceful as he pumped a huge load inside of Jonah’s guts. As the last shiver of orgasm left Miguel’s body, Miguel stared deeply, intently, in Jonah’s eyes, as though he considered something monumental, until Jonah struggled against his hands and Miguel let him up.

Carniceria - still more

2008-07-20T15:08:00.000-07:00

After the first time they fucked, Jonah and Robin became inseparable. Whenever both of them were free from work, they were together, most of the time at home in bed. At the meat market, when Robin came in to buy, he hung around talking to Jonah for at least an hour between Jonah’s work with the other customers. When Miguel was there Jonah worried their chats might be inappropriate while he was on the clock, but hadn’t Miguel done the same thing with him months ago when he first started coming in? Didn’t Miguel do the same thing now with the biggest guys who walked in the door? Was it a symptom of Jonah’s continued feelings for Miguel that made him feel guilty about his relationship with Robin and led him to assume Miguel might be jealous or uncomfortable?

Miguel still called him his “little friend”. He still patted him affectionately on the back. His eyes still lingered on Jonah’s body.

At the end of one of Robin’s long visits, when the shop was empty, Miguel took Jonah aside. Jonah was sure the conversation would be about Robin.

“Robin is very attracted to you, my little friend,” Miguel said. Jonah nodded. “You feel the same way about him?” Jonah said he did. “I am very happy for you both,” Miguel said. “Perhaps you will have with Robin what I have always desired but gave up for my family.”

Jonah heard what Miguel did not say. That Miguel was sad that he had committed himself to a wife and his children instead of a relationship with a man.

“You know that I have not given up completely on my passions,” he continued, “but I will never let them get in the way my family’s happiness.”

Jonah thought the conversation was over. Then Miguel looked up from his work at the butcher table and said, “Can I ask you something?” This was it, Jonah thought. This was what was really on Miguel’s mind. Would he confess his feelings for Jonah? Would he ask him not to go out with Robin anymore?

“Why do you never refer the men from your gym to our shop?” Miguel asked with just as much vulnerability in his voice as if he had asked either of the two things Jonah had thought he would. Plainly the fact that Jonah had not brought in customers had been bothering him.

“I suppose at first I thought what we sold was a secret. Then I supposed that there might only be a limited quantity of it. And lately I have just enjoyed being the biggest motherfucker in town too much to want to share my secret.”

“Have I ever told you to keep it quiet? Have we ever run out? You would be doing me a favor to tell your friends about my shop, little friend. It would not only help me make more money for my family, it would be a sign of your respect for what I do.”

Jonah didn’t know what to say. It was obviously important to Miguel, and Jonah would still do anything for Miguel, anything that did not betray his love of Robin. So of course he agreed to spread the word.

In a matter of weeks most of the men from Jonah’s small gym became customers. Miguel’s business almost doubled as Jonah’s friends told their friends and those friends told others. The character of Jonah’s gym changed as well. Where before there had been the usual mix of office workers struggling to get fit, adult athletes trying to stay fit, and a handful of bigger guys who would never be real bodybuilders, it became a place packed to the gills with giant men, and the preponderance of huge guys discouraged the casual lifters from coming in.

Jonah didn’t mind. He had a huge head start on them all and was still by far the biggest guy. The gym was full of eye candy for him, and damned if it didn’t seem that even the most heterosexual of the men had started to develop eyes for the other big men. The locker room was the cruisiest place in town. It seemed there were more men pairing up with workout partners than before, and they were a little more friendly with each other as they left – pats on the butt, arms around shoulders.

One evening near closing when Jonah was changing clothes, Jonah saw a couple of guys head for one of the shower stalls together. He had thought he was the last man in the gym except the guy at the front desk. They not only chose a shower stall Jonah could see from his locker, they went in the same stall together and left the curtain open.

He heard the water start to spray. He watched as the two of them grew slick, shiny and wet. Jonah knew both men. They were some of his earliest friends at the gym, back when they were all just regular guys. Back they only had eyes for the women. Jonah figured they were still basically straight, but as much as any of them continued to enjoy fucking females, none of the guys who started to get big could control their fascination with other big men as they started to grow themselves.

The taller one was Alfie, a red-headed drummer for a rock bank whose skin was riddled with tattoos. Since he’d become a carniceria customer he had put on one hundred pounds of muscle and his tattoos had been distorted by the bulge of his arms, shoulders, chest and thighs. He’d started playing the drums without his shirt and his band’s club dates had gone through the roof. The shorter one was Kris, a quiet manager at an accounting firm who’d found his voice as his body began to split the seams of his starched white shirts. The two of them never spoke to each other back when Jonah first met them. They had been polar opposites, but the gym’s axis had shifted and now the two had much more in common.

Alfie kissed Kris, sucking gently on his upper lip as he pulled away. Their dicks began to unfurl and inflate with blood. They stretched and rose until they pointed straight up. Kris, the shorter of the two, was the most impressive. Who would have thought that quiet Kris the accountant sported a foot long cock? Watching the two of them tug at each other and suck the water from their bodies, seeing Kris’s cock throb and bounce, was making it more difficult for Jonah to get dressed. He was not only distracted; it was getting more difficult for him to pull his under shorts up.

Kris looked his way, his chin low, his eyes wide, his mouth open, admiring Jonah’s sweeping, wide shoulders and his massive pecs, thirsty for his gargantuan arms. His obvious lust for Jonah only heightened Jonah’s arousal, and though Jonah and Robin had not yet made their relationship officially exclusive, Jonah felt guilty. But it didn’t keep his cock from starting to leak with longing for a taste of Kris’s dick; it didn’t keep Jonah from tugging on it as he watched Alfie maneuver behind Kris. It didn’t keep Jonah from gently jerking it as Alfie thrust inside Kris and Kris’s bone jerked in the air. And ultimately it didn’t keep him from walking slowly into the shower wearing his underwear below his hard-on, kneeling at Kris’s feet and slurping on his quivering dick.

With the addition of Jonah, whose build now rivaled that of a Mack truck, there was barely enough room for the three of them in the shower stall. Alfie was forced into the corner, shortening his frantic thrusts into his new buddy’s ass, but pinned between Alfie and Jonah, Kris was in heaven watching the mountain range that descended down Jonah’s back from his four foot wide shoulders as he felt Jonah’s mouth working his long cock, struggling to get it as deep inside his throat as he could. It took all of Jonah’s self control, and much of his strength to force it down, but after he’d taken it all once, he was filled with giant cock lust and determined to deep throat it every time he sucked it in. In a matter of seconds, with Alfie pounding into his behind and Jonah devouring his dick, Kris began to squirt down Jonah’s throat, into his mouth, and finally on his face.

Vampires V - Black Ambition (still more continued)

2008-07-06T12:59:00.000-07:00

Rex could have cum inside the blond latin as easy as exhaling, but he wasn’t ready to advance Rico to the next stage, and God forbid he should get him to stage two and lose control – taking him unexpectedly to stage three the way Kurt had with Rex. No, Rex simply enjoyed fucking him, making him shoot uncontrollably and drinking the product of their lovemaking. He loved the feeling of power that came from reducing a grown man to a quivering lump of hard flesh, desperate for the next intense orgasm that only he could grant. He loved watching Rico’s face, his slack jaw, his clenched teeth. He loved watching his tight body frantically rocking against his cock.

So at first he didn’t notice Renaldo as he stepped out on the patio, naked, cock at full attention, staring at the two of them with undisguised lust. When Renaldo was only a few feet from their perch on the edge of the hot tub, both Rico and Rex looked up at him, Rex with a big grin – knowing that he’d drawn his real prey into the net – and Rico with a dull stare, too engrossed in getting fucked to care who saw him.

Without missing a beat, Rex reached up for Renaldo’s hard, pointing prick and engulfed it in his meaty hand before Renaldo had even set foot into the hot tub. Renaldo knelt at the edge and Rex devoured it whole, applying inhuman suction, fucking one brother and sucking the other.

Renaldo wasn’t disappointed by Rex’s skill at fellating. In all his life he’d never had a better blow job. It was as though the man’s life depended on draining his body of cum, and of course it did!

As even Rico’s newly enhanced cum sack reached its limits and the flow of cum waned to a dribble or two, Rex withdrew from the younger brother and focused all his attention on the older one. He played with Renaldo, keeping him at the edge of release for so long it began to feel to Renaldo almost as good as cumming. With one finger, then two slipping inside Renaldo’s tight ass, teasing his prostate while he sucked hard on his cock, Rex got him so hot he would let him do anything he wanted with him. Then he lifted the older brother’s legs and positioned his elephantine cock at the entrance to his ass.

Any reservation Renaldo might have had to getting fucked, especially by a cock as huge as the one Rex had, had been wiped away by witnessing the intense pleasure Rex’s fucking gave his younger brother, and by the incredible tension Rex had created inside his cock and his ass.

As Rex penetrated Renaldo, the older brother winced just a bit before feeling the giant cock rubbing against his prostate and sending shivers of pleasure through his body. When Rex got completely inside him and began to fuck, Renaldo didn’t even want Rex to touch him anywhere but inside his ass. Fucking the big man was so gratifying, he didn’t want anything to distract him.

With Renaldo, Rex had no reason to hold back. In just a few minutes he let loose and poured cum deep inside his guts, satisfying not only himself, but Renaldo as well, who felt sexually honored that it was he who had brought the giant to climax, not his brother.

Even as Rex’s vampiric gism began to work its magic on Renaldo’s body, Rex kept fucking him, working himself into his next orgasm and sealing his control over the future judges mind as well as his body.

Vampires V - Black Ambition (still continued)

2008-07-06T12:56:00.000-07:00

Earlier chapters of this story are posted on my website. Earlier pieces to this chapter have not yet been posted to my website, but they are available in April postings to this blog...

Rico’s deep throated scream drew Renaldo to the window of his second floor study, because his brother Rico was not normally verbally demonstrative during sex. Renaldo had a deep-seated ambiguity about his brother’s lifestyle. He not only worried about disease, he worried that the big, often rough-looking, men that Rico had sex with would hurt him some day. That’s why he encouraged him to bring them home. At least here Renaldo could protect him if things got out of hand.

The man Renaldo saw bending over his brother’s crotch, sucking the cum out of his brother’s cock, was enormous, bigger by far than any of the men Renaldo featured in his magazine. And even bigger than the men in his competitor’s magazines, the steroid freaks that drew crowds of devoted muscle-heads to competitions by the thousands. He wondered how Rico had found such a man in Denver. Renaldo knew the local bodybuilders, amateurs and pros, even the wannabes. No one came anywhere near this man’s size. For several minutes he stood behind the curtain at the open window as watched as the incredible hulk sucked on his brother’s cock, even though his brother had already come once. The guy was unusually enthusiastic at giving head that was for sure. Most guys would have stopped after drawing such a big orgasm out of someone. Either they would have settled back and let his brother start to work on them for a while, or they would have started fucking him. But this guy was slurping so hard on his brother’s bone that Renaldo could hear the sounds way up in the second story office over the noise of the hot tub pump, punctuated by loud, enthusiastic moaning and gasping by his normally staid little brother. It must have been the best blow job on earth, and it was making Renaldo hard hearing it and watching the giant back and arm muscles on the big guy working.

Both the Gonzalez brothers had been muscle hounds since childhood, their boyish fantasies feed by the fantastic natural physique of their father, a loading dock worker at a meat packing plant, who lounged around the house with his shirt off. Neither of the Gonzalez brothers had inherited their father’s natural proclivity for muscular size, and that was why both had devoted their post adolescent lives to vigorous pursuit of muscle, each in their own ways.

As Renaldo watched and rubbed his swollen crotch, Rico bucked his hips and force fed his cock deep into the eager throat of the giant man. This time he was just as load and demonstrative as the first, only this time Rex kept him cumming for more than fifteen minutes, draining his enlarged nuts of their vampire sustaining gism. It hardly seemed possible to Renaldo that anyone, let alone his own brother, whose sexual abilities he was intimately familiar with, could cum that long. The guy must be some fucking cocksucker to give that much pleasure.

Then the man stepped back and Renaldo got a good look at his front. The sight was enough to make even a self avowed heterosexual like Renaldo cum uncontrollably. The guy had the biggest pectorals Renaldo had ever seen, pumped up over the tightest waist, and framed by humongous biceps that bulged out even with his arms straightened and his muscles relaxed. But the source of the real show was between the man’s legs, a cock as thick as a donkey’s that stuck straight up to his chest and throbbed and bounced like it had a mind of its own.

As the man aimed it at Rico’s asshole, Renaldo gasped, frightened for his brother’s safety, but desperate to see it plunge into his hole. Rico gave himself enthusiastically to the monster, grabbing at his ass to pull him deeper inside even faster. As the giant forced deeper inside him, Rico’s cries of enthusiastic pleasure got louder and louder, and cum erupted again from his unattended prick, which the giant did his best to lap up with his fingers and tongue. There was a moment of peace when the two of them were finally completely conjoined before the giant began to fuck and it seemed like the whole house vibrated with the force of his pounding.

Renaldo could stand it no more. He frantically fumbled with his pants, hauled out his purple cock and beat it until it burst. But before he’d even caught his breath he was hard again and just as horny.

Carnicería - continued

2008-07-04T11:36:00.000-07:00

Some of Jonah’s pay for his new job at the carnicería was free meat. The cash he took home beyond was just enough to keep him from bankruptcy after he gave up his apartment, put most of his things in storage and moved in with a straight friend from work who let him sleep on the sofa.

Jonah could have moved home to live with his parents after losing his job, but they lived across the state, too far from the sustenance he required from the carnicería, and too far from Miguel, who he still fantasized about, though Miguel seemed even more careful to maintain distance between them now that Jonah was his employee.

Jonah might have turned his physical attentions on other men. Lord knows that almost any gay man would have given his right arm to sleep with Jonah, now that he was humongous. But Jonah lived in one of the smaller, more conservative cities in Texas without a single meeting place for gay men. Before his infatuation with Miguel, Jonah had contented himself with occasional weekend trips to Dallas, Houston, Austin or even San Antonio.

Jonah kept his gym membership, and gorging on the meat from the carnicería kept him packing the pounds on his already formidable physique. In a few weeks he was close to three hundred pounds, and he was so incredibly cut that he could stick the tips of his fingers in the grooves between his abs. His waist was only thirty inches, but his chest was fifty-eight inches, his thighs were thirty-one inches. But Jonah was proudest of his arms. They were twenty-four inches cold. Jonah was bigger than his largest bodybuilding idols. So big that people stared when he walked down the street.

Even though he couldn’t afford it, Jonah drove to the nearest big city with gay night life one weekend so he could spend some time with men would appreciated what he had to offer. Jonah had always gravitated to bigger guys. Now there were no guys bigger than him when he went out, but he got off on BEING the big guy who fulfilled the littler guys’ fantasies. He rounded up two, three or four guys at a time, took them back to his cheap motel and fucked them to a frazzle. Wherever he went, he was a walking party favor, drawing guys who didn’t even know each other together and getting them so hot they were willing to do anything he wanted to do to them, or to each other.

The guys he corralled may not have been as big as he was, but all of them were really hot. They were guys he would never have attracted a few months ago. Gay muscle builders bigger than he used to be and big-dicked daddies who loved muscles.

At the end of the weekend, his cash all gone and several hundred dollars more in debt, Jonah lamented the end of it all and wished he could have just a slice of the joy he had found back at home at the source of the size that had made it all possible.

Jonah found that not all of Miguel’s customers were big muscle men. Many of them were ordinary Latinas buying food for their families. But the ordinary customers were given different cuts of meat than the bodybuilders. Jonah also began to notice turnover among the bodybuilders who came to the carnicería. Guys would come by every week for several weeks or months, and he’d see them pack on pound after pound. Then eventually they seemed to stop coming in and new guys replaced them, smaller men just as eager and loyal as the ones that preceded them. What happened to them, Jonah wondered. Was it possible you could stop eating the meat from the carnicería and keep the size you gained? He found it hard to believe they could lose interest in being big.

Jonah didn’t. He was just shy of three hundred and twenty pounds now, and he still craved more size and more strength. Every time he pushed out a set of twelve squats with eleven hundred pounds on his oxen shoulders, or pumped out five sets of eight hundred pounds on his bench, he threw a boner inside his loose fitting gym pants. The guys next to him sometimes noticed it, but they understood, because they knew if they could lift the kind of weight he could, they’d get hard too. In fact some of the straightest ones DID get hard just watching him. Jonah began to wonder whether they might even be available to him now that his development had leaped into the stratosphere.

Jonah also learned that Miguel was married. He had a wife and three small children that occasionally came into the shop. It didn’t convince him that Miguel didn’t fuck men, because he saw how Miguel eyed all of the big customers, and he saw the charm he lavished on them.

One afternoon at the beginning of Jonah’s shift as he walked into the market instead of being greeted by Miguel’s broad grin from behind the counter, he heard the faint sounds of sex from the back room. The sound of the bell over the front door didn’t distract whoever was going at it in the least. Maybe they didn’t even hear it. Jonah walked as quietly as he could around behind the counter and looked into the backroom as he kept the bulk of his body hidden around the corner.

It was Miguel of course, with one of their biggest customers, a guy named Henry. Miguel had sat Henry on the butcher table, naked, his legs up over his head, as Miguel plunged his formidable cock into his ass with slowly, surely, both of them lost in pleasure. After a few minutes, Jonah stopped watching and hid from view, afraid to leave for fear they would hear the bell the second time, and ashamed to stay because he had already seen too much to explain without exposing his prurient interest in the two of them.

Finally, after he heard the two of them cum in quick succession, he walked back to the door, opened and closed it again, and took his time walking behind the counter. This time Miguel came out from the back room to greet him, fully dressed. Jonah apologized for being a little late. Miguel told him it was no big deal. When Jonah walked in to the back room to put on his white apron, Henry was gone, out the back door into the alley.

New Home

2008-06-28T14:52:00.000-07:00

The website archive of my stories has moved to a new hosting company and now has it's own domain name. Those of you with saved links to my URL http://josefhoward.home.att.net need to change the link in your web browser to the new URL www.agrowingconcern.com

The links section of this page has already been updated.

For now there is redirect page on the old URL, but that will be removed in a few weeks.

Carnicería

2008-06-21T15:50:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the most magical of places appear the most mundane. Sometimes instead of finding them in far away exotic places, you find them right under your nose.

So it was with the carnicería in the strip mall near Jonah’s gym. Jonah wouldn’t even have gone there if he hadn’t been hungry after a long butt-busting leg workout and hadn’t realized he had nothing in the refrigerator had home.

Jonah didn’t know what to expect inside the store. He didn’t speak Spanish, and he didn’t have the faintest idea what kind of meat an ethnic meat market sold.

Hearing the butcher greet him in unaccented English as he walked in the front door was his first surprise. The next one came has he looked up and across the counter at the biggest man he had ever seen in person in his whole life. Jonah had been working out three years, since his last year of college, at a serious bodybuilding gym, but no one he’d seen there, including some of the top rank amateurs who occasionally passed through town, came close to the size of the man behind the counter. Dressed in a white apron over an obscenely tight t-shirt, every mound, ripple and ridge of his shoulder, arm and chest muscles could be seen bouncing as he moved.

Jonah’s mouth dropped at the sight of him, and it took a few minutes before he snapped out of it. By then his cock was rock hard and tenting the front of his gym pants. The butcher was staring, but smiling. Jonah blushed.

“What can I get you?” the butcher asked.

“W-w-what’s fresh?” Jonah responded.

“Everything. We cut all our own meat here in the store. And it’s all the highest quality, tender, and with all the fat trimmed. You work out?”

Jonah was flattered a guy that big even noticed his muscles. He’d put on some size since he started lifting, but he was barely over two hundred pounds even though he was almost six feet tall. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

“How about a nice big, lean steak, then? How about if I wrap up several big cuts for you. There’s no better meat than what I sell here when you’re trying to pack on muscle. Chicken may be lower in fat, but this has more muscle building nutrients.” The butcher flexed an arm and up popped a biceps head almost as big as Jonah’s head, with a pair of pencil-sized veins snaking on either side of it. “I eat it two or three times a day, myself.”

Jonah didn’t make much money, and since it was towards the end of the month, he didn’t have much cash, but the way that mountain of muscle was flirting with him, Jonah just didn’t have the will to say no. As he watched passively, the butcher filled a big paper bag with several different cuts of meat, weighing each one, wrapping it in brown paper and marking it with a black magic marker.

The total was surprisingly low, considering everything he put in the bag, but it cleaned out Jonah’s wallet nonetheless. As he took Jonah’s money, the butcher held out a beefy paw and introduced himself. “Miguel,” he said with a broad smile that sent blood rushing to Jonah’s groin all over again.

As Jonah walked out he was sorry he’d bought so much, not just because he couldn’t afford it. He was sorry he wouldn’t have an excuse to come back again soon.

Jonah may have regretted spending money he didn’t have, but he didn’t let it stop him from enjoying the meat. Inspired by the butcher, he started eating meat three times a day – a breakfast steak, a lean hamburger for lunch and prime rib for dinner. It may have just been the placebo effect, but he started lifting heavier at the gym that week. By the following weekend, when he’d finished the last of his bag of meat, he’d added twenty pounds to his bench press and was ten pounds heavier.

It could have just been fat or water weight, but for the first time in months he was putting on size again. So that weekend he went back to the carnicería again after his workout and bought as much meat as he could afford. Miguel was just as friendly as the first time, and even claimed he could tell Jonah had put on size. As he packed up another paper bag, he winked at Jonah and told him he was slipping in a little extra for his new little friend. “You come back again next week,” he said. “You won’t find better meat, and you won’t find friendlier service, either.”

As the weeks went by, Jonah spent more money on food than he’d ever spent before in his whole life, but he couldn’t argue with the results. Every week he was stronger, heavier, and noticeably bigger. His old gym buddies thought he was shooting up and some of them stopped chatting him up between sets, but that was okay, because all of a sudden the bigger guys at the gym were getting friendly with him. Guys he’d lusted after from across the gym floor for years were coming up and shaking his hand, asking his name, and asking him when he’d joined. It was as though he’d been invisible to them the last few years, but now that he was their size, now that he was in their league, they finally saw him. Not that any of them came on to him. No, unfortunately they all seemed to be straight. Their sentences trailed off and their heads spin away the minute some busty fitness chick walked on the floor and Jonah was reminded that even though they treated him like a buddy, he’d never be able to date one of them.

It was all the more reason for Jonah to turn his attention to Miguel, who lavished ever more charm on him as he slid up the size ladder. By the time Jonah tipped the scale at two fifty, Miguel started getting into long conversations with him. There were never other customers in the store on Sunday morning when Jonah shopped, and sometimes Miguel sat Jonah down at one of the small tables near the window and made him an extra thick roast beef sandwich, extra rare, and poured them both a mug of coffee. He smiled and laughed and told Jonah how good it was to spend time with him and how much he looked forward to his visits.

And then one Sunday, as they sat in the sun streaming in the store front window, Miguel put his powerful paw on Jonah’s big, round shoulder. His smile faded. His eyes widened. His lower lip quivered and he leaned close to kiss him.

At that moment the bell attached to the front door rang. Miguel turned quickly away and welcomed the new customer. It took Jonah a moment longer to recover from what he had hoped might be his first intimate moment with the object of his weeks-old crush. When he turned to see who had interrupted them, he was in equal parts jealous and titillated. The gentleman who had entered was nearly the equal of Miguel in size and shape and smiled broadly, first at Miguel, upon whom he must have shared Jonah’s crush, and then at Jonah, whose body, beyond merely budding, had reached the size of a top professional bodybuilder.

Armando apologized for interrupting Miguel’s break from work, but Miguel greeted him as warmly as he greeted Jonah, clasping his meaty forearm and then his shoulder as he shook his hand and stared deeply into his eyes. It was plain that Miguel’s affection was exclusive.

It was also plain that Jonah was not the only man to have discovered the tremendous anabolic effects of the carnicería’s meat. As Jonah watched Miguel fill Armando’s order and stared at the gargantuan muscles that jumped and bunched over Armando’s body at his slightest movement, he wondered how many other men were beneficiaries of the carnicería’s wares. He fantasized about meeting them all, or better yet, spending a few hours in the company of them all at one time. Were they all as friendly toward other men as the two he had met?

That night Jonah’s fantasies of Miguel took a new twist as he imagined him with his other customers, and his customers with each other, tens of them, perhaps hundreds, and diving into a room full of them as the ingénue, the neophyte, but allowing them to initiate him into their companionship.

Jonah had never been particularly focused on his job. Though he had a college degree and a career in his chosen field, he’d had a difficult time transitioning from the relative freedom of college, with long stretches of leisure between lectures, and lots of days of sleeping late, to getting up at dawn every day and working eight to ten hours at a desk without interruption.

As his body grew larger and it became more difficult to keep up with buying bigger suits and shirts, he became more lackadaisical about his appearance. He blatantly violated the company dress code. At first his boss ignored his transgressions, but eventually it became too much for the company to overlook. Jonah’s enormous size, his slovenly dress, and his unwillingness to put in as much time on the job as his peers began to be seen as am unconscionable lack of commitment.

The week that Jonah topped the scales at 260, his boss took him aside and told him they were letting him go. He thanked him for two good years of work, but he told him it was obvious his interests lay outside of his job and urged him to pursue something he enjoyed more, like bodybuilding or training.

Although Jonah was glad to be shed of his boring job, he was also anxious about his finances. He had no savings, several thousand in credit card debt, car payments, a big student load, and his food bill alone was over a thousand a month. Without his pay check he’d never be able to continue eating the way he had. Without eating the carnicería’s unusual meat, he would stop growing, maybe even lose the size he’d gained in the last few weeks.

That weekend he cashed his final paycheck and went into the carnicería. Miguel could tell immediately that something was wrong with him.

“What is the matter my little friend?” he asked sympathetically.

Jonah smiled wanly. Miguel was one of the few men on earth who could still call him his “little friend”. “No great problem, Miguel. It’s just that this week I lost my job, and unfortunately my finances are not as robust as my body.”

Miguel fingered his chin as he looked his friend over. “Perhaps you could help me in the carnicería a few hours each week. I could not afford to pay you much, but I could pay you some of your wages in food.”

Jonah’s heart jumped inside his broad, beefy chest. Working with Miguel? He would have agreed if he’d had to work for free. “I’m afraid I don’t know anything about being a butcher,” Jonah said.

“What is there for you to know? You don’t need to cut the meat. I do that. You only have to weigh it, wrap it, and work the cash register.” Miguel extended his meaty hand. “What do you say?”

Jonah shook it and smiled so wide he thought he would never be able to get rid of his grin.

Miguel came around the counter. “Come here, my little friend.” Miguel wrapped his immense arms around Jonah and hugged him tightly, and as their bodies were pressed tightly against each other, Jonah thought he felt wood in Miguel’s loose pants, great thick and immensely long wood, equal to the man it sprouted from, and in response he grew hard and wet himself.

Where will the story go? Perhaps not where you think. Check back in a week for another chapter...

Muscle Growth Journal

2008-06-14T17:04:00.000-07:00

Muscle Growth Journal

By now you’ve seen several of these. Like all the others in the series, this video is shot against a blank blue background, one camera, full-on view of an athletic looking young man in running trunks, no shirt, standing next to an outrageously muscled man with a mike in his hand. The man with the mike is the usual interviewer, an unusually tall Asian who wears a tight stretch sleeveless t-shirt. His deltoids explode out from the sides and his biceps bunch up as big as his head.

“Tell us your name,” the man with the mike says and then shoves the mike in front of the youth next to him, who almost looks sickly in comparison.

“Clay,” he says. He seems a little uncomfortable in front of the camera.

“What brings you here, Clay?”

“I play football. I’m a quarterback. I’m in my senior year and I’m applying for a football scholarship, but the scouts tell me I’m too small.”

“How much do you weigh?”

“I’m one eighty-four. Five foot ten.”

“Have you been lifting?”

“Four years now. I eat like a pig and lift heavy but I just can’t put on size like the other guys.”

“So you heard about the program here. How we guarantee you put on twenty, thirty, even fifty pounds or more of muscle in a matter of minutes.”

“Yeah, all I gotta do is sign the waiver to be photographed while it happens. Kinda kinky, but it don’t matter to me. I just won’t do any of that faggot stuff they asked me about. I like girls. Not that I have a steady girl right now. I like to play the field, if you know what I mean,” Clay looks at the interviewer and the way he’s been looking him up and down. It is plain to him that the interviewer doesn’t have a clue what he means, at least when it came to girls.

“And they gave you the shots and you drank the nutrient drink?”

“Shit, I feel like a fucking pin cushion. A pin cushion full of fluids. It’s a fucking miracle I’m not springing a leak.”

“Do you feel any different yet?”

“Now that you mention it, I feel pretty great. Like I could whip the ass off a gorilla. Maybe even take you down,” Clay grinned.

“Do you fight, Clay? What other sports do you play?” As usual for the video series, the MC keeps the interview as bland as mashed potatoes.

“I don’t box or wrestle, if you mean sports. But I’ve whipped my share of ass,” Clay braggs.

“Flex your arms for us, Clay.”

Although he might have been intimidated by the size of the interviewer, Clay is feeling cocky. He raises an arm in front of his face. The camera zooms in tight. He looks at his arm and then into the camera lens. Then he smiles and tightens his biceps. His eyes widen and his jaw drops. It is obvious his arm is noticeably bigger than he has ever seen it before, even if it is still not that large. Clay lifts his other arm. The camera zooms back enough to capture his full frontal double biceps flex. They are full, round and well peaked. Clay grins as he admires them.

“It’s already begun, Clay, and this is only the start,” the MC says, but he is off camera. The video is all about Clay now.

Clay drops his arms into a crab squeeze, a most muscular. His traps and his deltoids jump out around his veiny neck. His chest rises.

“Try the weights, Clay.”

Clay picks up a pair of fifty pound dumbbells from the rack at his side. He smiles when he realizes how light they feel. Just a few minutes ago he would have struggled to hold them. He curls one, then the other. You can see his arms swell bigger and bigger with every repetition. He presses both of them over his head. His torso is a tight network of fibrous muscle supported by twin towers of ab muscle, widening from the top of his waist up to his broad shoulders.

No one has to tell Clay to try a heavier weight. He drops the first pair at his feet and picks up the one hundreds. Curling them is a struggle the first couple times, then more manageable, and finally as easy as it had been to lift the fifties. He is seriously big now. His arms almost twenty inches and his shoulders wide and rounded like cannonballs.

The camera zooms back again as he sets down the hundreds and reaches for one fifties. His lower body is huge as well. His glutes are stretching his trunks tight and his thighs are like oblong wheels of muscle. Even his calves are pumped up full.

“How do you feel now?” the MC asks as Clay pumps out an easy set with the one fifties.

“Fucking awesome!”

“Is that all?”

“No, man. I’m fucking HORNY! I’m so horny even you’re starting to look good to me. I’m so boned it hurts!”

The camera zooms in on Clay’s shorts, stretched tight around this thick thighs and huge glutes, and tented by an enormous erection that juts from between his thighs and bows out around his hip. Clay’s tool is so thick it is hard to believe it could even be a cock. It jerks and strains for freedom. Clay peers down at it around his thick chest muscles. He grabs and squeezes it a couple times and grins from ear to ear. “Fuck, even THIS is bigger!” It bucks again and tears free of his trunks, poking straight out, over a foot in front of him. He thrums it and it bounces like a diving board. “Help me out, here, man. Suck it for me?” he asks the MC.

“I thought you wouldn’t do any faggot stuff,” the MC says.

“But we’re both so hot! Suck me! Please! Hey cameraman! You suck me, alright?”

The camera wobbles. Then it settles down, like it’s been set on a tripod. It swivels into full body shot of Clay standing naked, his massively muscular chest heaving excitedly as his bat-sized prick throbs and bounces in front of him. He is still visibly growing, but he is almost as big as the MC now. The cameraman walks into the scene. He is wearing bulky sweats, but it is obvious that even he is gargantuan. The skin of his monster forearms is stretched to bursting. He brushes off his baseball cap and settles down in front of Clay’s cock, guiding it to his mouth with a well-muscled paw. He kneels slightly to his side, conscious of the camera and making sure that it catches him slowly working his wide open mouth down Clay’s monster, swallowing inch-after-great-fucking-inch.

When he’s engulfed the whole thing deep in his muscular throat, he sucks hard all the way up, until only the head is inside his mouth. Then he dives down hard, forcing it deep into his chest.

“Aw, FUCK, I’m cumming!” Clay holds the cameraman’s head tight against his groin and bucks his hips, fucking his face forcefully. You can see Clay’s thick cock stretching the guy’s throat as he fucks it. The camera man bucks as he chokes, and soon his lips are leaking cum.

The cameraman forces his way free and hocks a load of cum on the floor, then drives down again on Clay’s hard dick, sucking harder.

“Aw, I gonna cum again!” Clay shouts.

The cameraman force feeds himself on Clay’s swollen, purplish cock as Clay’s knees begin to buckle. His balls are drawn up tight against his cock, visibly squeezing out jizm. The cameraman slides Clay’s cock out of his mouth and jacks it, watching it fire several feet over his head, then points it into his wide open mouth and fires it at his throat, swallowing deeply, then lets it fire into the air again. When it finally stops both Clay and the cameraman are coated with sweat. The cameraman stands. He tugs at Clay’s wet, swollen dick, and he kisses him hard on the mouth, sharing the cum, then sucking Clay’s tongue.

Clay grabs his ass with both hands and squeezes. He slips his hands under the waistband of his sweatpants and fingers his asshole. The cameraman pulls his sweatpants down exposing a pair of well-muscled legs and a great, bobbing dick, larger than Clay’s. He pull off his sweatshirt. His back and his chest are as large as the MC’s. Clay squeezes one of his pecs and sucks on his nipple.

Clay turns the cameraman around and rubs the head of his cock between his ass cheeks. The cameraman winces when he slides inside, then gasps as he drives deeper. Slightly off camera you can see the MC doing something. There is a thump as he sets down the mike.

The cameraman bends over as Clay fucks the shit out of him. His club-sized dick is stiff and curled upward, wagging as his body jerks with the force of Clay’s fucking. His huge arms hold on to his bent knees as he braces himself against the onslaught.

Then from the right, the naked figure of the interviewer walks on camera. He stands behind Clay, a good three inches taller than the young football player. He lays his hand on Clay’s shoulder and positions his cock against Clay’s anus. As he enters him Clay is so overwhelmed he falls on top of the cameraman. No matter. The cameraman is strong enough to support them both. Clay hugs his wide back as the interviewer begins his vigorous thrusting.

Soon Clay finds his strength again and coordinates his thrusts to the interviewer’s as the two of them put their full weight and strength into fucking the cameraman. In less than a minute the cameraman’s cock is spurting hard against his abs and chest and all over the floor. Clay’s face twists in ecstasy as he empties his third load into the cameraman’s ass. And the interviewer fucks on, oblivious to either of them, losing himself in his own pleasure without concern for either of the other two.

Then the camera crashes to the floor, as the three of them knock into the tripod in a fucking frenzy.

Favorite Muscle Morph

2008-06-06T17:25:00.001-07:00

I don't like many muscle morph videos. They usually fall into two catagories. Either they bridge two photos of different guys -- one thin, one big -- standing in the same position, or they show a really muscled guy growing way beyond believability. I like this one because although the size is outrageous, it almost seems possible to get as big as this guy becomes.

Running With The Bulls - Part 5

2008-05-10T14:47:00.000-07:00

Incredible sex with an endless parade of Walden’s muscle monsters continued unabated. Just when Guy, a giant horn dog when it came to outrageous muscle, thought that he might become numb to the ubiquity of hyper masculinity, he met some new variation on the theme, or traded glances across an orgy with a man hotter than any of the many others he’d fucked with.

Far more transformative than the sex was the casual camaraderie with men he aspired to be like. Although he had not yet seen Aiden, he felt enveloped in the quintessence of what he had felt from Aiden. The love and kindness of so many strong, virile men was not an experience he would ever forget. It was more beguiling than love, more transformative than religious experience, and more self-affirming than family.

But like a ghost glimpsed in a mirror, the metamorphosis Hadad had described that first night was casually mentioned again and again by the men he met. As intensely erotic as his experiences had been so far, Guy lusted for what was to come, and his anxious anticipation heightened his sexual arousal with every man he fucked.

The camp was chaotic in general. Meals and entertainment happened spontaneously on no particular schedule. If one group rose at dawn, others rose at noon. The mess hall was constantly active and alive with the smells of dozens of meals prepared for one or one hundred by volunteers, and cleaned by other volunteers. Guy marveled that everything functioned so smoothly and that no one took advantage of the disorder to slack off and avoid pulling their own weight. Sometimes the large meeting tent was full to bursting during the afternoon and almost empty at night and sometimes it was the reverse. If there was a program for anything, no one spoke of it.

On the afternoon of his fourth day at camp, after a few hours spent swimming and fucking around near the river, Guy walked leisurely back to the camp and noticed the tent was crowded and he heard sporadic deep throated masculine cheers like men watching a sporting event.

Guy walked quickly into the tent and pushed past the men at the edge of the crowd. On the stage at the center Guy saw what had drawn the crowd. A man far larger than any he had seen at the camp sat on huge throne. At his feet were three young men, one of them not even as large as Guy, lapping and loving the largest erect phallus that Guy had ever seen.

The man on the throne was not only large, every inch of his body was hairy, and from his forehead sprouted two thick horns that curved back and then forward again. Neither his thick dark fuzz peppered with gray nor his dark skin could obscure the deep definition of his impossibly immense muscularity. His chest was a yard wide and hung with pectorals that billowed up and out. At the outer edges were nipples as thick as the end of a finger, surrounded by nipple skin the size of a silver dollar. Supporting that chest were abdominals like twin totems of rock. But as wide as his chest was, his shoulders and arms seemed disproportionately larger. Each upper arm was almost as wide as his chest, and his hands were the size of a normal man’s head.

The phallus that rose straight up from his groin, and occasionally spewed pre-cum like an active volcano belches lava, reached up past the top of this head, and not all three of the handsome young men together could do justice by it. But it didn’t stop them from lathering it with their tongues, worshiping it with their hands, or rubbing it between the pecs of their muscular chests.

When one could concentrate on anything below the man’s groin, one could see his lower body was just as extraordinary as the upper body. His thighs rivaled his chest for girth, and his calves were truly worthy of that name.

As Guy got closer, and he was uncontrollably drawn to the scene, he interrupted the stares of the men near him to ask what was going on.

“It’s the Founder,” said one, without looking away from the spectacle. “And the initiates,” added another nearby him.

‘Initiates?’ Guy echoed inside his head. ‘Wasn’t HE an initiate?’

As Guy reached the edge of the stage he saw others the size of the ones at the giant’s feet milling around the base of it, more deeply enthralled than the other men, naked, hard, eagerly waiting their turn. The closer he got, the dizzier Guy felt. His thoughts became muddled. His breath heaved. He felt an uncontrollable urge to undress, and barely noticed as he shed his clothes that he laid them on a heap with the clothes of the others who pressed as tightly against each other as they pressed against the edge of the stage. Although they were sandwiched together they paid no attention to the flesh of the men next to them. They only had eyes for the man enthroned on the stage.

Guy pressed through them and reached with both hands toward the Founder, like a groupie for a rock star. The eyes of the Founder met his and Guy was overtaken by an uncontrollable shiver of lust. His mouth was dry. His skin tingled and his purple prick dribbled pre-cum. He felt the eyes bidding him to come on stage. He lifted himself up and ambled into the scene, easily the most gorgeous of the men attending the center of their attention. The Founder raised his hand from the arm of the throne and bade him to come closer. Guy’s heart pounded inside his chest. The giant’s hand rested on Guy’s muscular shoulders and his deep set eyes stared into Guy’s soul. Guy could barely stand, but he rubbed his body against the spit slick phallus and lapped at it like a cat. A groan erupted from the lips of the giant and Guy felt ecstatic to have been the catalyst. He hugged it with his arms and then did something he hadn’t seen anyone else do. He turned his back to it and rubbed the crack of his huge, round muscle butt against the thick vein that ran underneath it.

The Founder reached for him and held him still as he thrust against him, his enormous balls bouncing into Guy’s ass. The Founder screamed and a thick froth of cum exploded over Guy’s head and showered him in pellets of cream. Guy grabbed himself and jerked furiously, scrunching his eyes and rubbing harder against the Founder’s phallus as he tore an orgasm from inside himself.

After cumming the Founder’s phallus softened and dropped to the ground. As the other men stood around him as close as they could get, the Founder encouraged Guy to sit on his leg. He stroked his blond hair with his huge hands. He guided Guy’s lips to his and as they kissed, his long, fat tongue wound deep into Guy’s mouth. Guy felt the Founder’s phallus thicken and start to rise. When he released him it stood as straight and tall as before. The other men began to attend it again, and Guy recognized that he had been dismissed.

As badly as he wanted to stay with the giant and attend him forever, he knew there were others more desperate than he was to have their turn, but he hoped that he would have many other opportunities.

Caribbean Cruise - Part Two

2008-05-10T08:37:00.000-07:00

In a clearing invisible to the beaches we came to a village made of the same small huts on his property. Between the huts I saw a few men, walking, working and standing. They weren’t Native American or African. They were all races and colors. The only thing they had in common was their size. Compared to them, my new friend was average. That none of them wore shirts made their mass all the more evident. I snapped half a dozen shots as we walked closer.

“Welcome to paradise, my friend,” he said to me, beaming.

As we walked through the village I was inclined to agree with the characterization.

A tall blond man looked at us as we approached.

“Matt, you have brought a new friend. What is his name?”

To spare Matt the embarrassment of admitting we hadn’t exchanged names I introduced myself. The blond called himself Logan.

“Have you introduced him to the weed?” Logan asked Matt.

“Only a puff,” he said, “but I can tell he will like it.”

“Then I don’t see why he should wait any longer,” Logan said. Behind him a small group of the men were sorting stacks of a large, dried, crumbled leaf and rolling it inside other dried leaves into fat, twisted cigars. Logan took one from their working pile, bit off the end, held it to a small campfire until it smoked, and then took a deep puff. He handed it to Matt, who took one too and then handed it to me.

Logan motioned for me to sit. Then he turned to Matt and gave him a deep kiss. Their thick ropy dicks expanded, and since neither of them were wearing pants, they were free to rise unfettered between their bodies, rubbing erotically against each others thighs, waist and then joining against each other, sandwiched between their taut tummies. I realized I was still holding my camera and snapped a few pictures, some close-ups of their moist faces as they devoured each other’s lips and some close-ups of their enormous wrestling cocks.

Logan broke their kiss and stepped back. He wrapped the fingers of one hand as far around Matt’s cock as he could. Matt reciprocated and the two of them continued their deep mouthed kiss as they yanked and jerked at each other’s cocks. Logan grasped Matt’s tightly muscled waist and turned him around. Matt arced his back to present his round, muscular butt to him. Logan dribbled spit on his two foot cock, spread the slippery fluid around the head, and squatted low enough to position it between Matt’s ass cheeks as I continued to capture the whole scene with my camera. I hoped that I wouldn’t run out of space on my memory card or batteries before I could capture their looks of intense ecstasy as they came.

Logan put both his hands on Matt’s broadly muscled shoulders and pulled him back into his cock. Without a hint of pain, Logan’s cock slowly slid deep inside Matt’s ass, and Matt’s foot and a half dick bobbed and throbbed in appreciation of the conquest.

After I’d covered the fucking with enough shots to capture the scene, I set the camera down beside me and took a deep draw from the cigar as I watched the show. The instant the smoke hit my lungs the disjointed feelings returned and I worried I wouldn’t be able to continue taking pictures. But with my second puff I started to feel something new: a feeling I can only describe as solidity deep in my chest and radiating outward to my toes and fingertips, making my muscles feel both heavy, like lead, and curiously light. The skin around my chest, shoulders, upper arms and thighs began to feel tight, as if my whole body were drawing a deep breath and expanding. My muscles stretched larger with each long, slow beat of my heart, and I heard a sound like a rubber balloon expanding as my skin stretched to accommodate my new size. I heard muscle and cartilage crackling as the fibers swelled and expanded. A feeling of immense strength flooded my body with such intensity that I couldn’t resist tensing and flexing my muscles, one group at a time. Each time I did they swelled even larger and the stretching and crackling noises grew louder.

My arms and shoulders were full and hard. My chest was pulling at the buttons down the front. Under my arms my swelling lats were starting to make the stitches of my shirt pop. Even my loose fitting shorts were tight around my thighs. I took a deep breath and the buttons on my shirt popped. I flexed my chest, shoulders and arms in a “most muscular”. My sleeves tore free. I flexed my arms in a “double biceps” and felt the upper arms of my shirt shred. I picked up my camera and turned it back at myself, set the lens at wide angle and took a few shots, grinning like an idiot.

Logan looked up from Matt’s broad muscular backside and big tight butt to watch me flex and grow. Matt, lost in the rapture of getting fucked, needed Logan to nudge his chin before he turned to look at me and smiled. The sight of me bursting out of my skin turned him on even more. He tightened his ass grip on Logan’s two foot cock and drove himself back on it two or three times. His giant, club-sized cock arced up and fired three times on his face and chest. The veins in Logan’s neck popped. His face got red. He pounded his dick deep and hard inside Matt’s ass as he emptied his load, then buried himself to the hilt and ground into his ass with all his prodigious strength, relishing his penetration of Matt’s ass.

I began to feel the tightening of my muscles subside, but not my hunger for muscle. As much as I had grown, I wasn't half as large as Logan. I drew a deep drag from the cigar that was still balanced between my lips, held the swirling smoke inside my lungs as long as I could, exhaled, and drew deeply two or three more times. Immediately I felt the blood rush through my veins, creating an insane muscle pump, kick-starting the growth again. I arched my broadly muscled back, straightened my arms and twisted my fists, watching the thick cords of muscle on my forearms form deep crevices between the muscles. I pulled apart the remains of my shirt and rubbed my shoulders, arms and chest appreciatively, though they were still smaller than those of the men around me.

I heard a shutter fire. Matt had picked up my camera and was taking MY picture now. I didn’t care. I was proud.

I took another long drag on the thick cigar. Smoke curled around my head as I held some deep in my lungs. My blood pounded hard inside my veins. My muscles, swollen to near bursting, as hard as rock, expanded yet again.

I savored the sensation and smiled as I flexed my arm and watched my bicep bunch up like a cantaloupe. My entire upper body was like armor. As Matt continued taking pictures, Logan knelt in front of me and pulled my shorts down over his wide thighs. My stiff penis, thick and long as a prize cucumber bobbed and swung free, then slowly levitated higher, pointing upwards in the deep crevice between the twin building blocks of my abdominals. The weight of it pulled on my groin. I looked down and saw it had gotten longer and much thicker. My balls were bigger too, stretching my sack as they bounced inside, excited at the attention I was attracting.

Logan opened his mouth wide and wrapped his thick lips around it, sliding slowly, but forcefully down, stuffing inch after inch deep into this throat. Logan grasped my lemon-sized testicles one in each hand and twisted and tugged at them. I heard the shutter fire more rapidly as Matt captured Logan’s conquest of my prick and the elation on my face. The incredible hulk that knelt between my legs was enthusiastically priming my penis pump, his lips clamped tight.

The cigar still clung to my dry lips. I sucked the smoke deeper still. Between my ears my blood pounded harder. With each breath my muscles expanded, and I knew I was still no where near the size of Logan or even Matt. When I could tear my eyes from the sight of Logan sucking my cock, I marveled at the thick tear drops of muscle taking shape on either side of my legs and the deep separation between them and the other muscles of my quadriceps. Twin mounds of chest power were forming between my shoulders and only the deep valley between them that allowed me to see below.

Matt handed me my camera, and I began to photograph my view from above, even as I felt the cum in my balls pressing upward toward release. Somehow I managed to hold on to the camera and keep firing as Logan dove down on my thick cock and the cream poured into his throat. I even caught the instant he let it spring free from his mouth and it bounced upward, ejaculating into the air.

One Hundred and One - The Lone Wolf

2008-05-04T11:39:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I posted a story to Muscle Growth bulletin board in the Continuing Story section. The idea of that section is that someone starts a story and then anyone else can pick it up and take it in any direction they want. I wrote a story about an intern at a college health clinic who brings together a group of big guys who, unknown to them, have received an experimental drug that causes outrageous muscle growth. He fesses up to them and leaves. They form a support group to tell each other their stories. I called the story "One Hundred and One" because there were one hundred and one guys. I had in mind the Arabian Nights story "One thousand and One..." A few people were inspired enough to write subsequent chapters. None of them followed the form I had in mind, which was that the stories would all be told by one of the guys to the group in their regular meetings. I didn't really care, because the freedom of the next author to take the story in any direction they chose is the whole point of a round-robin story form. However I had one more chapter to this story inside my head. What follows is my own contribution to the continuing story. I have also posted this to the bulletin board. If you read this blog and you haven't read the bulletin board, I suggest you follow the link to the right and check it out. There's a whole universe of muscle growth stories waiting for you.

The Lone Wolf

He stood. Although he must have been almost three hundred pounds, he was only five and a half feet tall. From under his tight Wolverine t-shirt collar tufts of black hair curled up. In fact every inch of skin he exposed was hairy. His forearms, his triceps, the back of his hands, even his knuckles. His face was darkened by a beard that although recently shaved was still black. The hair on his head was thick, wavy and unkempt. When he smiled at the rest of them, he revealed a set of perfect teeth as white as pearls.

“Hi, I’m Cal. I’m a sophomore. I guess you can tell from the way I’m dressed that I read comics. I started in high school. Wolverine is my favorite character. I guess because I’m short like he is, and even though I got bullied, Wolverine never had to take shit from anybody. I’ve always been a little hairy too.

“I was a scrawny kid all my life. Never weighed much more than a hundred pounds. That’s probably why I got off on comics, especially the ones with outrageously muscular guys, like the Hulk or Thor. I drew my own characters too. I drew them even bigger than the guys I saw in the comics.

“Last fall I went to the campus health clinic like the rest of you. I had a cold. The doctor gave me a shot, which I thought was odd at the time, because usually they just send you home with aspirin and Sudafed, but what the hell, right?

“A couple weeks later I started to feel different. My clothes felt tight. At first I thought I’d washed them in hot water by mistake or something, but it got worse the week after. One morning I stepped out of the shower and when I saw myself in the mirror I did a double take. All of a sudden I had muscles. Not very big, but firm and well defined. Not only that, but I noticed something else. My dick seemed bigger.

“I thought it was some kind of late adolescent thing at first, but every week I grew a little more, until finally I looked like a completely different guy. I mean I had fucking biceps, a chest that filled out my shirts, and an honest to god package in my pants. Girls started staring at me. I lost my fear of talking to them. Even went on a few dates. Before spring semester I had a steady girl friend, and it was sweet. She loved sex. I mean who doesn’t when they can get it, right? She had these huge knockers, you know, like from some sex magazine – big, round, tight ones like cantaloupes. We had a real good thing, the two of us.

“By that time I was getting kind of big. I weighed around 190. For a guy my height that’s large. Abby thought I was a little too big, you know. She was only five foot three, and I had to be careful not to crush her when I fucked her on top. That wasn’t the only way I was too big for her. My dick was almost ten inches long and really thick. When we got going, if I fucked her extra hard, it started to hurt her.

“When I reached 200 pounds she broke up with me. When life closes a window it opens a door. One day my physics professor asks me stay after class. He closes the door behind the last student and stands up close to me, his thickly muscled chest in my face. He was the Clark Kent type. Always in dress shirt and a tie to class, but you could see he was really well built anyway.

“’You’ve been putting on some size,’ he says, ‘Cal.’ He puts his hand on my crotch then and squeezes. ‘Even this seems like it’s getting bigger.’ He’s got my cock out in an instant and I’m so horny without my girl friend, I’m at full mast with two tugs. He puts my hand on his crotch and he’s pretty big and he’s not even stiff. He pushes me down and hauls it out. It’s the biggest I’d ever seen, besides mine. I’m so delirious with lust by then I want to suck his cock just to feel it get hard inside of me.

“’Line up your mouth with your throat, Cal,’ he tilts my head and stuffs my throat with his rubbery cock. I cough, but it feels good sliding down my throat. It’s the other side of the coin from getting blown, and it makes me hot knowing I’m taking his whole bat down because it makes me think what it would feel like to get my big cock swallowed. My girl could barely get the head in her mouth.

“He pulls out, though. Pulls my pants down to my ankles and bends me over his desk. He tugs my cock down between my legs and slurps it up. I don’t need to think about what it might feel like. I start jerking and squirting the minute he reaches the root. He yanks the base with his hand then to drain me as he aims my squirts into his open mouth. Then he slurps the whole cum coated length of it as it gets even harder. He’s worked a few fingers inside my anus by then, and I realize I’m about to lose my cherry.

“He’s not particularly gentle about it, either. He just rams inside me, but even though I’d always thought getting fucked would hurt, it didn’t hurt me at all, and once he started pushing in and out it started to feel real good. He kept playing with my cock and eventually I shot again, just as he was cumming inside of me.

“And that began my life as a muscle bottom. It seemed like I just couldn’t get enough of getting fucked. I met a lot of guys at the Gay Student Union. My new friends took me out and I was an instant hit. I fucked around with new guys every week. Sometime four or five at a time!

“Meanwhile I was still getting bigger. By spring quarter I hit 250. I know that sitting there across the room looking at me you can tell how much bigger I am than that now, and you’re probably thinking, 250 is no big deal, but it was. I couldn’t get clothes in my size because I’m so short. I had to buy tall guys pants and roll up the legs and buy big guys shirts, only I could only buy short sleeve shirts.

“The sex dried up too. Even gay guys have their limits. Two fifty on a five foot five frame is freaky. And if they could get around that, there was my freaky dick. It was 14 inches, almost as long as my thigh.

“At the end of the spring quarter I began to get worried. What if it didn’t stop? What if I ended up some muscle bound Jabba the Hutt? So I went back to the health clinic. Ironically I ended up seeing the same intern who gave me my shot that fall.

“When he walked in the exam room he looked at me and smiled slyly, like he was enjoying a private joke. I told him my problem. He scribbled notes in my file. Then he asked me to disrobe so he could examine me. As I unbuttoned my shirt his eyes bulged and he must have lost it a little because I could hear him make a low whistling sound. When I stepped out of my underwear and my big, fat floppy dick came into view I heard him swallow.

“As he listened to my heart with his stethoscope, the front of his pants tented a bit and his breathing grew irregular. I wondered whether he could even concentrate on hearing my lungs and heart beat. It seemed like the exam was just a rouse to keep me undressed. He tapped my knees with the little rubber mallet to check my reflexes. He felt my glands. But when he put his finger under my scrotum and told me to cough, well, I couldn’t help myself. He was really handsome. My giant dick started to stretch and straighten and in a few heart beats it was at full mast. It didn’t help that it had been several weeks since I’d had a sex partner.

“He wrapped his hand around it and tugged a little. ‘I can see this reflex is fine too,’ he said with a touch of humor to break the tension between us. I told him it worked too well, and that was another part of my problem. He looked me in the eyes, stoically, staring. I wanted him to go down on me, but he didn’t. He just started working it with his hand. Then with both hands, as he locked eyes with me and my mouth went slack. Eventually I let loose a fountain of cum. He wiped me clean with paper towels and told me to get dressed.

“He said he thought it was the shot he gave me last fall. He didn’t say much about how it could have had the effect it had or why, but he said I wasn’t the first guy it had had this effect on. He’d started seeing other guys come back a few months ago.

“I asked him what I could do. He said enjoy it. He said he planned to. I thought he meant with his patients, but I guess from our meeting last week that he meant he was trying it on himself.

“I was supposed to go home and stay with my parents last summer, but instead I hitch-hiked around the country. I visited New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Miami. Some of the guys I met steered me towards some other guys who made movies. I made some money that way.

“By the end of the summer I had reached my current weight, two ninety-four. Arms twenty-eight, chest sixty, and legs thirty-six. Dick…well…let’s just say it’s kept pace.

“You guys know the rest – how we were invited to the meeting last week – told we’d been used as guinea pigs by the Doc, and decided to form this support group.”

Running With The Bulls - Part 4

2008-05-03T13:01:00.000-07:00

Earlier parts of this story have been posted here on this blog. Check the Archives to the right of the page to find them.

As Guy caught his breath, one of the tall twins who had held him up lay down on the rough floor boards, his immense prick rock hard against his deeply etched abs. The other twin lowered Guy’s wilted weight down as his friend on the floor pointed his prick straight up. The weight of Guy’s body as he lowered himself to the floor forced it deep inside of him, and as it slid in Guy felt his cock stiffen and stretch again. Guy propped himself up with his hands on the floor and rocked on the cock, rubbing it deep inside him, exciting himself again.

Behind him the other twin knelt. He pushed Guy’s shoulders lower, lifting his butt higher as his friend repositioned himself to keep inside Guy’s ass. Then he slowly, but surely forced his own stiff cock, as long as his twin’s but even thicker, inside Guy’s ass, the two of them stretching Guy even more as they rubbed against his insides and against each other.

The instant they were both even half inside, Guy felt his cock get rock hard. He shivered all over with ecstasy and his cock jerked and fired into the air, covering the chest of the twin on the floor in milky cum.

As Hadad watched and smiled, one his other cabin mates knelt at Guy’s face and poked his hard, heavy cock at Guy’s lips. Guy was so hungry for cock he sucked it into his mouth without coaxing, but the man grabbed Guy’s head anyway and fucked his face.

“Oh, my young friend,” Hadad said as he massaged his long, hard cock, enjoying the sight of Guy’s further initiation, “wait until you visit the springs. If you are this horny now, you will go crazy when you drink the waters.”

Through the elated haze of being double fucked up his ass and sucking frantically on a cock almost a foot an a half long, Guy listened as intently as he could to Hadad’s voice. It tethered him to the world, and intrigued him.

“The first time you swallow, you can feel the water seeping from your stomach into your veins. You can feel the blood rush to your groin, like you’re getting the biggest erection of your life.”

Guy almost doubted it could surpass the size of his cock right now as it reacted to the electricity of two cocks fucking him.

“You can feel your dick growing, your balls getting bigger, stretching your scrotum. Then your dick starts to stiffen and rise, only it’s bigger than it’s ever been before, one and half, or two times it’s size. You my young friend will be a monster. It’ll be afraid to let you fuck me.”

Guy wanted badly to try, after feeling how good it felt to get fucked by Hadad. He wanted to challenge his body the way his had been challenged, to make him feel as good as he had felt.

“And as it juts out in front of you, gigantic and hungry for flesh, you become desperate with the need for penetration. You would fuck anything, just to feel your newly enlarged organ inside it, ravishing it, taking your pleasure from it. And if the elders treat you right, they will provide someone for you then, a guide for your journey to real manhood, who will allow you to take your pleasure right there.

“But that is only the beginning, my friend, because while you have been fixated on the immensity of your manhood and your overwhelming needs, the rest of your body will have begun its transformation. Your arms, your thighs, your chest will all be thickening, binding your with your own muscle. Making it difficult at first to move with your new found weight. And there come a point of helpless, sensual, immobility, as you strain to fuck your guide, as all the rest of us stand around and watch you, when you will feel as though you might burst. Until you do burst, deep inside him, in the most intense orgasm your body will ever experience.”

And at that instant Guy felt the twins begin to get more frantic. He felt them swell even larger inside his impossibly stretched ass. He felt them buck and then – one at a time – start to fire inside him, sweat rolling off their faces. And having relieved themselves inside him at last, they allowed him to settle down on them, engulfing the two of them as the last of their loads dribbled inside him.

“Your friend, the one who invited you here, could see how big you were already, not as big as most of us now, but bigger than almost all of us were before we drank the waters. When you have reached your potential you may be bigger even than the Founder.”

Hadad took Guy’s wrists and lifted him to his feet. Although some of the guys in the cabin were still fucking, the energy had begun to diminish. Hadad led Guy to a bottom bunk, lay down behind him and wrapped his huge arms around him. Though lying naked stem to stern occasionally reignited the fire in their groins, for the most part the two of them slept through the night.

Vampires V - Black Ambition (continued)

2008-04-27T10:21:00.000-07:00

Don't start reading here. Check out yesterday's post for the first part of the chapter. Or if you haven't read chapters one through four, check out the link to my website at the right side of this page.

Through his network of photographers, Rex found the gym that Renaldo’s brother, Rico, frequented and his workout schedule, late at night just before closing. Rex arrived early. He made a point of working out without his shirt, even though it was against the rules. He worked chest and arms. By the time Rico arrived, Rex’s upper body was marbled with thick, pulsing veins and glistening with sweat. The few people in the gym that late could hardly take their eyes off him.

Rico had planned to work legs, but when he saw Rex at the dumbbells curling 220 pounds with each arm, his biceps exploding, as full and round as footballs, he set his bag down nearby. He pulled his loose fitting sweatshirt over his head, shook his head to straighten his wavy blond hair, and picked up a pair of 80 pound dumbbells to curl. The ribbed white tank underneath clung to his torso like skin, exposing every bulge and ripple of his chest and abs. His arms, though not more than 18 inches, were tight, veined, full and well-rounded.

Rico was so gorgeous he would have made Rex hard even if he was tight and well shaped. He had the kind of thick angular jaw that seemed like it occupied half his head. His shaved beard was four shades darker than his hair. His eyes were an ethereally light blue. When he grit his teeth, he exposed two rows of dazzlingly white, perfectly shaped teeth. Rex let himself drink in the view through the mirror they shared, but he was determined to make Rico make the first move.

Rex set the dumbbells down. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and turned away. Rico spoke.

“Aren’t you Rex Jones?” he asks.

Rex turned back and extended his meaty hand. “I know you?” he asked.

“No, sir. I’m just an admirer. Rico. My name is Rico. I was in the audience at the Arnold this year. I’m a competitor myself on the natural circuit.”

Shaking his hand was making Rex’s cock swell. Even through his loose sweats it was making quite a show, especially since it reached down way below halfway to his knees. Rico’s eyes dropped for an instant to check it out and his pupils dilated. There was NO hiding Rico’s erection. He popped a woody that tented the front of his shorts. He blushed and tried to ignore it.

Rex broke their handshake and started to turn.

“You in town for long?” Rico asked.

“Tonight and tomorrow,” Rex lied. He had no intention of leaving before he’d made Rico and Renaldo his pets.

“How’d you like to use the hot tub?” Rico asked hurriedly.

“Ain’t you just starting your workout? ‘Sides, they ain’t no hot tub here.”

“Not here. Home. I – I’ve been over training. I should skip my workout.” The self-effacing nature of Rico’s shy reply was all the more obvious coming from a man who would otherwise have been supremely self-confident.

Rex acknowledged his machinations with a broad grin. Rico picked up his bag and led him out to the parking lot. Rex paused as they split towards their separate vehicles.

“You smoke weed?” Rex asked.

“Sure,” Rico answered after an uncertain pause.

Rex nodded in the direction of his rented SUV. Rex unlocked the passenger door. Rico climbed in. Rex pulled a reefer from the center console and lit up. He inhaled deeply and handed it to Rico. Rico inhaled and coughed, then inhaled again. This time he held his breath and felt the smoke seep into his bloodstream, making him light headed. Instead of taking it back, Rex motioned for him to keep smoking. Halfway through the joint Rico’s ears were ringing and his sense of time was elongated.

He glanced back at Rex. His sweat pants were tugged down and over a foot of black tube steak was poking straight up from his groin, steadied by two softball sized testicles, fuzzy like peaches.

Rex grinned at him. Rico would have faked outrage, but the weed had sapped his capacity for false indignation. Instead his eyes widened, his mouth watered and he reached over to put his hand around it as he massaged his hard-on through his shorts.

Rex pushed Rico’s head down on his cock. Rico’s mouth opened wide and he gulped up the first few inches.

“Big enough for you? Huh?” Rex taunted him. He forced his mouth down a few more inches, covering a little more than half of his fat cock flesh with Rico’s hot, wet mouth. He thrust hard up his throat and held Rico’s head still with his incredibly strong arms. Rico gagged but struggled to please him. A wide wet drop of pre-cum bled through Rico’s shorts. Rex put his hand on Rico’s ass and squeezed the thickly muscled glutes. His forefinger fell into the gap between the cheeks and he felt Rico’s puckered hole through the fabric of his shorts. It widened a bit at his touch, an involuntary invitation for a later assault.

Rico had worked his body around enough now to do a half way decent job of sucking Rex’s cock, even though it was far to large for him to do justice and by far the biggest he had ever had before. What he couldn’t suck, he jacked with his spit soaked hands. In a few minutes Rex let loose inside his mouth, holding his head down to make sure it got deep into his throat and unavoidably into his stomach.

Rico gasped for air when he let him up, red-faced, but proud to have pulled out the juice. His eyes had a half crazed look, sex-crazed. Unable to concentrate. His hands were all over Rex, rubbing his burgeoning muscles, teasing his nipples. Eventually Rex pushed him away.

“Can you drive?” Rex asked. Rico barely realized he’d been asked a question. “I didn’t think so. Put your bag in the backseat. I’ll take you home. You can come get your car tomorrow.”

The drive helped bring Rico a bit more to his senses, but he still couldn’t concentrate on much but Rex’s body and what it would feel like to get pile driven by the fuck pole he’d been unable to handle in his mouth. Consequently they made a few wrong turns before they found the house, situated at the top of hill.

They shed their clothes on the way to the hot tub. Rico saw Renaldo’s car in the driveway, but he didn’t care if he saw them.

Rex perched his smaller friend on the edge of the hot tub, his sizable fuck rod poking straight up between the twin columns of his taunt abs. Rex could almost taste the cum he was about to suck from between the man’s legs. Rex knew there was no reason to prolong the Rico’s exquisite agony. After drinking one dose of his cum, Rico could manufacture enough sperm to feed him all night long. Rex chowed down all the way, taking Rico into his throat on the first plunge ramming his thick finger into Rico’s asshole and inhaling so forcefully that Rico burst immediately, quivering and gasping for air.

Vampires V - Black Ambition

2008-04-26T11:55:00.000-07:00

This week the start of a new chapter of my Vampires story. With any luck I will finish the rest of the chapter this weekend and post it. If you are coming into this in the middle, you may want to read the earlier chapters first so you'll know who Rex is and what level one, two and three are. You can find them on my web site at http://josefhoward.home.att.net

Vampires of Sodom and Gomorrah V - Black Ambition

Rex’s relationship to Kurt didn’t end abruptly after Rex’s transformation the way Kurt’s did with Hammond. Kurt didn’t treat Rex the way Hammond had treated him. Even though neither one of them could sustain themselves having sex with the other, they still enjoyed each other and fucked around frequently. But in the weeks that followed Rex’s amazing increase in muscular development, Rex also set about building his own stable of men who could nourish him. Some of them he occasionally shared with Kurt, but it was understood between them that they belonged to Rex.

Rex chose them predominately from among his bodybuilder acquaintances, but he zeroed in on the ones who were passionate enough about well-developed men’s bodies -- not get off on their own development, but to be turned on by other outrageously large men.

After years on the bodybuilding scene Rex knew how to spot them. They were the guys whose eyes lingered a little longer than the others, who complemented him more profusely, or were compelled to knock fists or slap backs. They hung out with guys more often than women because they preferred the companionship of guys to girls, even if they were straight. For the right guy, a guy as phenomenally huge as Rex was now, they gladly disrobed in private, spread their legs and let him taste their cocks in exchange for seeing his naked body and feeling his immense hard muscles.

If Rex’s body couldn’t seduce guys like that, no one could. His arms were almost 27 inches around when they were pumped and flexed. His chest about 65 inches, and his thighs taped at 38 inches. At a height of five foot eight he was almost as broad as he was tall, and although he kept his body hair shaved, he couldn’t keep the dark stubble from showing, even on his chocolate brown skin.

One by one he not only convinced them to let him taste their cum, but he seduced them into tasting his, taking them to stage 1, ensuring their continued interest in getting milked and increasing their supply of cum beyond their own ability to exhaust it.

A few of them he took to stage 2, if it suited him to exert more control, and especially if he thought he might need something from them. But he kept them all from reaching stage 3, because Rex had plans to make use of his new found size advantage over his former peers in the bodybuilding world. He was finished with watching those less deserving than he take the Olympia while he was lucky to place in the top five. This year the crown would be his, and maybe he’d start an Olympia dynasty of his own.

That February when Rex stepped on stage at the Ironman Invitational, his first contest after reaching his 325 pound weight at the height of five foot eight, he took the bodybuilding world by storm. The other competitors, having sized him up in the pump room before, had already resigned themselves to their loss, but it was the first time any of the judges or the press had seen him in posing trunks. In the pre-judging it was all the judges could do to take their eyes off him long enough to compare him to the other competitors. The deep, deep cuts between his full, rounded muscles were inhuman. Many a red blooded straight man popped a rock hard and persistent boner at the sight of him. He handily won the contest.

The month the contest results appeared in bodybuilding rags, Rex was on the cover of Flex, Muscular Development, and Ironman simultaneously, with multi page photo spreads and accompanying articles on the biggest muscle monster in bodybuilding history. Photographers fell all over Rex, and none of them could resist his advances. Having a set of deeply devoted photographers as slavish fans only amplified Rex’s popularity in the media.

The next month Rex took his fourth Arnold Classic title, and continued an unbroken streak of victories at show after show into the summer. For a while he pretended he was undecided about competing in that year’s Olympia, but that didn’t stop the reigning Mr. Olympia from starting to sweat. When Rex finally acknowledged the inevitability of his appearance, the current Olympia re-doubled his efforts. He hired a new trainer. He changed his drug regimen and his diet, determined to come in equal to Rex’s new size, but of course he was fated to fall far short of Rex’s slim, tight waist because of his years of drug use.

Meanwhile Rex turned his attention to the probable judges for the Olympia, because Rex knew that while merit alone would carry him into the top five, merit alone would not fell the dynasty of a seven-time Olympian. To guard against bribery, the names of the judges were never announced ahead of time, but Rex used his wiles on the promoter and got a list. Once he knew who they would be, seducing them was both easier and more difficult. Almost all of them were susceptible to masculine charm, but they were scattered around the country and finding ways to meet them casually and get them into private situations was more difficult. That summer Rex spent weeks making appearances at health clubs and nutrition stores around the country, prioritizing the ones in cities the judges lived in. By September he’d laid every one of them and taken the ones he’d conquered to stage 2, where their support on the night of the contest was guaranteed.

But the second week of October, just days from the contest, the promoter called Rex. One of the judges had dropped out. There was a last minute substitution -- Renaldo Gonzalez.

Renaldo was the CEO of his own supplement company, Mutagenics Laboratories, and publisher of Mutated Muscle, which – despite the title - featured fitness type guys, not muscle freaks. Renaldo was young, handsome and fit enough to be featured in his magazine, but he only appeared in its ads. He owned half a dozen exotic cars and a large house in a Denver suburb, which he shared with his brother, an avid bodybuilder and junior partner in the company. Rumor had it that Renaldo was gay. Some even gossiped about Renaldo and his brother.

The Party

2008-03-31T21:40:00.000-07:00

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

2008-03-22T16:19:00.000-07:00

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

2008-03-18T20:13:00.000-07:00

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

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

2008-03-16T11:28:00.000-07:00

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

"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

2008-03-09T11:29:00.000-07:00

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

2008-03-05T19:05:00.000-08:00

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

2008-03-01T15:19:00.000-08:00

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/