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Hard work

by Michverdun

Marcus finds the only good thing about his new job: his massive coworker.

3,133 words Added May 2024 4,168 views 4.8 stars (12 votes)

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Only one thought could come to Marcus’s mind as he saw the mess in front of him.

This. Job. Sucks.

Which was always on his mind as he worked here in his first month. He had applied because the pay seemed nice, and because it was an outdoor job, focused on restoring the environment, which they advertised heavily. Every job posting on their website had pictures of tall mountains, deep forests, smiling faces in hard hats, all plastered with the words JOIN US! in bold white lettering. It was a good tactic, good enough for Marcus to ignore the bullet points that mentioned strenuous construction work away from home and 10+ hour days being the norm. At least the outdoor work wasn’t a lie, it was just that he was working on a noisy construction site in the middle of the woods, rather than in the middle of a town.

So, with reluctance, he got out of the truck he was sitting in during his lunch break, put on his hard hat, and saw why the work had stopped completely. An Excavator was stuck. Really stuck. It was right next to the makeshift parking lot made of gravel, and even then the mud was so deep it wasn’t moving. It was stuck halfway up its treads, and any movement from the driver just seemed to be pushing it deeper. He walked over to the two coworkers he’d worked with the most.

“What happened?”

“Dumbass thought he could just drive right over there and fix part of the stream bank,” Dan said. “It was raining all last night. No way the ground could carry something that heavy.”

Marcus watched as the driver in the excavator tried to use the bucket to push himself up, which only resulted in him sinking even farther into the mud.

“I can’t even think of how we’d get that thing out today,” Evan said. “Might need to call someone to tow it.”

“So, does that mean we get to go back to the hotel early?” Marcus asked.

“No, we’d just have to work for longer because we have one less excavator, but that doesn’t matter: we got Mitch here, don’t we?” Dan said.

Oh, right, there was another person that Marcus hadn’t met yet, as they kept getting assigned to different work sites. Marcus didn’t even know what the guy looked like, but what was he gonna do? Evan just said there wasn’t any equipment that could pull that thing out of the mud, and the guys that had Marcus’s position weren’t cleared to use it anyway.

“Where the hell is he, then?” Evan asked. It was clear he was starting to get pissed off.

“You know where he is,” Dan said.

The look on Evan’s face changed to one of anger and… embarrassment? The two stayed quiet for a moment, before Evan actually acknowledged Marcus was there.

“Hey, Mark, go find Mitch. He should be out that way,” Evan pointed to part of the stream that had already been restored. “Tell him that he needs to come back because an excavator got stuck, he’ll know what to do.”

Marcus wanted to protest, he was clearly the least qualified person for the job, but before he could get a word out Evan walked out to his truck, probably to go get a signal and tell the boss something happened. Or to just slack off, you could never know with the guy. That left Dan, and getting Dan to do something was like pulling teeth. No use fighting that.

Marcus walked off towards the already completed stream, looking out for anyone in the forest edges. He decided to just try following the mainstem of the stream at first, no use in running down any tributary to find nothing and have to come back. After a bit of searching, he finally found something.

On either side of the stream, there were steep tree covered slopes leading to more forested areas. On one side Marcus could see a pair of large bootprints leading up into that forested area. Marcus followed them, being careful not to slip, while noticing just how big the prints were. Marcus’s feet weren’t small, he was pretty average in his build, but his feet were dwarfed by these boots.

“Is he wearing fucking clown shoes?” Marcus muttered to himself.

He reached a flat point near the top of the hill, and saw that the boot prints continued parallel to the small plateau. He continued to follow the prints deeper into the forest, but now that he was out of earshot of the equipment, he could hear someone. The voice was deep, but he couldn’t make any words out.

As he followed the boot prints and the voice, through a forest of tall maple trees, Marcus realized that whoever the voice was coming from, probably Mitch, he wasn’t saying words. He was just… grunting, for some reason. Plus, Marcus was starting to smell something in the air. He couldn’t quite place it but it was pungent.

Marcus kept going, with the sound of that grunting getting louder, that pungent smell he couldn’t quite place, getting stronger, until he finally saw Mitch.

He had caught his coworker with his pants down, but that wasn’t even what registered in his mind, just that he was the biggest man that he had ever seen. Starting from the dropped pants, his eyes traced up, putting any bodybuilder who said they had “Tree-trunk legs” to shame. His calves had more muscle in them than most people had in their thighs, looking like twin footballs filled to the point of bursting, with his skin somehow still able to hold on. Above that, the only thing he could compare the man’s thighs to were barrels, giant rounded cylinders full of beef. Marcus couldn’t even understand how the man could even bend his knees with that much muscle on his legs.

However, the man’s knees did bend, as he had taken up a wide stance to accommodate his massive balls. They were the size of cantaloupes, two gargantuan churning nuts, and Marcus almost expected them to hit the ground with how large and heavy they seemed, with the stimulation they received on seeming to make them swell.

Above that was the only thing that could put his balls to shame: the bulging globes of his ass. Marcus almost started drooling when he saw them, perfectly round, with a light dusting of brown hair. Actually all of the man was hairy, but the way it accentuated his ass, lighter on the sides and getting deeper into his crack, it was magnificent.

Above that, Marcus could see the expanse of his sweaty back, lats flared out as if he had wings. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, but his company-mandated hi-vis vest was drenched with sweat, and was torn down both of its sides to make room for the inhuman width of the man. He looked like he was as wide as two—no, three—people. Hell, if Marcus was looking at him right, he was probably 6 feet tall and almost as wide! His arms were mostly obscured, as apparently jerking off for him was a two handed endeavor, but from the flashes he saw from behind the man’s back, they easily held up compared to the rest of him.

Looking further up, he could see the man’s cannonball shoulders swing with every stroke of his cock, and traps that would easily overtake a neck, if Marcus could see it behind the mane of brown hair. He didn’t have to, he could already imagine the thickly corded neck, tensing with every noise he made.

Marcus was in a total trance, his own hand slipped down into his pants, grabbing hold of his own dick and stroking it to the same rhythm of his beast of a coworker. He’d only seen one side of the man and already his mind was completely shattered. How could someone like this even exist? He took a deep breath, only to get a whiff of the same pungent smell he had been following all the way here. It was coming from him.

Mitch kept jerking off, his strokes getting faster as his grunts became louder and more desperate. Marcus could swear the man’s balls were swelling right before his eyes, veins suddenly becoming more visible everywhere on his body. His panting became even more labored, as if he was in physical pain, until finally the dam broke.

Mitch let out what could only be considered a roar, an earth-shaking howl as he blew. Marcus, ran behind a tree, half for cover, and half because of his realization that what he did was going to get him fired. Yet, he still watched as load after load of cum shot out of Mitch’s cock painting the tree that he was facing. Each shot looked like more cum than Marcus could have shot out in a year, and it just kept going. For minutes the man stayed still, just letting his massive dick dump buckets of cum on that same tree. However, even though it felt like ages, eventually he finally ran out of cum.

Marcus watched as the man started to put his pants back on, trying desperately to fit his massive dick in his underwear. He still could only see the man’s back, but the way the man said “Fuck!” “Goddamnit!” and “Get in there!” told Marcus that it was a struggle to stuff it in his pants. He took the moment to get some distance between the larger man, and started to look around the forest as if he hadn’t watched the man blow a world record load. He could still hear the jingling of a belt buckle, and the steps of the man getting closer to him.

“Hey, are you…Mitch…” Marcus trailed off as the man was standing right in front of him.

The front of Mitch didn’t disappoint compared to his back. His vest was unzipped almost halfway, and was still stretched to its absolute limit due to his traps and the two massive pecs that jut out a couple of feet in front of the man, almost reaching his chin. The beard he had actually did seem very close to touching his chest, just out of reach for now. A slight twitch of his pecs showed off all of the thickly corded muscle that made up the mounds of beef, all covered with a thick pelt of hair. And his arms, god his arms! Marcus got light headed even looking at him. He couldn’t even imagine all of that muscle on just one limb, and there it was in front of him. That arm probably weighed more than he did. How did he even flex the damn thing?

“Yeah, you’re the new guy! Marcus, right?” Mitch held out his hand, which Marcus shook to try and act calm. He couldn’t tell if the wet feeling in his hands was sweat or something else.

“Yeah, Dan and Evan said I needed to come get you, there’s an excavator stuck.”

“Oh fuck yes!” Mitch said, pumping his fist in the air. “Finally, some actual work. C’mon.” Without a second to waste, Mitch lumbered back to the construction site, gait as wide as he could possibly make it. Marcus followed behind watching the twin globes of Mitch’s ass stretch his jeans to the absolute limit. He looked back for only a second, to see the tree Mitch was standing at painted completely white just from his cum.

The walk back was painful for Marcus, who had to fight with the hardest boner he’d ever had in his life, made only harder when he caught up to Mitch and looked down at his jeans again. One of the man’s pant legs was much bigger than the other, with his massive cock stretching almost to Mitch’s knee. The thing had to be over a foot long, maybe even two, and even with his cock stuffed in his pant leg his balls still stretched out the crotch area, denim ready to break at any moment.

“Oh damn!” Mitch said. Finally getting a sight of the stuck excavator. He jogged over to it, causing Marcus to run and catch up.

When the pair finally got to the site, it was pretty empty. Evan was gone, probably to go call the boss, but everyone else was either in the truck they brought to site. Dan was still out, talking with the guy who had gotten the excavator stuck, but both of them conspicuously avoided Mitch’s gaze when he walked through the site.

Mitch walked over near the excavator, right where the gravel parking lot turned to mud and nodded. He took a careful step closer, until he was right on the edge of the gravel.

“So how are you gonna get it out?” Marcus said, still standing near the man.

“How do you think I’m gonna do it?” Mitch said as he grabbed the tread of the excavator and squatted down. “You know what they say, lift with you knees, not with your back—”

At the word “Back” Mitch immediately started to pull up on the side of the excavator. Marcus’s mouth was wide open in shock. That excavator was 20 tons. 40,000 pounds of steel, and Mitch was trying to lift it out of the ground. And it was working. He watched his coworker turn a shade of bright red from exertion, veins visible through his pants as he slowly tried to stand up. Beads of sweat dripped off of Mitch’s brow, as the mud slowly gave up on the machine. A small rip formed right on the side of Mitch’s right pant leg, the pump causing the denim to give up. However, Marcus could see it wasn’t just that. Mitch’s monstrous cock thickened in the pant leg, stretching the material so thin Marcus could see individual veins throbbing on his dick. He was getting hard again.

“Fuckkkkkk…” Mitch moaned, the metal of the excavator screaming as the beast holding it started to bend the treads. Nothing could stop him. “Yeaaaaah!”

The excavator finally popped out of the hole with Mitch’s roar. Marcus watched as the beast of the man took one heavy step, then another, until he had finally turned around. His eyes were shut, with every ounce of his strength being used to hold the excavator up. Marcus could see his arms shake, as the entire 20 ton force was held up by just his two hands. There was no way he could keep that thing up without using his entire body.

Mitch, as if he could hear Marcus’s thoughts, let out an inhuman groan as he slowly brought the excavator closer to his heaving chest. His biceps bulged with power, multiple veins suddenly appearing as the muscle bunched up. The mountain of a bicep, looking as if it wanted to split Mitch’s skin, just kept swelling, way beyond what could be considered a normal pump. Mitch brought the giant machine as close as he could, but the size of his biceps impeded a full rep.

Nevertheless, Mitch screamed out “ONE,” as Marcus moaned, watching the man’s muscles look as if they were going to burst. No, this wasn’t happening. Marcus couldn’t believe it. It looked as if Mitch had used everything he had just getting the excavator out of the mud, and now he was curling it? For reps?

“TWO,” Mitch bellowed, as he brought the excavator back down and then back up. Marcus could see his entire body somehow getting a pump from the weight, veins appearing on every muscle. They throbbed in time, feeding every inch of the man with more blood and testosterone to pump his muscles bigger. His forearms welled out wider and wider

“THREE,” Mitch roared. A wet spot formed on his jeans, right at his knee where his massive throbbing cockhead stretched against the fabric. His bicep almost obscured his head, a bright red mountain of muscle threatening to split his skin with the intensity of his pump. Marcus felt his own cock spasm in his jeans, completely out of any cum to spill.

“FOUR,” Mitch roared, the voice rumbling even through Marcus’s chest. He was visibly struggling now, his body actually finding its upper limit. Apparently curling a 40,000-pound machine for reps was the limit of his superhuman strength. Marcus could also see his expression change slightly, was he… mad about that?

“F-FIIIIIIVE.” The sound Mitch made could barely be recognized as human, much less a coherent word. He could only guess he was still counting up, as against all odds his body brought the weight back up. His pump— no that wasn’t true. Marcus could see now that it wasn’t a pump, he was growing. His body was taking every second he struggled and forcing him to get even bigger to combat it. There was no more room for muscle on his body, and yet he was still growing. His pants ripped in 6 different places, leaving them almost shredded. His vest suppressed a similar fate, trying in vain to capture traps that were reaching his ears and pecs that just kept pushing out. As he reached the peak of his rep, a stretch mark on his bicep widened, as his skin hit a limit that his muscles wanted to ignore. There was only one word Marcus could find to describe him: Grotesque.

The excavator hit the ground with a crash, as Mitch dropped it unceremoniously. The tread was pretty badly bent, and that meant the thing was out of commission. However, Mitch seemed more interested in his own muscles.

“Yeah, that’s a pretty good pump,” Mitch growled as he flexed his bicep. The mountain of beef was incredible to witness, framed by an equally thick forearm and bulging shoulder. “What do you think? 50 inches?” Mitch called out to Marcus.

Marcus could feel his mind taking a snapshot of the man, his muscles making an imprint on his mind for the rest of his life. Now he could say he got something good out of this job.

3,133 words Added May 2024 4,168 views 4.8 stars (12 votes)

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