I first met Anders in the gym, between sets. He was a big, beautiful blonde Swedish boy, really ripped, sweating from his workout. He wiped his forehead with one of his forearms. That's what I noticed about him. He had four of them.
I looked again. Sure enough, four. Four arms, dangling there, except the one he just wiped his forehead with. All four of them were gleaming with sweat, their muscles shining. I couldn't help it; I was boned just looking at the four of them. No wonder he was sweating. He had four awesome arms to work out with, not just two.
He was nice about my staring; he didn't mind, and he understood that guys would need to stare at a guy with four arms, especially in a gym. Guys look amazing enough when they've got two well-developed arms, ropey with muscle, but it's an another order of magnitude when a guy's got two sets of them. And Anders had two beautiful sets of arms indeed, their muscles comfortably bumping each other all the time.
Boned as I was, I managed to keep my composure, although I'm sure he could tell I was turned on just looking at him. He was so polite about it, it only turned me on more.
I managed to keep my wits about me, and I started by asking about him and where he was from.
He was here on a visa, still finding himself. First he'd wanted to be an actor. It was all I could do to maintain eye contact with Anders, what with the glow and warmth of his four limber arms as they continued to communicate among themselves with occasional little bumps or strokings as he talked (thankfully he had beautiful eyes and an honest smile that were so easy to gaze at as well!).
While he hadn't given up on becoming an actor, he'd gotten a special extension of his visa by agreeing to grow four arms for his government as a participant in an experimental program that was administered by a private joint-venture firm. It was a cellular loading regimen which had proven to cause spontaneous regeneration of the loaded limbs. They were most interested in studying the accompanying brain and nerve pathway development that enabled him to use all four arms as unconsciously and naturally as if he had only two of them.
In the midst of explaining how he decided to grow four arms, he caught himself and smiled, offering me one of his right hands. “I forget my manners,” he smiled,extending the right hand while his other right hand and his two left hands hung relaxed. I took it and we shook hands.
You know how some handshakes feel different than others? Some can be careless, or too stiff, or not comfortable, the two hands not really meeting.
Anders had one of the few wonderful handshakes you encounter every now and then, his hand fully welcoming mine and gently possessing mine for that second, while fully giving of its beauty—we both started a little, suprised by the warmth and enthusiasm of our connection. I gave the hand back to Anders, where it rejoined its companion right hand as they hung close to each other. I wanted to shake his other right hand as well.
“Which right hand do you usually shake hands with,” I asked, curious.
He raised both right wrists slightly, which caused some movement in both his right arms' delts and biceps. My eyes looked longingly at the smooth swell of his twin right forearms, brushing each other, and their strong wrists as his right hands hung from them, Anders looking at both of his right hands with some confusion.
“I don't know,” he said. “I guess either one.”
“I should probably shake your other one, as well.”
“I guess so,” he smiled, and he got his first right hand out of the way and brought his second right hand forward, and I shook hands with him again, this time with his second right hand.
It was amazing; his second right hand was as glad to shake hands as his first right hand was, if not more so, almost feeling as if it was relieved to finally be included. It felt just as beautiful as his first right hand, and my own right hand was almost blushing with the beauty of this second handshake, which again ended politely, the two of his right hands rejoining each other's company.
“I guess I never thought of that,” he smiled, enjoying the thought of being able to offer two right hands to shake hands with. We were both enjoying the feeling of arousal of so much gentle contact of hands. I mean, there he was with four of them, and he was just getting how cool it was.
My mind was racing, sort of boned in its own way. I was sure he'd like to get both of his left hands involved too, and I guessed that if I could get him to shake hands with both his right hands at once, it wouldn't be that much of a leap to get him to shake hands with all four of his hands. I amazed myself with the invitation I thought up on the spot:
“It must be awkward of you to have to shake hands with me with your first right hand and then again with your second right hand,” I said. He smiled in agreement, all four of his shoulders unconsciously shrugging their consent.
“We should probably let you shake hands with both of your right hands at once, don't you think? It would only be polite of me,” I said, offering him both my hands.
With some confusion he looked at both of his right hands, which also looked like they were sort of confused, but then they figured out that they were both in for another nice handshake, so they arranged themselves, and he offered me both his right hands. They were so nice in both my hands!
Anders had to sort of flip his other right hand in order to grasp my left hand with it, like someone does when his right hand is unavailable. It was only a little bit awkward, but that gentle welcoming comfort was so wonderful again from both his right hands.
It felt wonderful holding his two right hands, and he smiled with pleasure as well. I enjoyed it even more because when his one right hand gently released my left hand, he forgot to release my right hand with his other right hand. Obviously, it took a little more thought for him to learn to operate four hands.
Or, maybe it was a little confusing because we were both pleasantly aroused, dealing with so much friendly hand contact among so many beautiful hands! I was so ready to shake all four of his hands now, and I'm sure he was too.
Anders was smiling and flushed, obviously aroused, not even aware that his four beautiful hands were all sort of hanging their stupidly from his four strong wrists, almost as if the four of them were hoping to all get to play.
I smiled at him and lightly touched my fingertips on the wrists of all four of his hands, as if he even needed reminding that he had four of them.
“I just realized, since I'm using my right and left hands, you may as well be allowed to do the same thing,” I smiled. “I mean, if I use both, why shouldn't you? Two hands or four, it shouldn't make any difference.”
He smiled, enjoying this, and besides, it made a certain amount of sense to him, so he brought all four of his hands together and I almost swooned with the sweet feel of all four of his beautiful hands around mine, both of us smiling and a little flushed.
It was amazing to feel four of his large, handsome hands gently wrapped around the two of mine, as all four of his arms went from his four wide shoulders to this juncture of his four beautiful hands. We both were looking at them and probably both of us were thinking, wow, that's a lot of nice hands, and it was.
It was pleasant and kind of intense for both of us, and I think I surprised us both when I pulled his four hands toward me and brought them to my lips, kissing the four of them, and looking up at his surprised, flushed face.
“Sorry, I've just never touched four hands at once, all on the same guy, I smiled, not letting go of his four hands, not wanting to.
He had a beautiful smile, and his four hands were relaxed in mine. “I understand,” he smiled. “I am still not used to all of them; I have so many hands.”
“You do,” I smiled. I picked one by its wrist and wiggled the wrist, the hand waggling heavily below, then set it down with the others and picked up another wrist, waggling it, then did the same with the third hand and the fourth hand.
He was enjoying his four hands and my holding them. I pulled all four of them around my waist, drawing him to me. I noticed his parted lips, and I kissed them as well.
He may have had four arms, but even with all their muscles, all four of them were helpless right now, and I don't think he even knew where his four hands were, but they were all on me, all four of them holding me as I kissed him. And then the four of them seemed to come alive, gently surrounding me and then suddenly pulling me hard against him. We kissed hard! And right there, in the gym, we both came, standing there together, me locked in Anders' muscle palace of arms.
My head was spinning, and his was for sure, but I felt strong enough to steady him as he swayed.
I felt the muscles enwrapping me relax a little, as we stayed in our embrace, our chests rising and falling against each others' as we stood there warm together, loving the sound of our breathing and feeling our pulses subsiding gradually. “That was nice,” he said, a few moments later, when he could speak again.
His hands found mine; I held the four of his beautiful hands in mine, and he cradled my face with two of his hands and brought my lips to his for another kiss. It was wonderful, and it lasted.
We stood there, foreheads together after our kiss, swimming with the warmth of our closeness, the tang of our come starting to waft upward from our hot, come-soaked penises. I kissed the wrists of the beautiful hands that still cradled my face, and then I looked down at the four of his hands that I still held in mine.
He did, too, and he laughed gently, squeezing my shoulders gently with the two hands that had cradled my face, squeezing my hands with the four of his that held mine.
“They told me this might happen,” he laughed, kissing me again, squeezing me again with his six hands, then wrapping his six muscular arms gently around me.
“It's cool with me,” I smiled.
“Let's shake on it,” he smiled, as we both boned anew.