Being a college student in a small town sucks. Especially if you’re gay. There are not too many places—bars, clubs, etc.—to begin with, but the online dating sites also show only one or two hot men in my area. And if they’re fake or just don’t answer, well, that’s my luck.
Okay, I admit, I have a very specific preference when it comes to sexual taste. I like older, muscular men, let’s say between 30 and 60. The more muscles, the better. I never really found guys my age attractive. I’d much rather have the muscle daddy types. If he’s hairless, then it’s a bull’s eye. Well, there were not too many of that type of men around here.
After about half a year of college I decided it was time to scout in the bigger city that was about 3 hours’ drive away. I logged in my profile there and found the selection way more interesting. I started chatting with a few guys, but I needed a firm date before actually taking the 3-hour trip there.
One day, this guy called “bull435” as a nickname, caught my attention. He had only one picture, a really huge, wide back, on his profile. I usually prefer profiles with face pictures. You can have as many muscles and weight as you want, but if I’d have to put you a shopping bag on to cover your face first, then it’s just not gonna work. But I thought, what the heck. His stats were promising: age 45, 198 cm tall, 125 kg. I was myself 190 tall with an athletic build, so anyone who was taller than me immediately got my attention. And asking for his face picture right away might not get me anywhere. So I started by sending him a few shirtless pictures of myself and asked if he could also show me something more.
A few hours go by and my laptop beeps that certain kind of ringtone. I luckily have a room for my own in the appartement, so there’s no way anyone else would hear it. I was reading an article for an essay I’m writing and was somewhere else with my thoughts, so I clicked with an automatic boredom on the tab of the dating site to open the message. The bull has answered.
“Sure,” he said. “You are a quite fine lad yourself.”
“Lad”? I thought to myself. Wow, this guy must be old-fashioned, didn’t expect that. I clicked on the attachment and was not disappointed. A massive, brown-haired, round faced, shirtless, bearded man was striking a double biceps pose for the camera that was placed below him. This angle made him look even taller than he was, as if he’d burst through the ceiling any moment. His arms were bulging in both directions, seemingly about as big as his head. I saw a few shadows of his bulging abs around his belly. He was not slim, on the contrary: a lot of muscle was packed on and around his stomach, creating a beefy but very athletic built. I already forgot about my article and wondered, how this man can look so beefy but athletic at the same time. As if he could be either of it, depending on his mood. I looked at this picture a couple of minutes, when another beep came from the chat.
“Do you like what you see?” he inquired.
“Oh, yes, you are very much my type,” I replied. “It’s impressive what you have built up. Congrats!” I like to start off with a compliment. That sets the other one in a good mood, being more likely to go on an actual date.
“Thanks. I have to pay attention though, it could get out of hand.”
I was confused. “What do you mean?” But there was no answer right away. What could get out of hand? Is he using steroids? In that case the worry would be understandable. I got back to reading, but this guy really tickled my mind and I couldn’t focus. I wanted to know more about him. After about 5 minutes he wrote:
“Well, you wouldn’t believe it if I told it to you in chat.”
This confused me even more. Is he playing some game? I got really curious about this handsome colossus of a man. I don’t like endless chats, so I got to the point right away:
“In that case, you have to tell me about it in person :) Would you be up for a date?”
I got a little nervous. Maybe I was too fast. I hoped that I didn’t scare him away with being too direct.
“On your profile it says that you are not from the city. Are you going to be here over the weekend?”
Well, I haven’t planned anything yet, so I might as well make a trip and have some fun time there.
“Would you stay at my place?”
Wow, that went fast, I thought. That would make things a lot easier, and even if it’s not a match, I can just go and take the next train home. Or go cruising in a bar or something. So what’s the harm?
As I was looking up how much a train ticket cost, the chat beeped again:
“I mean, we don’t have to, if you’re not into sexdates. But I really find you attractive and instead of grabbing a beer somewhere in a crowded gay bar, I’d offer you one in my house :)”
Things couldn’t have gone better. Here’s this huge man, wanting to invite me in his house and jump right into bed. Finally. My penis started to tingle just at the thought of it. It has been long, since he got the taste of a real man!
“Thanks for the invitation! I will gladly visit you at your house :)”
In a few seconds he wrote me back:
“Great! :) :) :) I’m really happy to meet you.”
We agreed that he will pick me up at the train station. His house was somewhere in the suburbs, so it the best if he just took me there with his car.
I smirked. This weekend is gonna be good, I thought. I didn’t know what impossible fantasies were going to come true with a god-like muscleman…
I stepped out of the train. The bull told me that he would look for me on the platform, so I wouldn’t get lost in the busy central station. I figured it would be easy to spot him with his height and physique. Boy I was right. I barely turned my head to the right and I spotted a big tower sticking out way above the sea of people surrounding him. The crowd, like water around an island, parted its way to get around his broad body and met together after a long detour behind his huge back. Our eyes met and with a smile, he started moving towards me. He was like a massive freighter in a narrow river of passengers. As he got close, I noticed that he wore a very big and loose shirt, covering up his whole mass. He was big without question, but in his current outfit one couldn’t tell whether he was muscular or just beefy. I could even make out a bulging belly under that shirt. All in all, he made the impression of a very big, slightly balding middle-aged man. He smiled at me and shook my hand. His palm was astounding huge and warm. With his size and kind aura he was radiating a special kind of hotness, an impression of a nice giant, buried deep within his somewhat unfashionable look.
“Nice to meet you,” he said. “I’m happy you got here all right. I’m Henry.”
“Nice to meet you Henry, I’m Dean.” He was still holding my hand in his palm, not letting go, letting me feel his warm and tight grip.
Henry led me through the busy station, breaking through the crowd slowly, but steadily. His big body was not bothered by the mass of the people, he was easily stepping forward without having to go around anybody. As I was walking behind him, I noticed that the back part of his baggy pants was really big. The fabric was not tight, but it had a lot to hide. His buttcheeks were moving up and down at every step, one at a time. I had to think about Mowgli of The Jungle Book, who was riding on the back of Balu the Bear, bouncing at every step of his. I was sure that a person could easily travel on Henry’s outwards bulging butt, but I didn’t dare to ask it… yet.
We got out and got in his car. He was driving a big SUV, although it seemed that he had to squeeze himself even in this model. I had the feeling of being very little in Henrys regular environment. Maybe this was how short people felt around me?
On the way we introduced ourselves a little. Henry was a professor and researcher at the local university on the faculty of Biology. He’d bought a house recently, because he felt too crammed in any city apartment.
“These new buildings are just not designed for people my size,” he said. “If we had a nice downtown from the turn of the century like they have in most big European cities, we would have these bourgeois apartments with a ceiling height over 3 meters. I would fit in there, but not in these cells that they call rooms. So I decided to build a house for my own… needs.”
“Wait, you built a house yourself?”
“Well, I had a few experts around me who told me where to put what, but I did most of the hard work.”
“Wow, that must have taken years to finish! You sure are dedicated.”
He just shrugged his big, round shoulders. “It would have been done in half a year, if I could’ve found those experts more easily… it’s difficult to find reliable architects around here…”
And he gave me a lecture about how people are unreliable in this field. I couldn’t really focus on what he was saying, as I was imagining this giant lifting up one concrete block after another, not tiring out during the process. I know it was impossible, but it still sprung my penis into a considerable bulge. I quickly grabbed my pants and set my junk back into a less noticeable position. He caught a glimpse of that and just smirked and I saw a big twitch under his shirt. Did he just flex his chest? Or did it happen from shifting gears? The air in the car slowly filled up with a mix of a nice cologne and some manly musk. It was a hot summer day and his shirt started to get deep traces of sweat.
“Sorry, the car’s AC is broken,” said Henry as he licked his gleaming lips. His sweat was trickling down his freshly shaved, XXXL-sized neck. He pulled down the window. “But we are gonna be there in 10 minutes.” After that he put his big hand with a smooth casualness on my leg and squeezed my thigh. I was so mesmerized from this giant man that I got a boner in a few seconds. All I wanted to do is to discover all the meaty secrets his clothes were hiding. This man was powerful and gentle at the same time, which sent me butterflies in my stomach.
We pulled over at the driveway of a house that I thought was a three-story building. Looking at it further I realized that it has just two stories, but with a ceiling height big enough to fit two old wooden wardrobes on top of each other. It certainly was a house for someone who wanted to brag about his money or just really liked having a lot of space between his head and the ceiling. As Henry got out of the car, I understood how this man had to bend his back in every ordinary building and that he wanted to be able to stretch out his full mass in his own home. We made our way into the hallway and from there to the living room. Suddenly I felt like a little kid again. Everything, even the furniture was in proportion with the size of the house. On the couch I could’ve laid down and spread out my limbs in all directions without reaching any end of it. I was not used to having so much space in a private house, but I certainly liked the feeling.
“Look, I’ve just been to the gym. Let me take a quick shower. Make yourself comfortable on the couch. Turn on the TV if you want.”
I nodded and set my backpack aside and hopped on the couch. The trip was a long one and it felt good to lay down a little and stretch out. As I was looking at the ceiling, the picture he sent me popped into my mind where he was photographed from below and looked like his head was close to the ceiling. It must have been an optical illusion, right? If a man my height would stand on my shoulders, it would still not be enough to touch it. I grabbed my phone and looked at the picture again. Yep, this is the room… But it indeed looks as if he would be close to bumping his head into the ceiling. Strange…
About fifteen minutes later he came back from the bathroom. He’d switched his clothes to some cargo shorts and a regular t-shirt, which allowed me to finally examine his physique. I certainly liked what I saw. His buff body was definitely packed with more muscle than fat. His shoulders were incredibly wide. His chest was bulging forward, ending in two downwards pointing nipples that almost pierced through the fabric of his t-shirt. His arms were naturally bending away from his torso because of the meaty muscles packed on them. The relaxed fit of his t-shirt still held the true definition of his arms hidden, but judging from his massive shoulders I was sure he had muscles on them. The belly was still visible, which gave his body a kind of strongman touch with a powerful core. His hips were very wide, revealing a bulging, meat-packed butt that was formed out of two huge muscle globes. I caught myself staring intensely at his body, almost dropping my jaw. He just laughed it off and hopped next to me on the couch. “So you still like, what you see? I’m glad.”
“Are you kidding me?” I replied, watching his gargantuan, hairless thighs spread out as he sat. “You look absolutely buff! But why do you hide it with such big clothes?”
“Well,” he slapped on his tight legs, “I can’t really go like this to the university. It would draw too much attention.” He smiled, as he twitched his big pecs, this time definitely on purpose. I just couldn’t stop staring. I could have done anything, just to slap one on those gorgeous pecs of his.
Luckily he didn’t let me wait too long before he grabbed my head from the back and pulled in for a sloppy kiss. He immediately made his way with his surprisingly broad tongue into my mouth, filling it almost completely. His tongue was so big, I thought I would suffocate, but I slowly regained my stand as I started licking it around with my own. He bit my lips a little, his short blonde beard tickling my nose. He had absolute control. From the moment of his first touch I had to give myself completely in to his radiating power which tolerated no resistance. My hand wandered on his leg that was tighter than iron to the touch. As my hand slid across it, the skin above the hard muscles just seemed to have no end in any direction. He pulled me over on himself, so that i kneeled over his thighs. Actually I was kneeling on his thighs, as they were too wide in both direction for my hips to stretch over them. The fabric of his shorts was filled to the limit, as it would take a single flex of his leg muscles to tear it apart. From this position I had the chance to put my hands on his bulging chest before leaning in for another kiss. They gave in to the pressure and I could massage the two bowling balls of meat as I let him penetrate my mouth again. Suddenly something other than his arms lifted me slightly off of my place. His bulge was getting bigger and as he pumped some extra blood in it, he easily lifted me off a few centimeters.
The next thing I know is that he pulled off his own t-shirt and threw it away. I did the same. Finally the sight of his upper body got free and I had the chance to examine the consistency of his meat. The most interesting part for me was his stomach. It was definitely round, not flat, but one could still make out the silhouette of the abdominals. To the touch it felt just as tight as the legs. His skin started to glisten overall again. I started to rub his belly, searching for a week, softer spot, but it seemed that it was just as packed with pure muscle as anything else on his body. I started to realize that Henry has maybe absolutely no fat and all the roundness comes from the muscles that just need space to take for themselves…
“Punch it!” Henry told me with a challenging tone in his voice.
“Are you sure?” I didn’t want to hurt him or anything.
“Yes, just do it!”
I gave his abs a light push. It felt as if I would punch an unbreakable wall. “Stronger!” he commanded, filling up with lust. I punched again and again, building up my strength, but his stomach did not even bulge a little bit. My strikes got stronger and stronger every time, always getting more momentum, but it felt as if a child would try to punch a hole in a sandbag. Henry got fired up: “Yes! YES!!!!” He grinned and seemingly enjoyed the demonstration of his thickness. After a minute his whole body was drenched in glistening sweat. Even with my strongest punch I couldn’t make any visible impact on his rock hard stomach. After my last try I stopped and panted from exhaustion. He laughed loud in my face and pulled my head right into his soaked wet cleavage. He clearly won, not that I had a chance to begin with. I could feel that this man’s strength is on another level. I was lost in an endless bathe of muscle, sweat and skin. He was still laughing with triumph and did not let me go off his chest. The sweat started to fill up in his cleavage, which I began to drink, as a kind of consolation prize he gave me. His salty body fluid endlessly filled my whole mouth and I had the feeling of never being thirsty again. After a minute, as I wasn’t able to drink anymore, I rose back up from his chest, mesmerized from the experience of his show-off.
“Wow,” I panted, “that was… amazing…” The words just blurted out of me, I couldn’t think clear. The big man was also short of breath, but he was seemingly enjoying his superiority.
Henry was also breathing heavily, with every breath raising his huge, rock-hard belly higher.
“Just give me a minute. It’s getting really hot in here.” He was right. The room temperature and humidity rose in the room. He was dripping sweat everywhere. “When I get hot, the whole house gets heated up. If you keep me arousing like this, I will make the whole house a steamroom!” He laughed and grabbed me below my armpits and took me on his stomach, as if I wouldn’t weigh more than a pillow. I almost slipped down on his extending, sweaty skin. He took a really big breath, raising me together with his huge abs about 20 centimeters in the air, then he exhaled, creating a smaller air turbulence in the room. The hot air got blown on the plants near the window, moving their leaves as in a strong summer wind.
While he was getting himself together, I took the chance to massage his round, slippery pecs. They didn’t fit under my hands. On the bottom where his breasts contacted his belly, I could slip my fingers under his chest. My palm slipped in deep till the end of my fingers. It was surprisingly warm. I rose with my hands his breasts, releasing a flow of sweat trapped under his muscle pecs. As I lifted the meat, hot air escaped with a certain rough, manly smell. He watched me caressing his chest, licking lustily his salty lips. Then he grabbed my head and pulled me in for our second kiss. It was even more demanding than the first one: he basically penetrated my mouth with his wide tongue. The fluids of his sweat from his lips and of his saliva mixed together in an irresistible puddle of life in our mouths. We spent the next few minutes knotted together, exploring each other’s body while not even coming up for some air from our kiss. We didn’t need it. All we needed was smelling, tasting, touching the other.
“You are one reeeeeallly fine lad,” Henry said with a smile on his face, after a length time that felt like a perfect eternity.