Description Zeke, an 18 year-old gorgeous stud, was already big before some very special visitors seem to have given him a special ability to grow and grow, bigger and bigger, stronger and stronger.
|Updated||19 May 2017|
Dr. Brian Kerr lay in his bed, his wife sleeping soundly next to him in the predawn darkness. He caught his alarm clock before it rang. Slowly, being sure not to disturb his wife, he crept out of bed and into the adjoining bathroom. His cock was rock-hard. Was he horny or was it just morning wood?
He closed the door and turned on the light. He opened the shower and turned on the water, warming it. Slowly, he peeled off his T-shirt, revealing a hardened, muscular torso. His cock bounced as it acknowledged his buff body. For a 36 year-old man, his physique was an eye turner. His thick, vein-lined arms flexed and tightened as he slipped his hands into his boxers. Shit, his cock was HARD and big. No doubt about it, he was horny.
He pulled off his boxers and slipped into the shower. As he lathered himself, he began fantasizing about bodybuilders. Who would it be this morning? Kerr had a fetish for huge, lean bodybuilders. Since his late grade school years he had fantasized about musclemen.
His mind landed on a young muscleman named Adam, whom he had seen on a website. The huge, ripped bodybuilder began to strip, in his mind. He flexed and posed as Kerr soaped up his penis. Within a minute, Kerr was spraying the tile of his shower as the bodybuilder grinned in approval, in Kerr’s mind. It was a much more intense orgasm than usual, and it lasted nearly a full minute. Shit.
Kerr dried and dressed. He gave his wife a peck on the cheek as she rolled over and smiled. He jumped into his BMW. All the way there, his mind kept returning to the bodybuilder he had fantasized about in the shower. Not too usual, but the muscle fantasies seemed more alive than he was used to.
At the clinic, Dr. Kerr sat down at his desk. His cock was hard again. He had a few minutes before his first appointment, so he pulled out a desk drawer and opened a magazine, keeping it hidden in the drawer in case someone came in. His fingers flipped the pages as his opposite hand nursed his swollen cock.
“Dr. Kerr,” the intercom interrupted. Kerr, nearly slammed his finger in the drawer as the voice startled him. “Your first appointment is here. It’s a Mr. Strong, for a consultation appointment in your office.”
“Show him in,” Kerr said somewhat irritated. If it was an appointment in his office, it was undoubtedly a pharmaceutical salesman.
The door opened and the nurse directed a man in. Kerr’s heart nearly stopped; his stomach tightened at the sight of this man. He was huge; well over six feet tall. And even in his business suit, his muscular physique was astounding. Huge, broad shoulders spread out from a thick, muscled neck. His chest filled his suit and pushed against it, spreading his lapel. This guy obviously spent some quality time on the bench. His torso narrowed and his suit jacket tapered to a small waistline. His broad lats bulged, hovering as if suspended in air above his waist.
And then those arms. Shit, they were massive! His suit sleeves were tight with two guns that HAD to be in the 20 inch range.
The man smiled at Kerr. It was a confident smile. Could he know the effect he was having on the doctor? His eyes twinkled. Shit, he was drop-dead handsome. A small dimple adorned his chin. His teeth were sparkling white. Two more dimples appeared on his cheeks as his grin broadened.
Kerr’s knees buckled as he stood to shake the man’s hand. The hunk was so lean, so hugely muscular, and so damn good looking that Kerr had a difficult time keeping his lust and awe under wraps. Whatever this guy was selling, Kerr would be taking a big order.
“Grant Strong,” the man smiled as they shook hands.
Kerr motioned Strong to have a seat in front of his desk.
They both sat down, and Strong placed his briefcase on the floor, leaning it against his chair. There was an awkward silence.
Finally, Kerr asked, “What can I do for you, Mr. Strong?”
“Well, actually,” Strong began, “I am here to thank you.”
“Thank me?” Kerr wasn’t aware of this sales technique.
“Indeed,” Strong smiled. “I hope you’ll bear with me for a minute. What I have to tell you may stretch your credulity, but by the time I leave, you will believe me.”
Kerr’s eyebrows rose.
Strong looked as if he were trying to decide how to proceed. He looked Kerr in the eyes and said, “I am not human. I am from a place far from here.”
A smirk began to form on Kerr’s face. Yeah, riiiiight.
Strong continued. “We have been watching you for a number of years now. Since you entered puberty, actually.”
Kerr’s face showed disbelief and irritation.
“We have been fascinated by your proclivity toward muscular men.”
Kerr said nothing, but his countenance displayed a “How’s that?” expression.
Strong paused for a moment, then proceeded. “Tell me Dr. Kerr, when you masturbated in the shower this morning, did your muscle fantasy with Adam satisfy you?”
“What the hell?” Kerr said.
“You have had many bodybuilder fantasies over the years. You prefer to jack off in the bathtub, but the shower suffices nicely when needed. Although I couldn’t count the times when you emptied your milk into your bathroom sink. You have a special affection for Phil and for Flex, but Mike has been an old standby for you for years.”
“I think it’s time for you to go,” Kerr said, standing.
“Sit down, doctor,” Strong said with a firmness that commanded obedience.
“I know you don’t know what to think,” Strong went on, “You know I am speaking the truth; but how did I know these things?”
Kerr’s eyebrows raised once again.
“Observation. Simple observation,” Grant smiled. “Our species has the ability to see you whenever we want. To watch you surreptitiously.”
“Oh come on,” Kerr protested.
“Like the magazine in your desk drawer, for example,” Strong continued. “It’s open to a picture of Evan, isn’t it.”
Kerr knew he was right. How did he know this?
“My species has these ‘powers’ that you would term ‘unique,’” Strong said. “But I think you’ll be more impressed with my physical characteristics.”
Kerr’s eyebrows did his speaking again.
“Yes, I know you like what you see, but in truth, my physique would make Phil Heath look like Pee Wee Herman.”
Kerr smiled. “You’re big. But I don’t think you’re THAT big.”
“I’m holding back,” Strong said. “If I took my normal state, you’d not be able to handle it.” He stood as he spoke. “But here, let me give you just a taste—”
Then, he began to grow. His chest thickened, his already huge arms grew even more immense. He smiled. His neck became even more thick. His waist became smaller. The fabric of his suit coat seemed to form to his incredible body, accenting the huge bulges of muscle. Then, eventually, Kerr could hear the seams of the suit begin to tear as the man grew too big to be contained. Buttons popped off, sleeves shorn; and the man continued to grow, not only in height and size, but his face seemed to get leaner. He was growing, and getting more ripped and shredded!
Kerr couldn’t believe his eyes.
When all was said and done, Strong stood before the doctor with just rags hanging from his body. His clothing was ruined. He picked off the various pieces of fabric and let them drop to the floor, revealing a body (now clothed only in boxer shorts) that was beyond anything Brian Kerr had ever seen, or even fantasized about.
Immediately, Kerr’s body reacted with a shiver, and his already half-hard cock quickly stiffened into a branch harder than he had ever had.
Beneath the boxers, Kerr could see a horse-sized bulge at Strong’s crotch. The man’s manhood matched everything else about his body: Overly-huge!
“This is only a taste, doctor,” he said. “You still think Phil Heath has anything on me?” As his words ended, Strong seemed to send out some kind of scent, or power or something. Whatever it was, Kerr was immediately overcome with even more desire. His cock bounced in his trousers, and within seconds, Kerr was enjoying the most intense, pleasurable orgasm he had ever had. He grasped the edge of his desk and writhed in pleasure, moaning and groaning with each intense squirt of his jizz into his pants. The moaning was decidedly uncharacteristic of Kerr, who usually kept his emotional outbursts to a minimum.
Strong smiled. Kerr finished his orgasm.
“Oh shit,” Kerr said. “What the fuck was THAT?” He pulled the waist of his pants out from his torso and looked inside, inspecting the copious amount of semen. He was soaked.
Strong transitioned back down to his previous beefy state. “That was just a small example, a hint of what I really look like, and what my sexual wave can do to any man.” Even after returning to his previous state, the man would have blown any competitive bodybuilder off the stage.
“Just think of it as a scent, a whiff of sex that when experienced… well, you have already experienced it. How’d it feel?”
“Oh shit,” Kerr repeated, trying to stretch his tight muscles. His whole body felt like it had been through a very productive gym workout. “It felt… it felt like the mother of all orgasms.”
Strong smiled. “I just wanted to stop by and let you know that there will be more visitors. We’ve given some humans some very exciting gifts. One of them will be paying you a visit very soon. He’ll be concerned, not knowing why he’s growing so quickly. You’ll want to comfort him. Assure him that what he’s received is a gift. Encourage him to use this gift for good… for pleasure; not only for others, but for himself as well.” The muscle giant opened his briefcase and pulled out some clothes, and quickly put them on: Just a T-shirt and sweatpants. “I think you’re in for a very exciting time, Dr, Kerr.”
Kerr stood. “Wait, what do you mean?”
Strong was out the door before Kerr could make it around his desk. The doctor looked down at his pants. He could feel his cum starting to dribble out his briefs and down the inside of his leg.
“Oh shit,” he mumbled.
Dr. Kerr stood outside exam room number five and pulled the chart from the pocket on the door. It was his last appointment of the day, and he was dog tired. It was Friday afternoon, and he looked forward to a weekend alone (his wife would be away on a business trip). It promised to be a sensual time with his computer and muscle videos.
Kerr read the chart, and his interest was piqued: Zeke Powers. Born in 1995. Hmmm, that would make him 18 years old. Height: 75 inches. Nice: Six-foot, three.
He continued scanning the chart. Holy shit! 280 pounds! Either he was really going to be FAT, or one huge hunk of a muscle teen. Kerr’s mind immediately returned to the encounter he had had with Grant Strong earlier in the day. Could this be who Strong was referring to? He put the file under his arm and turned the doorknob.
Inside, sitting on the examination table, sat the most incredibly-built guy Kerr had ever seen. Including Grant Strong! He was sitting on the exam table. He had short red hair, military cut– in a flattop style. His ears– even his ears were gorgeous! They stuck out in a down-home sort of way that just wreaked of virility and youth.
His was a bull-neck if there ever was one. Thick and long, it was an ivory tower firmly planted on a pair of traps that would make any linebacker jealous. Those trapezius muscles looked like two rounded rocks, bulging from beneath the bright white cotton T-shirt that hugged his muscular upper body like plastic wrap on an uncooked steak.
Kerr’s eyes traveled outward from the traps and landed on the kid’s broad, round shoulders. Kerr’s stomach started to tighten as he took in the hugeness and unbelievable spherical grandeur of those delts. They were so broad, so wide! The term “cannonball” didn’t even do them justice. Kerr’s eyes moved around the delts to their lower terminus with the triceps muscles. What unbelievable definition between the delts and triceps! You could hide a car in that indentation!
His triceps were so huge and stuck out so far that they looked like you could rest a battery on them. Oh shit, those arms! Massive, yet striated and ripped, his biceps fought in tandem with his triceps to stretch the sleeve of his T-shirt to its physical limit. His arms were so hot! Hard and full, they each were so lean that Kerr could see the muscle fibers in them. A thick, straw-like cephalic vein pulsed down each biceps, feeding and nourishing the thick, hard meat. Kerr swallowed hard; his was a hopeless infatuation with men who had big arms. This Zeke guy took the prize, in every area.
Zeke’s chest was in perfect proportion to the rest of his body: huge. His peanut- sized nipples pushed through the cotton, propelled outward and downward by two of the thickest slabs of pectoral muscle on the planet! His pecs were more than just full and thick, they were round and dominating.
Zeke’s white T-shirt hugged his lower torso, which narrowed into his jeans like milk being poured from a pitcher. Kerr could even see some of the definition of his abs under the fabric. Zeke’s lower torso was unbelievably svelte! How a man with so much obvious upper-body strength and mass could have such a taut, skinny waist was beyond belief, yet his proportions were perfect! Each muscle group enhanced its neighbor, and the whole package was like a sculpture. No– even better. No mere artist could possibly conceive such a beautiful display of manly perfection.
Zeke’s legs were the foundation of his perfect physique. As he sat on the examination table, his gargantuan legs exuded strength and power. Thick masses of quad muscles filled his jeans, which Kerr determined HAD to be custom made. Kerr could even see the size of Zeke’s calves, as they pushed against the denim.
“Hi doc,” Zeke grinned. It was a smile that immediately made Kerr go weak in the knees.
His teeth were bright white, and his eyes gleamed with health. He had small dimples on his cheeks when he smiled, and a deeper one in his chin. It was a model’s face. Absolutely gorgeous. Perfectly straight teeth. Bright green eyes that only complimented his ginger hair. And that neck! Oh, shit his thick, powerful neck just bulged when he smiled!
Kerr could barely speak. “Hi– hi, I’m, uh, Dr. Kerr.” His words fell all over themselves.
“Glad to meet you doc,” Zeke said, extending his hand.
Dr. Kerr can’t remember most of those first few moments. For THIS muscle worshipper, he had truly met his god, and his mind is totally fuzzy about the first part of that encounter with muscle deity.
But eventually Kerr’s memory was able to keep an some kind of record.
“What can I do for you today, son,” Kerr asked. He liked hearing the word “son” come out of his mouth as he referenced Zeke.
“I just want to make sure I’m okay, and don’t have some kind of disease or radiation poisoning or something,” Zeke said. The teen then began to tell the doctor about his amazing growth in the past six months. He had gained 50 pounds of pure muscle. But the most amazing thing was his strength. It increased more than the proportion of his size. He was benching over 800 pounds! For reps!
Kerr found this difficult, if not impossible, to believe. That would be more than the current raw world-record for a single press! It was a claim that Kerr intended to investigate further.
“But then there’s the weird thing,” Zeke said. “The weird thing?”
The muscle teen hesitated. “Well,” he paused. “It’s this thing that I seem to be able to do.” Zeke looked down at the ground, appearing uncomfortable.
“Go on,” Dr. Kerr prodded.
“Well,” Zeke said. “I call it my Animal Magnetism. Its kinda weird, but I have confirmed it countless times.” He started to smile, then he got serious again.
“I seem to be really desired by men. There’s something I have that makes them, well– it makes them really like me.”
“Okay doc,” he said. “I guess I’ll just get it all out. I seem to be a turn-on to men. All men. They all seem to want me. Not that it bothers me. I’m able to pick and choose... I mean nobody messes with me without my permission, if you know what I mean; but its kinda weird that just about EVERY man I run into gets turned on by my muscles.”
“Really? EVERY man?” Kerr asked, shifting his weight on his legs.
Zeke smiled. “I’m sorry doc, but I can tell. With you it’s exceptionally strong.” One corner of his mouth turned up in a wry smile and his eyes twinkled.
“And how about women,” Kerr quickly diverted the conversation.
In all seriousness, without an ounce of pride, Zeke said “Oh, I can have any woman I want. The attraction is the same with them as it is with the men.” He was matter- of-fact. “And I really enjoy women,” he said. “But I kinda expect that. With my muscles and all. But the guy thing kinda is different. I mean, shit, even the 80 year old geezer in line at Walmart was looking me up and down!”
“But don’t you think that’s to be expected? I mean a physique like yours is quite unusual. I would imagine most men admire your body, and are at least a little envious. But that doesn’t mean they all want to jump into bed with you.”
“You don’t understand, doc,” Zeke said. “Ever since I started growing, it’s like my mind has been developing as well. I can kinda tell what people are thinking. With most people, I can kinda, well– read their thoughts. I can kinda hear what they say to themselves.”
Kerr decided to let the mind-reading stuff go for now. “So, what do you do when you see a guy who ‘wants you?’“ he asked.
“It depends. I mean, they ALL want me. But most guys I just brush off. Most don’t interest me. But if he’s built, well then I like to have a little fun. Since I started growing, I’ve also seen my sexual desires change as well.” He exhaled a loud breath, sighing. “I mean, well. Okay. I like to have sex. With men.”
Kerr paused. “I see.” He fiddled with his papers for a second. “Well, that’s neither here nor there,” he said. “Your personal life isn’t really my concern.
“But I do hope you practice safe sex.”
Zeke just smiled; his teeth gleamed and his grin was irrepressible. Kerr melted once again.
“And one last thing,” Zeke interjected. “Yes?”
“Well, this might be the weirdest of all,” Zeke said. “But since I’m here at the doctor’s and I’ve already spilled my whole thing out to you, I might as well tell you.”
“Okay, I’m listening,” Kerr said, wondering how the conversation could get any more weird.
“Yeah,” Zeke said. “Cum. Semen. I crave it. Sometimes I feel like a Dr. Jekyl or something. I mean I wouldn’t hurt someone or anything, but at times it’s like I just HAVE to have someone’s cum.” He looked up at the ceiling and his neck bulged, making Kerr’s boner jump. “So... I go and find some guy, turn him on just by looking at him, and make him cum so I can drink it up.”
Dr. Kerr, for all his attraction to Zeke, found this bit of information both exciting and disturbing. He squinted his eyes in disbelief.
Zeke continued, now looking down at the floor. “Sometimes we have sex. Sometimes if I’m really thirsty I’ll just maybe take off my shirt and send him my sex vibes and make him cum so I can have it.”
Zeke looked up to Dr. Kerr. All of a sudden, Kerr was filled with a tingling sensation. It was similar to the feeling he got from Grant Strong. His cock
tightened and tingled. Zeke was so hot! All Kerr wanted to do was to rip off Zeke’s clothes and gaze at the
inhuman beauty of the muscular hunk before him. Kerr’s whole body tightened. He wanted nothing less than Zeke himself. His cock began to churn as his balls
became heavy, ready to produce their juice.
Just when Kerr was almost ready to shoot, it stopped. Zeke looked
away, and Kerr’s stimulation subsided. Oh, he was still
majorly attracted to Zeke, but the control thing stopped. His juices receded. His
cock, although still stiffer than a two-by-four, relaxed.
“See?” Zeke said. “My sex vibes. I can make a man cum, just by looking at him. Usually I don’t though. I usually like to take my clothes off and see his reaction first.” Zeke smiled that devilish grin once again.
Kerr drew in a deep breath. He felt winded, deprived. “I see...” he said softly.
Zeke looked up at the doctor. He had a puppy-dog cute expression. Kerr wanted to die. Maybe crawl into bed with him and just kiss him for a few years. Touch those huge, tight muscles. Let his fingers tremble as they over the rock-hard pecs and arms. Feel the rippling abs. Caress those glutes.
Zeke turned from confessor and cad to a quiet, reflective man. He seemed to get very serious. He started playing with the end of his belt, looking at it. His arms rippled as his fingertips moved back and forth. His thick forearms danced with each minute movement of his fingers.
Finally, after a minute of this quiet contemplation, Zeke looked up at Dr. Kerr. “You want to examine me doc?” he asked innocently. Those huge arms just hung at his sides as he gazed at Kerr. His eyes looked deep into the doctor. His shoulders, without even moving or anything, just exuded strength and power. Yet that cute face was so damn sexy! Almost vulnerable!
Kerr’s heart began to pound. He felt lightheaded. And Zeke wasn’t even sending out his “sex vibes” anymore!
“Uh, uh– yeah. Yes. That would be good.” He was loosing it. He clumsily sat Zeke’s patient file down on the counter.
Zeke broke into a smile. Then he scooted forward on the table so that he was half standing, half sitting– with his butt leaning against the cushioned table and his feet on the floor. “You want me to take my shirt off?”
Kerr was dry-mouthed. “Yeah,” he coughed. He swallowed and could feel his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth. His gut tightened.
Zeke tugged at the bottom of his T-shirt and untucked it. He looked at his fingers, those strong, muscular fingers, as he pulled on the fabric. Then he looked up at Kerr with those innocent eyes.
Kerr’s heart pounded so loud, he could swear he could hear it.
His own private musclegod– bigger, leaner, more ripped & muscular, and more gorgeous than he thought possible– was about to reveal himself.
Zeke pulled the shirt higher and exposed his abs. Holy fucking shit! His abs were two columns of river rock. The skin clung to the mounds of muscle, so that the tiny fibers– the smallest shading and hint of texture– could be seen. Zeke moved his fingertips onto his abs and pushed the skin to the side. Shit! The skin traveled over the rounded rocks like it wasn’t connected to them. As soon as Zeke lifted his finger, the skin quickly moved back to its original place, giving an equally sensual show on the return trip, flowing over the mounds and into and out of the deep crevasses.
Zeke continued lifting the T-shirt. He had to pull it out far in order to clear his pecs.
Kerr thought he would die. Never in any magazine, video or web site had he seen anything even remotely like this. Nobody at any gym he had ever been in was even in this guy’s league!
Zeke’s chest, now fully visible, was the epitome of sensuality and power. Thick, pouty nipples protruded downward; huge muscles bulged and flexed. And the skin, so taut, stretched over the muscles and hugged them, forming a deep canyon between the pectorals. You could lose a hand in the valley, easily.
Zeke lifted the shirt off his head, but not without a few moments of struggle between the shirt’s short sleeves and the unimaginable size of his upper arms. For a moment, it looked like the fabric would end up splitting before it could move past the kid’s painfully huge arms! Eventually, the shirt was pulled past the upper arms and Zeke let it fall to the floor. He looked up at Kerr and, like a model staring into a camera, gazed into the doctor’s eyes, nearly sending him into a coma. The teen’s arms pulsed with power, now no longer confined by the cotton. His waist was taut and small. His shoulders were wide and powerful. And his skin was tan and golden. Perfect complexion– dry and free of any blemish, save for maybe a few freckles under his eyes and on his nose.
Kerr supported himself by holding onto the counter.
“You need to use the stethoscope or something?” Zeke asked, trying to prod Kerr back to consciousness.
Kerr, like a zombie, took out his stethoscope and plugged the ends into his ears. His fingers trembled as he placed the end on Zeke’s chest. The skin was warm. You could see the individual pores. The immense plate of muscle didn’t budge as Kerr moved the stethoscope to find the heartbeat. As a course of habit, Kerr placed his free hand on Zeke’s back, to support the pressing of the stethoscope on his chest.
Zeke’s back was very warm. And the musculature was astounding. Kerr listened to the slow, steady heartbeat as the instrument planted itself on the meaty pec. Kerr’s other hand moved over Zeke’s back muscles and upward, onto the teen’s large traps. He squeezed one, and it refused to relinquish any of its size. Shit, it was HARD!
Kerr listened to the stethoscope, but didn’t record the heartbeat. He wasn’t really there.
“Doc?” Zeke said quietly. “Yeah.”
“I need some cum.” Kerr stepped back.
“I want yours,” Zeke said softly.
Kerr’s stomach tied up. No, he couldn’t let this happen. Not now. Not here. He’d lose his license to practice medicine! He couldn’t do this with a patient. But the desire was so strong.
Zeke reached up and removed the stethoscope ends from Kerr’s ears and it fell to the floor with a clumsy clank. He cupped his hand around Kerr’s neck. He slowly pulled Kerr’s face to his own and held the doctor close. They gazed into each other’s eyes for a second, then Zeke’s huge arm pulled the doctor all the way in. They began to kiss.
Kerr trembled. His heart pounded. He tried leaning in, supporting himself with his hands on the examining table, but soon found one of his hands moving over Zeke’s chest. The other one returned to Zeke’s back and started moving up and down over the rippling, rock-hard muscles. Kerr’s hands tenderly began their virgin voyage across mountains and valleys of muscle. They had never done this before. Shit, Zeke’s pecs! Kerr fondled them as the two men kissed gently, squeezing the warm, thick meat; playing with the large, hard nipples, making the kid groan with pleasure. The doctor spread his hand wide and moved it around to the side of Zeke’s pec, tenderly palming it, feeling all of its huge hardness, feeling the unbelievable overhang. Zeke rippled it slowly for Kerr.
Their kiss became more passionate, and their breathing became heavy, yet they remained still, tenderly enjoying the intimacy.
Zeke’s free hand moved onto Kerr’s waist. Kerr flinched as his body tightened. Zeke began to feel Kerr’s ass. Kerr moaned.
Zeke parted Kerr’s lips with his tongue and the thick, hot meat began to fill the doctor’s mouth. Kerr moaned again. His cock was near explosion.
The two men kissed like this, slowly and softly, for nearly a minute before Zeke pulled back. “You want me, don’t you doc.”
Kerr only nodded. All hope of resistance was futile now. He had fantasized about an encounter like this since he was a kid. But he had never come out. He thought marriage would change things. But it didn’t. Whenever he made love to his wife, he had to fantasize about musclemen, just to get it up. And now, after years of only dreaming, he was going to be intimate with a man who blew all his fantasies out of the water!
Zeke pulled the doctor back into himself and they kissed again while the teen began to unbutton Kerr’s pants. Occasionally he moved his hand over the hard cock of the doctor, still covered by his slacks, then he returned to unzipping, unbuttoning and exposing the doctor’s barometer of attraction to the muscleteen.
Kerr was dangerously near orgasm.
Zeke unzipped him all the way and pulled out his pink, erect organ. He released their kiss and gently pushed Kerr back, holding him on the shoulders. Then, Zeke looked down and began to unzip his own jeans. He was standing now, as he opened his pants. A bright red, neatly manicured, forest of pubes crowned the treasure below, which was still mostly covered by his jeans. The base of the trunk was all that was visible. Fuck it was thick! Veins encircled the organ. Zeke pushed his pants and boxers down, and the mighty cock sprang forth.
SHIT! It was unREAL! I horse would be proud!
It pulsed with each heartbeat, steadily growing higher and higher, as Zeke smiled at the doctor. It raised higher, until it laid flat against his abs, reaching clear up and tucking its slick, honey-laden head right under his pecs!
Zeke reached forward and started fondling Kerr’s own erect cock. He didn’t squeeze very hard.
Actually, he was just tickling it. He smiled a sly grin. He wrapped his fingers around Kerr’s penis and squeezed ever-so-gently.
He lifted his free arm and slowly, sensually, powerfully, flexed his mammoth biceps muscle into a volleyball-sized globe. It tightened as hundreds of veins pulsed over it and the muscle fibers vibrated with life and power. It grew bigger. Bigger than Dr. Kerr could imagine possible. Huge. Hard.
Shaped perfectly, with individual heads vying for supremacy. The biceps split at the peak,
and a baseball-sized mound pushed up farther, capping the mountain with a
rippling ball of hardened meat.
“You like what you see?” he teased.
Kerr couldn’t respond. The tingling in his cock was nearing the breaking point. It was only a matter of seconds.
Zeke lowered his arm and pressed down slightly on Kerr’s cock. Kerr froze, then winced. Then his whole body tightened.
The first squirt was hard, jumping out of Kerr’s dick like a grasshopper. The second one was even harder, and it lasted longer, slinging a long, long rope of semen onto Zeke’s torso. The third, and subsequent explosions produced more cum than Kerr had ever manufactured in any orgasm of his life. He moaned as his body shot out long, thick ropes of semen. Within a few seconds, Zeke’s abs, pecs and even arms and shoulders were dripping with the doctor’s creamy lust offering.
As Dr. Kerr’s muscular body convulsed with pleasure like he had never known, Zeke gently nursed the throbbing penis, milking it, massaging it, caressing it.
Zeke lowered his flexing mammoth arm and started scooping up the cum that had splashed onto his body. He began to put it into his mouth. But his appetite was only strengthened, not satisfied. He leaned down and put his mouth directly over Kerr’s spouting spigot and began to gently suck. His neck bulged with each swallow, and that seemed to turn Kerr on all the more. The orgasm, instead of dying down like it usually did, only intensified.
Zeke’s lips cupped themselves around Kerr’s crown, gently squeezing and relaxing– pulling each forceful burst of cum out. His neck continued to thicken and churn as he swallowed. Kerr looked down and placed both hands on Zeke’s inhuman shoulders. Upon feeling the mountainous muscle of Zeke’s traps and delts, Kerr’s ejaculations only got stronger.
Zeke opened his mouth and pulled back just a few inches. Kerr’s jizz squirted into Zeke’s mouth through midair, making a plopping sound as it hit the back of Zeke’s throat. Zeke moved forward and gently closed his lips around the cock once again, suckling it tenderly. Slowly, he crept his lips down the shaft and as Kerr’s cock head nearly planted against the back of Zeke’s throat, the muscle god nuzzled his nose and lips into the good doctor’s pubic hair.
Brian Kerr’s hands shook as they squeezed Zeke’s traps for all they were worth. He dropped his head back and moaned. He filled Zeke’s mouth, offering up his milk as an act of worship.
And Zeke accepted it with enthusiastic swallows, drinking each drop, slurping it down easily.
As Kerr’s orgasm subsided, he looked down at Zeke. The teen pulled his lips off Kerr’s cock and raised up, leaning back against the exam table. His arms bulged as his hands, down at his sides, grabbed the cushion hard. He gritted his teeth. It looked like he was actually growing! His neck thickened even more; his shoulders widened; he closed his eyes and groaned, half smiling, half growling. His chest rose and filled out, expanding, if that were possible. His legs ballooned with hard, thick muscle. Zeke breathed heavily between his fits of body-tightening. His skin reddened slightly, and veins popped out all over hell, exposing an even more striated network of vessels than had been previously visible on the body that had to have less than 2 percent fat. Zeke bared his teeth, gritting and growling as his muscular body shook.
Kerr stepped back, his eyes wide. What was happening?
Zeke’s neck bulged with thick, red veins. His traps rose. His already huge arms seemed to grow as well, swelling with hard, red meat. He nearly tore the examination table in two as his white fingers dug into the cushion. The table rumbled as he lifted it an inch or two, then slammed it down. His bright white teeth clenched and he continued to growl.
Then, as Zeke moved away from the table, his pants and boxers fell to the floor, having been ripped at the seams as his massive legs grew into incomprehensible columns of rippling, pulsing muscle.
Suddenly, Zeke’s cock started shooting. I mean, it SHOT! Hard volleys of ropey, white cream started streaming out, hitting the wall and even the ceiling! The organ, which was probably twice the size of most men’s cocks, let loose with loud, hard blasts. He once again grabbed the cushion of the exam table behind him, and his triceps bulged with the action. He let out a strained moan– almost a yell– but it was stifled by the intensity of his seizure. “Shhhhhhh Shhhhhh Shhhhh!” he panted. His cock danced as it pulsed.
Then, it was over. His body relaxed. He opened his eyes and tipped his head forward, looking exhausted. “Oh shit,” he exhaled. “That was awesome.” His body slowly returned to its previous state, if not just slightly larger for the whole ordeal. He looked like he had just had a great workout and had a magnificent pump. His breathing was heavy. His vascularity and muscle definition had become even more pronounced.
“What was THAT?” Kerr asked, he himself exhausted from the most intense orgasm of his life. He was totally spent.
Zeke looked up at him. “Oh shit man. THAT was totally over the edge. Your cum is SWEET, man. That was one of the better feedings I’ve had in a long time.”
“Yeah, doc. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I NEED cum! Gotta have it. It feeds me. It makes me stronger. Bigger.”
“You do seem to have a nice pump there, kid,” Kerr smiled.
Zeke looked at his body. “Yeah, sure do,” he smiled, flexing his arms and pecs a bit. His cock remained at full-mast, so hard that it seemed glued to his abs, sticking up toward his pectoral cleavage. He raised his hands and put them behind his head.
Shit, his intercostals were astounding! His arms were so big he looked like they would crush his ears! He exhaled a deep breath and the skin covering his abdominals receded into almost nothing, showing off their rock-like mass. Zeke’s eyes twinkled. “Wanna feel some more?”
“Oh shit,” the doctor whispered.
Zeke smiled and put his arms down. “Well, maybe we’d better wait a little while. You look pretty drained.”
He got a perplexed look on his face. “Do you mean to tell me that you go through that kind of convulsive process every time you drink cum?”
“Well,” Zeke smiled. “It’s not always that intense. I found that some guys have quite a heavy concentration of whatever it is that I crave. Yours was more potent than most. Usually the bigger and more muscular the guy, the better the results.”
Zeke took the back of his hand and wiped a glob of splooge from the corner of his mouth, grinning. “You okay?”
“I think so,” Kerr replied. He started to shove himself back into his pants. “So, doc,” Zeke said. “You think I have some kind of disease or something?”
Dr. Kerr looked at Zeke. “I have no idea. But I intend to do some close studying to find out.”
Zeke grinned. “I’d like that.” Kerr also sprouted a sly smile.
“Hey doc,” Zeke said as he reached down for his T-shirt and examined the shreds of his boxers and pants on the floor, “I think I’m going to need some new clothes here.”
“I’ll see what I can find,” Kerr smiled.
As Zeke struggled to put the T-shirt back on, he said, “You want to come with me to the gym tomorrow so I can show you how strong I am? I mean, if you really want to study me, you’d probably better take a look at what I mean when I say my strength is really freaky. I think that’s something you should see.”
“Yeah,” Dr. Kerr said. “I agree. Tomorrow works good. I’d like to see that 800 pound bench press.”
“Great.” He smiled. “Hey, you got anything going on tonight doc? I mean, you interested in catching something to eat together? Maybe hanging out together at your place?”
Kerr swallowed hard, and his whole body tingled. He tried to hide his smile, but was unsuccessful. Who would be so bold to suggest such a thing? Only someone like Zeke, who knew what the doctor wanted. “Sure, Zeke,” he said. “As a matter of fact, I am free all night.”
Dr. Kerr followed Zeke out of the locker room and onto the gym floor. It was bustling with activity. This particular gym was a mecca for the hardcore bodybuilders in town.
Zeke walked out across the main floor and over to the back room, where the heavy free-weights were kept. More than a few heads turned as the muscleteen’s T-shirt clad body moved through the room. Kerr walked behind Zeke, enjoying a clear view of the best, tightest ass in town, and the widest lats this side of the Mississippi.
And more than a few other people took in the sight as well. One guy dropped a dumbbell on the floor as his mouth also fell in awe. Zeke was beyond well- built. He defined power. His muscled upper body was so thick and bulging, yet so lean and ripped, well—it made the most diehard guys there gaze on with envy. And those legs! His powerful, meaty legs propelled him forward with such confidence and strength!
Zeke entered the hardcore room. All eyes that weren’t in the middle of a set turned toward him. Kerr followed quietly. Normally, Kerr would have turned a few heads on his own. No stranger to gyms he—Brian Kerr had a tight, muscular body that belied his 36 years of age. But with Zeke there, well—Kerr was nearly invisible.
A few smith machines were on one wall. Assorted other weight benches and stations were on the other walls, each one in use. There were plenty of mirrors all around. In the middle of the room were two benches, one being used by a father and son team, and the other being used by an over-fat guy who made no effort to keep his reps to himself. He was groaning with each sweaty movement, pressing up and down on a bar that weighed over 300 pounds.
The father and son team were spotting each other. The kid, who looked to be about 18 or so, was finishing a set using 225 pounds while dad spotted. Dad was hot. Probably 45 or so, and stacked. Better than Kerr. Better than most guys half his age. He had thick, full arms and broad round shoulders that really looked good in his tank top. His waist was narrow and his legs were big. He looked like he took his bodybuilding seriously. If junior there on the bench inherited even half of this guy’s genes, he was destined for greatness.
“Come on, Josh,” dad coached as the kid pressed out his last rep. “Push it up. Harder.”
Josh pressed the bar up, his arms trembling, then racked it. He sat up. Shit.
He indeed HAD inherited his father’s genes! He was a hunk! His thick neck supported a handsome face. His arms were big for a teenager. Really big; probably stretched the 18 or even 19 inch mark. He was one gorgeous musclestud, with a thick chest under his blue T-shirt, and nice, promising legs supporting his youthful, virile body. He wore a baseball cap.
Both dad and Josh caught Zeke at the same time. And their reaction was the same. They couldn’t get their eyes off him. Yeah, they tried. They looked away and added some weight for dad’s next set. But as Zeke moved through the room, they both kept stealing glances back at him.
Zeke walked over to the bench where dad and Josh were. He smiled at Josh. “You guys mind if I use this bench?”
Kerr was a little embarrassed. He hadn’t expected Zeke to be so brash.
But dad looked right as Zeke and said, “Go right ahead. We were just finishing.” He might as well have asked Zeke if he could hump him right then and there. He looked the teen up and down, eyeing every huge muscle. Josh, not one to miss out, said “You want me to ad some weight here for you?”
Zeke moved over to Josh, who was standing at one end of the bar, ready to grab another disc for Zeke. “You’re Josh Cox, aren’t you. The quarterback at Hill High?”
Josh almost turned red. “Yeah. How did you know?”
“Just an admirer, I guess,” Zeke smiled. “I like how you play ball.”
Josh stared into Zeke’s eyes and was mesmerized as the huge teen stood so close, so powerfully close. Zeke’s chest met Josh’s eyes. “Uh—well, uh—thanks man,” he said, looking up at Zeke.
Zeke looked down at the 225 pound laden bar. “I think I’m going to need a lot more weight here,” he said. He put one hand on Josh’s shoulder and with the other he turned Josh’s hat around backwards and said “Be a good boy and round up some of the 100 pound discs, won’t you. The 45’s just won’t do very much for me.”
Josh, without saying anything, quickly scurried to find the weights. Zeke looked over at dad. “Name’s Zeke,” he smiled.
“Mike,” the dad said.
“Nice to meet you, Mike.” Zeke cast a glance over at Josh, who was across the room, picking up a 100 pound disc. “You son Josh is one hot looking stud.”
Kerr frowned. What in the world?
Mike smiled. His attraction to Zeke was muted, but obvious. He was trying to control it. “Yeah,” he said almost scuffing his shoe on the floor as he looked down. “A lot of the girls think so, I guess.”
Zeke walked around the bench. Shit, his broad shoulders just dominated the room. “I’d say he gets his good looks from his dad,” he said. He put his hand on Mike’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. “And I’d also say it’s not only the girls who notice.”
Mike looked up at Zeke, almost like a puppy dog, expecting a pat on the head. “Yeah,” he squeaked. “I guess so.”
Zeke stared into Mike’s eyes. “I want your son.” he said softly.
Mike swallowed hard. He looked away, breaking their mutual stare, but his eyes were pulled back to Zeke’s. “Has he ever had sex?” Zeke asked.
Mike blinked and tried to back away. His mind raced. Should he throw up a punch? Should he laugh? Should he run? “Uh—” he shook his head, then looked back into those bright green eyes. “Uh—yes. I mean no. I mean—I think so.”
Zeke chuckled. He stepped just a tad bit closer to Mike. He smiled down at him. “Dude, you have it so bad for me.”
Mike just froze.
“I’m going to lift some weights here,” Zeke said. Then, if you’re good, dad, I’ll let you watch while I make your son cum all over me. Maybe even give you a turn when I’m done jackin’ him off.” He stepped back. “Would you like that?”
Their encounter was interrupted by Josh clanging the weight onto the bar.
Zeke looked over at Josh and whispered to Mike. “Mmmm, I am going to ENJOY your boy there. Fresh, ripe, young muscle.” He left Mike and walked around to Josh. “Dude, you need to take all the 45’s off first. Otherwise there won’t be enough room on the bar. One hundreds only.”
“Sure thing,” Josh said, and got right to work. “The name’s Zeke.”
Josh looked up at him. “Sure thing,” then returned to his work, trying not to gawk at the musclegod.
Zeke moved close and put his hand on Josh’s forearm. Josh stopped. “It’s okay if you want to look, dude,” Zeke said.
“You like what you see, dude. That’s okay. You go ahead and look at my muscles all you want. Later on, you’ll get to see them up close and personal.”
Josh just swallowed hard as he felt his cock grow. How did Zeke know? Was it that obvious? The gut-wrenching feeling in his stomach intensified and he started sweating. Oh shit. He just couldn’t let anyone know his secret! But this inhuman muscle stud was calling his lifelong bluff!
Josh, nearly dropping the weights and running into the equipment, scurried to occupy himself, collecting and mounting the discs on the bar. Zeke warmed up by doing sissy pushups on the end of the bench, giving the guys on the floor an outstanding display of his muscle ass and back. Some of the guys sported hard, big boners under their shorts as Zeke slowly moved up and down, supporting his hands on the end of the bench and his ankles together behind him.
Mike watched with the others, as muscle upon rippling muscle danced before their eyes. He nursed his hard-on under his gym shorts, trying to hide it rather unsuccessfully.
Finally, Josh had positioned the discs. Six hundred and forty-five pounds, counting the weight of the bar. “That’ll be a good warmup,” Zeke grinned.
Pretty much everyone in the room gathered around, some more obviously than others, some watching from a safe distance where their hard-ons could be concealed.
Zeke laid down and took a deep breath. His mighty arms pressed up on the bar, rippling hundreds of fibers of muscle into tight ropes of iron. The bar raised off the rack. He lowered the bar and let it barely touch his rising pecs, then easily pressed it back up. He repeated, easily. The bar moved fluidly, without slowing or pausing at either the top or bottom of the reps. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.
Zeke racked the bar and sat up. A room full of men stood above him, staring—some with open mouths.
Dr. Kerr couldn’t believe what he had just seen. Over six hundred pounds! And seemingly effortless movement! For twelve reps! Inconceivable!
Zeke smiled at his admirers. “Need a few hundred more pounds, Josh,” he said. Josh obeyed and within a few minutes the bar held over 800 pounds of steel.
Zeke laid down once again and took two deep breaths. His face tightened and he pressed against the bar. Striations of steel cables snapped to attention across his arms and shoulders. His arms bulged and the bar creaked loudly as it slowly raised off the supports. Zeke took in two more deep breaths as he held the bar motionless above him. Then, the bar moved downward. All the way to Zeke’s huge chest.
Zeke’s feet spread wide, his mammoth legs tightened, and he pushed the bar upward. This weight was not so easy. The second rep was just as powerful, just as methodical. As was the third.
The fourth rep was a little slower, and Zeke began to really breathe heavily. His face squinted. He panted as he pressed the bar up for the fifth rep, but the range of motion was still deep, all the way down to his pecs. On the sixth rep he began to turn his head from side to side, panting and moaning. His muscular body shook.
A guy in one of the corners started ejaculating into this exercise pants. He moaned, then slightly turned, trying to hide his embarrassing display of homosexual lust.
Most of the guys didn’t notice. They were looking at Zeke.
“Holy shit,” some of the guys whispered. Zeke’s gargantuan, rippling muscles shook with power.
He lowered the bar once again and pressed it for all he was worth—the seventh rep. “Sssshhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” he hissed. The bar moved up. His Herculean arms were red and meaty. Over eight hundred pounds of steel moved upward and obeyed the muscleteen’s command to rise. Zeke racked the bar and stood up. He hit a most muscular pose and growled, his bright white teeth grinning from ear-to- ear in a victorious smile.
Another guy, the fat one who had been using the other bench, began ejaculating. The room was full of sex and sweat and many of the other men were on the verge of spewing forth as well.
Zeke walked over to the fat man, stuck his hand inside the guy’s pants and pulled out a thick, white wad of cum on the tips of his fingers. He lifted it and sucked the spunk off. He smiled at the weightlifter, who wasn’t yet done jacking. “Thanks man,” Zeke said. “I appreciate the compliment.” He reached inside again and helped himself to a second serving.
Zeke’s body tightened and he seemed to take on a healthy glow. He clenched his teeth, and his body trembled for just a second, as if he had momentarily experienced a cold shiver.
“Shit, yeah,” he said, looking at the man again. “Pretty good spunk. Not to bad for a fat guy.”
Zeke moved over to the corner and helped himself to the guy who had started to squirt earlier. This guy was pretty well-built, and the effect it had on Zeke was slightly more profound than the jizz from the fat guy.
“Nice buzz,” Zeke said as he licked the guy’s cum from his fingers.
Kerr was incredulous. “You just go ahead and to this kind of stuff, right in public?” he said as Zeke returned to the bench area.
“Sure,” Zeke smiled. “No one stops me. And I think most of these guys like watching! Besides, you ain’t seen nothing yet!” he said as he glanced over at Josh.
He walked over to the quarterback and stood close. “You have some pretty good self-control, dude,” he said. “You think you can keep from jackin’ while you put your hand up my shirt and feel my pecs?”
Josh didn’t answer.
“Awe come on,” Zeke teased. “Big strong quarterback afraid he can’t control himself? Come on and put your hands inside. I won’t bite. Promise.” He danced his pecs under his T-shirt. “Come on dude, you know you’ve been looking at me ever since I walked into the room.” He lowered his voice to a taunting whisper. “Go ahead. Just one little feel.”
Josh was nearly trembling. He wanted to SO bad, but of course he had a reputation to uphold. The high school jock wasn’t about to come out, if he could help it.
Zeke reached down and held Josh’s hands for a second. Then he slowly put them inside his T-shirt. Josh’s hand couldn’t help but move upward. He nearly gasped as his fingers felt the deep ridges of the marble abs. His breath was quivering as his hands moved up onto Zeke’s monstrous pecs. He spread his hand and started feeling out the thick, warm meat.
Zeke smiled. He leaned forward and simultaneously started to slowly, rhythmically manipulate his pectoral muscles for Josh’s hands, as he also started kissing Josh’s lips. Zeke wrapped his huge arms around Josh as the men in the room watched.
The two teens embraced in the most passionate kiss that Dr. Kerr had ever witnessed. Zeke’s huge muscular body enveloped Josh.
As Josh’s hands were squeezed into Zeke’s chest by the warm, sensual embrace, Josh let out a small whimper and his whole body jerked once. Then again. The bodybuilders in the room watched as Zeke drove Josh into an orgasm.
Josh panted and moaned with each jerk. Zeke held him tight. “Yeah,” Zeke whispered, his monstrous arms rippling as they embraced the helpless teen’s body. “Yeah, let it go. You want me so bad, dude. Empty your cream into your shorts for me. I want to taste it—to drink it down.”
As Josh ejaculated in Zeke’s arms, Zeke looked up to see Mike watching. Zeke grinned and winked at Mike. “Don’t worry daddy, you’re next,” he smiled. He looked into Mike’s eyes and made a kissing gesture, then opened his mouth just a bit and slowly ran his tongue around his lips, then grinned some more.
After about a minute, Zeke pulled Josh back and knelt down. He pulled Josh’s shorts and jock strap down to his mid-quads and started licking up the copious amount of cum.
“Oh shit,” Josh moaned. He wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
When Zeke’s tongue met up with Josh’s half-spent cock, the penis immediately began spurting again! Kerr couldn’t believe it! Zeke gently wrapped his lips around Josh’s dick and went down all the way on it. Josh moaned loudly, and a couple of the guys watching did likewise.
Zeke cleaned up all of Josh’s love offering and stood up. Immediately his body started to grow, almost like morphing, into bigger and more powerful muscles. Zeke clenched his fists at his sides and closed his eyes.
“Oh SHIIIIT, Yessss!” he panted. His whole body was getting bigger. He actually seemed to get a few inches taller!
“Fuckin’ mother of god!” one guy said. “What the fuck is happening to him?” The men watched, aghast, as Zeke transform before their very eyes. Then, after a minute or so, it was over. Zeke opened his eyes. He had returned to his previous state, although he certainly looked pumped and thicker.
“Oh YEAH!” he smiled. “Awesome, dude!” he looked at Josh and patted him on the back. “I’m thinking I could press 900 pounds now!” He turned to the onlookers. “Anyone want to watch?”
They all mumbled. They were too stunned to really speak.
“Awe come on,” Zeke grinned. “I need some more encouragement than THAT! Tell you what. If you want, I’ll take off my clothes and bench it nude.” He started fumbling with his shorts, then looked up. “Anyone interested?”
He lifted his shirt off and then pushed his pants down. The jizz drinks he had consumed had definitely had their effect. Kerr watched, amazed at the growth and new definition, if more of either was even possible. Chords of iron muscle groups bulged and danced before the men’s eyes, sending more than one of them into involuntary orgasms. Zeke’s massive body, now fully visible to all, was incredible. Its proportions, with that narrow, sexy waist, were so perfect, so magnificently developed! And that tree branch of a cock was more than enough to make all of the guys green with envy.
He laid down on the bench once again, now laden with 900 pounds. His totally nude body was all muscle—only muscle. His cock laid against his abs, almost totally erect and dripping with honey. He reached down and fondled his balls and looked up at the guys, smiling. He closed his eyes as his fingers found his sweet spot, then opened them again.
One guy turned away, obviously trying to avoid an orgasm, but it was too late. He grabbed the side of the smith machine and let out a whimper while he grabbed his cock in his shorts.
Zeke smiled. He reached up and grabbed the bar, lifting it quickly off the struts. “Yeah!” he groaned. He lowered the bar to his bare chest and his whole body stiffened. Slowly, the bar raised as Zeke panted. Then a second rep. And a third. He forced out six reps altogether, then sat up.
Zeke looked over at Mike. He could see that Mike was ready. He stood up and approached dad. “Shit, you have it bad for me don’t you, muscle-daddy.” He held Mike’s hand, which was sweaty. Mike’s heart pounded hard. He just stood there, driving Mike wild with desire, sending out very small, but effective, sex vibes. Not much was needed.
Zeke almost whispered to Mike. “You ever tell Josh over there how much you love muscle? You ever do it with him?” Zeke grinned. He ran his hand up Mike’s thick forearm and onto his triceps, squeezed it for a second, then continued on up to Mike’s shoulder. His hand rested on Mike’s broad deltoid. “Come on, you can tell me. You ever suck off your son?” He moved his free hand onto Mike’s raging hard-on and squeezed the fabric of his shorts, very slowly and gently.
“You know,” Zeke said softly, “Sucking off your son was fantastic. I have a feeling you and I are going to have a real nice time. What say you and me mosey on over to the bench there.” He winked at Mike, who was frozen.
Zeke put his hand on Mike’s muscular butt and propelled him over to the well- lit bench which was still pretty much surrounded by the throng of bodybuilders. “Looks like you and I are going to have a nice little audience, dad,” Zeke said as he lifted Mike’s tank top off. He bent down on his knees and pulled Mike’s shorts off, as well as his briefs. The clothes protested greatly against the size of Mike’s legs, but Zeke forced them over the muscle and onto the floor. Mike’s boner immediately sprang up, nearly hitting his abs. Mike was a rock. His muscular physique had to have less than 10 percent fat. His chest was thick and pouty. His shoulders were wide and his arms were among the biggest in the gym. Two mountainous legs rippled with beef, and the cock that sprang from his loins would have probably felt more at home on a horse than a man.
Zeke, still down on his knees, bent forward and opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out. He didn’t touch Mike’s penis, but came awfully close. He brushed the end of Mike’s cock with the tip of his tongue for just an instant, then looked up, smiling.
Zeke stood up. Mike moaned. Zeke moved forward and embraced Mike. They started to kiss. Muscle enveloped muscle as the two men hugged, gently caressing each other’s massive bodies. Zeke’s kiss was more sensual than you could imagine: slow, heavy, tender and passionate. Mike’s whole body tensed as Zeke gently frenched him, driving him wild, making his heart skip multiple beats, embracing his muscular body powerfully, yet so softly.
Zeke moved Mike over to the bench and laid him down on it, face up. Mike’s cock spewed precum all over his abs. As the men in the room watched—no one dared intervene—Zeke lifted Mike’s legs with his powerful arms, arms that were nearly as big as Mike’s legs! Zeke spread them, and then bent forward, positioning his cock at Mike’s door.
Zeke pushed forward and his cock head parted Mike’s sphincter. Mike moaned and dropped his head back onto the bench. Zeke pushed harder and the lip of his cut slipped inside. Mike’s ass muscles tightened in response to the intruder and wrapped themselves around the cut. Zeke’s muscular, thick, long cock moved in farther.
Mike began panting. Zeke didn’t stop. The muscle-teen raised his upper lip as he forced his way farther and farther inside. Mike let out a wail, then resumed panting. His own cock was harder than it had been in years. Zeke pushed farther, dropping his head back and moaning at the pleasure and domination. His mighty penis moved all the way inside. Mike lifted his head, looking up at Zeke’s face. His eyes were big; he was sweating profusely. He dropped his head back on the bench and groaned. Zeke held still.
Slowly, Zeke started to rock his cock inside Mike. Only millimeters of movement were needed. Mike felt it. Back. And forth. Slowly, thoughtfully. Powerfully. Back. And forth.
Mike’s penis raised off his abs and spurt out a hot white blast of cream. His body jerked and he wailed. A second volley came out, shooting a long string of jizz up onto his own face and chest. Zeke held him still. A third squirt, and the orgasm was in full swing. Mike groaned as blast after blast squirted out, sliming his body with his own creamy semen.
Zeke dropped Mike’s legs and they wrapped around the teen’s small waist as he leaned forward to drink up Mike’s jizz. The redhead musclegod licked up as much as he could, but some dribbled over Mike’s intercostals and onto the floor. Zeke bent close and lifted Mike’s cock to directly feed off it as it continued to spurt.
Even before Mike was completely done, Zeke started to grow. He held Mike tightly, almost crushing him. Mike wailed as Zeke’s huge muscles tensed and tightened and grew. Then Zeke’s cock let forth with a hard, painful blast of cum inside Mike’s ass. Zeke leaned back and Mike nearly lifted off the bench as the fulcrum of Zeke’s cock straightened and moved.
More than one observer had quite a personal mess to clean up later.
Zeke grew and grew, hissing and groaning with each ejaculation. His orgasm was loud and intense.
Finally, the two exhausted men slumped on each other on top of the bench, panting heavily. Zeke pulled himself out slowly, his cock still thick and red.
He moved Mike off the bench and pushed out 8 reps of 950 pounds.
Kerr had two orgasms during the show, not to mention the three he had had overnight with Zeke as his house guest, and the three more he would have that night with Zeke again.
Zeke came again, right after the 950 pound set. It was a mess. The sticky cream was everywhere: the bench, weights, mirrors, even some on the ceiling. No one told the gym owner what had happened. No one knew who eventually cleaned it all up.
She was the gym queen. She always found the biggest, most ripped bodybuilder in the place and moved in—literally. She was a knockout, small and petite. Her name was Barb.
He was the de facto king of the gym. His name was Eric. He stood six- feet tall and weighed 235 pounds of rock-hard, lean muscle. His shoulders were wide; they dominated the gym. Huge cannonballs flowed down from traps that made his shirts bulge and even the best-built bodybuilders envious. His chest was thick and powerful. And his upper arms were 21 inches of competition- league meat, rippling with muscle fibers, veins bulging. His forearms were unbelievably thick and dense, yet pulsing with veins and muscle.
When he took his shirt off, his abs made people blink to confirm what their eyes were seeing. They were chiseled rows of muscle with seemingly no evidence of fat, stacked on a narrow lower torso. How a man could sport mass that big yet be so lean, was anyone’s guess. His basic appearance was long, not squatty; an image that in some ways belied his powerful 235 pounds. And his legs were absolutely huge- definition that would make many professional bodybuilders jealous, and muscle size to do the same.
Eric moved more iron than anyone in the gym. If he had wanted, he could have been a power lifter. The others just dropped their jaws as he did squats, dead lifts, bench presses and curls with weight that was out of reach for even the most diehard guy there.
Many big guys had come and gone from the gym, and Barb had been with most of them, always leaving whenever someone bigger came along. She had an insatiable appetite for muscle, and her standards for proportion, size, definition and just basic good looks were impeccable. And so she was with Eric. Yes, many came before, but she doubted there would be any after. He was a musclegod and she, his slave.
She spotted him during his exercises, massaging his big traps between sets.
And he loved it. Later that evening there would be passionate sex as Eric would envelop her tiny body under his muscular frame.
Dr. Kerr had been working with Zeke for over four weeks now. In that time, Zeke had gained an incredible 31 pounds of muscle and had grown 2 inches in height. It was unbelievable, but true. Dr. Kerr attributed the growth to a perfecting of the cum-consumption process. Before Zeke had come to Dr. Kerr, his consumption of jizz was sporadic and spotty at best. But through extensive testing, Kerr had determined that Zeke’s physiology had been altered somehow—by that Grant Strong guy he surmised—and now he was able to metabolize human semen to enhance the growth process.
Dr. Kerr had seen to it that Zeke had a steady, reliable source of semen on which to feed—his own. Kerr spent many late evenings at the office, seeing to Zeke’s needs. His wife, never suspicious of her husband, busied herself with her lover. The Kerr’s marriage would be over soon, although neither wanted to admit it.
And, of course, Zeke also treated himself to other men as well. The bigger, stronger and hunkier the better. The good doctor had concluded that a wide spectrum of semen, from many different sources, provided Zeke with a balanced diet—more varying DNA from which to build his muscle. So, Kerr encouraged Zeke’s promiscuous ways, although Zeke’s methodology in procuring men’s cum was unorthodox and often quite bold. But just watching Zeke with other men gave Brian Kerr a rush. He was hopelessly in love with his musclegod, and for some reason he didn’t mind watching Zeke make love to others. It made sex between the two of them even more powerful.
Zeke and Kerr sat in the shade, watching the water lap onto the beach as passersby enjoyed the hot sunny Sunday afternoon. The place was kind of a muscle beach area; many bodybuilders came here on weekends to strut their stuff. Zeke and Kerr watched from a secluded vantage point, in the shade, just a few feet off the main walkway.
Zeke wore a sleeveless muscle shirt which was only moderately successful at hiding his astonishing physique. His shorts barely contained his quads, although they hung loosely on his tiny hips. He sat on the ground, his thick, vein-covered forearms resting on his knees, twisting a long blade of grass in his fingers, chewing on one end.
Kerr sat next to him, also watching the stream of musclemen as they walked by to find a place to sunbathe. He nursed a boner in his shorts as hunk after hunk walked by, each one usually escorted by a cute, Barbiedoll girl.
“Shit, look at that guy,” Zeke said as a muscular black haired bodybuilder approached. This guy was exceptional. He wore a yellow T-shirt that wasn’t tucked in, and some blue swimming trunks. He was astounding! Ripped muscles danced and bulged with each step. He didn’t strut, but he sure knew how to walk. He and his tiny girlfriend stopped right in front of Zeke and Kerr, about 20 feet away; but the doctor and his redhead musclegod were unnoticed because of their remote position.
The hunk laid out a blanket and his girl put down their picnic basket. She sat on the blanket and looked up adoringly as Hercules started to lift his shirt. He didn’t really like to show off, but deep down, he lived for this. A few heads, which had already turned as the muscleman had arrived, were joined by even more heads, watching expectantly as the guy lifted his shirt.
“Holy fuck!” Kerr whispered.
“Yeah,” Zeke agreed. “That guy is STACKED!”
The guy let his shirt fall onto the blanket and instinctively he stretched out. He shook his arms out and flexed his pecs.
This nearly sent Kerr over the edge. He didn’t know if it was just the absolute powerful beauty of the guy, or maybe just being with Zeke these past few weeks had made him horny all the time. He surmised it was a little of both.
The guy had huge, dark nipples planted on two slabs of pec beef that made Kerr’s cock quicken just by looking at them. His traps and shoulders bordered on inhuman; broad and thick, the muscle heads bulged everywhere
The girl stood up and approached her musclegod. She put her hands on his narrow waist, then slowly ran her fingers up his rippling abs, onto his thick chest. She stopped there, caressing the warm, powerful pectoral muscles.
Her fingers squeezed as she smiled into his eyes.
He leaned forward, and they started to kiss. His big arm moved up and he placed his hand on her shoulders. Shit his upper arm was huge! And in this position, both Kerr and Zeke noticed just how developed his forearms were as well! Bigger than most men’s biceps.
“Holy shit,” Zeke said standing. “I just can’t pass this one up. He’s gettin’ me boned just watching this.”
“Where are you going?” Kerr asked.
Zeke smiled, not taking his eyes off the guy. “Just watch and squirt, my good doctor. Watch and squirt.”
Zeke stepped out into the sunshine and slowly walked toward the couple. Even with his muscle shirt on, the voyeurs turned their heads and had a difficult time looking back. The redhead sauntered over and stood on the blanket behind the guy so that the girl, when she opened her eyes, would see him.
As she caught a glimpse of Zeke, she immediately pulled back. Her eyes glued onto Zeke’s incomparable frame, his unbelievably defined muscles, his inhuman size. The guy turned around.
His reaction quickly turned from one of irritation to awe, but he tried to hide it. “Hi. I’m Zeke.”
The guy, clearly disturbed by Zeke’s presence (and his dominant physique) said “I’m Eric. This is Barb.”
Zeke gazed at Barb with a grin that was totally inappropriate considering her boyfriend was right there.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Eric asked.
“Oh, I’m sure there is, dude,” Zeke smiled. “But like I always say, ‘Ladies First.’”
While he stared at Barb he said. “Shit, sweetie, you standing there in that bikini like that—you sure are causing a lot of boners out here on the beach.”
Eric’s mouth dropped open. Barb tried to hide her smile.
Zeke continued. “I was noticing here, judging from your boyfriend, that you must really be into muscle.”
Barb smiled coyly.
“I was just wondering if maybe you might want to see what some really big muscles look like,” Zeke smiled. He looked down at his arms, rippled them slightly, then looked back up, deep into Barb’s eyes.
“What the fuck?” Eric said. “I think she’s seen about enough of you as she needs.”
Zeke looked at Eric. “Awe come on, Eric. You afraid that if I take my shirt off ol’ Barb here might see something she likes more than you?”
Zeke started to play with the bottom of his muscle shirt. His huge arms rippled. Barb’s eyes were glued on them.
“You want me to take this thing off and let you have a look?” Zeke teased Barb. Barb nodded.
“What the hell?” Eric quipped. “I think it’s time for you to go, asshole.”
“Oh, I’m not going anywhere, muscledude. But in a few minutes I WILL be cumming.” He leaned into Eric and whispered. “Right inside your girlfriend .”
Eric was just about to throw up a punch. Barb turned red, but was unable to hide a growing grin on her lips. The grin turned into an out and out smile as she looked Zeke up and down.
Zeke smiled back and started to lift his shirt. His abs were two rows of brickwork, unsurpassed in their relief and definition. His waist was markedly narrower than Eric’s, in spite of the fact that he was hopelessly more huge than him. Zeke pulled the shirt out and up, over his gargantuan pecs. He lifted it over his head and let it drop onto the blanket.
A few gasps were heard. “Shit! That guy is freakin’ inhuman!” some guy in the crowd said.
Zeke grinned as Barb stared. Eric tried to hide his amazement, but was not successful. Zeke’s muscles just kinda sat there, comfortably dominating the world, exuding such power and such sensual grace that even without sending out any of his “sex vibes,” as he called it, he caused most of the guys on the beach to sprout stiff, throbbing hardons. His mammoth size and uncanny definition were surpassed only by his drop-dead gorgeous symmetry. His muscles seemed to feed off each other, each one nursing its neighbor, complimenting it, highlighting it. It was perfect balance, perfect size.
His thick, muscular neck and broad powerful shoulders made his freakishly tiny waist seem even more diminutive; that, coupled with two of the thickest, most rippling legs anywhere made Zeke look like a god among mere mortals.
And let us not forget those arms! His guns had grown, over the weeks, to nearly 26 inches of rock-hard beef. And if this weren’t enough, Zeke’s dimple-adorned face, with that killer confident grin, was enough to make you want to cry. So much muscle and so much beauty, all in one youthful, virile, confident package
Zeke tightened his arms as they rested at his sides. They snapped to attention, hardening then relaxing with waves of muscle fibers. He looked at Barb, but spoke to Eric. “Yeah, I’d say she likes what she sees.” He raised his arms out to his sides in a slow, powerful arc, eventually planting his hands behind his neck. His biceps looked like they would crush his ears
“Shiiiiit,” one onlooker whispered.
Zeke was a master poser, showing off every shadow of muscle, every nuance of power. He slowly exhaled and the skin covering his abs dissolved into nothing, leaving only two columns of river rock, each individual stone a masterwork of perfection. The muscles bulged and bunched against each other, then as Zeke slowly twisted his hips, they expanded and rolled. He watched Barb and raised his eyebrows in a devilish smile. Slowly, almost painfully, he lowered his arms.
He stepped toward Barb, very closely. The two locked eyes. “Yeah babe, you like what you see.” Zeke put his hands on her hips and pulled her into himself. Her eyes met the cliff-like overhang of his pecs, his golden-tan nipples right in front of her.
He pushed his hips against her, pressing his cock into her. His huge arms flexed as his hands rested on her hips. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
He tightened his arms on her waist and slowly, effortlessly, started to lift her, sliding her up his rippling physique until their lips met. The mammoth hunk tenderly kissed her as he held her nearly a foot off the ground, his back and shoulders flaring.
She nearly swooned as her lips extended to meet his. Zeke’s mouth opened in the kiss, and he began frenching her softly.
Eric grabbed Zeke’s shoulder, and his hand was greeted with the hardest slab of trap muscle he had ever encountered. Zeke didn’t move. Eric tightened his grip and tried pulling Zeke. Nothing. Eric’s huge, muscular body tightened and he tried once more to pull Zeke away from his girl. “Come on, you asshole. Get your fuckin’ hands off her.” Zeke didn’t even turn around to acknowledge Eric’s hands on his shoulders.
Eric let go and stepped back. He watched helplessly. He was raging with anger, and fear. But his most disconcerting emotion was pure animal lust and envy over the total musclegod that was, right here in front of everyone, passionately embracing his own girlfriend.
Zeke pulled back from the kiss and smiled. Barb barely opened her eyes and seemed to moan for more. Zeke lowered her a few inches, then raised her again. Then he did it again, allowing her petite body to rub up and down against his huge, rippling muscles. They kissed again for another minute, then Zeke slowly lowered her back down. Eric watched silently.
“You know,” Zeke said, looking at Barb. “I’m giving your boyfriend here a boner.”
Eric face turned from red anger to red embarrassment. He couldn’t hide the bulge in his swimming trunks that snaked up his left hip.
“Seeing your muscledaddy here get all hard for me makes me want to reconsider what I said about ‘Ladies First,’” Zeke grinned. “You think you could excuse me for just a second, Barb?”
Zeke turned to Eric and stepped close. His warm, thick chest met Eric’s face. He danced his huge pecs in front of Eric’s eyes and they moved in waves, like two stingrays gliding over the ocean floor.
Zeke spoke softly. “Shit, dude. You want me so bad.” He sent out only the smallest whiff of his sex vibes, and Eric found himself drawing in a deep breath and holding it. Zeke stepped closer; they almost touched. “You must see something you like, huh dude?” Zeke put his hand on Eric’s hip and extended his thumb so that it touched the tip of the bulge under the swim trunks.
Eric’s body stiffened. What was happening? How could he be finding this guy so attractive? His mind raced with emotions. Should he run? Fight? Give in? No.
“Shit, dude, you really have it bad for me.” He squeezed his thumb against Eric’s cock head which was now even farther up his hip. Zeke moved in. He leaned down and began kissing Eric.
Kerr, still watching from the shade, put his hand down his shorts.
Zeke brought his other hand up and cupped it on the back of Eric’s neck. He leaned forward and they kissed. Zeke parted Eric’s lips and gently inserted his hot, thick tongue. Eric started to breathe heavily and instinctively he stood on his toes to get more of Zeke. Zeke wrapped his huge arms around Eric and the two men embraced.
One guy in the crowd started jacking into his trunks.
Eric groaned as Zeke held him tightly. For a second, Eric tried to push away, but his powerful arms were ineffective in moving Zeke. “Yeah dude,” Zeke whispered into Eric’s ear. “Fight me. Try and get me off you. I want to feel your big muscles work against me.” Eric squirmed more, grunting. No use.
Zeke kissed him some more, and all resistance stopped. Eric’s knees went weak. Zeke moved his hand fully onto the hardened cock that was still concealed under Eric’s swimming trunks and began to feel it through the fabric as they kissed.
In the crowd, another guy had sprouted a boner so hard and big that it had begun to stick out from under the elastic waistband of his swimming trunks, unbeknownst to himself. As he watched, he involuntarily started creaming, shooting up semen onto his own torso.
Eric’s muscular body stiffened as Zeke began massaging his organ. Zeke pulled back and looked down at Eric’s crotch, holding the long, thick rod in the palm of his hand. He tightened his grip, grasping the fabric, then released it. He looked up into Eric’s half-closed eyes and squeezed it again. “I’m not bothering you, doing this, am I?” Zeke asked innocently.
Eric didn’t respond.
Zeke pushed on it again. “Big muscledaddy like his stuffy fondled by even bigger muscledaddy, huh?” Zeke grinned. He leaned forward once again and the two musclehunks embraced again, Zeke running his hands all over Eric’s big, bulging back and shoulder muscles.
After another few minutes of passionate kissing and touching, Zeke pulled back and looked back at Barb. “You know, dude,” he said to Eric, “I think you might enjoy watching me fuck your girlfriend. Might give you a few pointers, some techniques you can use.” He turned away from Eric, leaving the heavily-breathing hunk to stand alone.
Zeke tugged on his own swimming trunks, felt the horse cock through the material, then started shimmying his shorts down over his narrow hips. He had to push hard to get them down over his legs, pulling both his swim wear and his posing trunks down at the same time. His red pubes were trimmed in a perfect triangle above his cock. His penis sprang forth, only semi-erect, yet bigger than anyone’s full erection there. It was massive, and laced with veins, pulsing with his heartbeats.
He pushed the trunks down and stepped out of them, now nude.
“Come here,” he said to Barb. “Come and feel what a real man feels like.”
Barb didn’t have to be asked twice. Her dainty fingers brushed around Zeke ‘s half- limp cock caressing each vein, pausing to gently squeeze the muscular shaft, her hand quivering as it moved from balls to head, not tightly wrapped, but open-palmed, enjoying the sheer size and warmth of the still-limp, but getting harder organ.
“Oh my god!” she whispered. The warm meat was so big! She trembled as her small cold hand gently moved over the growing organ. She looked up at Zeke’s muscular physique. His titanic body made Eric’s look anemic in comparison.
Barb felt under Zeke’s hairless balls, stimulating him right where it counted. His penis moved higher. He smiled. As she softly explored his ever-growing mammoth genitals, Zeke started posing. He hit a double biceps shot, and Barb froze as she gazed up at arms that looked like they could flatten solid steel. They peaked, yet he tightened them more and they grew more. A network of veins fed the muscle fibers which danced under the skin, lumping into incredible, individual heads of molten muscle.
More orgasms, more gasps, as Barb continued to feel Zeke’s manhood. He continued posing, moving his hands up and behind his head once again. He bucked his hips forward and exhaled, flexing his abs as Barb tightened her grip on his cock, which was at about 75 percent hardness now.
Eric held himself. Zeke was an image of more manhood than the most jaded straight man could handle. Zeke sent a minute whiff of sex vibes Eric’s way and smiled.
Zeke brought his arms down, turned to the side just a bit, grasped one wrist with the other hand and tucked them under his huge pecs in a side-chest pose. The meat of his pecs hardened into two gargantuan slabs of striated beef, quivering with power. He grinned at Eric.
Barb continued to fondle, also bringing one hand onto Zeke’s quads.
Zeke faced forward and put his hands on his hips. He moved one leg slightly in front of the other and flexed it.
“Holy SHIT!” someone said. Zeke’s leg was beyond human. Ropes of muscles hardened into deeply cut valleys and peaks of muscle, rippling and alternately hardening into solid mounds. His leg size was off the scale, bulging so far out that it was easy to tell that each one was easily larger than the diameter of his waist
One of Barb’s hands trembled over the marble sculpture of leg muscle, while the other moved slowly up the now hardened cock. Precum dribbled down, over the thick cut of the head, and Barb rubbed it into the tightly stretched skin of the shaft. She pulled the cock away from Zeke and let it go, causing a deep “thwap” sound as it slapped against his abs.
Zeke bent down and lifted Barb up. It was time. He undid her bikini top, allowing her full, round boobs to plop forward. He pulled the bottom of her suit down, and she stepped out of it.
Eric, for all his prize-winning muscle, watched helplessly.
Slowly, Zeke lifted her off the ground once again, running her up his impossibly muscular body. They embraced, his dick moistening her torso with thick, clear honey. He lifted her higher with no effort, his huge arms tightening.
When she was just above eye-level with Zeke, he pulled his hips back and positioned his cock head against her cunt. Slowly he lowered her, and instinctively she spread her legs. She moaned as Zeke impaled her. Her eyes grew huge and she winced in pain. Zeke grinned. Barb cried a short, whimper as the mammoth cock slipped inside her. She slid all the way down the rod, and Zeke embraced her with his big arms.
Barb started to moan loudly. Her body tightened. “Ohhhhh,” she groaned as they kissed. Zeke embraced her hard and his muscular arms rippled as he held her still. He began to gently rock his hips.
They embraced like this for about two minutes before Barb let out a loud cry and with a jerk began her first orgasm. “Ohhhhhh!” she moaned. “Yessssssssss!” Her body spasmed.
Zeke held her still for a moment, then he bent his knees and, without pulling out, laid Barb on her back and laid on top of her. His gigantic muscles enveloped the gyrating woman and he resumed his slow, methodical rocking inside her.
Eric moved over Zeke and watched as the redhead’s incredibly tight ass flexed and relaxed. Zeke’s Herculean legs rippled, calling up to Eric with each flex. Eric, unable to contain himself any longer, pulled himself out of his shorts, pushing them down.
The crowd gasped as Eric began jacking himself. His huge forearms were worth the price of admission alone, but his gargantuan upper arms were astounding—flexing hard with each pump of his wrists. Within seconds, bursts of hot, milky jizz began spewing out of Eric’s thick cock and onto Zeke’s back and butt.
Zeke smiled, partially turning around as he looked up from Barb. “Oh yeah, dude. Spray your juice for me man.” He laid back down and continued fucking. Streams of milk began puddling in the crevasses of Zeke’s muscular back and overflowing down onto the blanket. “Milk yourself over me, Eric.
This little sex show with your girlfriend is just for you, dude.”
Just to see a man built like Eric, masturbating himself like this would be material for a high-priced porn video. Yet watching him do it as he lusted over Zeke fucking his own girlfriend was unbelievable. Nearly every guy watching was either filling his shorts with cream, or openly jacking, right there in public.
Zeke started to cum. He ended up having two orgasms inside Barb before he pulled out. It was a long, hot afternoon. Finally, he stood up and walked toward an exhausted Eric. Zeke’s cock was still hard.
“You’re next, big boy,” Zeke said, putting his hands on Eric’s hips. Their swords crossed and Zeke pushed out a small gurgle of jizz which trickled down and slithered onto Eric’s renewed erection.
Zeke reached up and began pinching and twisting one of Eric’s nipples. The musclehunk liked it. The two men stared into each other’s eyes. Then Zeke lowered himself and knelt at Eric’s penis. He began licking it, not closing his lips around it. His long tongue drove Eric insane with desire. Zeke put his big hands on Eric’s ass to hold him steady.
Eric dropped his head back, groaning. Zeke gently wrapped his lips around the head of Eric’s dick and crawled them up the shaft, slowly. When all of Eric’s long, large cock was inside Zeke (Zeke had to REALLY open his throat for this one), Zeke buried his nose in Eric’s thick, black pubes, inhaling the masculine scent of his adoring charge, manipulating Eric’s cock with his tongue.
Zeke began to suck softly, his neck bulging, his adams apple rising and falling with each supple suck. He nuzzled his nose into Eric’s thick forest of black hair, enjoying the scent. Occasionally, Zeke opened his mouth to change the resistance, pausing just long enough to elicit a moan from his worshiping subject. Then, he would close his lips on it again and suckle like a kitten to its mother. His muscular hands pulled Eric’s ass cheeks apart, and he slipped the tip of his fingers in toward Eric’s sphincter, teasing it, fondling it.
Eric grabbed Zeke’s head with both hands and pushed, but Zeke only went as far as HE wanted, despite Eric’s amazing strength. Eric’s arms bulged as h e nearly lifted himself off the ground, pushing on Zeke to go down farther.
Finally, Eric’s body jerked and with loud yell he began to fill Zeke’s thro at with his semen. “Ohhhhhh shiiiiiiit!” he screamed. He brought his hands down to his sides. He bared his teeth and as his fists clenched, his muscles tightened.
Zeke took all of Eric’s semen, gulp after gulp. Once he opened his mouth off Eric’s cock, and wads of jizz splashed against his face. He closed his lips over it again and resumed drinking.
Kerr could see that Zeke was beginning to transform. His muscles were getting tighter. His lats flared. His mighty legs grew. He tightened his grip on Eric’s ass and began to stand up, lifting the 235 pound bodybuilder into the air. Eric balanced himself with his hands on Zeke’s head, yelling and moaning as he rose.
Zeke’s huge arms thickened. Thousands of veins began to bulge like spaghetti across his body. His skin turned a shade of pink. His whole body seemed to convulse as he stood on his tiptoes, lifting Eric even higher.
His erection began to shoot. Almost immediately, Zeke sat Eric down and, between bursts of hot cum into the air, he whipped Eric around, laid him down and spread his legs, shoving himself into his ass.
Eric’s thick, muscular glutes received the shaft with great protest; he wailed in pain as Zeke made no attempt at all to be gentle. Zeke forced his way in, biting his lower lip and muscling his cock deep inside Eric’s ass. The two men lay on top of each other, Zeke thrusting himself hard. As Zeke’s body continued to grow, he convulsed with the hardest orgasm he had ever had, nearly crushing and ripping Eric’s beefy body apart with his strength.
“Urrrggh! Urrrggh!” Zeke panted. He grunted loudly with each forceful pounding. His ass flexed in tandem with his mighty legs, hardening with the power of a locomotive as he shot his heavy, hot load inside Eric. Muscles on top of muscles rippled over Zeke’s shoulders, down his arms, over his massive back, through his gargantuan chest as ejaculation after ejaculation threw his body into passionate spasms. And all the while, Zeke’s inhuman body kept growing, transforming into an even bigger, ripped musclegod.
The force of Zeke’s orgasm sent shock waves of his sex vibes out, throwing nearly every observer into a sexual climax.
Finally, Zeke began to slow down. Eric, whimpered. Zeke collapsed on top of the bodybuilder, and their sweaty bodies lay there, panting. Zeke held Eric still for nearly 15 minutes as he finished, slowly pushing out every last drop into Eric’s ass.
Did you see the new guy?” Mark leaned forward over the table, almost in a whisper. “Shit, he makes Glen look like an anorexic!”
“Yeah right,” John scoffed as he took a bite from his sandwich. “Glen is the best-built guy I’ve ever seen. What, he weighs probably 240 pounds of solid muscle.”
“I know!” Mark’s eyes opened wide. “But I’m telling you, this new kid is stacked like Engine 73,” he nodded his head toward the door leading to the garage. “He’s huge! But totally ripped!”
“Shit,” John said. “This I gotta see. Where is he?”
“Captain’s showing him around. I think they’re down in the office.” Mark and John continued eating their lunch. The door opened and Glen walked in.
“You two guys see that new kid yet?” Glen asked; his eyebrows were raised and his thumb was pointing behind him toward the door.
“Yeah,” Mark said. “He’s huge!”
“No shit,” Glen said. “I gotta find out what that guy eats! Did you see his arms?”
“Fuck,” Mark said. “They’re gigantic—but ripped to shreds!”
Glen lifted his big leg over the back of a chair and sat down. He shook his head, not believing that someone was going to take his position as reigning musclestud of the station. At 35 years old, Glen had honed his body to near perfection over the years.
The long shifts in the fire station allowed him to really work on his physique, and it showed. He was easily the best-built guy at the station—and THAT was saying something. Most of the guys were amateur bodybuilders as well, spending hours upon hours every week in the station’s weight room.
Mark looked at Glen and admired his thick, muscular traps. Mark had a thing for shoulders, and Glen’s traps and delts always gave him a visual treat.
“Well,” Glen said standing back up, “I really should get to my workout.” He turned and walked out the door.
Glen panted loudly, slowly pushing up the 500 pound barbell as Kevin spotted him.
“Go man,” Kevin commanded. “You got it.” Glen pressed out a fourth rep, forcing it slowly upward. Kevin leaned forward and placed his fingertips under the bar for the last few inches. Glen’s large, muscular arms wobbled; his pecs fluttered. His face was red and for a split second, it looked like he would fail. Finally, Glen forced the bar up, and it clanged loudly as he racked it. He groaned as he exhaled in exhaustion.
“Awesome!” Kevin yelled. Four other firemen watching cheered their approval as well. Glen sat up, sweating.
“Five hundred pounds for four reps!” Kevin exclaimed. He gave Glen a high-five, just as the door from the garage area opened.
In walked the captain, followed by the biggest, most well developed specimen of manhood any of the men had ever seen. Well over six and a half feet tall, he was fuckin’ huge, but his physique was obviously ripped to shreds, as most noticeably evidenced by his tiny waistline. It had to be less than 30 inches
“Guys,” the captain interrupted, “this is Troy Magnum. He’s the newbie I told you about. He’ll be bunking with you, Mark.” The captain nodded to Mark. Shit, the forearms on this guy were like nothing Mark had ever seen even in the muscle magazines or on the many videos he had watched.
Mark’s gaze traveled up the inhuman arms and met the eyes of Troy—eyes that pierced Mark’s soul. They were radiant brown eyes, beautifully highlighted by dark, sensual eyelashes and perfectly graceful eyebrows. Shit! He was gorgeous. His cheeks dimpled slightly as he smiled.
His shoulders defined WIDE. His traps were mammoth rocks of muscle challenging the seam of his shirt. He had a thick, muscular neck that was long, yet wider than his head. His ears stuck out perfectly, exuding a virile, youthful aura. His military-short hair was dark brown. He was fucking gorgeous! His chest was so thick, Mark imagined that you could set a plate on it.
Troy looked at his admirers. His expression was minimal. He didn’t scowl, but he didn’t smile. The seriousness of his countenance gave an edge to his drop-dead gorgeous face. It was a young, innocent face. Yet it wasn’t naive. He was secure and confident; almost to the point of being aloof. Yes, that was it. He was actually quite aloof—not really affected by the men’s stares. Yet his dimples, his sparkling eyes, his white-hot teeth (when he showed them) belonged to the face of a god.
Just his face alone was enough to give Mark a boner. But of course, Mark wasn’t looking at his face alone.
Troy wore the standard light blue short sleeved firefighters shirt, and Mark couldn’t stop looking at those gargantuan, rippling arms. Troy’s forearms were thick, striated with a network of veins that would make AT&T envious, and clearly bigger than most men’s upper arms. And his upper arms fought against the sleeves of his shirt like they would tear them if he but flexed the muscles even a little bit. His triceps rippled in thick, rolling waves. Shit, they were the biggest guns Mark, and all of the other guys, had ever seen
Troy seemed to scan the group of firefighters. His gaze stopped on Mark. Surely, Mark wasn’t the biggest guy there, or even the best looking. But nonetheless, Troy’s eyes lingered on Mark for a few uncomfortable seconds, piercing into the innermost part of him, uncovering the secret longings, the private fantasies, the throbbing desires. Their eyes locked. Mark could tell he was being violated. The powerful stare seemed to undress his facade and reveal the deepest sexual longings and muscle worship fantasies he ever had.
Mark finally blinked. He looked away. Troy had found his man.
Glen got up from the bench and shook Troy’s hand. “You want to give it a shot?”
Glen said, motioning to the bench. Already Glen was feeling a tightening in his stomach. While Mark might have worn his hidden gayness a little closer to the surface than most closet dwellers, Glen was, in his public persona, clearly a manly jock het. No one would have ever guessed that he harbored untold sensual leanings toward musclemen. Indeed, even Glen himself didn’t fully admit his lusts, even to himself.
But Troy was stirring in Glen an inner conflict that inevitably would come to the surface whether he liked it or not. Maybe not today. Maybe not next week. But eventually, Troy would be the catalyst that would force Glen to face his own attraction to muscular men. Troy, the men would soon find out, had a way of doing that.
“Sure,” Troy smiled. “Why not.” He sat down on the end of the bench and stretched his huge arms out wide. The men gathered around, anxious to see how this huge musclestud would handle the weight that had made Glen famous among firefighters.
Troy laid down and spread his arms out, grabbing the bar. His arms were long—REAL long, and his grip was probably a hand-width wider than Glen’s. Troy’s chest was so huge that the buttons on his shirt looked ready to pop right off. His massive upper arms bulged as he tightened his grip, threatening the integrity of his shirt sleeves.
“Shit,” one of the men whispered. Indeed, it was a sight to behold, just watching Troy lay down on the bench.
Mark discretely positioned himself behind one of the other barbell weights to hide his raging hard-on.
Without waiting for a spotter, Troy lifted the bar off the struts. As if it were a broom handle, he began lowering the bar to his chest. Five hundred pounds of steel moved to meet his pecs as if it were fifty pounds. Troy pushed the bar up just as easily as he had lowered it. The second rep was just as fluid, just as fast. Then the third. As he raised the bar on the fourth rep, two of the buttons over his chest popped off his shirt, revealing his bright white cotton T- shirt.
“Holy shit,” John said.
Mark, standing behind a 45 pound disk, began, for the first time in his life, to cum in his pants involuntarily. He held onto the disk and tried to hold still, praying that no one would see.
Fortunately, no one was really looking at Mark.
Troy kept going. Five. Six. He wasn’t even breathing hard. His cadence remained steady and quick. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. The last reps were as fast as the first.
Troy racked the bar and sat up; he clearly could have done many more reps. He hadn’t even broken a sweat.
He fumbled with the button holes of his shirt.
“Cheeeezuuus H. Chrys…” Glen said. The mouths of the men were wide open, as were their eyes.
Troy looked up at the men and with barely a smile said “You got any more weights to put on this thing?” He looked right at Mark, who was just finishing his ejaculations. Their eyes locked. The corner of Troy’s mouth turned up. Could he tell what had happened? Mark looked down at the floor, red faced, but trying to maintain his composure.
“Shit, man,” Kevin said. “What’s your max?”
“Dunno,” Troy said. “I’ve never really tried. I’ve done a thousand, though. But I could’ve done more.”
“You’re shittin’ me,” Glen said. “No one can bench a thousand pounds.” Troy stood up and walked up to Glen. He stood more than a half-foot taller than Glen. He looked down at the older fireman and smiled. “You want to put some money on that?”
“Well, all this male bonding is all good and fine,” the captain interrupted. “But that’ll have to wait till later. We need to get Troy settled in.
Troy turned away from Glen and followed the captain out of the room. As the men marveled at what they had just seen, Mark quietly scurried out to the sleeping quarters to change.
Mark looked over at his digital clock. One-thirty a.m. The room was dark. He leaned over his bunk to check on the bed below. Empty. Mark slipped off his bunk and quietly walked down the aisle between the snoring firemen, and opened the door.
He walked down the hall, stopping outside the door to the exercise room. A light shown under the door, although it wasn’t bright. Clearly, only a few lights were on inside.
Mark quietly opened the door and stepped inside. At the opposite wall, Troy was setting two dumbbells back on the rack. His back was to Mark, but mirrors covered all the walls.
Troy was wearing a tank top and shorts. His back—(shit, those lats!)—was wider than most freeways. Mark immediately sprung a boner. Fuck, why hadn’t he put on his pants! It was going to be so obvious, just wearing his boxers and a T-shirt
Troy turned around. “I thought you’d find your way down here, sooner or later,” he said softly. Their eyes locked, as they had twice before, and Troy’s peaceful, confident face melted Mark. Shit, he was so thick! His tall, overdeveloped body screamed power. His muscles were ripped to shreds, crawling all over themselves, covered only by the thin, lightweight tank top. He was the size of two men, yet his thin, narrow waist was skinnier than Mark’s.
The hulk took a step toward Mark. The silence had seemed forever, yet it seemed natural, not uncomfortable. It was as if they had known each other for years, and were both at ease with just being together. Troy smiled at Mark. Mark looked away.
“I didn’t get a chance to apologize to you,” Troy said slowly and quietly. There was almost a romance to his voice. The room, with its sparse lighting, was peaceful. It was a hot night, and Troy had opened a window. Outside, crickets softly chirped.
“Apologize?” Mark said.
Troy took a few steps closer to Mark, who had once again taken his position behind a 45 pound disk that was on a barbell, in order to hide himself. Troy looked down at the floor, then back up at Mark.
“Yeah,” Troy said.
Mark also spoke slowly. “For what?”
Another step closer. “For what I did to you when I was benching this afternoon. I hope I didn’t embarrass you.” Troy looked down at the disk, as if he were looking right through it.
Mark turned beet red. “Oh shit,” he whispered. He looked at the floor and felt like he would burst into tears. He had to maintain composure. He swallowed hard.
“I hope I didn’t cause too much of a mess.” He looked sincere, and yet was that a hint of a grin? Mark repeated himself, holding onto the disk. “Oh shit.” The sound of the crickets outside offered the only relief from the silence.
“Hey, don’t sweat it,” Troy finally said. He played with his fingernails, like he was cleaning them as he talked. He looked up at Mark. “Happens all the time,” he smiled.
“I had never done that before,” Mark said truthfully, although he had come countless times in private, fantasizing over imaginary guys who didn’t hold a candle to Troy’s reality.
Troy smiled, almost painfully. “If we’re going to keep your little secret from all these guys, you’re going to have to learn some self control, dude.” Mark looked at his feet as he scuffled them. “Yeah,” his voice cracked.
“I think,” Troy said as he stepped closer—he was about 10 feet from Mark now—“that I can help you with that, if you want.”
“With some self control.”
“Oh,” Mark said. More silence. “What do you mean?”
Troy walked around the end of a bench, closer to Mark. His mammoth body seemed to emanate heat, power and sensuality. As he edged closer, the relief map of his muscles and veins became more and more vivid, revealing muscles vibrating and rippling with life as the shadows and light of the softly- lit room illuminated his physique.
“Well,” Troy said stopping, “I think you need to learn how to control yourself. Maybe if you were exposed to more muscle, you’d be able to learn how to control your urges in the face of temptation.” His words seemed to mock Mark, yet his face was sincere.
Mark looked away.
Troy started to touch the bottom hem of his tank top. His arms, shoulders and chest seemed only inches from Mark, although he was still five feet away.
“You think if I took this tank top off you’d be able to keep from coming?” he said with long, loving eyes.
Mark didn’t answer.
Troy smiled slightly.
Mark’s heart pounded.
Troy turned slowly and looked over at the door, then back at Mark. He walked over to the door and locked it, then returned, not saying anything. He stopped again about five feet from Mark, looking deeply into his eyes. “So, how long you been into muscle?” he said thoughtfully, almost tenderly.
Mark shrugged his shoulders.
“Kind of a curse, isn’t it,” Troy offered. “Always being drawn to musclemen, but trying desperately to keep up the appearance...” Mark just looked at him.
“Why don’t you step out from behind that weight. You don’t have to worry. It’s all cool.” Without taking his eyes off Troy, Mark reluctantly stepped to the side. His cock was sticking up to the left, moistening his gray boxers with precum all over his hip.
Troy smiled softly as he looked at Mark’s boxers. He took a small step forward. “Am I making you do that?” he said so innocently that Mark wanted to die.
Mark swallowed hard; his heart was pounding so hard he thought he’d wake the whole station.
Troy started to lift his tank top up. He kept his eyes on Mark’s eyes. “Now, remember,” he whispered. “Self control.” He grinned and lifted the shirt, revealing a set of abs that looked like a rock-work fireplace. Deep, nearly inch-deep, canyons separated the mounds of muscle; and Troy wasn’t even exhaling or flexing or anything! He was just totally relaxed as he showed off his lower torso, and it was unbelievably ripped! The tank top went higher, lifted by a forearm that looked like it could take on a jackhammer. As he raised his shirt up and over his head, his pecs seemed to balloon out, thickening as they were exposed.
Shit! His nipples were huge and dark. His skin was perfect; dark, tan and thin. The cleft between his pecs was easily deeper than an inch, as was the overhang of his chest above his abs. His shoulders rippled with untold poundage of muscle on top of thick, sinewy muscle. And those arms were the biggest, most ripped set of bazookas on the planet
Troy smiled. “You okay?”
Mark, on the verge, just stood there.
“You want me to put it back on?”
Mark shook his head slowly.
“You’re doing good,” Troy smiled. “Let’s see how you do while I do a little showing off.” He moved close and pulled down Mark’s boxers, exposing the slimy, long cock which nearly slapped against his abs. “I want to be able to watch,” Troy smiled. The scent and heat of Troy’s body was overwhelming. That, combined with the action of pulling down his boxers, almost sent Mark over the edge. “Fight it, Mark,” Troy whispered. “You can do it buddy.” He placed his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “You okay?”
Mark nodded, looking away.
Troy walked over and grabbed a long iron bar that didn’t have any weights on it. He held it in front of himself, chest high, palms down. He stretched out his fingers, getting a good grip. Slowly, his face tightened, and the muscles on his shoulders and arms tensed. His countenance showed deep thought and determination as he winced. He took in a few deep breaths.
The size of Troy’s muscles actually made Mark believe that the musclegiant would somehow be able to pull this off. But how could he? No man could bend that bar. It was made to hold hundreds and hundreds of pounds! But as Troy’s massive muscles brought to bear on the metal in his hands, Mark could see that the strength of this guy was way abnormal. His muscle size was unbelievable, and the sheer density and movement of them made almost any feat seem plausible.
Troy’s face grimaced. He held his breath. Slowly, imperceptibly at first, but then more noticeably, the bar began to bend in the middle.
Mark watched as this unbelievable demonstration took place, right in front of his adoring eyes, and his erect, worshipping cock. He could feel his penis tense up.
Troy’s gargantuan muscles rippled. He panted. Sweat began to bead up on his forehead. The bar bent more.
Mark thought he’d faint. But instead, his body stiffened and for the second time that day he reached orgasm without even trying. Heavy, thick ropes of cum began squirting out of his cock.
Troy stopped. He quickly sat the bar on the bench and stepped over to Mark, who was by now in the throws of a heavy, hard orgasm. Troy got on his knees and began drinking at Mark’s fountain.
“Mmmmmfffgrrhh, mmmmmmfffgrrhh,” Troy moaned as he swallowed. “I was so hungry for this,” he said between gulps. Some of the jizz dribbled onto his lip and chin, but he wiped it onto the shaft of Mark’s cock and licked it up, not wanting to loose a single drop.
Mark moaned as he shot. “Ohhhhhh shit.” Troy grabbed Mark’s ass and continued feasting. As he did, Mark placed his hands on Troy’s shoulders, feasting his fingers on the steel traps and delts. But... but they seemed to be actually growing! Holy SHIT, they WERE growing
Mark looked down, not believing what his hands were feeling. Yet he was reluctant to believe what his eyes were seeing. There, on his knees before him, Troy was getting bigger and bigger! His shoulders actually widened! His already inhuman traps bulged with even more hardness and size. Mark could feel Troy’s grip tighten on his ass. It began to hurt.
“FFfffffggggggghhhhh!” Troy groaned. His lips popped off Mark’s cock and his dropped his head back. His tree-trunk neck was a mass of vein-laced muscle! He panted. His eyes were like saucers. He gritted his teeth, and some of Mark’s cum dribbled out of his mouth, looking not unlike a rabid dog.
“Holy fuckin’ shit! What’s happening!?” Mark yelled.
Troy let go of Mark’s ass and fell backwards, kneeling on top of his own heels. He put his hands on the floor behind him and panted. His muscular body crawled with teeming muscle fibers, each one growing and rippling, fighting against the veins which encircled them. He nearly gagged on the cum still in his mouth.
Mark watched, aghast.
Finally, Troy started to recover. His size diminished back to his previous, gigantic state, although he certainly looked like he had a great pump. He breathed heavily, exhausted, looking up at Mark.
“You okay?” Troy asked.
Mark had been speechless. “I was about to ask you the same thing!”
Troy smiled and leaned over toward the bench, pulled himself up onto it and sat down. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he said.
“What the shit was that!?” Mark demanded.
“Just a little...” he said between breaths, “just a little... feeding,” he said.
Troy wiped his chin. “Yeah. The reason I’m so strong, and so big is that somehow...” he breathed, “somehow I need to feed off guy’s cum. Gotta have it...”
“What the hell?”
“It’s true, dude. Hope you won’t mind helping me out with that every so often. Yours really was good.”
“What?” Mark was shaking his head. “What the hell are you saying?”
Troy stood up and looked at Mark. His chest was still rising and falling deeply.
“Thanks, dude. I’ll catch more of you later.” He turned toward the door, and put his tank top back on. “Gotta get some shuteye now. I’m spent.” He walked over to the door and turned back to look at Mark. “This can be our little secret, if you want.
I won’t tell a soul.” He unlocked the door and closed it as he left.
Mark stood staring at the door, his cock only now beginning to recede.
Glen raised his head slightly as the huge hulk walked past his bunk in the darkness.
Troy’s silhouette was barely visible at the other end of the room as he lifted his tank top off and slipped off his shorts. The musclehunk slipped under his covers on the lower bunk and Glen’s heart slowed. Shit, he wished there was more light in the room.
He felt himself get harder and harder as his mind replayed images of Troy. He rolled over onto his stomach and masturbated himself to sleep, cumming in a huge, wet mess all over his sheets. Just before he slipped back to sleep, he heard the door open again. Another figure walked quietly by and crawled into the bunk above Troy.
In the darkness, Glen’s eyebrows furrowed. Then he dozed back to sleep.
Officer Rob Colma racked the barbell loudly. He sat up, then stood up, almost in one motion, He turned around and eyed the barbell, and its many discs.
Five hundred pounds. The Herculean cop had just benched three reps of five hundred pounds! Some of the cops in the police gym stared, their eyes wide, mouths gaping.
Colma ripped his shirt off, and his physique glistened with fresh sweat. H e tightened into a most-muscular pose and yelled in victory. His muscles rolled in ripples. His traps swelled. He was the best-built man many of his fellow cops had ever seen. Indeed, Colma was one of the best built men anywhere.
Most bodybuilders would die for a physique like his.
A few cops came up to Colma and gave him some high-fives. He grinned. Some of the cops stood in the corners, quietly trying to hide the bulging hard-ons in their gym shorts.
Zeke walked down the sidewalk, toward his car, turning heads and causing near chaos on the street. Cars often collided when he walked down the street. Men walked into parking meters, women tripped on curbs, little boy s stared with wide eyes and open mouths. The body worshippers virtually line d the street, gawking and gasping as they saw him.
His white cotton tank top did little to hide his proportions. For some, the cotton was an incredible turn-on. His jeans bulged with each step. His fire-red hair electrified the city.
Zeke’s body was freakishly huge. Yet it wasn’t just size for the sake of size. His unbelievable mass was shrink-wrapped in a vascular, muscular network of veins and rippling sinew that truly would have been freakishly overpowering if it weren’t for his perfect symmetry. It was his proportion s that made him so awe-inspiring.
His muscles were huge, yes. So huge that a cursory glance might leave one with the impression of a cartoon or maybe an Internet-dwelling Morph. But upon just a slightly longer examination, Zeke’s sensual powerful perfection was obvious. His individual gigantic muscles were perfectly balanced with each other, combining to form such a visage of masculine beauty and—in a very real sense, wholesome good looks—that even the most jaded straight man found his stomach wrenching with envy and his cock stirring with desire.
Much of his appeal must have been due to his waistline. Its svelte, diminutive dimensions stretched all credulity. How a man could sport arms that big, and shoulders that wide, and pecs that thick, with legs that gargantuan, and ye t have a waistline so taut and minuscule in girth, caused much consternation among his worshippers.
Of course, the question begged to be asked that regardless of the size of t he waist, how could any man sport arms that pushed the tape past the 25 inch line. And yet, despite his freakish proportions, Zeke was a lesson in symmetrical beauty. He fit.
Every one of his body parts tied together wit h the whole, so that none of his proportions seemed out of place. His muscles seemed to flow. He was fluid, yet hard as steel. There was an uncanny balance between his muscles that often made his overdeveloped body seem like it belonged on the front of GQ instead of Freaky Muscle Monthly.
He slid into his convertible and started the engine. He pulled into traffic and headed for Dr. Kerr’s office.
At the intersection ahead, the light was red. Zeke pulled his car to the light, in the right lane. At his left was 36 year old Officer Colma, waiting for the light in his police cruiser. Colma, a massive black bodybuilder, was just getting o ff shift and heading back to the station. He looked down at his 22 inch arms as his hands rested on the steering wheel. His huge black guns rippled and he smiled. His five per cent body fat and 260 pounds of hard, black muscle caused many people to mistake him for the Mr. Olympia from Texas; he, too, being a cop.
Indeed, many people had suggested that Colma enter competition. But he balked.
“Contests are for fags,” he’d say. “I ain’t gonna strut my stuff while some homo glares at me and dreams about jackin’ off at me.” But secretly, Colma loved the feeling he got when some guy looked at him. He got off on making other guys feel small next to his huge musclebody. He knew, and even enjoyed the fact that many guys got hard whenever he walked by, although he would never admit taking pleasure in that fact, even to himself . Even some of his fellow cops sometimes looked at him a little longer than normal, especially while he worked out in the police gym. And truth be told, he liked it. If a guy went home and got off on him, so much the better.
But he was a true ladies man, Colma could have any woman he wanted. And he wanted. He had an insatiable appetite for sex, but only for sex with women. And they gave him what he wanted, because they loved his huge, ripped muscle body.
And he loved his body probably more than anyone. He was so hopelessly into himself, so in love with his own sense of power and muscle that he rarely thought of anything else.
Zeke pulled alongside the police cruiser. Colma looked over at him, and did a double-take. Zeke looked straight ahead.
Colma’s stomach immediately tightened as he examined Zeke’s unbelievable arms.
The black cop had rarely, if ever, been intimidated by anyone. But for the first time in memory, Colma felt a sense of awe as his eyes drank in Zeke’s arms and shoulders. Shit, this kid’s forearms alone were enough to blow Colma away! He couldn’t believe the definition! An army of muscle fibers danced with an army of veins. It was unreal! The light turned green. Colma’s eyes were transfixed on Zeke. Zeke turned his head slowly to the left and looked at Colma. The redhead smiled, raising only one corner of his lips in a smirk, half admiring the cop, half grinning that the cop was outdone.
He tensed his huge arms just a bit, his hands resting on the wheel. His 25 inch guns tightened and grew. Colma’s eyes widened.
Zeke looked forward and pulled his car ahead. Colma followed in his cruiser.
Zeke watched through the rearview mirror as the cruiser tracked him. He turned right, down a long, dusty dead-end road. After about a quarter mile, the lights on the police cruiser came on. Zeke smirked just a bit, not slo wing down. “Not quite yet, musclecop. We need to get a little more privacy,” Zeke whispered to himself.
He drove farther, the cruiser on his tail. They reached a secluded spot and Zeke slowed down and pulled off to the shoulder.
“Did I do anything wrong officer?” Zeke asked as the huge cop stood at the side of his car. He kept his hands on the steering wheel, giving the police officer a prime view of his vascular, gargantuan arms. He squeezed the wheel, causing his biceps to thicken and the muscle fibers to ripple.
“I’ll need to see your license, son,” Colma said. His game face was stern.
Zeke pulled out his wallet and handed his driver’s license to Colma. The c op examined it, then looked at Zeke. “Says here you’re 18 years old,” Colma said.
“Yes sir,” Zeke said.
Colma looked at Zeke’s arms. “How the hell does an eighteen year-old get arms that big?” Colma said.
Zeke looked at his arms and smiled. “I lift incredibly heavy weight,” he s aid.
Colma stood erect. “Yeah?” he said. “How much you bench, son?”
Zeke hesitated. “Well, sir, if I told you, I doubt you’d believe me.”
Colma checked out Zeke’s thick chest. “Try me, son.”
“Well, sir,” he said smiling up at Colma, “I can bench over twice what you can,” he grinned. “Sir.”
“Shit, kid,” Colma said. “Your mouth is almost as big as your chest!”
“I’m afraid I’m going to need you to step out of the car, son,” the officer said.
“What did I do?”
“Just step out,” Colma said.
Zeke unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door. He stepped out of his ca r and stood up. Colma took a step back and had to stifle an almost involuntary “Holy shit.” The teenager was a half-foot taller than the cop, and he had nearly one hundred pounds on him.
“Turn around and put your hands on the car, son,” Colma said.
Zeke furrowed his eyebrows, but did as the cop said.
Colma’s breath was shallow. He looked Zeke’s back side up and down; rippling muscle packed on top of beefy-hard mounds of muscle. His lats were far bigger than Colma had ever dreamed of having. His arms defied measurement; the bulges of his triceps causing the cop to stare. But Colma’s eyes quickly found their way down Zeke’s backside and onto his tight, taut musclebutt. And, supported by those unbelievable legs, that ass was the most astounding thing Colma had ever seen.
What the fuck? Why was he feeling this? He was no fag. Yet, no matter ho w hard he tried, he couldn’t get enough of that ass. Colma’s cock even seemed to tighten and thicken in response to Zeke’s taunting, hot glutes. Colma just stood there, experiencing feelings for a man—feelings that were so frightening and so foreign that he was frozen, mesmerized. He stood there, nearly gasping at the incredible beauty and muscular development of the kid.
He caught himself holding himself, nursing his thick cock through his uniform. He pulled his hand off and shook his head as he came out of the trance.
“What did I do, officer?” Zeke asked innocently.
“I’m going to have to search you for drugs,” Colma said. “Suspicion of steroids.”
“Anyone with a body that huge has to be on something,” Colma said. “Your muscles alone are just cause for a search. Spread your legs.”
Zeke smirked and tried to keep from laughing as he obeyed the musclecop. He spread his legs and widened his hands on the car’s hood, displaying his body in a position that would be sure to get Colma’s fires going.
And Colma was indeed on fire. His hard-on was a raging tree branch, ready t o burst. He soaked in the taut, huge muscleteen body. He grabbed his own crotch once again, unable to keep his hands off himself. His mouth went dry.
Slowly, Colma put his hands on Zeke’s lats. Holy shit, the kid was as hard as a statue! He moved his hands up and around the edge of Zeke’s lats, taking in all the mass and hardness. “Holy fuck,” he whispered. His fingers squeezed the hard muscles. They didn’t give. He moved his hands up and down Zeke’s back. He moved them in toward the center. Shit, he could actually feel the muscle fibers under the tank top. Colma moved his hands around to the front of Zeke’s torso and began feeling his chest.
Zeke remained still, his cock hardening as Colma’s strong hands felt him ou t. This was no ordinary frisking. Colma moved his hands onto Zeke’s shoulders, even though there was nothing to frisk there, because Zeke’s shoulders were bare.
Nonetheless, Colma placed his hands on Zeke’s inhuman deltoids and then his traps. He leaned forward and allowed his cock to push on Zeke’s butt as his hands moved down onto the redhead’s gargantuan, rock-hard arms. Colma was hot with envy as he felt Zeke’s triceps; he was hot with desire as he pushed on Zeke’s ass.
His hard-on was ready to go into action.
Colma pulled back.
“You sure you felt everything you need, officer?” Zeke taunted.
“Turn around, kid.” Colma ordered. As Zeke moved to turn, Colma slapped a handcuff on Zeke’s wrist, twisted him hard around and shoved his arms behind his back, clicking the other handcuff on his other wrist. Zeke stood there, his hands trapped behind his back.
“What the...” Zeke said. “Why are you doing this?”
“Shut up kid,” Colma said. “You’re obviously a danger, why those arms of yours could be classified as weapons.”
Zeke just stood there.
Colma looked Zeke up and down. His eyes glimmered and he had a slight smile on his face. He moved close and started feeling him again. His breathing was heavy.
He put his hand on Zeke’s pec and pressed his palm against it. Zeke danced it.
“You must like that,” Zeke smiled.
Colma pulled the fabric out and stuck his hand inside, playing with Zeke’s nipple.
The muscles rippled.
“Shit,” Colma whispered.
By now both men had erections that could only be classified as two-by-fours in their pants. Colma’s touch was like nothing Zeke had ever felt.
Colma moved his hand down onto Zeke’s cock. “Oh my god,” the officer said as his hand squeezed the fabric covering it.
“Please don’t do that,” Zeke said. “I’m not that kind of guy.”
Colma ignored him and kept feeling the tree branch in Zeke’s pants. Colma moved closer and brushed his cheek against Zeke’s face. It was getting very intimate.
“You think you can do this, just because we’re all alone out here?” Zeke whispered.
“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, officer. I’d advise you to take your hands off me right now.”
“Or what,” Colma grinned. “You’re handcuffed, kid.”
Zeke moved his arms just a bit, tensing the metal cuffs and clanging them.
“You keep touching me and I won’t be handcuffed for long.”
Colma smiled. “I’d love to see you get out of them.” He almost started laughing.
“As you wish,” Zeke smiled. The huge kid tensed his arms. Colma stepped back, surprised. Zeke closed his eyes. His arms grew. His triceps ripple d with veins and they got bigger. His shoulders thickened.
Colma’s eyes grew bigger.
Zeke started to take deep breaths as he tensed his upper body. He gritted his teeth.
Then, like some animal, he groaned and began to strain against the cuffs. He shook with power.
Zeke’s brawny body tightened and grew into such a freakish display of raw, feral strength that Colma nearly stumbled as his knees buckled at the sight. Zeke’s arms rippled more, and suddenly the handcuffs snapped. He panted as he recovered, his wrists each adorned with a shiny metal bracelet.
Colma’s eyes were red with fear. Zeke took a step toward the officer and glared at him. He whispered, “I’d say you just lost control of this situation, officer.” He smiled.
Colma immediately reached for his gun, but Zeke was too fast for him. He grabbed the gun from Colma and threw it into the brush with one almost blindingly fast motion. Colma stepped back, but Zeke moved close. Colma threw up a punch. With speed and strength beyond belief, Zeke grabbed Colma’s fist in midair and held it there. Colma winced and tried unsuccessfully to move it. He slugged his other fist at Zeke, but again, i t was intercepted, almost effortlessly. Zeke held both of Colma’s fists in his h ands and Colma shook as he tried to move the teen.
Colma kicked Zeke and hit him in the balls. Zeke winced and his eyes watered, but his grip didn’t loosen. Colma kicked again. Zeke looked down at his nuts, then up at Colma. His face grew serious. He tightened his grip on Colma’s hands, and the cop’s eyes grew wide. Searing pain shot down Colma’s forearms as Zeke crushed his wrists in his iron grip. Colma’s knee s buckled and he started to fall.
Zeke relaxed his hands. “I wouldn’t try the knee to the nuts move again, officer,” he said.
Zeke grabbed Colma and turned him around. The cop struggled and tried to grab Zeke. Colma’s back was now against Zeke’s chest. His huge black hands were all over Zeke’s face and head. It was a gallant struggle to break free, but Zeke just patiently held him there until he tired. Zeke put Colma’s arms down.
Zeke held Colma’s arms behind his back with one hand while he grabbed Colma’s spare set of handcuffs with the other. They were the plastic kind, meant for temporary restraining. But they would do the job, even for this powerful man.
Colma struggled again, trying desperately to break free. But after a few seconds his face took on a fearful, helpless expression, and it almost look ed as if the huge musclecop would cry. Then a panic came over him. As Zeke snapped the plastic rings around Colma’s thick wrists, the huge cop’s eyes watered and he jerked his body in a last-ditch effort to break free.
But his feeling of panic was nothing compared to the overwhelming fear that gripped him as Zeke moved in front of him, eyeing him up and down and smiling.
Zeke slowly lifted his tank top up, revealing first an inhumanly defined set of abs.
Then the shirt went higher, up and over his head, dropping to the ground.
Colma nearly emptied his bladder at the sight. Zeke grinned. “This is going to be fun,” he said.
Colma struggled against the cuffs. Then he bolted. But Zeke grabbed Colma’s shoulders, then swung him around and slammed his back against the driver’s door of the car. Zeke spread Colma’s legs with his own and pressed his cock against the cop’s crotch. Colma looked up at Zeke with wide eyes, almost quaking in his shoes, not unlike a professional wrestler trying to beg off the dreaded proverbial chair slamming.
But Zeke had no intention of hurting Colma, at least in that way. If perhaps later Colma suffered intense pain at the penetration, well, that might be unavoidable.
But Zeke didn’t want to hit him.
“You might need a little lesson about exactly who you’re dealing with here,” Zeke said. “Escape is impossible, officer. But just in case you might have a question about who’s in charge of this little traffic stop you think you initiated, let me give you a little demonstration.”
Zeke reached out and grabbed the side mirror of the car. He tightened his grip on it.
His arms rippled. The mirror and it’s chrome housing snapped off the side of the car. Zeke pressed his cock against Colma to hold him in place while he used both hands to take the mirror glass out of the housing. He tossed the mirror part into the brush, then gripped the chrome with both hands and started crushing it. His cock grew as it pressed against Colma and his arms bulged. The veins pulsed, feeding the massive muscles as they crushed the metal. Zeke held it right in front of Colma’s eyes and manipulated the shiny chrome like it was clay. It smashed into tiny pieces.
He grinned and tossed the metal aside, giving Colma a soft nudge with his cock.
Without waiting for an answer, Zeke stepped back. He reached down and grabbed his tank top and tied it around Colma’s ankles. “Wouldn’t want you to run off anywhere.”
Zeke sat Colma down in the dusty roadway, then slipped under the police cruiser, on his back. His head stuck out from under the hood of the car. He looked up at Colma and said “You were wondering about my bench press?” He grabbed the chassis of the car and pushed it up.
The front tires came off the ground. Colma watched, not believing what he was seeing. Zeke lowered the car and then lifted it again.
Zeke’s huge arms easily pressed the car up and down. “How many reps you think YOU can do, officer?” Zeke laughed. He continued benching the car, bulging and rippling his huge upper body in front of Colma’s awestruck eyes.
Zeke crawled out from under the car. “I have to admit that was a little bit showy,” he said smiling. “But maybe this might be a more meaningful demonstration.” He moved close to Colma and untied his ankles. “I think it’s time we took these off too,” he said as he turned Colma around and grabbed the plastic handcuffs. He snapped them apart and Colma was totally free.
Zeke held Colma tightly and stood him up. He took the officer’s hands in his own.
The two men intertwined their fingers and Zeke raised their arms high above their hands in preparation of the ironman test. Their palms were together. Zeke looked deep into Colma’s fearful eyes and began to tighten his hands, forcing Colma’s wrists backwards. Colma pressed against Zeke and stopped the his forward motion.
Zeke grinned and pushed harder, moving Colma back. Colma’s face contorted as he struggled against the inhuman brawn. Zeke forced Colma back and down, making Colma’s knees bend. Colma pushed with all his might. His body shook. Zeke barely showed any effort. Colma moved down farther. Zeke’s upper body strength was astounding, and his physique was incredible.
Zeke smiled, Colma fell lower, until his knees touched the dusty ground. The police officer’s thick, muscular forearms ached.
Zeke let go. Colma groaned and rubbed his arms and shoulders. Zeke reached down and lifted the crouched 260 pound officer up off the ground, high into the air, above his head. Colma gasped. Zeke held him there, his huge arms flexing and growing, suspending Colma in midair.
“You ready to submit?” Zeke smiled.
“What?” Colma stuttered. “What do you mean?”
“It’s total domination time,” Zeke said. “And I do mean TOTAL domination. You ever been raped?” Zeke said as he sat Colma on his feet. Immediately Colma began to throw up punches and kick. Zeke met each strike with decisive superiority. Zeke sacked Colma right in the gut, and despite the protection of the bulletproof vest, the officer doubled over, writhing.
“Shit,” Zeke said. “I tried to do it gently. Sorry.” Colma had the wind knocked out of him. He nearly fell to the ground, but steadied himself with one hand. As Zeke waited for him to recover, Colma leapt up and began punching away again, screaming and yelling. Zeke threw another punch and Colma fell to the ground.
Zeke picked up the moaning cop and carried him over to the police cruiser. He opened the back seat door and propped Colma up against the rear quarter panel.
Colma, weak and groaning in pain, nearly fell back onto the trunk. Zeke held him up and ripped off his shirt. He slowly undressed the groggy cop, throwing his bulletproof vest aside. Colma’s rippling physique was pure pleasure for Zeke to behold.
Zeke unzipped Colma’s pants. Colma looked like he was passing in and out of consciousness. Zeke pushed the pants down. Within a few minutes Colma was wearing only his boxers.
Zeke moved Colma inside the back of the cruiser, and laid him down on his back.
The leather seat creaked and groaned under his weight. Colma became more lucid and started to understand what was happening.
Zeke, still wearing only his jeans, smiled in to the almost naked musclecop. “I figure the back seat of your police car is the most appropriate place for this,” he said.
Colma started kicking, hard. But Zeke grabbed them and held them still. Colma’s powerful legs moved against Zeke’s arms and the two struggled for just a bit. “Shit, you’ve got some meaty legs here,” Zeke exclaimed. “Awesome! That’ll be just awesome! Zeke let go of one of Colma’s legs and put his hand on the inside of his quad, up next to his crotch. He pressed hard and squeezed against the nerve.
Colma winced, then almost collapsed. Zeke pressed harder. Colma yelled in agony.
“Now, let this be a lesson, officer,” Zeke said as he released Colma’s crotch. “Don’t fight anymore, or you’ll feel more of what these hands can do. Shit, you’re going to feel plenty of what they can do, but I’d rather have it be a pleasurable experience for you.” He held up his hands, looking at them. “These babies can give you an extreme amount of pleasure, officer,” he said. He looked at Colma. “I’ll bet you’ve never felt pleasure like these hands and this tongue will be giving you.” He stuck out his tongue like Mike Matarazzo and wagged it tauntingly, grinning as he withdrew it.
Even that suggestion caused Colma’s dick to begin the thickening process. And if that wasn’t enough, Zeke looked down at his belt buckle and started to undo it.
Colma watched, helpless and in part, unwilling, to resist. A bright red glory trail, the only hair on his torso, led from his lower abs into his jeans. Zeke unzipped his jeans and opened his fly. His genitals had provided a very large bulge in his pants; even Colma had noticed that. And now he saw why. Zeke tugged and pulled at the jeans, and pulled out his posers, spilling the fabric forward. The royal blue trunks held a thick, long cock and two balls that rivaled a horse’s. His dick was soft now, having subdued himself.
Zeke reached down and gently touched Colma’s boxers. His fingertips barely caressed the thick black rod. “Yeah, I think Mr. Musclecop is going to enjoy being raped by an 18 year old Hercules,” he smiled. He fondled Colma’s dick, just to the point where Colma was starting to accept the touch. Then he pulled back.
“I’ll bet I can make that even harder,” he said. He leaned forward and positioned his huge body above Colma’s. He leaned down and tenderly kissed Colma on the lips.
His own penis started growing. Colma fought. He pushed his mighty arms against Zeke, but the redhead didn’t budge. He seemed to enjoy the resistance, snuggling himself closer, kissing more passionately. Colma dug his fingers into Zeke’s mammoth arms, yet they didn’t give. Zeke smiled as he kissed Colma, almost laughing.
“Yeah,” he said, his tongue still inside Colma’s mouth. “Fight it, muscleman. Fight me. See if your big muscles can force me off.” He embraced Colma hard. He watched Colma’s face strain as the cop tried to fight him off. “Big musclecop the biggest dude in the gym, but all these big muscles of yours just don’t do the job, do they...” He leaned down closer. “Yeah, dude. Come on. Push me. Push me off.” He began kissing again.
Colma pushed with all his might. He wriggled and squirmed, panting. His arms snapped into coils of steel, intertwined muscle fighting muscle. Finally, he realized there was no use.
Colma relaxed. He put his hands on Zeke’s lats and held on, wanting to resist, but unable. Zeke moaned. He pressed his cock against Colma’s, then fully laid down on top of the musclecop’s bare torso, their skin rubbing together, pec to pec, abs to abs. Both men moaned; Zeke from pleasure and Colma from terror and confusion.
The kissing orgy lasted a good five minutes, then Zeke pulled up. He palmed Colma’s cock again. “Yeah, I thought I could make it harder.
Colma’ winced at Zeke’s touch. His hand was huge, and strong; yet his touch was soft and... well, erotic. Colma didn’t want to admit what he was feeling.
Zeke’s boner was threatening the borders of his pants, so he pulled himself out of the cruiser and stood up. He pushed his jeans down. Colma nearly choked. Zeke’s legs were so thick, so gargantuan and ripped, he couldn’t believe it
“Holy shit!” Colma gasped. “Your legs!”
“You like ‘em?” Zeke smiled. He began to ripple them, flexing them and relaxing them. They looked like two cedar tree trunks, they were so huge. And they bulged and tightened with uncanny definition and vascularity.
Zeke’s head was poking out of his posers. He reached down and ripped open his blue trunks. A gargantuan set of genitals fell forward. His cock was growing and dripping. The honey oozed out of his slit hole and dribbled down his cock, which was throbbing to the beat of his heart as it grew more and more erect.
His red pubes were trimmed and manicured. There was no hair on his horse balls.
Only a small section above his genitals were graced with a tasteful tuft.
Zeke crawled back inside the back seat and once again, put his hand on Colma’s hardon through his boxers. “Yeah, I’d say you must like what you see, officer,” he said as he moved Colma’s cock back and forth under the cotton fabric. Zeke moved his hand onto Colma’s upper leg, then slowly slipped it upward, inside the boxers, just an inch or two. He teased Colma’s crotch, coming oh so close to touching his balls, but not quite close enough.
Zeke pulled his hand out, smiling.
He leaned his body forward again, hovering over Colma’s muscular frame. Colma’s chest rose and fell deeply. Zeke supported himself with one arm, and with the opposite hand, he pulled his cock away from his abs and forced it down, sticking the end of it up Colma’s boxer’s leg, where his hand had been, only seconds earlier.
Zeke’s cock pulled the fabric away from Colma. He moved upward, and his cock went inside the cop’s underpants farther. It dominated Colma’s genitals, forcing its way on top and pushing them aside.
Zeke laid back down. His cock dribbled honey all over Colma’s, which was also spewing precum. Zeke thrust his dick back and forth and smiled, gazing into the cop’s eyes. “You know,” he said as he started kissing Colma’s face again, “dominating you like this makes me even hornier. And I think you’re getting pretty horny too.” He pulled back. “Let’s see just how horny you really are, Mr.
Musclecop.” Zeke moved to the side, sliding partially over onto the floor of the back seat. He pulled at Colma’s boxers and then started massaging. His big hand manipulated Colma’s rock-hard cock, teasing it and bending it. Colma’s whole body tensed.
Zeke grinned. He pulled the boxers down and exposed Colma’s penis and testicles.
His boner was probably nearly a foot long, extending well up above his navel. It was wet with his own precum and Zeke’s.
Zeke took his fingertips and softly ran them up the cock. Colma held his breath.
Zeke tickled it and teased it, stimulating the cop like he’d never been stimulated before.
Zeke smiled at Colma. “Mmmmm. You like this.” He pet Colma very very softly, not even closing his fingers around the cock. Colma tried to not show any reaction, but Zeke’s fingers were driving him wild. Zeke continued for a few minutes, the he gently closed his hand around Colma’s rigid member. The precum was flowing heavy now. Zeke’s hand wrapped around the hard, long cock and began to ever-soslowly pump up and down. They were torturously slow, gentle pumps. The skin of Colma’s cock moved up and down the solid steel rod—slowly, laboriously. Colma winced.
Zeke leaned forward and kissed Colma once. Then he looked down at the hand-job he was giving. He capped the slit hole of the penis with his thumb and gently tightened his grip, pressing Colma downward only slightly. Zeke’s wet thumb started moving around and around the cock head, sloshing Colma’s precum, spreading the shiny honey all over the helmet. Slowly, very slowly.
Instinctively, Colma started to push against Zeke’s hand. But Zeke pulled back, controlling the resistance very closely. “Oh, you want more,” Zeke smiled. He backed off and opened up his hand. Colma’s dong slammed against his abs with a low thud. The precum splashed.
“Uh oh,” Zeke teased. “What a mess I’ve made. Maybe I should clean it up.” He moved his face down and began licking Colma’s abs. The muscles tightened in front of Zeke’s eyes. He moved his tongue downward and licked up the juice just above Colma’s pubes, but not touching the dick. Well, maybe the edge of his tongue brushed against the dick, but only enough to further the torture.
Zeke got harder and harder the more time his face spent close to the hard, black rippling torso. Shit, he was going to love fucking this muscleman. Colma’s professional-caliber body writhed with torturous pleasure as Zeke licked his abs.
Zeke had fucked a lot of muscleguys in the past few months, but Colma was in a league by himself.
The cop’s arms bulged and rippled as he alternately held his breath, then breathed heavy, almost panting gulps of air. Zeke propped Colma’s stiff, long cock up on his temple as he continued licking the lower abs. He pulled on the big black balls, but didn’t touch the shaft. Then, he turned his head slightly and stuck the tip of his tongue out and brushed the cock, mixing his saliva with the wet, sticky precum.
Colma tensed. Zeke slowly ran his tongue up to the head. He paused, then pulled his head back. The stiff rob thwapped loudly against Colma’s abs. The cop groaned.
“Oh, you’re liking this?” Zeke smiled. He tore Colma’s boxers from where they had been wrapped around his upper legs. He tossed them outside the police cruiser onto the dirt road. He put his huge hand between Colma’s legs and moved it upward, until his middle fingertip knocked on the door of his ass hole. “Let’s give you a little preview of what’s to come,” Zeke grinned. He pushed open the hole and slid his finger inside Colma’s ass.
Colma jerked. “Oh shit, no,” he moaned. The cock work was fantastic, but he’d never had anything up his butt before. This was disgusting. “Oh jesus, no,” he groaned.
Zeke smiled and stared at Colma’s pained face. His finger moved upward. His clenched fist pressed against Colma’s ass. His finger was fully inserted. He wiggled it. Colma’s dick started to go limp.
“Uh oh,” Zeke said. “We can’t have that.” He leaned downward and with the tip of his tongue started massaging Colma’s cock. Immediately, it grew hard again. Zeke started working tactile miracles on it, tickling it, licking it, kissing it in all the right places. Colma moaned. He put his hand on Zeke’s head, urging him to continue.
Zeke sat up. “I’m glad this is turning into such an enjoyable experience for you, officer. But now it’s time for ME to have a little satisfaction.” He pulled out of the back seat and stood up. He grabbed Colma’s ankles and pulled his ass to the edge of the seat, his big black legs sticking outside of the car. Zeke repositioned himself.
He looked at the open car door.
“This thing is just going to get in the way,” he said. He dropped Colma’s legs and wrapped one arm around the top of the door, the other hand on the hinge-side of the door. His mighty body tightened. The door creaked. Zeke’s biceps grew. His face tensed. The door creaked some more. He pushed on the ground with his bulging Herculean legs. Zeke closed his eyes and with a sudden SNAP the door came off the car. He stood straight and smiled, holding the car door in his mammoth arms.
“Holy fucking christ!” Colma gasped, looking downward out the back seat.
Zeke turned and threw the door into the bushes. “You’re going to have a little explaining to do when they see this car,” he said. “I’d love to know what you’re going to tell them.”
Colma’s eyes were bugging out.
Zeke’s hardon was a raging, red animal. He loved seeing Colma’s reaction to his little door feat. He leaned toward Colma and grabbed his ankles again, spreading his legs wide.
Colma’s astonishment turned to horror. “Oh shit no!”
Zeke smiled, bent his legs, leaned forward and began pressing the shiny red head of his cock against Colma’s glory hole. Colma began fighting. He jerked around like a mad man. Zeke’s big hands tightened around Colma’s ankles, spreading his legs even wider.
“Shit NO!” Colma screamed.
Zeke’s head forced its way in, and as soon as the huge helmet cleared the hole, it wrapped tightly around the base of the cut. Colma groaned, but started to settle down. Zeke moved in farther.
Colma froze. The sensation was so new! He watched as Zeke, obviously in a state of intense pleasure, stared back.
Zeke’s lips quivered and he bared his teeth as his giant cock slipped farther and farther inside, parting the dark tunnel with its thick, muscular girth.
Zeke’s body rippled. He let go of Colma’s legs, having secured a tight lock on the cop’s ass. He hit a most muscular pose, and Colma nearly fainted. He had never seen so much striated, ripped muscle before. The buff teen was inhuman
Zeke hit a few more poses. “Touch my pecs, cop,” he demanded.
Colma obeyed immediately. His black hands felt the dancing pecs. His cock tightened as he took in the hard, huge jugs. Zeke leaned closer and embraced Colma. Colma moved his hands to Zeke’s back and held on for dear life.
Slowly, Zeke bucked his hips as the two men hugged. He began kissing Colma, frenching him and exploring his mouth. He rocked his hips again, moving his hard mass inside the cop.
Colma began to ejaculate. Hard, white globs of cum began to squirt out onto the two men’s chests and abs. He jerked uncontrollably as he felt the powerful kid move only millimeters within him, dominating him like his 260 pound physique was a rag doll. Zeke moved back and forth, holding Colma tightly. Splash after splash of Colma’s cum slickened the muscles of their torsos as they rubbed together.
“You must like this after all,” Zeke smiled.
Colma couldn’t respond. He just kept jerking. His hands dug into Zeke’s lats.
Zeke’s eyes went half-mast and Colma, despite his uncontrollable orgasm, could tell something was happening. Zeke bucked a little more intensely. Then he froze.
Slowly he pressed harder against Colma, ramming his cock higher inside. He pushed harder, his body tightening. His traps grew into two huge rocks. His veins began to bulge out.
He opened his eyes all the way and looked into Colma’s face. “Hold on, dude,” he said.
With that, Zeke’s floodgates opened and his cock began to click out burst after burst of hot, steamy cum inside Colma. His arms tightened around Colma, and the cop screamed in agony as the brawny biceps started to crush him. Zeke jerked hard, so hard that it nearly snapped Colma’s back. The cop yelled. Zeke stuck his tongue inside Colma’s mouth, if not to stifle the screaming, then to enjoy the experience more fully. He moaned and emptied himself into Colma.
“Oh shit,” Zeke panted. “Oh shiiiiiit.” He humped hard, and Colma writhed in pain.
Zeke’s hard cock pounded the cop’s ass. “Oh shit I wanted to do you as soon as I saw you back at that stop light,” Zeke moaned, his grip tightening even harder.
Colma’s hands moved down onto Zeke’s ass. Zeke’s muscular butt rose and fell, contracting and flexing under Colma’s adoring hands.
The first orgasm lasted nearly five minutes. Before Zeke was done, he did Colma two more times, once on the hood of the car, and then again in a posing session/ sex feast down by the creek, below where the cars were parked.
As Zeke carried Colma’s exhausted body back up to the road he looked at the police cruiser. “Shit, you ARE going to have some explaining to do when your Captain sees this.” He looked at the car. One of the back doors was missing and the back seat and the hood were covered with globs of dried cum. “That’s going to be hard to get off the leather,” Zeke smiled. “And I think it’s going to do a number on the paint job,” he said, looking at the hood.
He grabbed Colma’s uniform and tossed it in his own car as he got dressed. “And of course, they’re going to wonder why you don’t have any clothes, either,” he grinned. He started his car and looked up at Colma. “Nice meeting you, officer. I hope I wasn’t too forward.”
He sped off and left a trail of dust as the bewildered bodybuilder cop stood there, amazed.