Eleven-and-a-half: A Fantasy Of Great Length by Ray Wilder

Chapter 10: Flashback

This is a work of fiction. All the characters, events and locations
portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons,
events or locations is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 1996. All rights, implicit or implied, except for
distribution by this archive and personal use by the individual downloading
the file, are reserved. Inquiries regarding publishing rights for this book
should be directed to: raywild@aol.com

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	Arnold continued to enjoy his explorations into developing his
muscles and using them to increase the intensity of his sexual
experiences. Masturbation became as much a part of the process as the
exercises themselves. Even though he lacked any guidance as to the proper
way to go about this, by the time Arnold was sixteen he had managed to
develop a body that stopped crowds at the swimming pool. What he really
needed was someone to take this groundwork and build on it.
	When he got to high school he teamed up with a gym teacher,
Mr. Ridell, who was a great admirer of Arnold's developing physique and
blossoming cock. During junior and senior year he took Arnold under his
wing, guiding him through a tough physical regimen that helped complete the
ground work for his body's current condition and sexual appetite.
	Mr. Ridell would work with him after school, encouraging Arnold to
exercise on the available gym equipment. There were some free weights, a
rowing machine, ropes to climb, a peg board to surmount, and Mr. Ridell's
pride and joy: a Universal weight machine. These, and a rigorous cycle of
calisthenics, soon gave Arnold's muscles size and definition and his body
the power to sustain longer and longer training periods.
	Mr. Ridell would always stand around holding a basketball in front
of his crotch, thinking that Arnold didn't notice the erection he sported
throughout most of the work-out session. He would only put it down when it
was necessary to assist Arnold in his exercises, such as sit-ups, or
holding the bottom of the rope as he climbed. The most uncomfortable for
him was when he had to stand over the bench and spot Arnold as he pressed
increasingly larger amounts of weight, his pectorals and triceps exploding
in size with each thrust up of the barbell. Arnold actually enjoyed
Mr. Ridell's attentions and tried to find ways to increase the man's
interests.
	At the end of each work-out Mr. Ridell would insist on Arnold
taking a long hot shower. He didn't want him going home all hot and sweaty;
Arnold's parents might think that he wasn't taking care of their boy. If
the truth had been known, and it generally wasn't, Arnold's parents
couldn't give half a shit about their boy. Arnold's parents were far to
involved in making each others lives as miserable as possible to worry
about whether their son came home from school hot, sweaty, or at all. The
attentions of this man and his guidance in helping Arnold become something
more than a burden to an already dying marriage were quite welcomed.
	So when it came time to take that long, hot shower, Arnold didn't
mind that Mr. Ridell would take up position just outside the showers,
basketball firmly in place, and talk to Arnold about things: About the
work-out session, about girls, about his big cock, about life, about what
Arnold was going to do after high school, about his body and how this
muscle group was improving or that one required a bit more attention. He
would have Arnold flex the corresponding muscle, pointing out the progress
or deficiency observed.
	Mr. Ridell had shown Arnold some muscle magazines that included
numerous photos of "the other Arnold". In it there were shots of men
posing, showing off their muscles to their best advantage. There were
discussions about diet and contests and tanning and how a great body made
you great in bed and lots of pictures of chesty young ladies hanging around
the neck, or sitting on the flexed bicep, of some well-developed young
man. The one thing that Arnold noticed was that, although these guys all
had arms and pecs and delts and traps and lats and gluts and everything
else bigger than Arnold, he had them all beat when it came to filling up
the front of a bathing suit. In fact, through his experiences in the
showers of all the gym classes he had ever taken, he never once saw anyone
as hung as he was. He knew that, with a great set of muscles and a really
tight fitting set of posing trunks he would be the hottest thing on the
beach, or even at one of these contests that the magazine referred to.
	Mr. Ridell constantly made reference to his 'swinging dick'. Every
time he did Arnold would swing it around in a circle. "Yep, you're going to
make a lot of women very happy and a lot of men very jealous with that
thing." That's what Mr. Ridell said. "Go ahead, son, pull that thing out
and let me see it swing." And Arnold would grab hold of the end of it, pull
it out to its full length and then make it twirl around in a circle.
	"Christ, son, I bet that thing weighs a good three or four
pounds. I bet it gets real heavy when it gets hard, don't it?" So Arnold
would stroke it a bit and it would start to get nice and hard.
	Mr. Ridell would start rolling the basketball around the front of
his crotch. "You shoot that thing off much?" He'd ask.
	"Every day," was the expected response. If he hadn't cum yet that
day Mr. Ridell would encourage him to "wank off" right there in the
shower. "It's not natural for a cock like that not to cum at least once a
day. Them huge balls of yours are gonna get all plugged up unless you
exercise 'em, just like them pecs of yours."
	Arnold would turn to the soap dispenser, thoughtfully mounted there
by Mr. Ridell and stocked with a soap that didn't irritate the skin of his
cock, and squeeze out a handful of the slippery liquid. He'd get his cock
nice and hard and then start to pump it with both hands, one behind the
other, the slick soap allowing his hands to slide easily up and down the
shaft of his prodigious member. Occasionally Mr. Ridell would offer
suggestions that would improve the feel, such as a different grip or
tickling the head. But after a few minutes he'd just lean back against the
shower entrance and watch as his protegˇ pumped his hands up and down
his massive tool. Arnold would soon forget that Mr. Ridell was there and
would slip into a reverie, all alone. Finally he would ejaculate, shooting
cum all over himself or the wall of the shower.
	"Boy, you're gonna blow a hole clean through that ceiling one day."
	One of Arnold's favorite exercises was the pull-up bar because it
was right in front of the window to the gym office. With the lights out on
the other side of the glass, it acted as a mirror and Arnold could watch as
he pulled himself up to the bar, his biceps and lats swelling as he went
through the series of exercises that included different hand placements. He
could also watch Mr. Ridell watch him. Mr. Ridell would stand close to
Arnold with the excuse that he was spotting him. His eyes would lock onto
Arnold's cock bulging within his gym shorts and his own cock, now unhidden
by the ever-present basketball, would push its way down his pant leg.
	Sometimes Arnold would decide to give Mr. Ridell a thrill. He had
learned how to flex his semi-hard cock and give his leg a quick shake,
releasing it from his jockstrap, an article of clothing that never seemed
to be sufficient enough to completely hold his huge dick; the head of his
cock or one of his gigantic balls was constantly threatening to fall
out. He'd start to get a hard on and then: Flex. Shake. His thick tool
would come tumbling out of the leg of his shorts. Mr. Ridell would pretend
that nothing was out of the ordinary, except to tell Arnold not to stop so
that he didn't ruin the effect of the exercise. Arnold wouldn't stop and
his cock would swing back and forth for the rest of the reps.