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

Chapter 11: Arnold

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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	When he realized he was being watched through the peep hole of the
door next to him he decided to put on a little show. He put the boxes he
was carrying in the living room and then did a quick set of fifty
push-ups. He didn't want to make it look like he was posing, he just wanted
everything to pump up right. As he walked out the door, back to the
elevator, he could definitely hear her voice coming from right on the other
side of the door. He flared his back and pumped his calves as he walked. He
knew the effect this would have on his ass and he exaggerated the movement
slightly. Of the several things he could carry next, he chose the two
seabags. This would give him a chance to show full front and he could
pretend the bags were extremely heavy, flexing his biceps and delts. But
the best trick was yet to come. As he reached down to lift the two seabags
he adjusted his cock a bit so that it was just barely hanging on to the
fabric of his cut-offs. At the right moment he would flex his cock and
shake his right leg. The cock would do the rest.
	He waited until he was about halfway down the
walkway. Flex. Shake. Out dropped his rope-like cock. He leaned down to
look at it with a "Gee, how did that happen" look on his face. He shrugged
as though it weren't something worth bothering with at the moment and
continued towards his, and his neighbor's, door. A few steps later he
"realized" that the damn thing was just too much in the way and set the
seabags down. He grabbed his cock and stuffed it back up in his shorts as
though he were picking up some coins that had fallen through a hole in his
pocket. He almost smiled smugly, thinking about what kind of a rise he was
getting out of the person on the other side of the door. Hefting the
seabags back up and making sure that he flexed his muscles to full effect,
he carried them into his bedroom. He thought he'd tease the person a bit
and waited a couple of minutes before making the next trip.
	He returned to the elevator and grabbed a couple of boxes filled
with books. As he approached the door to his neighbors apartment a familiar
sound caught his ear. Ca-chick, ca-chick, ca-chick. A camera shutter. He
had been modeling enough to recognize an SLR when he heard one. Someone was
taking photos of him through the peep hole. This was getting
interesting. Yup, that was the sound of a camera shutter, all right. Okay,
folks, it's show time. He set the boxes down in the living room and
adjusted his cock for escape mode again.
	This time, as he walked out the door, he looked out into the
distance and pretended that something had caught his eye. He
paused. Ca-chick. He leaned against the railing. Ca-chick. He took a very
deep breath, knowing this would expand his chest to a formidable
circumference. Ca-chick, ca-chick, ca-chick. And then he flexed his cock,
shook his leg and out it came. Ca-chick, ca-chick. He casually looked down
at it, shook his head as though showing despair at the behavior of a small
child, turned and took it in his left hand so the view of the camera wasn't
obstructed. Ca-chick, ca-chick, ca-chick, ca-chick, ca-chick, ca-chick. He
studied it as though trying to figure out what could be causing this errant
hunk of flesh to behave so. Maybe if he pet it, it would behave. He did
so. Then, gently, as if putting a sleeping child back to rights in his bed
without waking him, he placed his cock back up in his cut-offs, tucked it
in and then pet it again. There. That's better. As he walked back to the
elevator for another armload he almost broke out laughing. He had to
hesitate for a moment before turning around to make sure he had everything
under control. He would ask for copies later.
	He heard the shutter go off a few more times, but it was hard to
look sexy with two-hundred-fifty pound boxes of books in his arms. Or maybe
that was the appeal. When he had finished with that elevator load he
grabbed a drink of water and headed down stairs for the last of his labors.
	He was just pulling another box out of the back of the truck when
he noticed Patty coming towards him from the back of the building. She had
showered, carried a gym bag and had a glow on that could only have come
from a rip-roaring orgasm. He suspected he had been the subject of her
fantasy. The look she gave him certainly seemed to support that thought.
	He asked her about this gym she worked at. He thought he had
visited them all when he was here earlier, but the name and description
didn't sound familiar. She promised him a tour of the place and then said
she was off to her sister's that night. Dinner plans were confirmed for the
following evening and there was a brief discussion about the tastes and
convictions of contest judges. They both had fallen victim to the same
problem: Their bodies were too different to fit the mold of a contest
winner. It was possible that kind of narrow-mindedness wouldn't exist at
the upper echelons of the contest world, but how could you find out if you
couldn't get out of the starting gate?
	Patty started to leave, but noticed that some jerk, this jerk, had
left his car parked in front of hers. It figured his spot was next to hers,
seeing as his apartment was. He would either have to remove the towing
mechanism or have someone hold it up while the car was moved. He didn't
relish the thought of standing in front of a running vehicle trying to
support it while Patty drove the car, and he needed the tow bar on to take
it to the truck rental place so that he could get home. He opted for the
physical labor.
	After releasing the parking brake and confirming the shift was in
neutral he grabbed the tow bar and pulled the car forward. Patty offered to
help but he just wanted her to stand back and watch. He knew what effect
this effort was having on his muscles. It wasn't often that you got a
chance to really flex them for a reason. He leaned back and thrust his
crotch forward so his cock and balls stuck way out. Patty apparently
couldn't stand it. She dropped her gym bag and jogged over to "help". He
saw it coming. She put one hand on the tow bar to pull and the other went
straight to the enormous bulge in the front of his cut-offs. She squeezed,
sending a tremendous wave of pleasure bolting through his body.
	 Arnold, however, had good reason to suspect her actions were not
going unnoticed by the local paparazzi. Not that he cared about it himself,
obviously, but he wasn't sure how differently Patty would act, had she
known they were possibly being viewed.
	"I suppose you think that's helping getting the job done. What will
the neighbors think?"
	He hoped she would realize that he wasn't taking offense at her
actions. She looked momentarily puzzled. Then she caught his drift.
	"You think we're being observed?"
	"I have my suspicions. It doesn't bother me. I just thought you
should know in case you had any qualms about it."
	"Listen, Shape, if it weren't against the law I'd make you fuck me
right here on the hood of this car, hoping every wonderful moment was being
broadcast on CNN. No, honey. If it doesn't bother you it doesn't bother
me."
	All this was said as her hand continued to knead the huge mound of
flesh that threatened to burst through the fly of his shorts.
	"I've got to get to work, and this isn't helping one bit. I'll see
you tomorrow night, darlin'. You keep that sweet thing humming and I'll
take care of you real good."
	"Don't worry, Patty. I don't think it'll fall off between now and
then."
	Patty gave his cock one last pat and headed off for her car. As she
drove past him out of the parking lot he saw her grab her own breast and
give it a squeeze. It was going to be a long time between now and tomorrow.
	He headed back to the truck and noticed that she had left her gym
bag sitting on the ground. He smiled at the thought of having distracted
her enough that she would have driven off without it. He picked it up and
contemplated going after her with it, but he wasn't sure where this Pump
House was so he set it in the truck, thinking she'd realize what had
happened and return for it.
	He looked at what remained in the back of the truck and was pleased
that he had made such great progress in just a couple of hours. He was
getting hungry, but figured he only had two or three elevator loads to
go. The hardest part would be the large, flat cardboard box tied to the
wall of the truck. Everything else went up in two trips with lots of short
shuttle runs from truck to hallway and elevator to apartment.
	Finally all that was left was the large box. He had stopped at the
store and made this purchase just after picking up the truck yesterday. His
housewarming present to himself. It was six inches thick, about the size of
a three-quarter inch sheet of plywood and about twice as heavy. As he
picked it up he looked down to enjoy the sight of his pecs as they
swelled. He had done this many times today. He had done this many times for
many days. Everyone, including himself, loved to run their hands over the
surface of these twin mounds of flesh, feeling their firmness, sensing the
power they contained. He held the heavy box against his chest and enjoyed
the feeling of his pecs as they crushed against the cardboard. Each step
caused the rough surface of the box to rub against his nipples, stimulating
them to erection.
	All in all, the day had gone very smoothly. He had successfully
moved into a new apartment right on the beach, received what was probably
the best blow-job of his life, lined up what promised to be a truly wild
session of sex with the indomitable Patty, gotten off on a little
exhibitionism up on the sixth floor walkway with (hopefully) eight by ten
glossies to prove it, his pecs were hard and firm, his nipples were hard
and firm, his dick could, at a moment's notice become hard and firm. What a
day. And it was only half past noon. He figured if all that happened for
the rest of the day was that he got the mess up on the sixth floor into
some sort of order he'd could go to sleep a most contented, if somewhat
exhausted, fellow.
	The box didn't fit in the elevator. No matter how hard he tried,
turning it this way and that, backing out and turning it over, it wouldn't
go in.
	"That's okay," he muttered to himself. "It's only six floors."
	There was a point, somewhere between the forth and fifth floor,
when he really started to feel the effects of that morning's work-out. He
set the box down on the landing, laid it against the wall and looked down
at his body. Everything seemed to be as big and powerful as ever. Some of
it, like his thighs, pecs and biceps, seemed to be slightly larger than
when he had started. But he was running out of energy. He had to get some
food pretty soon or the ol' bod was going to run out of gas. With one final
Herculean effort, he moved the box to the next floor, out onto the walkway
and down to his apartment.
	He was absolutely covered with sweat; his cut-offs were soaked
through. He had that same satisfied buzz he got at the end of a good
work-out session, added to the sense of satisfaction at having gotten the
job done. He decided to take a quick shower before heading out to get
something to eat. It took ten minutes to dig around and find his shaving
kit, another five to find a towel and two seconds to realize that the last
occupants of the apartment had taken the shower curtain with them. He found
the top sheet that had been on his mattress that morning and threw it over
the curtain rod. It was minimally effective in preventing the bathroom from
flooding, so he showered quickly.
	As he came out of the bathroom, he was drawn to the wall of windows
at the far end of the living room that faced the (semi-ugly) railing and
out to the beach and ocean. He walked over, slid the glass door aside and
stepped out onto the balcony. A fresh breeze caressed his naked body,
sending a slight chill up his spine. His nipples reacted by tightening. His
huge cock reacted by recoiling slightly. His balls beat a hasty retreat to
the safety of his abdomen.
	One of the things he liked about this place was the absence of
vantage points, such as sewing room windows, from which people could peek
into his room. He loved being looked at, but he generally liked to choose
his own time and conditions. He enjoyed the thought that he could stand
here on his balcony, totally naked, and be completely unobserved.