Date: Wed, 18 May 2016 17:12:41 +0000 (UTC)
From: Boyatt Hart <boyatthart@yahoo.com>
Subject: Bull Sessions (episode 3 - part 1)

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your favorite online forums for sexual content.

Given the length of this episode I thought it best to split it into two parts.


BULL SESSIONS
by Boyatt Hart


Episode 3 - The Lifting Buddy (part 1)


The next weekend Luther had a date to get some pussy so I decided to go
back to Old Eighty Eights in hopes of spending more time with Everett.  I
got there early enough to have dinner at Luigi's again thinking I might see
him there, but no luck.

When I walked in there was someone else at the piano.  I went up to Phil at
the bar and shook his hand.

"Budweiser," I said, "Where's Everett?"

"Went out of town for the weekend.  Set me up with this fellow as his
replacement," came his reply.

"Thanks," I said as he pushed my beer across the bar, "Guess I'll just mix
and mingle, then."

"You were a big hit last time," he said with a wink, "I suspect you'll get
a nibble or two."

I thanked him and then turned to look over the small but growing crowd.
Spying a couple of the fellows from the group I'd taken up with on my
previous visit I walked over and joined them at their table.  They greeted
me with much back slapping and copping of a few quick feels.  Their
attention and acceptance felt nice and we picked up right where we'd left
off.

The replacement piano man was pretty good but he was no Everett; neither on
the keys nor as eye candy.  However, the atmosphere was just as lively and
I soon found myself in the midst of another great evening.

Around ten o'clock I saw a young man in his early twenties walk in.  He was
a good sized fellow with sandy light brown hair who clearly shared my
interest in lifting.  His build was impressively thick and muscular with a
fairly low center of gravity.  He kept to himself, but once he spied me his
eyes followed my every move.

"Looks like you've got a new fan," one of my table mates teased.

"Yeah, good looking kid but too young for me," I replied.

As I kept making the rounds and chatting various men up I saw him keeping
tabs on me.  I decided to go introduce myself.  He looked a little uneasy
as he saw me approaching the bar where he sat.

"Terry," I said as I stuck my hand out to him, "and you are?"

"Glen," he said looking a little flustered and unable to keep his eyes off
my belly.

"Pleased to meet you, Glen," I said as he accepted my hand.

His was good sized and sinewy, although a bit smaller than mine and
surprisingly smooth for a guy who obviously had pushed some good poundage.
Like a typical 'young buck' he couldn't resist testing my grip as he pumped
my hand.  I acknowledged it with a smile and responded with enough force to
make him wince before releasing him.

"Hell of a grip you've got there!" he said with a mix of embarrassment and
admiration.

"You, too," I responded good naturedly, "You've clearly pushed some heavy
iron."

"Not as much as you," he said making a show of shaking his hand.

"Looks like you're about empty there.  Another?" I asked.

"Love one," he replied, "Budweiser."

"Can we have a couple more Buds here, Phil?" I asked.

The man on my other side apparently found my tight fit between them
uncomfortable enough that he quickly vacated his bar stool, so I pulled it
over and sat facing Glen with my legs parted.  I studied his masculine
features as his eyes roved down my chest to my belly and finally lingered
on the bulge in the crotch of my slightly too tight slacks.  I found myself
thinking that if he were ten years my senior rather than my junior he would
be pretty much everything I love in a man.

I startled him a bit when I reached down and interrupted his gaze by lazily
scratching the object of his attention for his benefit.  He looked up into
my eyes and blushed.

"I'm sorry," he stammered, "It's my first time in a place like this."

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," I assured him with a smile as I
laid my hand on his shoulder, "I dare say every man in here including me
likes them."

He laughed and regained his composure.  I complimented his build and moved
the conversation to lifting.  He lit up and quizzed me at length about my
routine, surprised that I worked out alone in my garage.

I asked about his as well.  He belonged to a gym that advocated those
universal machines.

We talked about the pros and cons of free weights versus machines.  He said
his whole reason for taking up lifting was to gain the kind of muscular
bulk I had, but that the focus at his gym was more on definition.  He'd
added what bulk he had in spite of the admonitions of the gym staff and
asked me what I thought he needed to do make the gains he was really after.

I explained that definition was the entire reason behind their machines
because they isolated only the muscles that function in a given movement,
and that I thought the gains he wanted would be more readily made if he
switched to free weights.

"I've achieved this much bulk because my entire body gets used in every
exercise I perform," I said, "For example, holding a loaded barbell level
to maintain proper form when I do curls requires the effort of a whole host
of peripheral muscle groups.  They respond accordingly.  And, since the
only equipment I use is a bench, every other exercise requires me to clean
the weight to commence it.  I think cleans are the most effective way to
develop a strong core."

"No squat rack?" he asked.

"Nope," I confirmed, "I like the idea of functional strength in practical
applications.  I can't think of many applications where something heavy
would already be positioned high enough for me to just step right under it
and go.  And every practical application of lifting heavy things I can
think of requires you to maintain your balance with them."

"Good point," he observed.

"I do grant that my legs would be a lot stronger if I worked with a rack,
though.  Lighter weights and higher reps is generally another part of a
recipe for definition," I admitted, "but it's the one sacrifice I make in
the interest of strengthening my core."

"So how much do you squat under that condition?" he asked.

"Front or back squats?" I asked him to clarify.

"Both," he shot back.

"295 on the fronts because that's the limit on my ability to clean right
now.  Last night I got fifteen, thirteen and twelve for reps.  Back squats
I did 275 because that's my current limit for getting the bar off my clavs
and behind my head."

"That's what you call working light?" he asked looking a little astonished,
"How many reps?"

"Two sets of twenty and one of seventeen," I replied, "Technically I should
be able to do heavier poundages with the back squats than the front because
your hips and shoulders naturally stay directly under the weight.  It wants
to tip forward during the front squats."

"This probably helps keep it centered," he said as he reached out and ran
his hand over my belly.

"No doubt it plays a role," I said with a laugh as I laid my hand on his
and pressed it to me.

"Damn!  That thing feels like a boulder!" he exclaimed.

"Strong core," I replied observing the growing lump in his crotch as he
admired my paunch, "can't lift heavy without one.  And, to your point, I
don't think of it as 'working light', just working within my limits under
the circumstance, which keeps me focused on expanding those limits."

In spite of his youthful age I found myself taking a liking to him as we
talked at length about our mutual interest in weights.  He asked whether I
favored Olympic lifting or powerlifting, owning up to his greater
admiration for the brute strength of powerlifting.

"I think the Olympic lifts require more athleticism," I replied, "and, as
such, develop a more usable strength."

"Now I understand how you settled on the exercises you built your routine
around," he said while studying my size advantage, "Only a fool would argue
with your results."

"Well, trust me...if one of those monster powerlifter guys challenged my
philosophy I would be the last one to tell him that his ideas on strength
are misguided," I said, bringing a laugh from him.

He openly looked me over some more with an expression that suggested he was
screwing up his courage to broach a topic he was not entirely comfortable
with.  After some silence he finally came out with it.

"Is there any chance I could get you to fuck me?  Tonight, I mean?" he
asked, appearing to brace himself for rejection.

"Glen, you're a great looking guy so I'd be a fool to say no," I said,
looking serious as I sized up the sexy contours of his husky build, "Are
you sure that's what you want?"

"Never been so sure!" he confirmed with a wide smile.

"Then let's drink up," I said, giving him a wink.

We finished our beers and I settled my tab with Phil, then bade him
goodbye.  We went to our cars and Glen followed me home practically riding
my bumper the whole way, arriving there shortly after eleven.

He immediately wanted to see my garage.  I led him there and turned on the
light.  He studied the hodgepodge collection of plates and discs that
adorned the bar I'd left perched on my weight bench.

"How much?" he asked.

"315 including the bar," I replied.

"Damn!  That's more than fifty pounds over my single best!" he exclaimed,
"How many?"

"One set of seven and two sets of five," I told him.

"Can I see you do one?  Just one...please?" he asked with nearly child-like
fervor.

"Alright," I said with a smile as I began unbuttoning my shirt, "but just
one...it's late."

I peeled my shirt back off my shoulders and handed it to him.  His eyes
grew wide as he took in his first sight of my bare torso.

Getting myself in position beneath the bar I placed my hands on it in a
medium wide grip and, with a loud grunt, quickly lifted it off the rests
above me.  Very slowly I lowered it while taking in a deep breath until the
bar pressed against my swelled chest.  Then, just as slowly, I raised it
back to full extension, my cheeks billowing out as I exhaled with a growl,
and cradled it in the rests once more.  I sat up and saw him grinning
ear-to-ear.

"Unbelievable!" he blurted out, "I want to try one!"

"Knock yourself out," I said as I stood up and positioned myself at the
head of the bench to spot for him.

He pitched my shirt to me, which I draped over my shoulder, and then
proceeded to peel his off and pitch it to me as well.  I was impressed with
his combination of bulk and definition.  A sexy dusting of sandy fuzz
fanned out across two very meaty pecs perched above his smooth belly and I
couldn't help giving him the wolf's whistle.

He laughed and bounced his pecs for me before quickly slipping under the
bar.  I smiled at his cheeky display.

He positioned his hands in the same grip I had used and set his jaw as he
tried to hoist it out of the rests.  It refused to budge.

Again he tried accompanied by a deep growl, but once more the bar mocked
him.  He laughed as he looked up at me with the same mix of embarrassment
and admiration I'd seen him display after testing my grip at Old Eighty
Eights.

"Third time's the charm," he said sounding sure of himself.

He let fly with a roar that I was sure the neighbors could hear as he
fought like hell to get the bar aloft.  I began to erect as I watched his
handsome pecs quivering under the strain.  His feet finally came up off the
floor as his effort peaked.

"WHOA!" I cautioned him, "Don't ever let your feet leave the floor when
you're working with free weights.  They're unforgiving as hell and the
worst can absolutely happen."

"Sorry," he said as he quickly planted his feet back down on the concrete
floor with his exhausted arms dangling from his wide, round shoulders in
admission of defeat.

"I-I-I think you lost this round, Boo-Boo," I said in my best Yogi Bear.

He broke into a hardy laugh as he sat up.

"I didn't really expect to be able to get out a rep with it, but I thought
I'd be able to at least get it out of the rests.  After seeing you do one I
just had to know how heavy it felt," he said.

I walked around to the foot of the bench and offered him my hand, pulling
him to his feet.  He firmly roamed my torso with both hands.

"God...you're huge!" he exclaimed.

I wrapped him in my arms and forced my tongue into his mouth.  He quickly
melted into me.

"Hold these," I said, handing him our shirts after freeing him from my
kiss, "There's one more lift I want to show you."

He took them from me and, before he had a chance to process what happened
next, I hoisted him up over my shoulder, his laughter ringing out like a
school boy's.  I carefully maneuvered him through the door and the narrow
utility room into the kitchen.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked through his laughter.

"To get naked," I flatly replied as I carried him on into my bedroom.

Once there I set him down and stepped back, both our hard-ons raging
unapologetically in our trousers.

"Now...get naked!" I mock ordered him.

"I will if you will!" he excitedly responded.

He flung the shirts onto the chair by my dresser and we both quickly undid
our pants.  I caught a glimpse of his balls as he turned his back to me and
shucked his off over his feet one leg at a time.  They were impressive.
When he turned to face me he was sporting something between six and seven
inches of thick hard dick beneath his modest but handsomely rounded belly.

My pants and underwear were bunched around my ankles still as he studied my
otherwise nude form.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed as he reached out and wrapped a hand around my hard
cock, "Everything about you is bigger than me!"

"You can still back out at this point if you want," I said.

"Not a chance!" he quickly shot back.

"Then give me your shoulder," I said, steadying myself on him as I freed my
feet from the garments that ensnared them.

"Kiss me again!" he enthused as he stepped forward and pressed his belly to
mine until our cock heads touched.

I placed one hand on the back of his head and stuffed his open mouth on my
tongue as I slipped my other arm around his back.  No real maneuvering was
necessary since we were identical in height.  I held him in my kiss until I
was no longer aware of the lingering taste of beer on our tongues.

"Wow!" he exclaimed as I released him, "I've never been kissed by a man
before tonight.  It gets me so hard!"

"Never?  Could've fooled me," I said as I dove in for seconds.

He threw his arms around my neck as I squeezed his body to mine and drilled
his mouth on my tongue once more.  I felt his tongue start battling mine
for position and backed it out to let him probe my mouth a while.  The feel
of his densely muscled body against mine as he freely explored my orifice
was intoxicating.  He released me and looked confidently into my eyes to
read my reaction.

"You're a quick study," I said with a smile as I reached down and squeezed
our dicks together, gently stroking them, "but maybe it's time you leveled
with me completely.  You say no man has kissed you before tonight.  Has one
ever fucked your ass?"

"No, sir," he said displaying deference to my slight age advantage, "still
got its cherry...but I know without a doubt that I want you to take it."

"Had another man's dick in your mouth before?" I asked.

"No, sir," he said, replacing my hand with his around our hard-ons, "but I
promise to suck yours till you come."

"And swallow what I give you?" I asked.

A brief pause ensued before he nodded his head and said, "Yes, sir."

I smiled as I sank my fingers into his thick pecs and ran my thumbs over
his erect nipples, "You're about to find out that's a lot easier said than
done, pal...and I'm going to hold you to it."

"Yes, sir," he said.

"But I promise it gets easier after the first time," I assured him.

"I trust you," he replied.

"Good," I said as I released him and fetched an old, well-worn store bought
quilt to throw on the bed.

"What's that for?" he asked.

"To catch the cum spills," I said spreading it out.

Unlike Luther's mine was only a full-sized bed but, as we stretched out on
it next to each other, we found that it afforded us adequate room.  I
rolled onto my side facing him, partially pinning him with my belly as my
leaky hard-on flopped onto his thigh.  I ran a calloused hand over his
fleshy pectoral mounds and began playing with his handsome nipples again.

"One more bit of truth telling before we get this underway," I said.

"Yes, sir," came his reply.

"What have you done with another man?" I asked.

"I don't think he counts as a man now that I'm here with you," he
confessed, "There was a boy at school this year who liked to suck me off
and get his ass fucked when I'd come home from the gym...I get these huge
hard-ons after a workout."

I laughed as I slid my hand down his belly and tenderly stroked his
beautiful cock, "We all do.  It's one of the great pleasures of lifting to
me.  Fifteen minutes after I'm done it's like all the blood I've pumped
into my muscles rushes out and heads straight for my prick."

He joined in my laughter as he laid his hand on my dick and began smearing
my pre-cum around on my cock head with his thumb, "That's good to know...I
thought maybe it was just me!"

"No-o-o-o!" I assured him, "And the heavier you lift the worse it
gets...or...well...the better it gets, I guess...depending on whether or
not you like having a rock hard dick to play with in the shower."

"I love it!" he exclaimed as he leaned up and pecked my lips with a dry
kiss, "May I suck you?"

"Such a well-mannered young man!" I said with a laugh as I let go of his
cock and rolled far enough back on my elbow and hip to free him from my
belly.

With my legs spread to invite him in I pressed my pad down to show him my
full length, "I reckon it's about time you found out what a mouthful of
dick is like.  Be careful not to make me come, though.  I want that to go
in your ass."

He scrambled up onto his knees beside me and slowly stroked my meat from
the base to the head.

"Just look at that thing!" he gushed as he depressed his own modest pad and
touched the slightly smaller head of his cock to mine, "How big is it?
Ever measured it?"

"Well, yes and no," I teased, bringing a confused expression to his face,
"I have a fuck buddy and we measured each other just for grins one night,
so I guess technically the answer is no...but, yes, in that I trusted his
measurements."

"So what did he get?" he pressed me.

"Seven and a half inches long by five and three-quarters around," I said.

"Look how much bigger it is than mine," he boyishly marveled, "Would you
measure me?"

"This isn't a competition, Glen.  I guarantee that you've got more than
I'll be able to fit in my mouth.  I call that big," I said running my hand
up his length.

"Please?" he asked.

"Alright...if you insist.  I think I've got a tape measure around here
somewhere.  Be right back," I said and went to rummage the catch-all drawer
in my kitchen.

I returned with it and rejoined him on the bed.  He anxiously aimed his
dick at me.

"Let go of it," I instructed him.

He quickly obeyed and let me stretch the tape as far back into his pad as I
could get it.

"Right at six and three-quarters long," I reported, allowing him to confirm
it, "Now let me find the thickest part of your shaft."

He expectantly watched me locate it and then stretch the tape around it.

"Well?" he asked.

"Just over five and a quarter," I said, once again giving him a chance to
verify my finding.

"Wonder where that puts me?" he asked trying to give meaning to the
numbers.

"Now that I can't tell you.  I'm no statistician.  What I can tell you is
that it's big enough that I get hard looking at you," I said giving his
hair a ruffle.

"Really?" he said looking proud.

Positioning myself as before with my full length exposed, I waggled my
raging hard dick at him and asked, "Does this answer your question?"

"Sure does!" he beamed as he got on all fours at my lap and slid his lips
over my cock head.

He gently nursed on it and sighed with satisfaction.

"Show me how much you can fit in your mouth," I encouraged him, "Bob your
head up and down and take a little more each time.  When it feels like you
might gag, stop."

He set about following my instruction, but with no suction.

"Be sure to suck on it...just remember...not too hard," I told him.

I felt his suction start tightening up and told him when it felt just
right.  He resumed bobbing again and came to a stop just as I heard his
throat sound out the first hint of gagging on me.

"Okay, hold right there and let your saliva coat it," I coached him.

He moaned some more as he took to the feel of my cock filling his mouth.
Instinctively he took my balls in one hand and began tugging on them.

"Oh-h-h-h...very good...play with my balls," I said.

He responded to my encouragement by replacing my hand with his free one at
the base of my dick.  I quickly sank my fingers in his hair, gently
massaging his scalp as he sucked me and telling him what a good job he was
doing.

Soon he resumed the bobbing motion yet again, eliciting a deep growl from
me.  He got a little excited by my display of approval and began working my
tool with increased vigor.  In my stimulated condition I felt my balls
start to draw up almost immediately.

"Stop!  Stop!" I cautioned him, "Any more and you'll make me come."

He came up off my dick looking very proud of himself.

"Well?  How did you like sucking a man's cock?" I asked.

"I sure loved sucking yours.  It felt good to make you feel good," he said
sounding confident.

"That's exactly how it should feel...and for that exact reason.  Like I
said, you're a quick study," I bragged on him.

"You going to fuck me now?" he asked.

"Yes, I am," I said as I got off the bed, "Lie on your stomach in the
middle of the bed."

He followed my order as I fished my new tube of K-Y out of the nightstand.
I sat beside him and gazed down at his prize winning glutes, so round, firm
and muscular.  Laying the K-Y down on the bed beside me I dug into them
with both hands.  He sighed and flexed them.  It felt like running my hands
over two big, smooth, round river stones.  My hard-on flexed a few times
between my legs as I imagined the pink, virgin pucker they hid from view.

From there I ran my hands up onto his broad, strong back and massaged his
lats.  Another contented sigh floated out of him.  I then slid my hands up
onto his mounded traps and firmly kneaded them.

"Your hands are rough," he observed, "but they sure know what to do."

"Yours will get that way, too, if you start doing battle with a knurled
sleeve instead of those soft, plastic handlebar grips," I told him, "You
know, Glen, you're a big, strong looking guy as you are...you need to think
very carefully about following in my footsteps.  There are drawbacks to
being my size."

"I will," he said, "but I'm pretty sure."

He giggled as I gently pried his crack open with one hand and squeezed a
big glob of K-Y onto his exposed pucker with the other.  Its beauty
exceeded my imagination and he looked so cute as he shivered from the
coolness of the gel.

"What is that?" he asked.

"It's a lubricant...to keep you comfortable.  I want you to enjoy having me
in you," I said.

"Oh...I always just used spit when I fucked that boy," he reported.

"That's the way my fuck buddy and I do it, too," I said, "We like it that
way, but it doesn't last very long and it can get pretty painful."

I began massaging it into him starting with my middle finger.  Then, to
stretch him a little more, I switched to my thumb.  He was responding
exactly as I had hoped, completely unashamed to enjoy what I was doing to
him.

Next I switched to my combined index and middle fingers to stretch him just
a little more.  He tensed up a bit at first but soon relaxed and gave me
free rein to prepare him for what was going into it next.

"Put your legs together," I instructed him, "It makes more room for my dick
to move in you."

Again he complied and I straddled his butt with the head of my hard-on
lying in the glistening furrow of his crack.  I squeezed a healthy glob of
K-Y onto my cock head and smeared it around.  Next I ran a large bead down
the middle of my shaft and thoroughly coated it as well.

I pushed my cock head down between his slick glutes and placed my other
hand on the bed just below his left armpit.  Bracing myself on it, I raised
my hips until my dick was perpendicular between us with the head firmly
buried in his crack.

With my free hand I swiped my glans up and down the length of his cleft to
stimulate him and finally placed it on his pucker.  He shivered.

"Feels good," he sighed.

"Bear down on your hole to let me in," I advised and then gently pressed
for entry.

I felt his well-prepared sphincter helplessly yield to my hardness.

"Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h!!!" he groaned as I penetrated him.

"You okay?" I checked in.

"Yes," he said, and then after a short pause, "It just feels even bigger
than it looked."

"That's the thing I have no control over," I instructed him, "There's no
way to keep it from hurting until I get you formed to it.  But how much is
going to depend entirely on you.  Try to help it in."

"I'll do...OH-H-H!...my...OH-H-H!...best...OH-H-H-H-H-H!!!!!!!" he bravely
promised.

I pressed a palm to his wide back and massaged him as I finished pushing
about half way into him.  He flinched under me and continued singing out
from the stabbing pain.

"We're almost there," I informed him, "Hang in with me.  You feel great!"

"Yes, sir," he whimpered.

I slowly eased on down until my balls came to rest on the backs of his
thighs, bringing another sustained groan from him.

"It's in," I told him as I ran my hand over his back to relax him.

I let my belly rest in the small of his back and gently pumped into him a
few times.  His hole tightened up on me and each gentle thrust pushed
another short, pained grunt out of him.

"You're a very tight fit," I cautioned him, "so remember to bear
down...give in to me.  The more you resist the more it hurts."

"Yes, sir," he said.

When I felt his hole relax I started gently pumping it again.  It clamped
down on me a couple of times before he got the hang of it, but suddenly my
cock began to enjoy a freedom of movement that sent chills up my spine.

"Good man!" I praised him.

He groaned again, but it was the sound of satisfaction rather than pain I
heard in it.  I gradually lengthened my stroke until I was utilizing the
entire portion of my shaft that I could reach up into him with.

"Big...so...big," he panted as I slowly began working up a rhythm.

"Stay with me, now," I coached him, "I'll have you formed to me in a minute
and when that happens you won't believe how good it feels.  Just keep
bearing down."

"I will...I will," he whimpered again.

I pressed on for a rhythm that would reward me without unduly punishing
him.  At last I heard him growl and he soon started lifting his butt to
greet my down strokes.  He was obviously beginning to hunger for the
sensory reward of what I fed through his wonderfully tight ring.

"Oh-h-h-h, Y-E-A-H!" he cried out.

His butt was mine at last and I carefully maintained the rhythm I'd settled
into to keep him singing.  I could feel my balls tightening up and knew it
wouldn't be long before I creamed him.

He felt so incredibly good on my cock that I thought momentarily about
fucking through it and letting his insanely tight chute stimulate me to a
second load.  But the clock on my nightstand showed it was already well
past midnight, and I decided against giving him more than he was prepared
to receive with it being his first time.

So I continued working him on me and staving off my impending orgasm as
long as I could before finally crashing my substantial weight down onto his
meaty ass to flood it with my sperm.  I growled as I ground my loins
against him, my cock flexing like crazy in the velvety warmth of his aching
bowels.

I reached up and grabbed hold of his meaty traps, pulling him back against
me as hard as I dared.  A lusty moan escaped him as he ground his ass to my
loins for the last three or four spurts of my deposit.

Once my orgasm had completely subsided I rolled off him by his side and ran
my hand over his motionless back, praising him for the job he'd done as the
remnants of my load dripped onto the quilt.  He turned his cherubic face to
me with his head still resting on his folded arms and smiled with a glow of
contentment that made me swell with pride.

"You're amazing!" he cooed as he reached out and ran a hand over my chest
and belly.

"You, too," I confirmed while gently massaging his butt cheeks.

He then rolled onto his side facing me and revealed the ultra-hard
condition of his cock.

"Looks like somebody enjoyed himself," I teased as I wrapped my hand around
it and gave it a firm tug.

He blushed and then spied the puddles of cum he'd spent during our fuck
when I let go of it.

"I didn't realize you were making me come while you fucked me," he marveled
as he scooped some onto his fingers and tasted it.

To his surprise I scooped up a bit of his and mixed it with what was still
leaking from me and tasted it as well.

"Mmmmmm...more!" I said as I pushed him over onto his back and hunkered
down over his straining erection, taking as much as I could into my mouth.

He watched with glee as I pressed down into his pad to give him a good view
of his full length and began pounding my gullet on his cock head.  I made a
deliberate show for him of the portion of him I was unable to accommodate
in my mouth.

It was less than two minutes before he took my head in both of his hands
and succumbed to a loud, soul-stirring orgasm.  The look on his face was
priceless as I showed him my tongue swimming in his sizeable load and then
proudly gulped it down.

I greedily licked my lips and then exclaimed, "Ah-h-h-h-h-h!  Good stuff!"

"You look like you really enjoy that," he said, unable to disguise his
pride.

"I do," I assured him as I raised up and patted my belly, "I love taking
the essence of a man down here where I know it'll stay put for a while."

"Never had a blow job like that!  You're just amazing!" he beamed once
again.

"So are you.  Do me a favor and stay put.  I'll be right back." I said as I
went to my bathroom and got two wash rags.

I walked back into my bedroom still cleaning his ass juice off my half hard
cock with one and pitched the other to him as I said, "Go to the bathroom
and empty my load into the toilet.  You can jam that between your cheeks to
keep from leaking on the way."

He rolled off the bed and saw what had already leaked from his ass while I
blew him.

"Wow!" he said as he dutifully stuffed his crack with the rag and awkwardly
waddled off to my lone bathroom.

When he returned I had the cum-catcher quilt folded up on the floor and the
bed turned down.

"Should I be going?" he asked.

"Only if you want to," I replied, "Otherwise the bed's shown it can hold us
both so you're welcome to stay.  We'll both be hard and reloaded in the
morning.  Then we can eat a big breakfast and go see how much free weight
you can handle."

He lit up and said, "Thanks!  That sounds great!"

"Glen, you probably won't be able to push as much as you might think.  Two
hundred fifty pounds of free weight is a totally different game than the
same amount on a machine.  Promise me you won't get discouraged," I
cautioned him.

"I promise," he replied, "and I promise to be a good student."

"Alright, then hop in," I said pointing at the bed.

He immediately obeyed as I walked around to the other side and stretched
out next to him.

He rolled onto his side facing me and began running his hand over my
substantial paunch, "I love this thing...I want one!  Mind if I ask how
much you weigh?"

"278," I replied without hesitating, "You?"

"241," he countered as he continued caressing it, "I figure you've got to
be the strongest slab of man I've ever met!  How big do you plan to get?"

"Well," I began and then thought carefully about how to explain myself to
him, "size isn't really my primary goal.  I'm perfectly comfortable being
this big...and I'm certainly not afraid of getting even bigger...but my
real motivation is strength.  My size is just a natural by-product of that.
Every day my one goal is to lift more than I did the day before...whether I
manage to or not.  I guess I'll get as big as I have to get to be as strong
as I can possibly be, given that I have to work full time, too."

"I get you," he said, seeming to assess his own goals as he processed my
reply, "You know, getting fucked by a man like you is the biggest thrill
I've ever had.  It was so different than I imagined it would be."

"How so?" I asked, tucking him under my arm and stroking his back.

He rested his head on my chest and alternately fondled my belly and my cock
and balls, then eventually said, "You're just such a brute of a man, but
you were...so...considerate...gentle with me.  I didn't expect that."

He then ran his hand up over my chest to my right trap and began sinking
his fingers into it as he said, "And I didn't expect to feel this...good
about myself...for letting you fuck me.  I wish I could fuck that boy one
more time.  I'd make it so different for him now."

"You were rough on him?" I asked.

"He loves muscle...and I didn't really try to make it rough, I guess...but
for sure I only thought about my own pleasure...never a thought for
his...maybe like his willingness to eat my loads and take my dick up his
ass made him inferior to me or something.  I lied to him...told him I liked
girls and that I was just doing him because they didn't like getting
buttfucked.  I let him leave for home believing that," he confided.

"Look...I'm sure he got what he wanted if he came back for more," I said as
I hugged him to me, "but I agree that's no way to treat another person.  I
believe that a real man has no need to make another man feel like less of
one in order for him to feel like more of one."

"Lesson learned," he said as he began sucking and chewing on my left
nipple, then raised his head, "Can I do a bit more truth telling?"

"Sure," I replied.

"Tonight wasn't my first time at Eighty Eights," he began, "I've been there
twice before...looking for you."

"Have we met?" I asked after a pause, feeling a little bewildered.

"No, sir," he said in a respectful tone.

"Then why would you be looking for me?" I asked.

"That boy I've been telling you about," he said and halted, "you've fucked
him, too...you and your friend...he called you his bulls."

"Yes...as a matter of fact he did," I said, not quite sure how to feel, "Go
on."

"When he described you to me...how big and round and strong you
were...lifting him out of the water and pressing him over your head so many
times...he got me so hard...I just had to see you...even meet you, if I
could," he confided, "I knew who you were the minute I set eyes on
you...his description was perfect.  I've thought my whole life that I was
alone in my love of size...strength...and...men who possess it."

"And now?" I asked as I hugged him against me.

"Now I know better," he said as he ran his hand back down onto my chest to
play with my nipple, "I guess Damian's story got me a little jealous.  You
sounded like everything I've always wanted to be...and...exactly what I've
always secretly wished I could be with...but talked myself into believing I
could never have...and yet he found it."

After a lengthy pause to process his confession I planted a kiss on the top
of his head and said, "Then I'm glad you found me."

"You're not mad?" he asked.

"No," I confirmed, "In fact, I understand.  You see, I felt alone in the
exact same way up until just a few months ago...when I met the friend you
spoke of...my fuck buddy.  So it turns out we're both fairly new to this
experience.  Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

"No, sir," he said as he sank into me.

"Then let's get some rest," I said, "I'm going to work you on those weights
tomorrow till every cubic inch of you begs for mercy."

"I'm ready...I think," he replied with a nervous laugh.

I turned out the lamp and then pulled the sheet up over us, tucking him
snugly under my arm.  I knew the security he felt as he pressed himself to
me, remembering how I felt the first time Luther held me that way, and was
glad that I could provide him with it.

"I feel so small next to you," he sighed as he draped an arm across my
belly, "Thank you for tonight."

"You're welcome," I replied, "It was pretty special for me, too."

We continued lying together like that in silence until we drifted off to
sleep.