Date: Mon, 1 Feb 2016 12:14:39 +0000 (UTC)
From: Boyatt Hart <boyatthart@yahoo.com>
Subject: Two Bulls for Damian ch 2 (Revised)

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TWO BULLS FOR DAMIAN

by Boyatt Hart


Chapter 2: The Grand Idea

At the six month milestone of my new job Luther and I were both enjoying
the side benefits immensely.  The experience he brought to the table, even
though it was heterosexual in nature, made him a mentor in my eyes.  His
manner and demeanor while fucking me was my only template so of course my
sexual 'form' grew to be the spitting image of his.

No doubt this helped him feel at ease with me for the most part.  His only
hurdle, really, was working through the stigma that had been imprinted on
him by society of man-on-man sex.  Even though he desired it as much as I
did, that stigma held him back somewhat in the early encounters that
followed our heated introduction to it.

I on the other hand, once I actually got to hold another man's cock in my
hands, taste it in my mouth and feel it pumping my ass, never looked back
in fear that there was anything wrong with our form of intimate physical
expression.  For example, after that first experience of gagging a bit at
the thought of having another man's seed on my tongue and forcing myself to
swallow what his cock had pumped into my mouth, I quickly developed quite a
taste for his distinctive flavor. He, however, had a little more to
overcome having spent close to 30 years as the one always making the
deposit and never even thinking about the experience of being on the
receiving end of it.

But six months in everything was rolling along fine and he found our sex
very casual and recreational; a chance to "rassle around" with another big
man with a pretty big dick whose animal instincts set him free for the
first time in his life from having to worry that his own were too crude to
be indulged.  I had swallowed quite a few of his copious, potent loads
already before he at last silently resolved to take mine.

Taking my dick up his big meaty butt wasn't nearly the challenge to his
self-esteem that taking it in his mouth was in the early going.  But he
adapted to that, coming around to even letting me cum in his mouth instead
of finishing me off with one of his meaty paws...as long as he had a hand
towel at the ready to spit it into.

Then it finally happened.  I'll never forget how boyishly cute this burly
bull of a man old enough to have fathered me looked as he blushed beet-red
the first time he lifted his face far enough above my belly to show me my
load on his tongue then screw up the courage to swallow it.  I took his
round face in my hands with a sense of authority that I had never felt
before and fucked his mouth on my tongue as he had done to me on our first
night.

It was one thing to taste my cum from my hand, as I eventually came to
realize every gay man in the world before me had done, but to taste it in
the mouth of the man I admired more than any other man on earth at that
time was emboldening beyond my wildest dreams.  I felt as though it was his
signal to me that in his fatherly crow's-feet-crinkled eyes I was every bit
the man he was.  He never struggled the slightest with it again that I
could tell and the intensity of our sex play only skyrocketed afterward.
We never really spoke of such things but I think that, in my quickly
developed freedom to take his loads without losing my own sense of
masculinity, he might have seen me as something of a mentor, too.

What we did discuss openly after that momentous occasion were more creative
ways to achieve orgasm with each other.  Fucking each other's ass went from
strictly doggy position to fucking missionary so we could see and read each
other's faces.  And missionary led to us sitting on each other's dick while
the rider fucked his hard-on up between our bellies, the rider's convulsive
orgasm frequently triggering the fucker's with a torrent of climactic
cock-strangling clenches of his sphincter.  Riding cock came to include
riding reverse cowboy to let the fucker enjoy the view of the rider's
tautly stretched asshole sliding up and down over his dick.  Sucking cock
led to offering up each other's mouth for the other to enjoy as another
fuck hole. The taking of each other's loads became cause for celebratory
ball sucking.  Ball sucking in turn became a means of helping each other
achieve erection when needed.  We found ourselves behaving like boys at a
sleepover as our newfound sense of freedom took hold.

"How big is that damn dick of yours, sport?" he once asked me after I'd
fucked his ass.

"I dunno, how big is *this* thing?" I countered wrapping my hand around his
hooded Hercules of a member, swollen so hard it was a deep crimson in
color.

"I dunno," he said with a grin, "Wanna measure 'em?"

"Why not?" I fairly giggled, "Let's do it."

"I'll bet Jean left a tape measure around here somewhere as quick as she
hightailed it," he said grinning ear-to-ear as he scampered off with his
huge, bloated daddy dong waggling out in front of him.

By the time he got back I was only half hard so I went first and put the
tape to the top side of his engorged cock.  I pressed back into his
surprisingly modest pubic pad and it came up 8 and 5/8 inches long with 6
and 13/16 inches of girth at the fattest part of his shaft.  To his
disappointment I was continuing to deflate.

"Open your mouth," he instructed me.

I obeyed and he stuffed it with his throbbing hard-on, skillfully fucking
the fat head of it against my gullet without making me gag on him.  Long
before he deposited his creamy load in me I was harder than diamonds again.

"Hand me the tape," he said with a smug look of accomplishment.

He put the tape to the top side of mine, pressing back as I had done him,
then felt along my shaft for the thickest part and stretched the tape
again.

"7 and 3/8 by 5 and 3/4!" he announced, his great belly shaking in laughter
as he exclaimed, "This must be Kip's!"

"What?" I asked looking totally confused I'm sure.

"I say this must be Kip's 'cause it looks to me that we're serving up Big
Boys here!" he explained in continued laughter.

His joviality was so infectious that I couldn't resist laughing with him.
It was silly childishness, two grown men measuring each other's cock.  But
even acknowledging that, he still made me swell with pride as he leaned
over me on the bed, wiped his butt juice off my hard-on with a damp wash
rag and proceeded to stuff it in his mouth to the point of purposely
gagging himself on me.

He reeled up off of me and nonchalantly wiped a trail of his saliva from
his chin on one of his thick forearms.

"Ever wonder what it would be like to get some dick hound in the bed with
us and stuff him at both ends?  I sure do!" he confessed, gently stroking
my cock as it loomed up in his face, "I bet you're a sight to behold
fucking somebody with a dick like this and all that muscle to drive it home
with!"

Immediately I found myself with a mental image of him at the other end of
our imaginary 'guest'; over 300 hulking pounds of fantasy man in my eyes
working the guy into a state of ecstasy with more than 8 1/2 inches of dick
fatter than anything I'd ever even imagined on a man, not to mention those
huge, low hanging balls he'd been slapping my face and ass with for the
last six months.  My hard cock twitched in his face at the thought.

"You like the idea, I can tell.  Admit it, sport!" he said in mock
accusation.

"You knew I would, you big horny bastard," I said with a grin as I put my
hands on both sides of his giant, round head and guided his smiling mouth
back onto my hard, pulsing meat.

He easily broke free and pulled off me again with a wink and a smile then
dove back down on it.

It didn't take too long for the sight of the big brute noisily sucking my
rock hard dick to make me give up another load from my aching balls.

He showed it to me on his tongue then gulped it down as he thumped my rigid
cock on my belly and said, "There you go, sport!  One good head job
deserves another."

He slid up beside me on his bed at which point I pinned him beneath me and
gave his mouth a hard tongue fucking.

"Where could we find somebody like that?" he asked when I let him up for
air, "Somebody game to take us both on?"

I mulled the question over for a few minutes.

"A guy at one of the disco palaces once told me about a piano bar on Haven
Rd called Old Eighty Eights where young guys who like older men go to
score.  With you as bait...," I trailed off.

"Me?" he asked in all seriousness, "What would anybody see in a fat old
gorilla like me that would make them want to follow me home?"

I wrapped my hand as far as I could around his cock and massive balls and
gave them a solid jiggle as I said, "Turn your chair out where anybody who
cares to look can see what you keep stuffed down your right trouser leg,
big fella!  You'll probably be able to take your pick and have to turn the
rest away."

"I just figured a younger, good looking guy like you would have better
luck," he said reaching down below his magnificent belly and placing his
big hand over mine.

"Think again," I countered, gently massaging his bulky package, "Where do
you think I was screwing up the courage to go before you found me?"

"Yep," he said and paused, "That's the thing...screwing up the courage to
go.  I've never set foot in one of them places before.  What if somebody
from work sees me?

"What would any of those guys be doing in a neighborhood like that?" I
asked.

"Good point," he replied pensively, then closed the conversation by saying,
"Let me sleep on it."

"Alright," I responded and started giving him a relaxing belly rub.

He sighed contentedly and hauled me up onto him.  His natural strength
never failed to awe me.  I could bench press something close to his body
weight but the thought of hefting his burly bulk around as he had just done
mine was as far-fetched in my mind as me suddenly speaking out in fluent
Russian.  I pressed my belly to his and started tweaking his gorgeous, dark
brown nipples.

"You've gained weight since we did this last," he observed.

"All thanks to you," I said in sincere gratitude.

"Me?  How so?" he inquired.

"I've been studying your eating habits," I informed him as he ground his
soft warm genitals against mine.

"What would you possibly learn from them other than how to eat more than
any one human being ever should?" he asked, wrapping his huge arms around
my back and hugging me to him.

"You really don't see how powerfully built you are, do you?" I asked.

"I guess it's fair to say that 'powerfully built' are not the words that
come to my mind when I see myself in the mirror," he confirmed, "especially
nude."

"Well, you are," I assured him, "Nature handed you almost everything I've
had to work like a dog to attain for the last sixteen years.  When I see
you naked I see a man with a naturally dense musculature; big, wide,
gloriously thick and round, thighs and calves most bodybuilders would kill
for...with a layer of fat, to be sure...but it's a sexy layer of fat that
boasts confidence...no sign of blubber to be found anywhere on you."

My cock began to stir at my confession of physical admiration for him.

"Go on," he said with a sly smile.

"So I've been watching how you eat; well, not how so much as what.  True
you eat inordinate amounts of food, but none of the calories you take in
are empty calories," I confessed further, "They're always foods high in
nutritional content.  So when you take us to all these incredible
all-you-can-eat buffets at lunch almost five days a week I've started
trying to eat what you eat, and as much of it as I can manage to pack in.
Then I go home and burn as much of it as I can lifting...keeping your image
fixed in my mind...as my goal."

He smiled and kissed me, our bellies making the feat more than a little
awkward.

"I had no idea," he replied.

"It's true," I confirmed.

"So how much have you gained?" he asked.

"This morning I weighed 265, so 14 pounds," I reported.

"But on you it shows up as 14 more pounds of muscle," he said releasing his
grasp on me and squeezing my shoulders in his big hands.

"Most of them did, but a few of them showed up as extra padding," I said
with a grin as I guided his hands back onto my beefier but noticeably
softer glutes.

"So they have!" he said, looking a bit aroused as he slicked a thick middle
finger in his mouth and proceeded to work it up my hole before continuing,
"But then I've never thought of you as having a bodybuilder's kind of
muscles. Never have figured out what would make a man want to grow titties
bigger than a woman's.  All I can think when I see titties like that is how
good it would feel to squeeze them to my dick and give 'em a good fuck."

I laughed out loud picturing some poor bodybuilder trapped between Luther's
powerful legs, face to face with the gaping meatus of that huge cock head
as it lunged out of its velvety hood from between the meaty pecs he was so
proud of, getting his chin hammered by it till it exploded all over his
face in one of the giant man's colossal spurting orgasms.

"What sort of lifts do you do?" he asked, grinning as he brought me back to
reality by wiggling his thick digit in my hole.

"Mostly strength building moves like bench press, military press, standing
rows, squats, power cleans...stuff like that.  Not all that many really.  I
just do as many repetitions as I can with the biggest weights I think I can
handle given that I've got nobody with me as a spotter," I explained as he
pulled his finger out of me and playfully touched it to the end of my nose
before groping around for the wash rag.

"What's the heaviest weight you lift?" he pressed on with almost boyish
curiosity.

"My last bench was 305 pounds...five reps," I told him.

He gave a long, slow whistle and sank his fingers admiringly into my arms
as he softly said, "Damn...that's nearly as much as I weigh."

"Yeah?  And how much is that?" I asked as I snuggled against his vast bulk.

I knew by my weight and his size advantage that he was over 300 and had
been dying to know by how much since meeting him, but never had a polite
way to solicit that information from him presented itself before.

"Well, I avoid the scale here since I'd probably just break it, but at my
last doctor visit they said 337 pounds," he said not sounding at all
self-conscious about it.

I slid down onto his powerful thighs with my belly resting on his meaty
cock and balls and pressed my lips to his magnificent globe shaped paunch
as I said, "Then I've got a lot more work ahead of me before I can drag you
up on top of me the way you just dragged me on top of you."

"Not a doubt in my mind you'll get there, sport!" he said as he ran his
thick fingers through my hair with one hand and gently stroked my beard
with his other, "You'll do it!"

That said, he rolled me off him as easy as you please and quickly straddled
my hips, resting his sagging balls on my hardening prick as he started
feeling me up.

He leaned forward, pressing his lightly but coarsely furred forearms every
bit as thick as my upper arms, on my mostly smooth chest and clenched my
thick traps in his strong hands.

"I love these!  The way they swallow your neck...," he trailed off, "Always
have thought that was one of the most manly attributes a guy can have."

I smiled as I ran my hands up his enormous arms to his wide shoulders and
gave them the hardest squeeze I could muster.

He feigned a pained grimace as he rolled off and back by my side saying,
"Fuck!  305 pounds!  No wonder your hands are so calloused!"

I reached over and squeezed his fat dick in one, "Too calloused for
comfort?"

He slid a huge paw over mine and smiled as he assured me, "Not at all,
sport.  You can bet he's a tough enough customer to handle that!"

"You know what I'd like to watch him handle the more I've thought about
it?" I queried.

"No, what?"

"That dick hound you were talking about," I goaded him.

His great belly shook with laughter as we snuggled down for some shut eye.

"Let me think on it some more, sport," he admonished, "let me think on it.
You never know...I just might go get us one."

And with that he reached out a thick arm and turned off his bed lamp.



(I hope you're enjoying yourself.  To be continued as time permits.)