Date: Mon, 28 Jun 1999 12:02:37 PDT
From: Scott Walker <scottw83@hotmail.com>
Subject: "Who's The Man?"

Who's The Man?
By Scott  Walker

	I was really getting sick hearing the stories about this new punk at our
rival school; how he put two guys in the hospital; spent six months in Juvey
doing nothing but lifting weights and getting his rocks off. I was sick
about hearing how he was benching 300, curling 120 for sets and squatting
over 350 and he'd just turned 16. I was sure this was bullshit. Everyone
knew I was the one to be reckoned with in this town. Me, 'Big Ben' Sanders,
Mr. Teen State 17 years and under. I am benching over 300 for reps, curling
125 and squatting almost 400. I just got my arms up to 17 inches and my
chest to 45. No fuckin' new kid's gonna top that.
	One Saturday I happened to run into this punk at the gym. It took four big
guys to keep us apart. Later, when we'd both cooled down we agreed to meet
the next day. Just us, no one else to take sides or interfere. I had a key
to the school weight room so we set a time.
	On Sunday I arrived at school about 30 minutes early. All right, so I
cheated a bit. I loaded the bar to 250 lbs. and popped off a few sets. I
didn't wanna do more without a spotter, I just wanted to pump up. As I
benched I felt my chest expand and thicken. I removed my sweatshirt and
checked myself out. Shit, was I huge! I crunched my pecs together making
them dance at my will. This drives the girls crazy. I placed my hand under
each one and felt their thickness and mass. I pinched my nipples to make
sure that the image I was seeing was real. I grabbed a pair of 50 pound
dumbbells and popped off so many curls I lost count. I saw my arms pump up,
the veins prominent, the peak incredible. I stared straight into the mirror
and flexed my right arm. It popped up like a mountain on my arm, peaked and
solid. I ran my left hand over it, feeling its power and size. I then hit a
double biceps pose, the one which won me Mr. Teen State. I kissed each
mound, winked at my reflection and moved on to legs. I made my calves bulge
and my thighs scream for mercy. I did countless sit-ups and checked out the
slabs of brick on my stomach. Shit, I looked awesome! That punk doesn't
stand a chance. I noticed the time, donned my sweatshirt and headed for the
door.
	He was there, right on time. We nodded curtly to each other and I led him
into the mat room next door.  The punk was a bit shorter than me but filled
out his sweats quite well. Both of us were raring to go so I figured I'd try
to take an early advantage. This was my school, my territory and this punk
better fuckin' well not forget it.
	"So, you think you're tough, asshole?" I said to egg him on.
	The punk looked me up and down and sneered. "I bet I'd have no trouble
takin' you on, fuckhead." He strode up to me and shoved me. I didn't move.
He shoved again, harder. I still didn't move. I shoved him and sent him
sprawling on his ass. While he scrambled to his feet I ripped off my
sweatshirt,  hit a double biceps and stared smugly at him.
	"Think that scares me?" he said as he removed his own sweatshirt and hit
the same pose. "Check this out."  I hated to admit it, but the punk looked
almost as big as me. His abs weren't as defined and he wasn't 'cut' like
me, but he had a lot of mass. Still staring straight at him I kicked off my
sneakers and unfastened my tearaways. I stood before him in nothing but a
pair of posing trunks. I hit a most muscular pose. Muscles popped and veins
bulged from my neck to my calves. I was pumped, ready for action. My
opponent did the same but was not as practiced as I. We approached each
other and locked up. Both of us had our hands behind the other's neck. We
both started to force the other's head downward. I was able to gain leverage
and got him in a headlock. I squeezed my 17 inch arms against his neck,
stopping short of choking him.  His face was crimson and he tried elbowing
me in the stomach. My abs deflected the blows and I just laughed it off.
This made him angrier as I slowly tightened my hold.
	"Who's the man now?" I asked as he continued to struggle. I added more
pressure and started to force his head down. All this testosterone had made
my cock rock-hard. The head was poking out of the trunks and leaking
pre-cum.
	"No--no," he eeked as I forced his head farther down. When his face was at
my crotch level, I eased the hold just a bit. A giant shiver came over me as
his tongue gently make contact with my piss-slit. By the time the entire
mushroom head was in his mouth, I came. All over his face, his mouth and the
mat. I released him, sneered, and flexed my 17 inchers in triumph.
	"I'm the man," I said. "I'm the fuckin' man."


	My opponent was not going to take his defeat lightly. He lay face down on
the mat, propped up his right elbow and wiggled his fingers.
	"Let's see," he said, still out of breath
	Shit, the guy was a glutton for punishment, I thought. I laid on the mat
facing him and clasped hands. Both were rough and calloused as we struggled
for the right grip. When we were ready, I said "Go".
	I quickly got the upper hand, but my opponent soon rallied. We strained
against one another for several minutes, neither one budging. Two 17 year
old muscleboys refusing to yield an inch. I noticed both our arms pumped to
the match. His was about the same size as mine and looked peaked and
inviting as the sweat poured off it. I swear I could practically see his
biceps pump up from the strain. I was straining too and laying flat on the
mat did nothing to alliviate the raging hard-on pressed against my abs. I
glanced down at my opponents sweating, peaked pumped 17 inch bicep. A slight
smile came over him and with what seemed like an extra inner strength, he
began to get the upper hand. I poured on extra power as well but by now he
had me. I was able to keep my arm steady for a few more seconds before he
was finally able to pin me. The punk jumped to his feet, flexed his 17
inchers proudly and started dancing like Rocky on the courthouse steps.
	"Who's the fuckin' man now, huh?"
	As I sat up I noticed that his shorts were now tenting, a wet spot of
pre-cum in front. I remembered that he hadn't cum yet and probably couldn't
hold off much longer. He pulled down his trunks and jock, waving his
musclemeat in front of my face. A drop of pre-cum hit my cheek. I figured; I
could just get up, walk out and he and I could settle this with an all-out
brawl outside or; I could honor our deal. He must of gotten his cock sucked
dozens of time in Juvey, but never, I bet by a State Champion. He began
moaning with approval as I ran my mouth up and down his shaft. This was my
first time as a cocksucker but, as with everything, I gave it my all. I must
have been doing allright because he started thrusting his cock in and out of
my mouth while I grabbed onto his legs for leverage. He flexed his calves
and a bicep-size bulge appeared. I ran my hands over it, feeling the size. I
then ran my hands up to his thighs which he also flexed. They were thick and
striated. My legs were never my best body part and this punk had his
developed to the max. His abs weren't as defined as mine but he moaned as I
pinched his right nipple. The harder I pinched, the more he loved it. Shit,
this kid was tough. I next moved my left hand up to his arm which he
promptly flexed. It felt incredible to be running my rough, iron-hardened
hand over a bicep as big as my own. Now I knew how the other guys felt.
	"Feel that, asshole" he said as he flexed and unflexed his 17 inch bi.
"Feel my power."
	By now I wasn't only feeling his power with my mouth and left hand, I was
feeling my own as I pumped myself silly with the right. My right forearm was
getting as good a workout as my mouth muscles. I pinched his left nipple
harder and brought him to the edge of ecstasy. With a loud moan, he shot. I
missed most of it but lapped up what I could. I came again, this time all
over that bulging calf and the mat. We were both breathing heavily as we
cleaned up the spilled seed.  I figured I should at least know this kid's
name.
	"Eddie"
	"I'm Ben." Wow, that was hot," I said, "cumming twice in 15 minutes."
	"I only came once," my opponent said. "You owe me."
	"Sure," I said, still out of breath, "how 'bout a rematch next week?"
	"Yeah, but how 'bout this time we each bring a friend?" He smiled at the
suggestion.
	I hated to admit it, but I was starting to like this guy.


	Hope you enjoyed this latest installment. If you have any comments or
suggestions you can e-mail at scottw83@hotmail.com