Date: Tue, 30 Sep 1997 20:57:40 -0400 (EDT)
From: Bobaroo2@aol.com
Subject: My Fantasy Man

I was thinking about what my ultimate fantasy man would look like. He would
be tall, about 6'3".  Probably in his late 30's to early 40's.  He would have
black wavy hair, dark brown eyes, and skin that was somewhat tan.  Italian
looking I guess you may say.  His beard would be very thick, and about an
inch long.  High cheekbones and full lips covering straight white teeth.

Do you think that he would be at all muscular?  He would be a mountain of a
man, brawny as any bodybuilder that ever lived!  Not only would he have huge
size, but he would be sliced and striated.  No body fat beneath his
paper-thin skin.  His head would be set on a thick column of a neck that rose
above his broad shoulders.  The cannonballs that were his deltoids would cap
his enormous torso.  Beneath the delts would be his rugged pecs.  Huge mounds
of hard muscle jutting out proudly,  65 inches round.  The nipples would be
erect and large enough to poke through the thick, black hair that swirled
over his chest.  The hair would form a triangle beneath the pecs.   Flaring
out on either side would be the thick slabs of muscles of his traps.  His
torso would taper down to a tight waist, the abdominals forming a hard six
pack.  The serratus muscles of his side abs would be like etched granite.
 The tie-in between his arms and shoulders would be well-defined.  The beefy
arms would hang down, the horseshoe of his triceps bulging with power.  The
biceps and forearms would have veins coursing through them that would twitch
every time he moved his hands.  When his mighty arms are flexed, the peak of
his biceps would stetch the tape to 24 inches. Continuing back at his waist,
his thighs would be massive to support his heavy frame.  The muscles of his
quads would show distinctly.  His calves would be hard as the diamonds that
they are shaped like.  Thick and muscular.  His legs would have a network of
veins crisscrossing underneath the thin skin, pumping the blood needed to
sustain this incredible mass.  His cock would be well shaped, the circumcized
head swollen on the rigid shaft.  "Just" about 8.5 inches long, and thick.
 His balls would be large and heavy, hanging from a nest of black hair.

He wouldn't have to be particularly strong.  If he could only do 20-30 reps
on the benchpress with 6 45-pound plates on each side, over 560 pounds
including the bar, that's OK.  If he can only manage 3 sets of 15 reps of
concentration curls with 120 pound dumbbells  I won't complain.  If he gets a
little tired after doing 20 reps on the leg press machine with 1200 pounds on
it, I wouldn't kick his shoes away from my bed.  He would do one-arm rows
with a special 260-pound dumbbell to work on his back.  One arm tricep
extensions with 100 pounders would be child's play for him.  He'd spend about
half an hour doing crunches while holding a 120-pound dumbbell behind his
head.  Lateral raises with 180-pound dumbbells should work his broad
shoulders pretty well. 

He'd probably spend three to four hours a day in the gym, working out.  And
I'd want to spend every minute in there with him, watching him.  When he's
doing flyes, I would stand behind him so that I could see his massive, hairy
pecs get squeezed together as he brings the weights overhead.  Watching the
sweat trickle down the cleft between his chest muscles would be an extra
treat.  Lat pulldowns, t-bar  rowing, seeing his back muscles spring into
relief, my cock would be stirring in my shorts.  When he does pull ups I
would climb on and wrap my arms up around his armpits, holding onto his
Samson-like shoulders as he pulls us up, slowly lets us down, over and over
and over.  I'd sit on his lap while he was sitting at the leg extension
machine.  His whole body straining as he lifts up the entire 200 pound stack
with one leg at a time.  I'd watch his melon glutes and hamstrings flexing as
he lay down at the leg curl machine.  And  my cock would be stiff and hard,
because I would be thinking of riding that muscular ass.  When he does behind
the neck presses to broaden his rock hard shoulders, all the plates on the
bar would be clanking together as he presses the bar up and down with ease.
 His titantic triceps would spring into bold relief as he does pushdowns with
the cables.  And the final body part that he would work on would be my
favorite - his thick, cut biceps.  Standing barbell curls, preacher curls,
incline curls, concentration curls - my cock would be oozing pre-cum as I
watched his arms bulge and bunch up with every rep.  Sometimes when he did an
extra work out at home I would crouch between his legs and suck on his cock
while he pumped out the concentration curls.  His big biceps would be flexing
before my eyes, swelling up with every rep.  Each time it bulged up, I would
take the hard shaft of his cock down my throat.  But at the gym I would have
to control myself.

Sometimes we'd hit the showers before going home.  Many times we would be so
horny that we would race out in our sweaty workout clothes, the manly scent
from the exertion acting like a heady perfume.  Once home, I would slowly
approach him as he stood there like a statue of Hercules.  Some days I would
go slowly, pulling the shirt out from his shorts, easing it up over his wide
shoulders and arms, exposing the hairy chest, the ridges of his abs.  I'd
work his tight shorts down past his knees, past his calves, so that he could
step out of them.  I'd kneel before him, reaching up to the jock that held
his thickening cock and big balls.  Slowly I would free his hard on from the
jock, letting it bounce free in front of my face.  Other times the heat of
our passion would drive us to get naked as soon as we were in the door.
 Maybe he would be extra turned on by his own body because he was able to
increase the weight on his benchpress to 600 pounds.  He would grab the front
of his tee shirt and rip it down the front, exposing the brutal chest
muscles, the nipples hardening as he anticpated my mouth on them.  He'd grab
me and tear the shirt and shorts off of my body in his eagerness to get at my
own tight buns and hairy chest.  

But however his clothes came off, he would treat me to a long session of
sexy, hardcore muscle posing.  All the work he had done in the gym  would be
revealed for my admiration, worship, and reverence. He would revel in the
power and size of his own body.  No matter how many times I saw him show off,
each time would be more exciting than the last.  His dense, vascular arms
would be flexed over and over for me to feel, nuzzle, and lick.  When he
straightened his arms behind his back, the triceps would be striated and
huge.  His chest would swell up as he flexed it for me while I ran my hands
through the thick hair.  I would rub my face against those hairy manly pecs,
rubbing my beard around his nipples.  Turning his back to me, he would spread
his wings wide, the traps and back an enormous display of power.  Facing me
again, he'd squeeze and roll his abs, the six pack hard and unyielding to my
touch.  When he flexed his quads, the muscles would spring into distinct
relief, each vein and striation clearly visible.  Rising on his toes to flex
his calves, he would give a side chest pose to follow.  And all the time he
would have a wicked smile, knowing that he was great and I was enthralled by
him.  "Feel that muscle,"  he'd say.  "You saw me working hard for this body.
 I moved tons of steel today and for years before so I could get these
muscles.  WORSHIP THEM!"  My hands would be all over his body, feeling every
inch of his firm, bulging muscles.  "FEEL THE POWER!"  he'd command.  And I
would be moaning in ecstasy, acknowledging his superhuman form.  "Yes, yes,
my incredible musclestud.  No one else on earth is your match.  Please let me
feel your body.  Let me see you flex all night.  Big man.  Powerful man.  Let
me worship you!"  And he would flex with all his might in a most muscular
pose, then step closer and do it again, his monstrous arms around me, my face
close to his bearlike chest.

Maybe we would make it to the bedroom.  Often we wouldn't.  I would grab onto
his gargantuan biceps as he flexed them, and I'd pull myself up and wrap my
legs around his wasp-waist.  I'd hang on to those arms as we rubbed our
beards against each other, along our necks and faces.  He'd bend forward and
thrust his tongue into my mouth, kissing me hard.  Sometimes he'd hold me in
one arm as he jerked my cock with the free hand.  I'd be feeling his hairy
chest and baseball-sized biceps, safe and secure in his strong arms.  Other
times I would start with my mouth at the base of his neck and slowly, slowly
start moving my mouth down over his godlike body.  Down through the fur on
his chest, pausing to suck on one nipple, then moving across to the other.
 Continuing down past the ridges covering his stomach, til I was on my knees,
facing his rigid cock.  His hard on throbbing before me, I'd take his cock
into my mouth.  He'd be groaning as I tongued the shaft, slurping on his
manhood.  One of my hands would cup his balls, pulling on them slightly,
twisting them just a little.  My other hand would be stroking my own dick,
stiff with wonder at the incredible guy I was blowing.  His cum would blast
into my mouth and I'd shoot my own load, spurts of cum arcing through the
air.  Sometimes he'd carry me into the bedroom, where he would pin me down on
the bed.  His powerful hands on mine, pressing me down with no effort.  He
would gently lube my ass, then grease his shaft.  Carefully he would press
his big dick into me, until I had taken it all the way.  Slowly at first,
then faster and faster, he would fuck me.  My hands would be roaming all over
his massive body, high on how hard they felt.  The veins popping out, the
striations flashing into view as he pounded my butt.  I'd hold on as long as
I could, but eventually his fucking would make me shoot my load all over my
stomach and his.  The tightening of my ass would bring him over the edge and
I'd feel his sperm shooting deep into me.  We'd spend hours enjoying each
other, me getting off on his muscles and strength, he getting off on my
getting off on him.  That's my fantasy.