Date: Sat, 9 Mar 2002 16:19:29 -0500
From: XH4M <xhuge4muscl@hotmail.com>
Subject: BIG IS BETTER 25

BIG IS BETTER

By XH4M

This story is a fantasy.  All characters in this story are fictional with
no resemblance to any real persons implied.  Any reader with objections to
graphic descriptions of sexual encounters between males, who may not have
reached the legal age of consent, or whose local, regional, state or
national jurisprudence prohibits such descriptions, should NOT read
further.  Copyright (c) 2002 XH4M.  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 story should be directed to: xhuge4muscl@hotmail.com


PART 25 - THERE AIN'T NO MOUNTAINS HIGH ENOUGH

Sam turned around and moved over between two massive stacked piles of
concrete road dividers.  Each pile contained four tiers of neatly arranged
dividers, forming a giant cube about 10 feet high.  Each tier was made up
of five dividers set tightly side-by-side.  The tiers were stacked at 90
degree angles on top of each other like giant Lincoln Logs, interlocking
and stabilizing the entire cube-shaped pile.  The two huge cubes sat on
skids constructed of steel I-beams welded together.  An industrial-sized
chain was hooked to each corner of the skid.  The four corner chains formed
the outline of a pyramid as they came together over each cube and connected
to single massive chain at the pyramid's visual apex.  My eyes followed the
two larger chains up to the ceiling.  They each passed over a sturdy wheel
rim apparently manufactured for some large vehicle.  The rims were mounted
on axles, allowing them to freely rotate.  The axles were welded to roof
girders overhead.  It was all a pulley system, but on a gigantic scale.  I
followed the two larger chains as they ran along the parallel girders.
They passed over another rim and then descended down to the floor on either
side of a 'table' of sorts; a large, flat-surfaced platform the size of a
big door.  This table was inclined about 45 degrees, supported underneath
by another custom-made triangular frame of welded I-beams sitting on the
floor.

I watched Sam loop each chain under another pivoting rim on either side of
the 'table'.  Their axles had been set directly into the poured concrete
floor, making them look a bit like big lollipops sticking up.  The end link
of each chain was perfectly circular and larger than the others, measuring
8 inches in diameter or more.

Sam stepped up to the table and turned facing away from it. He leaned back
spread-eagled on the slanted surface until his shoulders were firmly
supported in that semi-reclined position, then he reached down on each side
and took one chain in each hand.  With his arms wide open, Sam closed his
eyes.  The chains rattled as Sam bent his elbows, taking up the little bit
of slack until both chains snapped absolutely taut.

Only moments after that, the giant skids piled high with concrete blocks
were lifting clear of the floor and their speed of accent was accelerating,
too.  Blastoff!

Sam started pounding out flies with mechanical precision, as if just
warming up with the pec-deck at the local Y.M.C.A.  His form was textbook
perfection: his rhythm unwavering, even though he was lifting enough
concrete to make a large bunker.  I listened to sound of the chains' loud
clattering as they rolled back and forth over their respective 'pulleys'
and watched the two huge piers of concrete rise and fall hypnotically.
Again, Sam's occasional low gutteral groans were more reminiscent of
pleasurable sex than any particular discomfort or pain.

In no time at all his pecs were beginning to pump up stupendously - and it
was stupendously arousing to witness his man-melons mushrooming right
before my eyes.  I began rooting him on louder than maybe I should have.
The fact is that Sam was pushing my over the edge... taking me past some
point of no return... and I was losing the little control I'd had.

"Go, Sam.  You're showing that concrete who's The Boss.  Wow!  Your chest
is MONTROUS!"

And as he continued pumping out repetition after repetition, they became
monsters indeed - total freaks of nature - and this was all about to only
get freakier in ways I could never have anticipated.

With each rep, the armor plates on Sam's chest were still getting thicker.
Like twin warrior's shields, they pumped to such mythological proportions
that the straps of his tank top were rising clear off the fronts of his
massive shoulders.  When his gargantuan pec mountains peaked at the top of
each contraction, I could have passed my hand through the gaps beneath
them.  And the striations in his pectorals were so numerous and deep that
the separated bundles of muscle fibers could even be counted.  His tank top
was progressively stretching thinner across his upper body - though not
quite as thin as my rubber now was.  That was approaching its elastic
limits and getting uncomfortable.  Who'd even invented these things sure
never consulted me.  But Sam's incredibly erotic display of absolute and
total inhuman strength so enthralled me that it was easier to forget the
discomfort of this penile strangulation a little while longer.

Sam glanced at my groin and, seeming to gain inspiration, actually
increased the speed of his repetitions.  I also spotted his heightened
state of arousal, something I would have never expected under these
extraordinary circumstances.  It's possible that I hadn't noticed before,
having so many other big muscles vying for my attentions.  Now another one
needed to be added to my list of incredible distractions.  Maybe it was
just more obvious to me now that he was semi-reclined on that benching
table.  I rationalized that Sam, always true to his word, was attending to
every physical detail and making sure that he was getting his entire body
pumped to perfection.

What Sam was doing to his physique though - and especially to his chest
muscles at the moment - was forever redefining for me what it means to 'get
a pump.'  It was almost as if they were actually being filled with
compressed air and might suddenly even burst like balloons.  His tank top
was in about the same condition as my rubber.  The cotton material was
losing it's opaqueness and his magnificent dark areolas were visible
through it.  As his tanktop stretched evermore thinly, the straps became
the only remaining parts of his shirt with any more elasticity left to
give.  But their former width was disappearing as they pulled ever tighter.
The skin over his outrageous twin domes took on a bluish and
semi-translucent quality.  The extraordinary muscular force Sam must be
exerting to lift two building foundations simultaneously - and the internal
pressures that must generate within his mighty pectorals - were both beyond
my imagination.  And those small, telltale red lines began appearing under
his skin again.  Micro-capillary blood vessels were exploding; testimony
that at least some of the Laws of Physics still applied, though Sam seemed
to be able to miraculously bend other rules more or less to his will.

Truthfully, his pectorals had now achieved such gargantuan proportions that
they no doubt would have been completely grotesque to some guys.  In my own
eyes however, they became evermore erotic with each additional millimeter
they gained in size.  They were twin muscular impossibilities that both
chilled and thrilled me to the bone.  And whether Sam actually ever
intended this to happen I didn't know, but because of him, I nevertheless
found myself on an incredible voyage of self-discovery.  The depths of my
nature as a man were being revealed to me.  I was discovering within myself
the incredible sensual power of 'freaky' and reveling in the potent erotic
beauty I found in the 'extreme.'  Unknown to me however, the evening held
in store other insights into my nature and even wilder erotic spectacles
that would surpass the surreal.

I noticed small, darker spots slowly forming in the material around each of
Sam's large areolas.  At first I thought that it might be just sweat
collecting, though admittedly in a rather peculiar way.  But as his
repetitions continued, the spots grew a bit larger and darker as the
material absorbed more.  But more of what?  At some point it dawned on me
that this stuff was leaking from Sam's nipples - and with that realization,
my cock suddenly stiffened more.  It actually bothered me momentarily that
I found myself further aroused by such a bizarre thing, but it turned me on
nevertheless.  But my damn rubber wouldn't tolerate or forgive much
additional excitement.  It was getting tighter than hell and less easy
ignored.  Still, I'd postpone the inevitable as long as I could for Sam's
benefit.

The size of the dark areas gradually increased as the cotton absorbed more
liquid.  I stood up wobbling a little on my legs, and moved closer to watch
his rising volcanoes with this strange lava now oozing from their cones.
Sam looked down at his own pectoral behemoths and observed them while he
continued doing chest flies like some unstoppable machine.  I was sure
their immense pump would have prevented Sam from being able to see any part
of his body below them.

Still showing no signs as yet that he was fatigued, Sam nevertheless just
suddenly let the giant piles of concrete come to rest back on the floor and
released the chains.

He remained there, almost motionless and utterly silent, reclined on the
table-sized bench and staring down at his own chest.  Sam seemed to be just
as contented as I was to watch his two mountains simply rise and fall
slowly with each breath he took.

Sam forcibly expelled all the air from his lungs and then began to slowly
inhale - and I mean DEEPLY - so amazingly deeply, in fact, that it seemed
to me that he would eventually draw all the air in the room into his lungs.
This muscleman had an astonishing lung capacity!  I wondered how long Sam
could actually hold his breath underwater and then speculated that it would
be as long as the current world free-diving champion.  But then again, this
was Sam I thought, so perhaps even longer.

As he slowly sucked more-and-more air into his giant bellows, his chest
kept expanding outward until the straps of his tank top, pulled thin like
guitar strings, simply couldn't take it anymore.  With sudden twangs like
the sound of bowstrings snapping, both of his straps simply vanished.  The
front of Sam's tank top forcibly blew right off his chest and fell down
over his thighs, fully exposing his two magnificent heaving, undulating
muscular monsters.  I assumed this was all intentional because Sam then
lifted his head off the table slightly to get a better look at his own
absolutely freaked-out pecs.

After some considerable time passed, Sam slowly turned his eyes upon me as
if perhaps thinking, "So what 'cha think of these, huh?"  If Sam could have
read my mind at the moment, he wouldn't have understood my thoughts.  "Gut
gebaut" were the only words running through MY mind.  Roughly that meant,
"built like a brick shithouse in the chest" - which in Sam's case was still
an extreme understatement.

Sam remained relatively motionless otherwise with his arms resting my his
side, except for his occasional head movements.  He still seemed quite
immersed in his strange altered-state.  He bore no discernible facial
expression and his eyes were eerily vacuous.  But even in his strange
condition, Sam was still sporting a truly spectacular boner, though I
doubted that he was even aware of it - or much of anything else for that
matter.

I followed his eyes as he returned his blank gaze back to his immense
muscle-domes.  Sam couldn't possibly see directly his own areolas or the
liquid steadily oozing from his own nipples, slowly forming into droplets.
As each drop became large enough, it ran down and collected underneath his
lower pectoral shelves like bats hanging from a cave ceiling.  There, they
combined with other drops and then randomly fell off, dripping on to his
rippled abdomen below.  From Sam's viewpoint, his deep cleavage must have
appeared totally stunning, like looking down through a steep gorge between
two Himalayan-sized mountains of muscle.

I found myself ogling his two heaving beasts just as Sam, himself, was
doing as well.  The areolas around each nipple had grown even larger as his
pecs had increased in size.  They were dark in color and big - the size of
silver dollars - and like big painted bulls-eyes, they drew my eyes
automatically to the nipples in their centers.

As if being directed by an invisible hand, I found my head circling ever
closer to Sam's pecs.  As I hovered some inches above one areola almost
salivating over that mammoth pectoral god, I turned to glance at Sam's
face.  I was surprised to see that he was watching me even though his
expression was ambivalently detached.

Keeping his eyes right one me, he took another slow deep inhalation, as if
intentionally thrusting his huge, juicy pec closer to my mouth.
Involuntarily, my mouth just sprung open.  Sam's greatly-augmented lung
capacity did the rest as he pushed the massive giant up until my mouth was
directly over his big, glistening-wet areola.  I extended my tongue and
began to gently lick the drop of mysterious fluid that hung suspended from
it, slowly playing with its taste on my tongue - a taste unexpectedly
pleasing and strangely reminiscent of something, too - but I couldn't
remember what.

It was some moments later that I first noticed some odd feelings.  I felt
almost a desire accompanied by a gnawing sensation in my stomach.  Not
thinking much of it, I sampled a little more with my tongue and played with
it in my mouth.  Not 20 seconds later, the sensations became noticeably
more pronounced.  This desire became almost euphoric while at the same time
the gnawing emptiness in my stomach turned decidedly uncomfortable.  I felt
a strong urge to sample larger amounts of Sam's mysterious juice, no longer
feeling satisfied with just little dabs of it on my tongue.  His areola
seemed suddenly hypnotically inviting and irresistible and I moved in to
completely encircle it with my opened mouth.  His fleshy pec felt
wonderfully warm and yet hard as rock on my lips.  I began lapping his
areola voraciously, making sure I gathered ever morsel of juice available.
Then I covered every square inch of the surrounding area seeking more.  It
was as if I was suddenly on a determined quest for the Holy Grail.  I
licked along the underbelly of his massive pec looking for any previous
runoff that might still be clinging to that great muscular cliff face.

Then my mouth returned to the source - the spring from where all of this
goodness had flowed... and I starting to suck on it hard.  Very hard.  I
was rewarded for my efforts quickly with a little renewed, fresh flow.  I'd
only managed to collect a teasingly minute sample in my mouth before a
noticeable tremor suddenly moved through Sam's entire body.  I turned to
glance at Sam's face even as I swallowed that little bit of his delicious
pec-beverage.

He was already shaking his head around as if to clear out the cobwebs, and
his arms and legs were becoming reanimated as well.  Sam was reverting back
to his old self again, but this time more quickly than before.

It wasn't too long before I heard Sam say in a surprisingly normal-sounding
voice again, "Hey there, big boy.  What 'cha doin' there?  Now that was
some REAL liftin', wasn't it?"

Apparently, I'd distracted Sam enough when I'd started mouthing his pec
like a Hoover vacuum to draw him out of his self-induced 'altered state.'
That was sufficiently prolonged contact to do the trick.  And I also felt
rather stupid now because somehow I'd completely forgotten this.

Oddly though, Sam's unexpected 'return from the other side' wasn't making
much of an impression on me at that moment.  My eyes were being drawn back
again and again to his incredibly hot pecs; those big nipples enticing me
with their strange wonderful man-brew.  I felt a fiery tingle all over my
skin and the visceral, painful emptiness right in the pit of my stomach was
impossible to ignore.  I felt increasingly strange - and this craving to
attack Sam's megalithic pectorals with my mouth seemed increasingly
powerful.  My urges came in waves, building, ebbing and then intensifying
again.

At the crest of each wave, this strange desire was almost irresistable.  It
was all I could even think of doing; the only thing that mattered to me.
I'd only briefly tasted small samples of Sam's strange pectoral fluid, but
I sure wanted more of it - a great deal more.  In fact, I could easily
picture myself sucking and swallowing huge mouthfuls of his masculine
elixir, if only I could.  It was as if I sensed that only this manly
cocktail would satisfy the awful emptiness in my stomach.  My eyes feasted
ravenously on one of his luscious monsters as I considered the best way to
go about getting that enormous pec all in my mouth at once.

"So, am I big enough now, Pete?"  Sam asked, seeing if he could draw my
attention.

I did glance at Sam's face.  His eyes were clearing and brighter again.
There was even a detectable slightly impish grin.

"Those are most magnificent pecs in the whole world, Sam.  They look
freaky!  Your chest is hot.  Hot, hot, HOT!"

Sam looked back down at his own chest.  Then with some surprise in his
voice, he said, "Damn! Those IS really freaky big now, ain't they!"

Sam then noticed the shredded tank top hanging over his thighs, still
tucked into the waistband of his shorts.  Grabbing the ragged remains, he
snapped it off and tossed it aside in one quick motion.  Then he started to
look himself over very thoroughly.

"Boy, I think I'm mighty big and presentable now all over, don't ya think?"

He ran his hands over his biceps admiringly, then extended his arms to
check the state of the horseshoes, and finally explored his own
outrageously pumped pecs.

"I love it when I get a great pump like this!"

I couldn't respond.  I could even take my eyes off his chest now.  I was
spellbound by their size.  I might have even been in love.  If I was a
Mormon, I'd have had to marry them both.

After gawking for a few moments more, I impulsively blurted, "And that
stuff coming out of your nipples - Wow!  That stuff is great!"

My last comment caught Sam's immediate attention.  He studied my face for
awhile as if he was looking for something.

Then he said with some concern, "Say Pete.  Your eyes look kinda funny to
me.  Ya didn't get any of my pec-juice in your mouth, did ya?"

"Yep, you bet I sure did," I said, making a big 'yummy' with my tongue and
lips.  "I thought maybe that's what you wanted me to do, but it was kinda
hard for me to know for sure.  Don't you remember?  It was an offer I just
couldn't refuse!"

Sam suddenly did not look too happy at all.  "Oh, shit.  I don't remember
doin' that.  I wanted to tell you more 'bout me....  Other things - like
that pec stuff, too - before you ever....  Shit!  It's just that I woulda
wanted you to know other things about it ahead of time, so's you would've
at least had the choice.  Shit.  Shit, shit, shit!  I'm so stupid.  I
didn't want it to happen this way.  Now it might be to late already," he
sighed, "but I needs to find out for sure...."

Sam wiped his index finger under each nipple, picking up the glistening
dewdrops still clinging there.  Then he put his finger directly in front of
my mouth and just held it there - and watched me closely.  My eyes became
immediately glued to his finger.  The sensation was as if I'd been in a
desert for a week without water, and Sam's finger was an oasis.  Licking my
dry mouth, I anticipated the taste of those watery droplets passing my
lips.  The look on my face alone must have told Sam whatever it was that he
wanted to know.

"Yep.  That's what I was afraid of," he said, nodding his head as if
acknowledging to himself that his suspicions were true.  "Well, it looks
like the genie's already out of THAT bottle now.  It's already too late.  I
suppose, Pete, that you really wanna have some more of this again, don't
'cha...."

He held his finger closer, bringing it directly in front of my lips.  "Here
ya go, Pete...."

Involuntarily, I closed my eyes and engulfed his finger with my mouth.  I
thoroughly sucked and licked every square millimeter of his finger, intent
on removing every last trace of those precious dewdrops from every pore and
microscopic crevice.  Sam continued talking, leaving his finger there in my
mouth.

"Pete, this is my fault.  This here don't happen to me often at all.  The
conditions gotta be just so, and they's pretty rare," he said.  I assumed
he was referring to this strange pec juice.  "First, my pecs gotta be
worked real hard - right to the max - just like they is now.  And second, I
gotta be turned-on at the same time.  I means really fired up!  It's that
there second condition that's almost always missin'."

Sam chuckled, seeming a little amused at what he was going to say next.
"Seems the Lord made these giant muscular hooters of mine so that they can
sorta cum too, sometimes - just like my cock!"  Then he added a more
serious-sounding postscript.

"But Pete, this muscle-milk o' mine... it just affects a man...."

Cum?  I realized only then what had been so oddly familiar about the taste
all along; a taste I only experienced a few times in my distant youth.  It
was the taste of a young stud - the taste of Gabe's very fresh spunk!  But
Sam's pec ejaculate was scrumptious - and strangely, also deeply
satisfying; more like a premium Ben & Jerry's ice cream.

Sam finally extracted his finger slowly from my mouth, realizing that I
would just keep sucking until there was only a stump left.  I opened my
eyes again, tilting my head back and forth like a contented puppy and
grinning idiotically.  Sam continued scrutinizing my every reaction.

"Your eyes are gettin' even glassier now.  Your pupils are startin' to
dilate, too," Doctor Sam informed me, updating my current medical
prognosis.  "I ain't seen that look in a guy's eyes for... jeez, I can't
even remember when.  Boy, I'd forgotten how even just a little bit this
stuff affects a guy so powerful-like."

He continued probing his hypothesis.  "Even though I got all of these big
muscles pumped up special for your birthday, I'm thinkin' that right now
anyway - ya just really fancies my big muscleman-hooters, don't 'cha, Pete.
Ain't that right?"

In fact, it seemed impossible to make my eyes look at anything else.  I
could have gawked at them open-mouthed for the rest of my life and have
been totally contented.  No one would have to bring me food either.  They
would even feed me.

I responded to Sam's question almost worshipfully, "They're so... I mean
their size is... God, they're huge.  They're real... sexy... you know, when
they're all big like that...."

Sam's eyes twinkled a bit.  "Yep, I was thinkin' you might be feelin' that
way 'bout 'em.  They's just extra good-lookin' to you right now, huh?  I
bet you even got a powerful thirst - maybe kinda tingly feelin' all over,
too?  Ain't that right, Pete?"

I proceeded to answer his questions, but I also didn't seem to grasp any of
the possible implications at that moment.

"Yes, I'm real thirsty - and I don't feel normal at all either.  My
stomach's feeling awful empty, and I've got these pins and needles all over
my skin.  But how did you know that, Sam?"

"Like I told ya, Pete, this stuff affects a man.  Just that little bit ya
tasted is already affectin' you."

Sam then reviewed aloud this unexpected whole turn of events, but perhaps
talking more to himself actually than to me.

"Oh Pete - what am I gonna do now?  What AM I gonna do?  I never shoulda
asked ya take off your clothes.  I know'd that'd turn me on.  I just
shoulda know'd better.  I shoulda know'd that I'd start gettin' other urges
comin' over me.  I never meant to encourage you though - honest, I didn't.
But it's a little late now to be cryin' over spilt milk, I guess."  Then he
glanced down at his own chest again, and chuckled at his own unintended
humor.  "Well, seems there ain't nothin' I can do now but just go with the
flow..."

He chuckled again even louder, then turned his attention squarely back on
me.

"Pete - well you's still gonna have a great birthday party!  I maybe needs
to change the order of my birthday presents a bit, that's all.  I know's
which one you'd be appreciatin' the most right now.  The truth is... so
will I...."