Hans Busts His Brother's Shirt
|This is in large part a true story. Names have been changed and some time sequences are altered to provide continuity.
|I watched the triceps bulge in Hans' arm as he pushed the door shut on his old Ford. I had agreed to meet him here Sunday at a construction site that he and his father had been working on to help him with a math course he was taking at the local community college. It was the summer after my freshman year in college and I was working in the boatyard scraping and painting hulls for money next semester. Hans and I had been friends in high school where we were sort of motorheads and hadn't done the jock or party scene back then. Hans and his family had immigrated from the old country when Hans was small and his old man had put him to work in construction I swear when he was twelve. Hans was was about the same height as me (6 feet or so) and weighed a little less (185 vs 200). We both prided ourselves on our strength (mostly from labor, I didn't start to workout in a gym until later). He kinda still wore his curly dark blond hair like in the old country (brushed back) and had a really great working man's physique. His shoulders sloped down from a thick neck and traps, with rounded deltoids and his upper arms, while not overly huge, were a very defined and muscular 16 inches when he flexed his biceps. His forearms were large and very muscular with thick wrists which had given him one of his high school nicknames, "Popeye". Hans had huge legs too, and had to buy size 38 pants, even though his waist was 32, just to fit those massive legs and muscular butt. I would sometimes tease Hans about his "fresh off the boat" look which would lead to a wrestling match which I usually won through a modicum of skill and 15-20 extra pounds.
The thing that day that amazed me was the way his shirt fit him. It seemed too small and the buttons over his abs were loose while the top buttons seemed stretched. I lamely said "Gee, we better get started before you bust that shirt". I remember he laughed and said that the only clean shirt in the house was his younger brother's. We went inside to get to work. Since both of our houses were full of brothers, sisters, and grandparents, the construction site was the only quiet spot to work. We found two old chairs with those folding writing arms to use and opened up the books. I had made some progress with him working out some simple calculus problems, when Hans put his elbow on his writing table and started resting his head in his hand. I became totally distracted watching how his huge right biceps bulged. There was a small gap at the crook of his arm and then the muscle swelled thick into a huge ball with striations and patterns that then tapered towards the shoulder. A thick vein ran along the outside from the upper part of his forearm up to where his upper arm disappeared in his shirt sleeve. That sleeve was now pushed back high on his arm and the fabric was stretched tight to the point where the stitches in the seam were starting to separate. Hans noticed I was staring at his arm and playfully pumped his muscle up and down, each time the sleeve seemed like it was going to rip, but didn't.
"Ok" I said "let's take a break". "Do you want to arm wrestle?" he asked, "I've been swinging a sledge, busting walls for my old man all summer and I'll whip your ass!". Hans and I had competed at arm wrestling before and righty, I had beaten him 3 out 5 times before and lefty I was unstoppable. We found a surface and locked up righty. I watched as Hans' muscles bulged as we got into it. His shirt sleeve patterned to his biceps which balled up to the size of an baseball and seemed to peak even more. The veins popped out on his arm and he slowly gained on me and then put me down. "Ok, whimp, who's the boss!" he shouted flexing his arm into a gooseneck that bulged his forearm like a bowling pin. I said "fuck you, let's go lefty". We locked up lefty and started. We struggled for about 2-3 minutes, Hans' biceps stood up high and his forearm became a mass of veins. Finally we agreed it was a draw. "Shit" I said, "you really have gotten strong".
We relaxed with some beers we had in the car and played around crushing the empties lengthwise in front our chest using the power of our pecs. Then Hans said"I bet I can bend that bar over there", pointing to piece of re-bar standing in the corner. "You're full of shit" I said. "Five bucks" he shot back. I walked over and examined the the bar; it was about a 4 foot length of 1/2 inch re-bar, kinda rusty from sitting exposed. "It's your money" I shot back,"I'll just buy more beer". Hans strode over to the bar and picked it up and put it behind his neck. His biceps popped up as he strained to bend the bar and the veins stood out on his neck. Amazed, I watched as his powerful forearms grew veiny and then the bar started to bend! Hans bent it about 30 degrees and then moved the bar in front of him. He took a deep breath and then I watched in amazement as continued to bend the bar in front of him. Now his shoulders pushed out against his shirt, pulling the sleeves even higher until the sleeve fabric was pulled up into a vee on the outer part of his upper arm. At that point the sleeve couldn't go higher because his deltoids had swelled up like there were two softballs stuffed in his shoulders. Hans was bending the bar past 90 degrees now and turning red, swearing and sweating. His massive traps were fully flexed and were bulging almost up to his ears while he was bending the bar in a classic "most muscular pose" that body builders often display.
Suddenly there was a loud ripping sound and the seams holding the sleeves to the shirt opened up. I could see the huge deltoids and the striations in the muscle. Hans smiled and stopped. "You ripped your shirt" I said. "Naw, I ripped my brother's shirt" he said and unbuttoned it and took it off. Not only had he ripped the sleeves at the shoulders, but there was a huge tear down the middle of the back. As I gazed at Hans, a funny feeling came over me and I felt warm and noticed my heart racing. Hans stared directly at me with his green eyes and said"I've got a great pump now, feel it". With that he put my hand on his chest and started to bend the bar some more. I felt his pecs ripple and harden. Almost involuntarily, I moved my hands over his chest feeling the smooth golden skin with a light coating of blond fuzz and the warm marble of his muscles moving and straining underneath. His iron-hard delts seem to split into three sections and once again his huge traps bulged up as he bent the bar in front of him until his fists touched. We were now touching almost face to face and I feel his sweet breath, now rapid. Suddenly, he tossed the bar aside and we started to wrestle. He pulled my shirt over my head and ripped it completely off. We rolled on the floor and I gained the advantage on him with a full nelson. I felt his powerful, bar-bending shoulders rippling as I pinned him face down with me on top trying control him. His ass was as hard as a rock as his powerful, muscular legs tried to flip the two of us over. I was now fully erect as my crotch ground into his flexing ass. Then, almost simultaneously, we relaxed and I released my hold on him. Hans brought his arms in and amazingly did a pushup with me lying on his back. He held it for a few seconds and I moved my hands over the backs of his arms where his triceps had bulged into huge, solid horseshoes.
"Have you ever had a backrub?" I asked and rolled off him and started to message his back, feeling the large, strong working man muscles there. He rolled over and his pants were tented with a huge erection. "Take your pants off" I said. We both did and stood there naked with our dicks standing almost straight up. We then began to grind our crotches together in a slow dance. I marveled at Hans' large legs. The quads were clearly defined and came down to a tear drop shape above his knees. Below his knees, his calves flared out in a diamond shape. His gluts were large and melon shaped; incredibly hard and flexed in a way that made me crazy. After about 5 minutes of crotch grinding, I could not hold back any longer and shot my load all over Hans' rippling abs. He reciprocated and shot a huge wad that landed on my chest and chin. We rested for a while, drank some beers and then I got off a second time riding his leg while he flexed and rippled those hard, powerful quads. Just before I popped, he put his arms behind his head and flexed his biceps. My wad hit his arm and I rubbed it all over his rock hard biceps while he turned his wrist back and forth making the flexed muscle elongate and then ball up again. Then Hans stroked his meat to climax again, turning red while every muscle on his powerful frame bulged to the max as he jizzed. I shot a third load watching this.
The next time we met, we did some other stuff and Hans crushed a garbage can with those incredible legs. I'll continue it you want.
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