Can I Be a Freak?


By falseyedee

Now when I was out, either at the gym or running, or running errands, I kept a look out for my muscle boy. I even started hanging out at that café, in hopes of seeing him. I don't know what it was, but our paths didn't seem to cross. Although it was summer and he was a student I figured he had to have a job or something. And of course I had to work. This little body builder had gotten into my soul. I couldn't think of anything else. I wanted to fuck him again. I wanted to be fucked by him. That was a new experience for me, because I'm usually exclusively a top. The desire to feel his cock up my ass was growing every day. As the weeks went by, it looked like he wasn't going to call me. I got more and more disappointed, then a little angry. My hunger for this muscle kid got more and more intense.

Eight weeks later, the Friday of Labor Day weekend, he called me again. I came home from work to a message on my machine. "Hey, Dean. Dude, this is your muscle man. Let's get together this weekend, like tonight, and see what develops? I've made quite a bit of progress. I know you'll like it. Meet me at the same café tonight at 8. Later, Dude." If any other man had called me out of the blue like that I'd have been put out by the presumption. But, the muscle boy had called me again! I danced around the living room and headed to the kitchen to make dinner with a song in my heart. My ass was ready to get it on with his beautiful cock.

Again I arrived at the café early. This time, however, I had to wait. It was irritating to have to wait. It was rude that he couldn't show up even close to the time he'd selected. I felt like leaving. I toyed with the idea, but my yearning for his muscles kept me in my seat. It was just past 8:30 when he finally arrived. I knew it was him right away. He was huge. I couldn't believe how big he'd gotten in the past two months.

In June he had out weighed me by at least ten pounds, maybe fifteen. Now he must have weighed a good 50 lbs more than me. And I'd been hitting the gym pretty hard out of frustration. I had gained 5 lbs of muscle myself and at 169 lbs. was bigger than I'd ever been. Putting on that muscle had made me feel good. I hadn't trained for size since I was in High School and had spent the past few years sculpting my ripped physique. A lot of my friends said I looked like a physique model. This summer my body that I'd been so content with suddenly seemed inadequate. I wanted to get bigger. My gain of 5 lbs paled in comparison to the 45 lbs of raw hard beef, he told me later, he'd packed on.

He was wearing a pair of black box cut lycra shorts and a tight black string tank top; the kind with a deep scoop at the chest. The tank top was too small for his big muscled chest. His pectorals were so broad that his nipples were exposed peaking out on the outside, the arm side, of the tank's straps. The tank top clung to his pecs riding high exposing his mind blowing abs. His legs were huge. It was clear they were a good bit bigger than his still narrow, strong waist. I could see how much bigger his arms were and how incredible his traps were. But it was hard to concentrate on that because I could see that his cock and balls had grown significantly as well. I licked my lips and imagined that big thick creature plunging into my hole.

People stared at him as his strode over to my table. It didn't seem to bother him. He clearly enjoyed the attention. My anger at his being late, quickly dissolved into animal lust for his huge muscles. I wanted to feel how strong he was now. I wanted to worship this muscle building freak. I wanted to be his boy toy. These feelings were totally out of character and I knew it. But they were powerful and deep-seated and I had always felt this way, hadn't I?

He looked down at me and said, "let's go, man." I stammered something and followed him like a puppy. I'd never felt so proud to be seen with another person. I was with this huge muscle man who looked like a competition ready bodybuilder. I was with him. His back was broader and his butt was even higher and more delectable. I was grinning like an idiot as we walked out the door.

The energy between us had changed. He still had that "come fuck me" aura. Now it was more like "come fuck me if you can". The first time we had hooked up, I'd wanted to fuck him and he'd wanted to be fucked. Now that was completely changed. I didn't want to fuck him. It would be wrong somehow. God, how I wanted to have him ride me all weekend. Maybe it was because he was taller. I'm 5'-9" and we were eye to eye this time. Could he have actually grown since the first time? I was certain he'd been a couple inches shorter then.

"Go close the blinds and pull out the futon," he told me. I hesitated, not being used to being told what to do. "What are you waiting for, little man? Do it." He crossed his big 20" arms across his huge high chest. I hurried to do what I'd been told. When I was done, I started to take off my shoes. "Did I say you could do that?"

"Uh, no."

"You don't do anything without being told, Dean. Is that clear?"

I nodded. It was very clear. It was appropriate. It was what I wanted.

"Sit on the futon and look at me. Look at my strong body. Admire my amazing bod."

I was quite happy to do as I was told. I sat on the edge of the futon with my legs together like a little kid in the presence of his hero. He stood arms akimbo and rolled his huge melon sized shoulders. The muscles in his big traps bunched together and seemed to get bigger for a second. I know my cock was getting bigger. He grabbed the top of the tank top where it scooped low over his huge chiseled pecs. His arms moved down and away from his body, effortlessly tearing the shirt not only down the front, but it split down the back unable to stretch any further. He stood like that for a few seconds, his arms wide before he tossed the pathetic bits of fabric away.

He was my hero. He was my super hero. He motioned me to stand and approach him. "Untie my shoes and pull my shorts down for me, little man."

I did as I was told. When I kneeled to untie his shoes, I could feel the heat of his mammoth legs. He seemed to radiate power. He put his hand on my shoulder and kept me from standing while he kicked off his shoes. Wow, he was so strong. I didn't fight against his strength, but I could feel him controlling it. I wanted to feel him use his strength. I looked up at him past the protruding plates of rock hard muscles that were his chest. He looked down at me and snickered.

"Now the shorts."

I reached up to get a grip on the lycra shorts. This was the first time I'd been able to touch him. He was pure muscle from top to bottom. His skin was thin and smooth. I had to reach around and pull the shorts down over his high hard bubble butt. I traced the sweep of his phenomenal ass with my hands as I pulled them down. When I got them down below his muscle butt, I moved my hands to the front and even before I started pulling them, I could feel the heat from his big cock. It had to be 8 inches long, soft. His monster cock flopped out over two low hanging balls like a pair of small lemons. I had to work to get the small shorts pulled over his granite quads. My hands traced the wondrous sweep of his monster thighs. They were so big, much bigger than his waist. Every muscle was visible, like in an anatomy chart. I wanted so much to suck his cock and lick his thighs. I wanted him to clamp his big muscular legs around my head while I excavated his ass with my tongue.

When I was fully bent over to get the shorts past his football sized calves to his ankles, he raised his right leg and placed his foot in the small of my back. I tried to sit up, but he held me there with a gentle pressure from his huge legs. I couldn't look up and my hands pawed helplessly at his steely left calve. Man, he was strong. "Now who am I, Dean?"

Oh, shit! He wanted me to call him by name? I didn't know his name? Why didn't I get his name? He must have known I didn't know his name. What was I supposed to do? How could I please him?

"Little man, I'm waiting. Who am I?" He applied a little downward pressure with his leg. This position was not comfortable. My chest was pressed against my legs and it was getting hard to breath. I involuntarily grabbed around his calve with both hands. My fingers didn't touch! That was really hot. His calves were so hard, cut and huge. My dick was hard. I wanted to make my muscle god happy.

"You. You're. My muscle god!" I gasped out. "You. You're my super hero!"

He laughed letting up slightly on the pressure to my back, "very good, Dean. Say it again. Say it like you mean it."

"You are my muscle god! You are my super hero! I want to worship you. I want to worship your huge freaky muscles!" I knew the second time I said it that it was true. He was my muscle god and I existed to worship his freaky muscles.

He laughed again. I felt him remove his foot from my back. But I stayed in that position of worship and said again, "You are my muscle god and I am your servant. I live to worship your freaky super hero muscles." Only a trace of my old self remained in my body. That trace was far away, watching the new Dean assume the role he was meant to fulfill.

I felt his strong hands wrap themselves around my puny arms and he lifted me to my feet in a single smooth motion. He was showing me his strength. My cock got harder. I was conscious of it tenting my chinos. His cock was hard as well.

"Very good, Dean. You learn quickly. Take of your clothes and prepare to worship at my feet."

My heart leapt at his words and I tried to take off my clothes. I managed to kick off my shoes, and step out of my chinos. The buttons on my shirt were flummoxing my fingers as I tried to rush through the process. He batted my hands away and sticking his hands inside my buttons, ripped my shirt open in a single motion, buttons flying everywhere, some bouncing off his granite chest. It basically fell off after that. He'd shown me a sample of his strength again. My cock got harder and started to seep pre-cum.

His huge cock was 10 inches hard and easily 3 or 4 inches across. He allowed me to attempt to take it in my mouth and to lick it. It was too big to suck. It was built for plowing. I paused for a second and looked up at my muscle god. I was so happy to be his boy. He pulled me to my feet by my hair then grabbed me with both hands at my hips.

He lifted me high like a little kid and told me to wrap my legs around his waist as he set me down on his thick hard dick. I did as I was told. The pain as he pushed me down on his thick cock was more than I'd expected. I rarely got fucked and certainly never by a man with a cock as thick as this. My muscle god ignored my yelps of pain and used his arms to raise and lower me over his throbbing cock. Each time he pushed me down his huge dick went in further. Each time he lifted me up, I didn't think it could go in any further. Soon his pre-cum was flowing and I had loosened up. I used my legs to pull my butt down harder and further on his throbbing rod.

His arms, shoulders and chest were well pumped up from using me as a barbell of sorts. He was so fucking strong. I was just a play thing to him now. The sight of his glistening pumped bodybuilder muscles, along with my own hard cock alternately being slapped against his granite abs and jammed up against the underside of his pumped pecs, combined with the fat head of his cock pounding my gland had my own pre-cum flowing. We achieved an amazing rhythm. I rode up and down, at the mercy of my super-freaky-hero.

I urged him on. I never wanted it to stop. The rhythm got faster and faster until we were both shaking. Finally, he let loose inside me jamming me hard against his steel abs repeated while filling me with his hot cum. He came inside me repeatedly. I was so close to coming. He slowly began to lift me until the head of his cock was just inside my hole then slid me back down until his big head was just knocking my gland. He played with me there lifting and dropping me about and inch up and down, playing my gland like an instrument. I was crazy with pleasure. I'd never felt anything so incredible. I didn't think ecstasy like this was possible. I bellowed like a fucking animal when I came spewing cum all over my muscle god. I'd never come so much. When I came, he came again, driving me even further into realms of pleasure unknown to me. I came again, something that hadn't happened since I was 19. His cum filled me up and started dripping out of my hole and onto the floor.

He lifted me off his cock, my new best friend, and tossed me hard across the little room onto his futon. My brain was addled from the heights of pleasure I'd just experienced. But deep down inside me a little voice was saying, "Dean, you've got to tend to your muscle god." I flopped off the futon and half crawled to the bathroom where I splashed some water on my face, grabbed some towels and cleaned myself off. When I went to the other room my super freak was standing, hands on hips dripping with sweat and come. I saw that I'd left a trail of cum on the floor from the bed to the bathroom. It was his. It had oozed out of my ass.

I looked at all the cum on the floor and on my muscle god and tossed the towels back into the bathroom. He lay down on the futon and I attacked all the jizm with my tongue and lips. I licked him clean then sucked all the cum off the floor and into my belly. My muscle god smiled at me when I was finished and beckoned me to join him on the futon at his feet where I knew I belonged and where I was happy to be.

That weekend was amazing for so many reason. My desire to be fucked by him was unending and his sexual appetite was insatiable. We spent the weekend having sex. He fucked me in ways I'd not imagined possible. On Sunday morning he let me fuck his pec cleavage. It was my reward for having been a good little man and licking him clean, not leaving a trace of cum on his body or on his wonderful cock. That had been hard, I'd had to take the head of his cock in my mouth and suck it for almost an hour to catch all the post-cum fluids. By Monday morning I had a serious case of blue ball from having cum more times than I could count. My muscle freak, however, could come at the drop of a hat. He was never spent. He could stay hard for hours. He could fuck for hours, then fuck again. He was my fucking muscle god. Even after my balls ached so badly I could barely stand, he still fucked me. It was on Monday evening that he fucked me for a final time that weekend. The pain in my balls was extreme. They had retracted hours and hours ago and not dropped since. But he fucked me anyway. I was crying from the pain and from the ecstatic pleasure I was feeling from having been expertly fucked non-stop for an hour now. When he came with a force as great has his first orgasm that weekend, if not with greater force. It was the best orgasm I ever had; there was no cum left in my body. It was a total mental orgasm. I experienced an explosion of light and colors in my head and a feeling of mind bending pleasure surged through my body, erasing all the pain taking me seemingly out of my body. I knew God. He was fucking me. •

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