Early days - and nights


By Musclebuff

All the guys who worked at the establishment looked kind of normal. I remarked on this to the Pilot who I passed in the lobby one morning. “He doesn’t want you to get distracted. Not yet anyway!“ With a grin as he walked off.

Even the coach - a rugged and ugly little Italian Bull terrier of a guy who kept his muscles well covered. And was he strong! That little guy threw weights around that even I would have trouble with. The gym was kind of great, but I won’t waste time on the workouts and all that now. They were certainly rigorous - and strange. No cardio was allowed. But food! Every ninety minutes a bell would ring and I had to eat, but I never felt sated, in fact my energies gave a great leap every time and sent me back to the gym twenty minutes later, ready for another punishment at the hands of the Bull Terrier.

Was I growing yet? Not much, I guess. But I was harder, more vascular and more filled with muscle-energy than at any other time of my life. I was eating those workouts up and panting for more. The Bull Terrier hardly ever uttered a word except to berate me for poor style or over-cheating, but he had to calm me down. On those occasions he’d give me a swig from some bottle or other while he demo’d how he wanted me to do the next exercise - all very unconventional but, if how I was feeling was any indication, it worked!

Another thing that was happening was my sex-drive. I was half-hard all the time now. When I was working out, really pushing myself, my dick would rise along with my muscle-energy and sometimes the BT would have to slap it down. Patientia! He would growl. Didn’t seem to make any difference to him.

At the end of the sixth day he said: Tonight Saturday. Boys come home tonight. Enjoy. Make sure you get off many times. Master back

Monday. Be good boy Sunday night, OK? I go to wife in San Diego. Salute! Good boy. Good workouts!

And off he went.

I had my instructions of what and when to eat, but Saturday morning was spent on the beach, lying in the sun, watching them all go by. Some good bodies - more on the women than the men, but a couple of well-built gay guys gave me the eye. I’d got myself off the night before, thinking of that Morph Guy in the picture.

I’d lain naked on the bed, remembering the good time I’d had with the flight guys. But they paled into insignificance as I imagined the Morph Guy standing in front of me, his great dick waving under my nose. Then I got my first surprise. My dick had certainly been reacting during the workouts but the muscle concentration and the BT’s slaps had kept it more or less under control: it had never given me any indication of what was happening now. As I bucked my pelvis towards the Morph Guy the dick started to grow. And grow. Almost up to my pecs. And thicken and thicken. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Neither could my libido which was going crazy.

I reached for some special lube I’d found in a drawer: my fuck-pole really needed three hands to encompass it now but, with the lube (which turned out to be VERY special, of the icy-hot variety) two of them did OK. I bucked and bucked. I’d never felt such sextacy in my life and when I came, I fontana’d a huge jet to the ceiling - a jet which spasmed and spasmed for minutes and sent me over the moon.

But far from being exhausted by this magnificent effort, my libido was demanding yet more. MY dick was softening, but losing nothing of its length. It’s softer pliability felt marvelous. I stuck one fist down my back between my glutes while the other forced the snake between my legs where the back fist grabbed it and rammed it up my own fuck-chute. THEN it got hard. I don’t know if it was the dick or me, but it behaved like a thing possessed, ramming in and out of that welcoming but tight butt-hole which was aching to be fucked for the first time in its life.

My pelvis was rocking back and forth, the snake was ramming in and out, one fist driving it in from behind, the other was pressing down hard in front on the root of the monster, persuading it to go even deeper. How does it feel to be fucking yourself with a twenty inch dick? I tell you, it, was like my whole body was a fucking penis. I heaved and lurched all over that King-sized bed, becoming a one-man monstrous orgasm. Which it was. That dick rammed itself up me further than ever known to man and found some cavern to explode. I could feel the icy-hot gism jetting into every part of my body which seemed to be drinking it all in with such fucking greed.

I pulled it out and pretzled myself to suck the residue out of the still wide open piss-hole while my fist went right into my ass in a desperate search for my joy-button which had already been so stimulated (twice) that you’d expect it to have gone off duty. But, as I pinched it - hard - “everything” seemed to cum to life again! I pulled out and leapt off the bed, so fucking full of energy. I wanted to see its full glory from the front in the full-length mirror. It was a fucking tree-trunk, like the guy’s in the picture.

But I wasn’t like the guy in the picture. Or was I - just a bit? My eyes were so bright I looked almost crazy and, as I caressed the newly-thickening pole, yes I was a bit bigger. Certainly harder and fuller. Sheened with sweat and cum, every hard muscle was beautifully high-lit and, just at the minute, my veins were skittering over my huge delts and bis like snakes.. I started to jerk off again, but suddenly the cock went soft and retracted just a little. That was when, as I looked at myself in the mirror, I remembered why I had come to the States - and I remembered that not everyone had made it here - I also remembered that my diet sheet suggested I should get “a good night’s sleep after taking the suggested night-cap” which I would find in the little kitchen. There it was. Nice and warm, and I drank it all down gratefully. Sank on to my bed and was asleep before my head hit the pillow. •

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