Total Fusion

By Musclebuff

With thanks, first, to Dave the Dreamer of Artists' Dreams for his vision and talent; then to Kiwi Mike, Freaker, Master N, John of the Exaggerations, Pete, and all the other artists who go such a long way to fulfilling our fantasies. And to the guys who give them - and us - a platform on their websites. Thanks, guys - this is for you.

One of the protagonists may be easy to recognize - the other was splendid before his time and has recently re-appeared in one of Pete's Morphs, bending his bow in the hills of Colorado.

His great thick schlong waved over my face as I lay with my head hanging over the end of the bed. His giant bulk towered over me as I gawped up at him from my ants' eye view: my eyes traveled up across the climbing rock-cliff of his thick abs, with the grand canyons running between them, to the huge thickness of his overhanging pecs, with their inch-thick man-nips, the sight of which nearly made me cum on the spot. Practically the last thing I saw was his nutsack descending like a crane past my eyes as his monstrous, striated thighs closed in to squeeze each side of my face and the semi-tumescent fuck-pole insisted its way into my greedy, waiting mouth.

We had only just begun and already I was halfway to heaven: those soft-steel quads clamped my head into position and my hands reached out to grab and squeeze those mighty slabs of pec-meat as he leaned forward on to the bed so as to insert his dick firmly and deeply into my throat. My lips and tongue closed obediently upon it and slobbered obscenely around it as it forced its way past my uvula, flattening my tongue into submission.

I gagged.

"Yeah, boy, gag! That's what you're supposed to do! Learn to live with it and breathe!"

For a moment the fat snake withdrew so that I could enjoy sucking on the thick mushroom corona, but only for a moment before it was rammed back down my throat. Already I could feel it getting thicker and longer - the harder it got, surprisingly, the easier it was for me to cope with my breathing as I serviced it on its way in and out of its insistent throat-fuck. Then he made matters worse by sucking on my throbbing eleven inches. (Jeez, how am I going to sustain this without cumming too soon?)

After what seemed like half an hour, I guess the giant decided he was ready for better things. I whimpered impotently as he pulled out of me. At least I could half sit up on my elbow and see the power and beauty of the muscle-god the right way up. His great, hard butt tensed as he leaned forward to grab a gob of lube to anoint his throbbing, 18 inch long dick. The lats spread wide as he bent down to slam the drawer closed. Then the glory turned and shone its full light upon me.

He bent over and grabbed my ankles to pull me around the other way to face him. He opened my legs and tucked them around that tight, steely waist, indicating I should lock them hard. He hoisted me up a few inches and the mighty questing rod found its way to my eager pucker.......

How did I get into all this? I guess my somewhat success as a heavyweight in the Junior Nationals that year had brought me to the attention of some IFBB officials - anyway, they saw fit to invite me to the Olympia to "help out" backstage. You can imagine how eagerly I leapt at the chance to "help out". My position, "helping out", soon revealed itself as Number One Oiler Up in the pump-up room.

Show-off as I am, I was wearing the tightest and skimpiest muscle-top and jeans, hoping to let everyone know there was an Olympian in the making here among them. Now, of course, I cursed the day I put those quad-tight jeans on and spent a lot of time praying that I wouldn't reveal myself and my true feelings in the presence of all that Olympian muscle. If I could just contain my dick between my legs, all might be well. But squatting down to oil the inside of a muscle-god's legs was not the best thing to do to keep a rampant dick in place between the legs and a hot, fast sausage soon found its way down the already-too-tight leg of my jeans.

I am just over six feet, 220 pounds of hard muscle, golden all over, with buzz-cut and green eyes, but luckily all the muscle-gods were too involved in themselves and what they looked like in the mirrors to notice me, let alone bother about some insignificant little Oiler-Up's erection. Most of them started warming up, fully-covered, and it was only when they felt sufficiently warm that they began to disrobe and demand attention. Was this to be my Waterloo?

If you've ever been near an Olympian pump-up room, you would know that their bulk is stupefying huge in comparison to even the super-heavy-weights of a national NPC contest. To oil them up turns out not to be even remotely sensual: you run your hands across all those hard, huge striations and only marvel at how they have been achieved.

Hoping soon to be a pro' myself, I took professional pride in ensuring that each and every one of them was sufficiently and correctly gleaming, that their muscles had the requisite sheen without risking that the lights would reflect them out of existence. Eventually some senior official in a suit came in to check up on their appearance: "A little more here, a little less there." and the spraying and dabbing continued almost up to the moment of their appearance on stage.

So, all was well - I lost my early erection and acquitted myself quite well, though hardly one of the Ungrateful Greats even said thank you. The exceptions to these bad manners were Jay C. and the German Gunther-God who were both gracious and complimentary, both about the oil and my own muscle.

Had that just been the case, all would have been well but...

There was this one guy, six foot, blonde, crew-cut, massive, who talked to me all the time I was oiling him up. I discovered that this was only his second pro' show and already he was an Olympian - and the youngest one of the lot. I found this out when another teased him about being the runt of the litter. He grinned at me and when his dark blue eyes met mine I was done for. He held the look for at least three beats longer than he should have done, then dropped his eyes to my jeans where my feelings were making themselves all too plain.

"Later, pal! later!" he muttered in an undertone. And that was that. Though when we went through the whole tortuous process again for the evening show, I found being with him very tricky indeed, and he had the grace not to look at or talk to me.

That night, his first Olympia, he made twelfth. I know he wanted to be in the top five, but twelfth, your first time! And he left many more distinguished names straggling after him.

That night, at the banquet, I was at the buffet table, keeping a weather eye open for him when the same deep voice said behind me:

"Give me an hour. Exactly an hour. Room 594. Don't be late."

Here was I, a Junior USA class winner off a farm in Wisconsin among the aristocracy of the bodybuilding world, and yet I had eyes for no one. I hardly ate a thing - didn't think I'd keep down what I did eat.

But I wasn't late - not one minute late.

And here I am, with his dick about to thrust itself - WOW! ONE mighty thrust and he's in to the hilt! Somehow my innards opened up to receive the onslaught without pain - only surprise! And, Jeez! What a fuck of an onslaught!

I grab his huge, steely triceps as he places his hands on each side of my head and starts his piston pump up my rear end. While his sapphire-blue eyes hypnotize my green ones, his mountainous pecs rub up and down on mine, his face only about three inches away. I tighten my big quads around his waist and start to buck my pelvis up and down to meet his thrusts, giving him as good as he's giving me.

I feel his dick swelling and swelling till my channel is as tight as it can be around the pumping mechanism of his fuck-rod. His tongue descends to fuck my mouth: I wrap mine around it and suck greedily as he tastes my soul. I move my hands to grab as far around his back as those huge bat-wing lats will let me. I pull myself up so that his pecs are fucking mine and my dick is channeled and squeezed in the vertical chasm between his abs.

I do everything I can to be clenched as close as possible to his huge throbbing muscular frame. His whole body becomes a dick, and mine becomes the muscle-pussy embracing it. We seem to melt into one, and, as we do so, I can feel his whole body swelling - not just his dick, but every one of his muscles seems to be inflating and getting harder. I groan into his mouth in orgasmic wonder.

He pulls his mouth off mine and stops fucking just long enough to speak.

"Yes, pal, I'm getting bigger - I always do when I fuck - but I can feel you're getting bigger too! The more I can fuck into you, the bigger you're gonna grow!"

"Then let's fuck!" I yell as I ram my pelvis down on to his massive rod. This seems to prime the engine of the jack-hammer which gets fucking in real earnest!

I can feel my delts pulling slowly outward and my lats spreading unbidden far beyond their normal wingspan. My pecs ram into his and both sets of swelling muscles compete against each other. My arms start to get too big to hold on to him with any purchase, whereas my legs seem to be endued with extra power as I squeeze them around his throbbing torso.

His groans through our tongue-fuck tell me that he hasn't got far to go now and I start fucking his abs with real purpose, squeezed tight as it is between our clenching abs - tight as is his up my butt. The upward lurches of my swollen dick between his abs coincide with his cuckold pulling almost out of me; my downward pulls help to force him right up into the core of my being. Sheeit, it feels so good to get fucked by this monster! Our bodies are so slick with sweat and passion that it takes all our strength to hold on to each other as our mutual muscle-sap starts to rise and our pair of volcanoes threaten to erupt.

I can feel his gism roaring out of his balls and up my chute as I can feel mine doing the same in his ab-fuck-clench. Our mouths separate, his blue eyes look in wonder into my green ones and, as the torrents roar through our dicks, and his jets so hard into me, we both roar in an ecstasy of extreme passion.

He collapses his full 280 pounds on top of my 220, even as our mutual torrents are still pouring out of our dicks. Our abs spasm together in extremis for minutes on end.

And then it happens.

Everything goes dark and out bodies, still cloven together, seem to levitate off the bed.

"Hold on. Lover," he whispers, "this is the best bit! This is how you get to be really huge!"

Our cloven bodies rise into the air and suddenly a mighty gust of wind seems to blow us off the face of the earth and into the cosmos. We are hurtling through space, these two huge clumps of muscle and dicks, turning in the air as we go.

We are up in the stars before I realize he's no longer with me: with a deep sense of loss I clutch my own muscles until some sense of survival causes me to spread my arms, Icarus-like, to fly with the air stream. Suddenly I am intoxicated, certain that these air currents are somehow going to guide me to wherever he is.

Jet-propelled by some extreme desire for muscle and yet more muscle, I am a shooting star which seems to be charting its way towards some kind of destiny as I fly through this dreamscape, past strange moons which silver the deserts and jungles beneath me. Heady musk-like scents rise to intoxicate me further and I am filled with this desire for super-muscle as my balls churn and silver pre-cum flashes by in the slipstream past my ears. Other shooting stars which pass me seem to be filled with muscle-guys with a similar silvery trail.

Finally, some great wordless male chorus ringing in my ears, I swoop down through the purple treetops towards a glow in the forest. A moment later I see him - towering magnificently above me, at least two heads taller than he had been - I am delivered into those huge arms and immediately we are swept upwards, clutched between those bis and those pecs, sitting astride his huge fuckpole. Up, up, up we go, scenery whistling past us. Our ascent slows and finally I am set down before him, almost at the peak of a mountain.

The warm air embraces me as I take a step back to gaze at my deliverer where he stands, glowing with gold, muscular perfection. Engulfed with a desire to be One with this Super-muscle, I fall to my knees before the flexing god. His hard dick is streaming with pre-cum as he gently inserts it between my lips which gratefully suck up his muscle-elixir.

At once I feel myself renewed, invigorated, and my own dick seems to want to burst with desire as my nuts churn more intensely than I have ever known them. I roll my tongue and lips around his corona, attempting to suck the whole sex-meat into my throat but he pulls me up to my feet where, even at my full height, my lips and eyes are only level with the man-tits at the climax of his huge pecs. His hand on the back of my head pull my face towards them and I eagerly start to suck on their hard thickness, running my hand round the amazing girth of his pec-meat.

He moves me over to other nip and, this time, he groans as I start to bite it gently while still sucking. I look up into those eyes and spread my hands as wide as they will go across the mighty slabs, squeezing them between my own muscular palms. I am lifted off the ground as he pulls me up to kiss me. I lock my arms around his huge rock-like bulk and give my soul to him in our kiss.

"I know what you want, and now you shall have it!" These are the first words he has spoken since I "arrived" and they fill me with an insatiable desire to be one with him.

He turns me around, puts his arms under my armpits and lifts me up so that my ever-willing butt is level with his questing fuckrod. I open up wide as he pushes right into me. All I can do, with my feet off the ground, is clutch the arms that are wrapped around me as he starts the cosmic fuck of all time.

My previous experience with him had been amazing enough, but now his huge muscle-dick is stretching and filling me to unbelievable dimensions as he thrusts in and out. Cum starts to gush out of me almost at once and I groan in the height of an ecstasy I have never known before. Not only is his muscle pumping into me through his dick, but, as my back leans into his chest and abs, I feel as if it is assimilating my entire being.

One of his hands is now clutched around my nuts and dick which continue to pump out unimaginable, unbridled torrents of cum as his thrusts grow more and more violently demanding. He bites into my traps, yelling as he does so. His hand clenches violently around the core of my being and I feel the flood gates open within me. Hot gushers of man-cum force their way into me, permeating every fiber of my being.

I move my hands to clutch the steely striations of his great glutes, trying to force him even deeper into me. At the height of all this passionate emission he groans into my ear:

"Now you will always feel me with you: when you fuck I'll be fucking you, when you're fucked, you'll feel my dick filling the length of your own. Now you belong to me forever."

Even as he speaks, I feel our bodies becoming one: every muscle of every limb seems to melt into the other. I lean back into him and feel his huge bulk filling my total muscular frame. Somehow our lips join and our tongues curl into each other's - somehow our eyes meet and, as they do, we finally become one.

I close my eyes and the world goes dark. I am filled with a muscular and spiritual elation and, as I seem to continue to lean back into him, I am once more caught up in that rushing cosmic wind and whirled away......

The sun is shafting its rays across my forehead as I awake.....

I'm alone. But I don't feel alone. He's not here. It looks as if the bed has only been slept in by one - me. Something is exciting me - I can tell that because my schlong is rising to unusual proportions as I gather my wits.

I leap out of bed to the mirror. There it is! Someone who's me and yet not me. He's huge. Even bigger than my friend of last night. My eyes are no longer green, nor blue, but a kind of aqua-marine. And the muscle! Shit, man, it's way beyond what either of us was last night: as if both sets of muscle had been added, no, fused together to make this new guy in the mirror.

Blue eyes or green, the head and hair are mine - there's a resemblance to the delts, but they're far wider and more striated than mine were. The pecs are way bigger than mine were, and the long, thick stiff nips are definitely his. My International Male eight-pack has grown into his mountain range six-pack and I recognize the vertical chasm between them. The waist is otherwise mine - narrower than his - so are the hips. But the quads! The quads! that huge sweep and waist-size thickness (my waist size) definitely his! So are the out-of-this-world calves

I can't see the back - yes I can, obliquely in the dressing table mirror across the room: the lats have my sweep to the waist but with his huge thickness. I flex the biceps: they were bigger than his last night but now they have his orgasm-creating cleft in the middle of them. My side chest and "best" triceps reveal the same huge thickness.

All these similarities, yet I continue to be struck by the fact that I - we - are considerably bigger than either of us were last night. I AM HUGE!

Bigger even than Golden Gunther when he beat Ronnie Coleman! Somehow someone has added my lover's superior thickness to my superior aesthetic shape and the result is not only amazing but sensually monstrous.

The dick is as thick as his, but longer and I can't resist doing what it's telling me: grab and stroke - jerk off for us both in the mirror. As I start fucking my wrist I can feel his pole fucking me as he promised I would. This is too much for me and I am soon jetting great gobs of cum, endlessly, high up on the mirror in front of this muscular marvel. As it starts to slide slowly down the glass I lean forward and slurp it up to find if it tastes like his - as soon as I do this I see him showing up through a transparent me and I hear a voice....

"Told ya I'd be great, dude! How d'ya feel now then?" And I feel his lips on mine in the mirror as I feel a great thunderous fuck thrust up my ass.

"Total fusion, boy! Total fusion! Now it's up to you to get out there and beat the best of them!"

As I swallowed the last of his - my - cum he fades. No, he doesn't fade, he retreats into me and I feel my whole body, inside and out, quiver with excitement as I take on the responsibility.

What the hell are the guys at the gym back home in Wisconsin going to say when they see me changed like this? What are you on, mate? What happened out there? Who did you have to fuck to get like this?

What the hell! I don't care what they think! I'm just going to live and workout and fuck and eat and fuck (I'm going to need to feel him fuckin' me on a regular basis!) and work out until it's time to qualify for the next Olympia. Then we'll see who's the golden god - Jay C, Gunther, or me (us)?

Meanwhile I can't keep my hands off myself and my muscle. I could so easily cum hourly, just by feeling my biceps and pecs and squeezing my nips... So I do! And we meet again in the mirror.

Then I squeeze this new muscle into the hopelessly inadequate clothes I have with me. But I don't care if the T-shirt stops at my navel and my jeans only reach up as far the top of my pubes. Nor do I care that my quads split the seams of the jean - looks pretty cool to me.

The new me decides to go downstairs for breakfast - let the Olympians get a good look..........................

Then I'll find someone to play with before I catch my plane back to Wisconsin..........I want to see what happens, what it feels like when I'm fuckin' some other poor unsuspecting muscle guy!

Wonder who it'll be?! •

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