He'd come to depend on having at least one big man around to fuck regularly. Even his older foster brothers didn't have enough mass for his liking, and so he spent the rest of the day in a deep funk feeling sorry for himself. He couldn't figure out why it bothered him so much, after all, a few of the linebackers, who actually seemed to enjoy Tony's attentions, were somewhat bigger than the Coach, so why did it even matter to him? Was it his more mature approach to satisfying Tony, even though every sexual encounter with Tony was one of resignation and token resistance rather than cheerful cooperation. "Hmmmm.., maybe that's it," thought Tony. "Maybe I just like the little fight he puts up. Well, fuck it -- it doesn't matter -- what I need most of all (or so he thought) is a really big coach. How the hell can I…….? Ah-h-h-h." Light bulb! For the first time ever, he sent himself to the Principal's office, except that now it was the office of the President, who he found out would be in charge of setting up a search for a replacement coach. Barging in, clad in his best set of posers, with one ball fully exposed and a tank which covered very little on top, he flexed his considerable muscle and threw out - almost literally - the two faculty members present and presented his plan -- namely, that the school needed a new coach a.s.a.p. ("I'm quite aware of …." began the President, but then he remembered some of the stories he'd heard….), and that he, Tony continued, would be the entire Search Committee. He'd set the search criteria, which he specified right then and there: height, weight, body fat, 1-rep max for squats (What good would he be without a nice muscle-ass, reasoned Tony…?) - all the essentials. No coaching experience necessary -- why narrow down the field? He'd do the interviews, and he'd do the hiring. End of discussion.

At first, the President simply nodded his head stupidly. In actuality, he hadn't heard a word Tony had said since he recalled certain bits of history -- of how Tony had used the high school Principal's butt as a form of unpleasant persuasion and to satisfy his sexual needs at the same time. From that moment on, the only thought in his head, which effectively prevented all further input, was the possibility that he might be in for the same treatment. He'd hoped to avoid any and all confrontations with the man, but suddenly, here He was, and instead of listening to what he was saying, the middle-aged President found himself staring distractedly at the huge bulge that had been thrust in his face when Tony walked right up to his chair, thinking about how much it might hurt if it were to be thrust elsewhere. Thus, he had nothing to say when Tony was finished.

"Hey, Boss. Ya with me or what?"

"Huh? Oh, right, uh-h-h, what was that?"

So Tony had to repeat himself - for the last time ever, it turns out. "The main criterion is size. He's gotta be over 250 pounds, and the leaner the better." The President was quite disbelieving of what he was hearing and kept shaking his head harder and harder as the proposition was laid down. His mind now shifted to more familiar territory - the business of running a school. "That's preposterous! We can't possibly do that; makes no sense whatsoever. Totally ridiculous!" By this time he was sputtering at the absurdity of the whole situation. "Tell you what," said Tony, "While you're thinking this over, let's relax and have a little fun." The President had a sinking sensation of the kind of fun Tony meant, and in spite of repeated protests of "No, No, Please don't…, I can't. I didn't even call you in here," and such -- he even tried to leave the office --, Tony was not dissuaded and was soon riding the little man, sprawled face-down across his very large and highly waxed mahogany desk. It only took a minute or two for an agreement to be reached, but once Tony gets into something, he's in for the duration, and it wasn't until well after the final bell of the day, with all the office workers gone, that Tony was ready to stop, but not until he had coated the prone President, along with his beautiful desk, with his own, very personal, brand of wax.

The job announcement was sent out the next day -- Tony made sure of that, strolling in at 8 AM and promising the President a repeat of yesterday's performance if the announcement wasn't ready before his dick got fully hard. The office staff was the picture of efficiency. Soon, the applications flooded in, many suggesting very respectable physical characteristics. Three men, in particular, boasted such huge numbers that Tony's mind was veritably drooling with anticipation, as was his cock, as he stared at their stats. But once he got over his initial surprise, it occurred to him that the numbers were bordering on unbelievable -- one being, quite honestly, much too good to be true. He was about to toss those three into the trash, figuring they had grossly padded their stats just to get the interview, but then thought, "What if one of them is real?" Not willing to risk missing out on something so good, he decided to take a look, but he already felt some anger building at the thought of wasting his time checking out would-be muscle-giants and quickly decided that if they weren't as they'd billed themselves, he'd express his discontent by simply fucking the bejesus out of them until he got tired -- and Tony didn't tire easily.

What made Tony especially suspicious of the top three candidates (by size), and especially excited as well, was that the biggest of the three was actually, on paper, bigger than Tony, who had started this year with the stats on par with the biggest of bodybuilders, and he'd grown some since. Now at 6-foot five, he would still be looking up into the eyes of the 6-foot eight Mr. Thayer (..everyone just calls me Mac, he'd written). More impressively, not even Tony's massive, protruding 61" chest could measure up to Mac's remarkable 68" (Tony was having trouble even picturing what that might look like!); nor could his astounding 28" bi's and 42" quads match up against the new coach's (he hoped…) 30" guns and meaty 45" logs for thighs. And if he could really squat 1500 lbs…..

Tony was sitting in the coach's office reviewing the specs of the first candidate, awaiting his arrival, and was having trouble focusing on the upcoming interview, lost, as he was, thinking about how it would feel to lodge his hard, thick rod in between muscle-cheeks that could push that much weight, when he heard the secretary knocking. Figuring that Mac was here, Tony swiveled the chair to face the door, clasped his hands up behind his head and gave his arms and upper body a few good flexes, then crossed his legs and the ankles and stretched out his legs, squeezing his thighs together and pushing his sex -- about half of which was covered by his posers -- into fullest prominence. His balls were about as big as they got since he hadn't as yet relieved the overnight buildup, and his little maneuver had pushed most of his meat out from the confines of his posers which now covered only one ballsack and the head of his very ready cock. He wanted to make damn sure this new dude knew who was in charge, no matter how big he thought he was. "Yeah?" She opened the door and peeked in, gagged a bit on her own sudden intake of breath at the sight she beheld, finally crackling out, "Mr. Thayer's here." He gave her his finest arrogant smirk. "Send him in -- I'm ready."

He wasn't. Tony had figured that since all he cared about was the guy's body, he wanted to get a damned good look right away, so when the huge interviewee arrived, he was given some clothing and was told to change in the locker room before the interview. Tony had picked out the most stretchy posing trunks and most revealing XXXX-tank he could find, figuring that if the numbers were accurate then it was the perfect outfit, and if the dumb-ass had been faking it he'd look plain stupid and Tony would proceed immediately to Plan B.., or 'F', as the case may be. But as it turned out, the guy was for real, so when he stepped inside -- sideways -- he didn't even try to walk through face-first -- there was really no point --when he got inside, Tony froze in disbelief, in shock…, in amazement….., in complete and total adulation. All plans, all thoughts, were replace by simple awe. His attention was drawn immediately to the gigantic chest -- partly because it was simply too big to avoid looking at it ("Fuck me -- it really IS bigger than mine…"), but because the tank that should have covered it -- a little -- wasn't there. Then he saw it. It simply could not accommodate the massive pec/lat/back structure and had split down the front when Mac tried to put it on. Tony finally found the remnants -- thin strips of cloth being stretched by the man's thick back structure across and through the valley between the large mounds of delt muscle and the larger hills of trap muscle and down through his arm pits. Soon his eyes were traveling up one ridge of muscle after another and down the sharply cut valleys in between, and even from a distance he could tell that this chest was hard enough to bounce bullets off, too. “You’re hired,” he thought(…it didn't take him long to make that decision) .

Tony had yet to move a muscle since the new coach moved into view, so busy was he visually worshipping every hard, striated, rippling bulge and fiber on the magnificent specimen before him, and he had not yet realized that within about two seconds of Mac's appearance, his cock had flipped out of his trunks, saluting the visitor by quickly hardening to its full sixteen inches, and was generously bathing his abs with precum, sending occasional spurts up between his pecs.

Mac finally put away his severe look and chuckled at the effect he was having, which broke up Tony's visual trip down Muscle-Sex Lane. He stood up but otherwise didn't move. After another quick scan of all essential body parts, he looked the muscle-freak in the eyes and asked, partly in an effort to regain the upper hand, "Can you do anything with all those bulging muscles of yours -- or are they just for show?" Mac looked around and spotted a few weight plates on the floor. He picked up a ten-pound plate and holding it with both hands, folded it neatly in half, seemingly quite easily. "Hmmph!" snorted Tony. Then, using one thumb and index finger, he neatly creased the folded edge before giving it a turn and folding it once again -- into quarters, and creasing it as well. A smaller snort followed. Finally, he put the quartered plate into one palm and slowly closed his fist around it and squeezed, mutilating it beyond recognition, veins and muscle fibers popping up and rippling across his thick forearm as he did so.

Tony was impressed, and so was his cock, which started to ejaculate on its own without warning, eliciting an "Unh!" from Tony who strained to cut off the flow. Trying to ignore this little concession to the supreme manliness of the rock-like mass in front of him, he continued with his eye-worship, coming to rest finally on Mac's decidedly above-average endowment, an endowment that Tony saw getting fuller and firmer as it grew downward, still held in place by the stretchable fabric of his posers. "Good," thought Tony, "…looks like he won't have any objection…." Then he moved around to what looked like the side of a granite-hard butt, his mind awash with ecstatic visions of lodging his own length of granite between the steep, hard valley walls still hidden from his view. He was starting to count the seconds before implantation when he asked himself a rhetorical question -- "Where the Hell have you been….?"

Unfortunately, it came out as a soft whisper, to which Mac responded. He slowly moved towards Tony, and around to one side As he did so, Tony moved also, to keep facing his prey. "Maybe you haven't been looking in the right places." He was now making an overt visual assessment of Tony's qualities, which he was always eager to show off, so when Mac placed his palm on one shoulder to hold him still as he walked around behind, Tony let him. Besides, his mind was still in a fog of sorts, and he wasn't being very analytical at this point. "And where's that," he asked, a bit dazedly." As Mac took one final step behind Tony, he threw his left arm around Tony's abs, and catching him totally off guard, pulled him back hard against his massive chest, firmly wedging his rapidly stiffening cock into Tony's ass crack, and then grabbed Tony's leaking cock with his right hand, squeezing it very hard as he said, "Right behind you," and pressed his thickening dick deeper into Tony's rear cleavage. Caught so totally unawares, Tony completely lost control for the first time ever and unloaded strongly, and copiously, onto the Coach's desk.

After the fountain action had ceased, Mac was still firmly holding onto both Tony and his cock. "Impressive. Very impressive indeed," he offered. Then he slid his very slime-covered hand up off the tip of Tony's cock, up across the right pec muscle, finally holding it in front of Tony's face. "Clean me off," he commands. His mind still beclouded by the sensation of the now very thick, very stiff meat filling the length of his butt valley, Tony did as told. Mac finally released Tony, turned him around and stated: "So - I suppose I'm hired? I'm ready to start right away."

Whoa - not so fast! Bad precedent here -- how come he's the one taking the initiative? Tony's plan had been to test-drive his butt first, and hire him second. He tried to salvage the situation. He tried Mac's approach and started moving around to his backside saying, "Well, uh, sure but -- no need to rush things; I thought we'd have a little fun here before you get to work." He was about to make his move when Mac, who had recognized Tony's ploy -- and his interest, ("Good --he wants me -- I think I'll make him wait….") cut it short. He turned to face Tony.

"Maybe later - I've gotta find a place to stay first."

Disappointed at his lack of instant gratification, still, here was a good opening. In short order it was arranged -- Mac would spend the night at Tony's place. Tony was leaving the office, thinking about which athlete he'd use to satisfy his immediate need to fuck, when Mac, who seemed to be able to read Tony's intentions, said, "You must've nearly emptied your tanks just now, so I think you'd better use the rest of the day to recharge -- I like my partners hard. All over." Tony stared hard at Mac but said nothing, and left with a huge scowl on his face. He was pissed. "Who the fuck does he think he is -- telling me when I can fuck or not?...Damn him!" The 'Damn him' was because Tony knew that he had to have sex with this hunk of hard, bulging muscle, and he knew that if he pissed the guy off, he'd probably refuse to have sex and what's worse -- he was afraid the guy might just be strong enough to back it up. When it came down to it, the 'damn him' was because Tony wasn't in control of the situation, making it twice in one day…, hm-m-m, make that three times, that he'd lost control, putting him in a very dark mood for the rest of the day.

But that all changed when Mac drove in and parked by the barn. Tony was ready with his self-assured smile back in place. This was his territory now. The tide was about to turn. When Mac stepped out of his car, Tony motioned to follow him into the barn, turned and walked inside - he wasn't about to give him any openings. Mac was visibly impressed by the array -- and size of equipment he had. "I thought we'd pump up a bit beforehand."

"Great idea," said Mac as he headed for the incline bench. Tony followed. Mac turned, stepped towards Tony. He raised one arm, placing the palm of his hand around the back of Tony's head and in a quiet, deep, sultry voice began to speak, as he very slowly started pulling Tony’s head forward. "When I'm near the top of the rep, squeezing all that huge, fuckin' weight up for that last half-'n-inch, I love to look down as I give that last hard flex to my upper pecs -- and watch all those fibers jump out as the whole top half of my chest bulges way the fuck out……., don't you?" He kept drawing Tony's face - which had a trance-like expression -- down closer to the mass of striated fibers dancing across his enormously jutting mounds of chest muscle that he kept in constant, rippling motion as Tony watched, ogled, gulped, and finally tried to lick. Just as he did, Mac suddenly pushed him away; "Uh, uh, uh-h-h-h…. Later. For now it's time to work." He turned away to load the bar, hearing, with great satisfaction, Tony's frustrated expulsion of breath. He chuckled quietly to himself.

After a few warm-ups, he asked, "…about 800 OK with you?" Now Tony was impressed; this guy was talking numbers in his territory -- NOBODY else handled weights like that. They took turns, and as Tony watched Mac grind out the last, pull-out-all-the-stops rep, he found himself hypnotized by the way the upper pecs bulged upwards and clenched tightly together at the completion of each rep; he realized that he was staring at Mac the way the "little" guys stared at him while doing the same exercise. He didn't like being the one being impressed. ("Damn! Get over it, you shithead," Tony reprimanded himself.)

Mac wasn't done. After lowering the now 1000-pound bar to his chest, he got up off the bench and said, "Well, my chest might be tired out, but my shoulders aren't," and started doing Military Presses with the same weight. "Can't have the chest all pumped up without shoulders to match, right?" Tony watched with, he reluctantly admitted, a slight degree of awe, as the already well-separated delt muscles filled with blood, deepening the valleys in between. "Your turn, Bud." Tony finished his set mumbling to himself - he couldn't match Mac's performance. "Hey, it doesn't matter -- you still got a good pump, right," Mac chuckled. ("Fuck you," thought Tony.)

"How 'bout one more thing -- hm-m-m, gotta be squats," he declared. Tony went first, and then he put on more weight than Tony's 1-rep max. "I think just one easy set ought to do it -- you don't mind if I squat naked, do you?" he asked as he started to pull off his shorts. ("Now this is getting promising," thought Tony.) "Naw -- 'course not." So Mac began. Tony didn't notice the perfect form of his below-parallel reps -- after the first rep he'd walked around behind Mac where he found himself hypnotized once again -- he was finally getting a good look at what he had dreamed about -- the biggest, hardest set of ass muscles he could ever ask for, and Mac seemed intent on showing them off, crunching his thighs and glutes harder than he needed to at the top of each rep. After watching just one rep from behind, Tony was at full-mast, his heart beating faster in anticipation of what he knew was coming next. After two reps, he was throbbing. After the next rep, it got even better.

"Hey -- I'd like to do some forced reps here -- gimme a spot, would'ja? I'm gonna need some help on the next one." Tony's eyes lit up. "Sure thing, man." Getting up close behind Mac, Tony put his hand on Mac's waist and moved down in synch with Mac's motion, his rigid, leaking cock almost in contact with Mac's most attractive crevice. On the way up, as he assisted Mac a bit, the sensitive, meaty underside of his cock brushed along the wiry ass hairs, producing an unexpected inhalation of breath. Mac had grunted hard on that one. "I'll need more help next time -- get in closer." ("Awww fuck, yeah…. This guys wants me. Ba-a-a-a-d! Heh, heh, heh.") "Yeah. Sure thing." He moves closer. On the way down, his dick now made contact with some very firm skin, and at the bottom, when Mac tensed his muscles for the ascent, Tony felt his cock get clenched within the deep butt valley, producing an immediate surge of precum -- and then they began to rise. Mac seemed to be having difficulty, so Tony gradually exerted more force with his arms, simultaneously pressing this cock deeper into Mac's butt, the lubrication from Tony's precum allowing him a little up and down movement within the granite vice, the pressure getting stronger as they approached the top, at which point Mac clenched his ass, and Tony's cock, hard! -- provoking an "Unhhh!" from both of them. Tony was astounded at how good it felt. He wanted more. "Again!" ("OK. Great!" thought Tony. "A couple more like this and I'll ram it home and show this bastard what fucking is all about!" He was brimming with confidence now.)

And so they did, and with each rep, Mac seemed to clench Tony harder, and each time Tony came closer to orgasm, but he was too overwhelmed by the feelings to realize just how close he was -- and at the top of the fourth forced rep, Mac clenched hard and didn’t let go, Tony couldn't help it. He was caught by surprise for the second time today ("Oh fuck -- no-o-o-o, not again…"). But it was too late. As Mac stood still, still holding the squat bar on his traps, and smiling, knowing what was about to happen, Tony unloaded all over his back, and clear up into his hair. Tony tried to pull out so he could cut off the flood, but Mac’s ass muscles were too strong -- he kept Tony firmly in place until the orgasm had run its course. Tony couldn't remember having enjoyed a climax more -- nor could he remember ever being more pissed at himself. ("How could I let this be happening?") Once again, his new coach was in control.

Maybe so, but Mac was ready to lose control himself just where it counted most. Each time he’d clenched Tony’s cock, his own best friend was busily coating itself with copious amounts of precum as it vibrated in its need. While Tony was erupting over his back, Mac was attend to his own dick’s needs, but what it most needed right now was release. “Hey Tony -- you’re having all the fun…,” he said as he loosened his glute grip. In a surprise move, he suddenly reversed positions with Tony, and with one arm firmly around Tony’s waist and the other holding his own cock for aiming purposes, he completed his sentence: “… I’m next.” Obviously a man of some experience, he hit the bull’s eye with no trouble at all, and his full nice inches had found its ‘happy place.’

This was quickly followed by a surprised, “SSSs-s-s-s-s…,” as Tony sharply inhaled. Mac then wrapped the other hand around Tony, holding his butt firmly against his own groin and waited. One he got his wits about him, Tony struggled to get free -- to no avail. “You’re not going anywhere, big fella,” whispered his captor in his ear. Tony continued to try to extricate himself from what he regarded as an embarrassing situation, but Mac got this attention with a rapid withdrawal and a second Slam Dunk! Tony hesitated as his body reacted with surprising pleasure, giving Mac time for a couple more, less dramatic thrusts, which turned Tony’s grunts of distress into groans of pleasure, even causing him to relax into Mac’s powerful hold. “Not so bad, is it?” whispered Mac as he picked back up on the gentler fucking, but soon he was picking up steam, driven by the demands of his potent tool. He barely managed to grunt out, “Thi….s’won’t…unh! ….ta..Nnnngh….take…., un-h.., long.” He was right

So Tony got his first ever super-powerful, almost super-human rocket of cum up his ass.("Man -- my Dad was nothing compared to this," he thought.) The two muscle monsters stood there quietly for a while, Tony happy to relax against, and be held up by the muscle-rock behind him; but then…, slowly, both men felt their energy return, both men began to move - one against the other, and both cocks began to re-grow, one inside Tony’s hot, moist cavern and one within Mac’s equally slick, relaxed but firm grip. A few minutes later, Tony suggested they move to his made-for-sex barn loft, and up they went. Tony quickly tried to reassert himself as the dominant male, but Mac wasn’t about to give up easily, and so they wrestled for position. It was clear from the start, even to Tony, who would come out on top.

After an hour or so of satisfying grappling and grunting, both men's bodies slick with sweat and precum, both men's dicks primed for one final eruption for the evening, Mac decided it was time for the final act. With a little maneuvering, he got Tony to land on top of his chest, both men facing the ceiling, and in one quick movement, wrapped both his enormously muscular arms around Tony's chest, pinning his arms to his sides at the same time, and his even more muscular legs around Tony's thighs. Crossing his legs at the ankles, he forced Tony's legs straight out and the rolled them both over, his enormous mass and strength pinning Tony face down on the mattress, with his throbbing cock wedged length-wise firmly between Tony's twin mounds of hard glute muscle.

Surprised by how good it felt to have a large, hard, wet, naked cock lodged between his butt cheeks, Tony relaxed and allowed himself time to enjoy the sensation of this uniquely male pleasure. As nice as it felt (he admitted to himself, much to his own annoyance), he still rebelled against being forced into this position, and so he began to fight it, but Mac's hold was unbreakable, and each time Tony shifted, Mac's dick slid downward a little further, while his cockhead settled in a little deeper. Soon Mac was positioned at Tony's fuck hole, pressing hard as Tony squeezed himself shut. ("I'll be damned if he's getting' in this time!") "Go ahead -- make your move," whispered Mac, knowing that so long as he kept up the pressure, Tony couldn't possibly move without relaxing his butt, and his dick would be deeply entrenched in an instant. Tony lay still, holding the clench tight. Again, Mac put his lips close to Tony's ear, speaking softly, slowly, suggestively -- "Even a big stud like you can't hold it forever --- and I'll be waiting," and as he spoke, he tightened his grip on Tony even more and pressed his cock even harder against Tony's sphincter. Tony understood his predicament and tried to wait Mac out, but Mac's grip never faltered -- his pressure never let up, and finally, Tony's muscles grew too tired to hold Mac off any longer. He gave one last effort to flip out of his grasp -- and lost. Because he had been pushing so hard, the moment Tony relaxed, Mac slammed all the way home without even trying. He held the two of them still until Tony stopped fighting, and said, "Okay -- let's do this my way."

Upon saying that, he began pulling out -- oh.., so…., slowly -- until the ridge of his cock was lodged against Tony's entry way, and then pushed back in even more slowly. It was the last thing Tony expected. He was prepared for, and was waiting for, a second return Slam! Instead, the return trip seemed to take forever. It wasn't just his prostate that was generating wonderful sensations; rather, every inch of his chute seemed highly sensitized. Every point of contact between him and Mac's thick, hard, wet and silky, HOT, pulsating cock sent little explosions of pleasure throughout his body -- and his mind. The fight went out of him. Weeks ago, he'd quietly admitted to himself that it felt pretty good when his foster dad was inside of him, but THIS! "Oh fuck!” Between Mac's size and his know-how.., fuck, there was no comparison! He soon found himself focusing more and more intently on each successive stroke until it seemed like he was swimming in a vat of pleasure, getting intense feelings from every single millimeter of every single thrust, thrusts which, to Tony, seemed to go on for a very…, very…., long… time.

A long time later, as it seemed to Tony, he was quickly approaching his point of no return. He gagged out, "I'm…, nnng.., about to.., Oh, geeze! ….., about to cum, Man…, Nnn-n-n-n-n…. You ready?"

Mac chuckled -- overly loudly. "Man-n-n-…, you got no control at'all, have you? Heck, I've just gotten started," - as he slammed in hard, crashing his own hard nuts into Tony's for emphasis. Tony's shock at hearing this made him lose concentration.., and more. Unwillingly, he came. For Mac's part, he began thrusting faster, keeping in time with Tony's many eruptions before settling back down to what was for him the most enjoyable, most relaxing, most energy-saving, most long-lasting form of fucking he knew. He figured Tony wasn't going to resist further, so he released his grip on his over-sexed but less-than-adept sex partner, and kept himself slightly propped up on his knees and elbows, though still basically lying prone atop his on-the-job trainee, and tried to show Tony that there was more than one way to stick your dick into a willing ass. It took Tony a while to regenerate, but Mac managed to avoid cumming until Tony had once again reached his limit. After being hard for so long, Mac softened quickly after his own climax, and the two men immediately fell asleep.

They slept well; they slept long -- long enough that when Tony awoke, he had a screaming hard-on. He ran his fingers very lightly down his eagerly-waiting rod, which, quite naturally, made him feel very good. He even felt good about having the thickest arm he'd ever imagined wrapped possessively around him, and about being pressed back into the mountains of chest muscle behind him -- he could feel two large, hard nipples against his back, and smiled at the sensation. As he smiled, he planned his attack; he thought about how…, as soon as Mac woke up, he, Tony, was going to quickly seize the initiative and take control. He'd be the one doing the fucking, this day. ("Today, that bastard is going to be my plaything!" he vowed.)

Speaking of playthings, something else felt very good -- something to do with his butt -- there seemed to be something….? He began experimentally clenching his cheeks together until it finally dawned on him that…. ("Oh, fuck! -- he's already got his--"

"Mornin', Sweetheart. I been waitin' for ya." Tony was about to move -- fast, but Mac's hand was even faster. Quite suddenly, it was wrapped loosely around Tony's very alert, very needy dick, and moved slowly, but very assuredly, all the way down the rigid tool, barely whispering its way from the tip to the base. Tony was rendered immobile and hissed loudly as he sucked in and held his breath while the fingers glided expertly, with great control ("Damn him!!") downward.

"Looks like you're ready," noted Mac, and before Tony could even think, let alone react, Mac's thick nine inches was in to the hilt, and as soon as he was in, he moved back and forth slightly, rubbing his dense, wiry pubic hairs hard against Tony's butt. Mac felt Tony's body tense up as he worked hard at avoiding yet another premature ejaculation. Mac then pulled slowly out, his massive muscles still holding the now squirming Tony firmly in place, and spoke equally slowly and quietly into Tony's ear, using the voice of an exasperated father talking down to his bungling son: "Do you think you can manage to keep yourself under control for more than two minutes this morning?"

The insult made Tony furious, causing him to make a sudden, very determined effort to explode out of Mac's grip, but Mac had expected -- and planned for exactly that reaction, and even as he was making that purposefully incendiary remark, he was wrapping his arms and legs around the younger, very powerful yet weaker man, just as he had the night before. So, when Tony made his move, he got exactly --- nowhere.

"Going somewhere, heh, heh,heh?" chuckled Mac, as he slammed back in. "You prefer it hard and fast, don't you?" He got in one more fast, exceedingly hard thrust before…., "AARRRGGHHH! UNNNNNH!" Tony was struggling, twisting, writing, pushing outward with his arms and legs, trying to break Mac's steel-like grip. Nothing. Not an inch.

"Let me know when you're through, Honey," incited Mac. At the same time, he'd been flexing his cock repeatedly, causing it to engorge more and more within Tony's passage of pleasure, and Tony's willingness -- or ability -- to resist was rapidly evaporating.

By nature, Tony abhorred the thought of conceding defeat -- yet again, but at the same time, he couldn't recall ever having felt as good as he did right now; he was on a sexual 'high' beyond any he could remember. Even without touching himself -- he couldn’t, with his arms pinned to his sides -- his cock was harder than he’d thought possible, quivering with need more strongly than ever and producing surge after surge of precum. But what surprised him most was that he felt more sexually alive, more sexually complete, than he’d ever felt before -- all because he, a model of the supreme male physique, a monument to masculine strength and superiority, was being held in check, being controlled, by someone even bigger, stronger--, and as unlikely as it seemed, even more manly. Never one to accept being told what to do, he was now being forced to do things Mac’s way -- and even so, he’d never been this aroused. So when it came down to it, conceding came easily. “O.K.”

Mac grunted his approval, unwrapped himself from Tony but stayed flat out on top of him, with his full weight pressing Tony face down into the mattress, his hands out to the side as if about to do a push-up for balance. With his fully-loaded and primed dick still deeply immersed in Tony’s butt, Mac gave his next directive: “On your knees, Boy!”

A bit foggy from the sexual pleasures he was experiencing, Tony couldn’t quite fathom what to do. Mac knew just what to say: "Can you do anything with all those bulging muscles of yours -- or are they just for show?" That did it. “Fuck you!” he thought, as he immediately, and easily, raised himself, and Mac, up into the air.

“Better.” Mac, now also on his knees, adjusted their heights and settled comfortably into his standard slow -- but not too slow, fucking rhythm, his large, strong hands firmly gripping Tony’s butt, directing the festivities. For the first minute, the action was all on Mac’s part -- Tony was rigidly holding his position, doing nothing. “You dead?” came the deep, annoyed voice from above his head.

“What?” He was confused.

“You think this is all about you, you little fucker?” Tony’s anger revived once again. He tensed up, remaining quite still, going even more rigid. “You haven’t got a clue, have you?” asked Mac, the disbelief evident in his voice. Tony said nothing. “What good is all this ass muscle if you don’t use it for anything?” In frustration, he slammed down on the outsides of Tony’s butt with both hands and ordered, “Squeeze my cock, dammit!”

Tony had one quick thought: “Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do…?” -- but then he did it. “Better. Yeah --now relax.., and squeeze…, Oh, yeah --much better. That’s it -- keep goin’.” Tony eventually figured out that a fella could be deeply involved in the proceedings even from this end and before long was doing very pleasant things to Mac’s cock. Soon Mac finally found himself breathing heavily, enjoying himself considerably more than he had last evening. Tony grudgingly admitted that it felt better to him, too.

After several minutes of this, Mac wanted to up the intensity. He egged Tony on between grunts. “Ung! Nnnn… Is that…, nngh…, all you’ve got? …Ung! Resist, you fucker! … Nnnngg…, Try to…,Nnn-n-n…, keep me …, Nng.., out!” Tony clamped down hard while Mac was half way in. “NNN! Ss-s-s-ss…, Oh yeah…, now y’er… Nngh! O.K. Lemme push….” Tony held on, but there was no stopping Mac - not when he was that slippery, at least. “Right. Again!” Mac smiled to himself -- “This kid’s starting to learn something…”

Tony couldn’t remember ever having to work this hard for his sexual pleasures, and he wasn’t too pleased about having to satisfy someone else’s needs before his, but once again, he realized he was enjoying himself more than ever before -- and he hated that he was enjoying being treated this way. By this time, because he needed to work harder, Mac was lying fully across Tony’s back, with his arms wrapped tightly around his lats & chest. Much of Mac’s weight was on his feet, which he’d pulled up forward, a bit off to the sides, putting him in a kind of deep, half-squat, feet flat on the mattress, enabling him to get full range of thrusting motion, and good use of his powerful thighs to force his way through Tony’s newly-found defenses, making it easy for him to totally control the action.

While Mac was having a great time, Tony’s mind was a mass of confusion. He hated not being in control - Mac was dominating every move, and yet -- Tony was harder than ever. He seethed over not being the strongest guy in town -- yet watching and feeling Mac’s rock-hard, rippling bulges had him in a constant sexual frenzy. It pissed him off to no end that Mac out did him at the squat rack - it drove him crazy knowing that Mac could beat him into the ground if he wanted to. He could not accept being someone else’s sex toy - yet being forced to do Mac’s bidding had been his biggest turn-on ever. Tony could not get his mind around what was happening to him. But all that really mattered was -- it felt so-o-o damned good, and as long as he remembered to squeeze his Master’s cock at the right time, the fun would continue. That much he understood. •