We pulled off at a motel in the depths of the countryside, the back of nowhere, but everything had been arranged in advance. As we parked our bikes in a long row outside the cabins Buzzcut informed me that "We bunk two to a cabin - change partners each night - helps to get to know each other better for when we reach the other end. Shaman's the only exception - you'll find out why if you stay with us. You've got Josh for tonight. Think you have a lot in common."

Josh turned out to be the taciturn dark guy with the great pecs who had been so uncommunicative on the ride. Buzzcut pushed us together at the table in the dining room, but Josh had his knickers in a twist. Hardly ever looked up from his plate. He wolfed down a considerable meal and left the table abruptly. After a few more introductions I headed out to find him. Felt I had to get through that hedge somehow. Apart from anything else he was too darn hot.

I found him out in a field. He was sitting on the bike watching the sun make its way to the horizon in the lake below. I walked up and stood silently, taking in the utter muscular perfection of the guy. The ripped tee and the blue bandana were both off, hanging on the handlebars - all he was wearing was his George Clooney 3-day stubble, his wrist band, the two barbells piercing his perfect nips, and another through his navel which was inked with some kind of tribal symbol.

If any bodybuilder were ever to be satisfied with what they've got, I'd say he had one of the most perfect bods I'd every met. Massively wide shoulders, thick lats sloping down to the small waist. He'd undone the top of his leathers, without unclipping his bulging codpiece, and I could see what was a perfect eight-pack.

After I'd been studying him for what seemed like minutes, he hefted a thickly veined bicep to scratch his head, finally looked up and sighed.

"Guess we'd better talk if we're going to sleep together."

I didn't answer him. Instead I straddled the Harley, pressing our leathered bulges together, grabbed those thick horseshoes and bent him back over the baggage carrier, and shoved my tongue into his hot mouth. His muscles struggled against mine for a moment and I shoved harder. All of a sudden he gave in, his tongue found its way into my mouth and his arms wrapped themselves around my panting torso.

With great effort and without disengaging our kiss he pushed me upright. Our big pecs reacted against each other and I could feel both pairs of nips getting real hard. I put one hand behind his head and he reciprocated by squeezing my nip.

He squeezed so hard that my tongue came out of his mouth.

"Hi."

"Hi to you too."

"Dunno about yours but my dick's gotten real uncomfortable in these leathers!" And he gave mine a squeeze. I squeezed back and was mortified to find that his salami was just that - about twice the thickness of mine.

Looking toward the lake, he yelled, "Last one in's a fag".

He leaped off his bike and beat a smokin' path down to the water where he peeled off the leather (with difficulty) and jumped in. He looked like some god-like animal as his muscles glistened in the setting sun. I took my time getting down there and sat to pull off my leathers and boots. I'd barely done so when he was on top of me.

We rolled a bit on the grass then I dragged him back into the water where we wrestled a bit, muscle against muscle. He dived under and grabbed my throbbing dick in his mouth and sucked heavily for about a minute and a half. When he came up I did a handstand in the water, wrapped my legs around his neck and plunged my face under to suck away at him.

We both came up for air and stood looking at each other, waist deep in lake.

"Jeez, you're hot! How much do you weigh?"

"Two-fifty at six foot. You?"

"Two twenty at five eleven."

I told him what a great physique he had.

"Yeah, but we all want more, don't we? Isn't that what this whole trip is about?"

"Is it?" I asked.

"Sure. Nobody tell you?"

"Nope. Nobody told me nothin' - except that you're all on the way to New Mexico on some stunt."

"Guess I'm not supposed to tell you till you're initiated - "

"IF I'm initiated."

"Oh, you will be. When you know all about this it'll be too much for you to miss out on."

We climbed out of the lake and sat at the edge of the grass watching the sunset. With the water dripping off his muscle the technicolor rays of the setting sun painted Josh in fantastic deep colors and brought out his amazing definition. He looked truly godlike - if it hadn't been for the Clooney stubble...

"So you won't satisfy my curiosity?"

"Nope. Can't. They'll tell you, if you stay."

"Then what's all this about initiation?"

"You don't need to know - if you get it, you'll enjoy it - at least I did!"

"What's with the Wind-in-your-hair guy? He's pretty impressive."

"That's the Shaman. He's the guy who's leading us to...to wherever we're going. Amazing guy - very hypnotic."

"I guess you're not going to tell me any more about him, huh?"

I asked him about the Leader, Buzzcut, Shades and others. Leader and Buzzcut both made it big as oral surgeons and were bankrolling the whole trip. "They're lovers." The others came from all over - garage mechanics, stockbroker, lawyer, professionals, a sailor...

"And what're you?"

"Me! I'm an actor - part-time model..."

"Guess that accounts for the build, huh?"

"Yeah, but, like us all, I want to be bigger! I've always held back because of the modeling, they don't want you too big, but now..." He trailed off.

"So who's the missing guy they're so anxious for me to fill in for?"

At once the dark clouds settled on him again. After a silent moment he got up, wordlessly pulled on his leathers and started to trudge up hill towards the bike.

"Hey! Did I say something?"

I snatched up my gear and went after him. He turned back.

"Look, I'm sorry to be such a pain in the ass - it's just that..."

"Just that Number Thirteen was your friend."

"Yeah. Really let me down. We were gonna do this thing together and at the last minute he told me to fuck off."

"Hey, I know how you feel. All too well. Same thing happened to me, kinda."

"Well, fuck them all, I say! Let's get to bed - we're off early in the morning."

However, we never really got to bed. At least not for a few hours. As soon as we got into our cabin he threw himself at me, grabbed a meaty pec and my dick and announced Let's fuck! So we did. And a memorable night of fuck and be fucked it was. As far as I was concerned, it went a long way to healing something, knowing he was in the same boat. I hoped he felt the same.

When we were both naked again he pushed me down on the bed (only one bed!), stuck his huge dick in my mouth and stuck mine in his. Our pecs and abs soon got sweaty as hell and provided enough lube for our dicks when our mouths finally let go of them. He got into me first and, shit! He really was thick! I don't think I've ever had one as thick. Nor one as insistent and furious. My own excitement built as I realized he was taking out his rage at his ex-partner on my fuckhole.

I didn't want him to cum before I fucked him, so we rolled our four hundred and seventy pounds of muscle over each other and I dragged his butt to the edge of the bed, pulled his legs wide, and plunged deep in one muscular thrust into his perfect bubble-muscle-butt. He yelled and I yelled back. And I fucked the cum out of him. Feeling the walls of his fuckchute tighten around my dick, and seeing him jet over his head brought me to the perfect pitch as I filled his ass with my own muscle juice.

I pulled out, swung his legs across the bed, collapsed on top of him, holding those mighty meaty delts and fell asleep almost immediately. •