Curling Lesson


By Deadliftr

As I struggled to control my breathing, my mate had turned his attention to the dumbbells, and now I finally understood the significance of the racks. Standing close behind me, he was able to reach out with each arm and grasp a dumbbell from the racks without pulling out so much as half an inch, thus remaining fully in control of the situation, Or so he thought, I told myself, heh heh. Musical strains of, "Just you wait, 'enry 'iggins - just you WAIT!" glided pleasantly through my mind.

He snatched the seventy-five pound bells off the rack with no apparent strain (OK - so he is pretty strong.) and lowered them to his sides. Then, without speaking, he began to curl, one arm at a time: left., right., left., right., slow, controlled, even-tempo'd reps, with chunks of iron my biceps could only dream of moving. The rhythm in his arms extended through his body to his cock which moved in time with the bells. As the weight moved slowly and precisely downward, the cock slid slowly, provocatively out until only the thick, wonderful helmet remained within. When the motion reversed, the upward movement of the heavy iron mass was as steady and controlled as was the negative, but with a purposefulness that carried over to the steady forward progress of the thick, warm, wet, blunt instrument that pushed its way insistently back inside.

After only a couple of reps with those massive dumbbells, and several strokes with the massive weapon down below, even the memory of the initial pain was gone, it having been easily---, nay, forcibly washed from my mind by the exquisitely strong pleasures generated throughout the journey of My Man's Phallus, but most especially by the passage of the broad, hard ridge of the mushroom cap across my sensitive prostate. At first I let myself succumb to the sensations, fully willing to let Him do all the pleasure-giving (I mean, Hell - how many times in life am I going to get to experience someone like Him, and anyway, I'd earned it just by having to take all of his macho crap), but before too long - was that two minutes? Or maybe ten? - it was time for me to assert myself. Hmmm, let's see..., how did I plan to start out? - Shit! I can't remember! The problem was that I couldn't think straight - that damned cock never stopped moving - it went straight from progressively distending my fuck chute as it pushed inexorably upward to sliding slowly southward in time with the reps that my Master kept repeating with such a careful, constant cadence: up., down., 3..., 4., in., out..

Now wait a sec -, I thought, What's my problem? I've dealt with this situation before. Well, not exactly this situation, but.. The "problem," as it were, was that the sublimely erotic sensations arising from my superbly functioning male organ were more or less continually slamming into my brain, effectively shutting off all possibility of clear thinking. The thing is that this wasn't really a "usual" situation. Most often, I get this incredible rush of pleasure as the cock's flared ridge squeezes past my magical prostate, but in between passages---, sure, it still feels pretty good, but at least I can think - and plan - and act, but in this case- he was just starting to pull out, and yet "nnnnnnn..,Oh God.,, " oh fuck - I'm getting' too close., "Nn-n-n..," Here comes the head -"NNN! - nnn-n-n-n," -- there it is! - Gawd! - how thick is that thing?, "-ssss-s-s-s-ah-h-h-h.." - the ridge finally caught at the base of my chute. My dick was now quivering with need - Shit! --- I gotta think! There wasn't time; he'd already reversed direction and had started back up: "NNNGH!", I said as the ridge passed by, but lesser sensations kept hammering me as he slowly pushed fully and thoroughly in, making me suck breath between my teeth until he reached his limit. I took one quick breath before, "..nnn-n-n-NGH!" - he'd given a little extra upward 'Oomph!' at the top of his thrust- "hs-s-s-s-sss..," -oh shit - how can he get so deep -- "Nnnn-n-nn.."

In the midst of all that, I think I heard him grunt. I could tell that he was straining a bit during the last few reps, but this time he actually grunted! It had taken him several seconds to get to the top of that last curl, and as his mind forced his muscles to complete the movement, squeezing ever harder as he completed the contraction, his cock flexed as well. Whatever blood was not rushing to his bulging, rock-hard, thickly-veined biceps was rushing to his bulging, rock-hard, thickly-veined cock as he held both contractions at their max.

"NNnnnnn.." I was straining not to cum. At last, he relented; both the flared head and the shaft deflated a bit as he held still for a few seconds. I had barely begun to re-gather my thoughts together when he started his next descent and withdrawal. The pressure on my prostate was fairly constant now - I groaned out loudly hoping to block out some of the feeling, ".nnnnn.," and it worked until the ridge passed by- ".uhN-SSssss.." -oh, God, please stop, please stop, or I'm gonna-, -but stop he did - and just in time; and he knew it, damn him!

"Guess I must be a bit too much man for you to handle," he chuckled.

My only coherent thought was, "Fuck you," (It occurred vaguely to me that my vocabulary seemed to be rapidly dwindling) but I didn't vocalize it; I figured I'd be pushing it. He must have taken pity on me, because he relaxed for longer than usual. I had some thinking time. O.K. My plan. What was my plan? Nothing came to me. Oh well - screw it! I'll just have to let instinct and experience take over.

I'd made that decision just in time, for the dumbbells began moving again, as did his cock. In fact, he'd caught me by surprise: "SSSs.s.s.s.., -nnnn-n-n.., -ahhh-h-h." Now what's going on??? It feels like he didn't deflate much after that last huge flex -- either that or my prostate's become engorged by all the attention it's been getting -- now there's a neat thought--, he, he, he, but Jesus! -"Ssss-s-.," Oh,shit, I can't hold off much-"NNNG! -sssss." Damn! Whenever he moves my brain gets fried; how am I gonna figure out what to do?

Luckily he was getting tired, and so was now doing a rest-pause for several seconds after each rep, giving me time to think. Showtime! At long last I started to 'attack' the invader at my back-door; within a couple of reps, I'd developed a pattern, and thereafter managed to maintain a continuous set of squeezes, little ripples, and even some fairly powerful undulations of my USDA Choice butt-muscle. My welcome tormentor was making a variety of noises, but for all I knew he may have been just straining because of the weights. But maybe it's me, came the happy thought, and that thought gave me encouragement. I tried a little harder and soon the two of us got a real good rhythm going. For a little bit, my only sensory input came from the beast within -- my mind must have blocked out the rest of the world. Evidently he felt pretty good, too, because the dumbbells stopped moving..., - I think.

While basking in some feeling of success, I was also fully aware of one problem: I was very close to shooting because the enhanced, super-bloated thickness of his cock was putting unrelenting pressure on my pleasure center. Fortunately, taking a more active mental and physical role in the proceedings had allowed me to deflect enough of the highly arousing sensations to maintain my control. It was time to turn up the pressure notch.

My goal, as usual, was to make my fuck-buddy cum before me, so I needed to up the intensity for him. Hoping to accentuate the greater intensity, I first reduced it in order to emphasize the contrast. As he moved forward, so did I, so that his cock didn't rub against me so strongly or so quickly, and at the same time I put all my mental effort into relaxing every groin and butt muscle I had. Consequently even his very thick dick slid through my now well-stretched passageway with minimum friction. Likewise on the return trip.

He noticed the change instantly, of course, and tried to compensate in various ways; it didn't work as well as he'd have liked and I could sense that he was getting a little flustered. After only a few strokes in this fashion, I was ready to go for the Big Squeeze, but I held off because I was very curious about what he'd do. Well - you know the problem with curiosity.. Determined to take the lead once again, he reversed direction part-way down one rep - both with the dumbbell and his cock --- and accompanied by an enormous effort and a huge grunt, thrust both of them back upward, catching me totally by surprise. The impact lifted me completely off the ground, and at that brief moment at the apex of my flight, I could feel him flex hugely inside of me- "NNGH-SSsss-s-s., oh shit." - even as my head got yanked around, allowing me to see his biceps crunch to new levels of shiny, vein-covered size and hardness. My body slid back down over his other hardness as I rapidly sucked in breath between my teeth, trying to stave off the inevitable, but even then only the balls of my feet were on the platform.

I hoped he'd relax at this point; he didn't. His body remained taut and hard, keeping me slightly elevated, partially suspended by his huge dick, so that the intensely erotic pressures produced by his surprising return thrust didn't go away. At least he wasn't moving, I realized, but then he added three or four additional flexes without relaxing even one little bit in between. I swore I could feel his pecker's girth increase. I sucked in more air: "Ssss-s-s-s." Oh shit - I gotta hold off; I can't cum yet, I can't- "NNnnn-n-n.." As he flexed, I tried hard to squeeze two things: my ass muscles to make him cum, and also my own shut off valve so that my balls wouldn't give up their load. Sadly, neither muscle group responded. Oh, please stop flexing, please stop. Each flex was stretching me yet more, or so it seemed; I couldn't hold off much longer, but then, mercifully, he rotated his hips back down far enough to leave me flat-footed once again.

I needed rest - badly, but by the grace of God, so did he, it seemed; that last episode must've taken its toll on him as well. All right, think, damn it! Um-m-m-m, let's see, relaxing didn't work exactly as I'd hoped - to say the least, so I suppose it's back to the basics.. I reverted back to my now-perfected repertoire of expertly-timed, undulatory dick-massage movements.

My efforts must have had the desired effect because his breathing got heavier after I went into action. On the other hand, his thrusts got harder and more deliberate, which made it tough for me to keep my arousal under control. Things went pretty well for a few minutes; we'd both settled yet again into a steady, comfortable, complementary pattern of movements, producing in me one glorious sensation after another. If I felt a peak threatening to throw over the edge, I'd focus hard on the rise and fall of the dumbbells until my dick backed away from the point of no return.

The first really odd thing I noticed was that at the completion of each thrust, his groin was banging into me harder than before, hard enough, come to think of it, that I was now winding up on the balls of my feet each and every time. At first I just chalked it up to extra enthusiasm from my partner. Man - this guy's got energy to spare! I'm not complaining, mind you; it felt gr-r-r-r-r-e-a-t! Oh yeah-h-h, here it comes again -"Nngh! ..uhn-n-n-n-n., Whew!" Oh, man, what a feeling -- I just hope I can hold off for a while longer.

Luckily, neither the reps, nor the thrusts, were getting any faster (Thank God!), but those thighs of his weren't losing any power, either, and the final inch or two of each "Nnnggh!" felt stronger than ever. I wondered how raw my insides were gett-- "Ummph!" Whoa - I really bottomed out this time.. His cock seemed to have reached an inner limit of some sort, probably the end of my fuck chute; it had nowhere else to go. "Oompf! -nngh-h-h-h." Holy shit - airborne there for a moment. It was getting harder not to cum. C'mon, man - you can hold off. Breathe in---, out---, in--, out. Better.

I was back on my feet - well, just the balls of my feet actually. While in this position, he actually held still for a bit, but all too soon he was tensing up the other arm, and suddenly up - and in - he went. Something had changed; the feeling was different now. For one thing, the thrusts were now a little "Ummpfh!" - harder, and (Geez! - I've got lift-off again"Nnng!" - and "Unhhh!" -again.) my feet were now leaving the ground throughout most of every thrust. Consequently, every time he popped me up in the air, he was exploring new territory within me; as the reps got harder, his grunts got louder, and his dick went deeper. With each new bit of progress on his part there was, of course, a little bit of pain on my part, which had a silver lining however - it kept me from cumming.

Shit! What was going on? How could his modestly above-average dick engorge THIS much? He must have been enjoying himself spectacularly because my butt had never been clamped this tightly around anything! It was time for a question or two, which I had to get out quickly during his rest/pause at the bottom of each thrust. "Hey, um-m-m., say, do you have a name?"

He grunted as he started the next rep. "Hhnnn!.. It's Matt."

He made it to the top.., "Nnnng!" (this was getting hard on me) and eased slowly out "Hssss-s-s-s.., nnn." He paused.

"O.K., Matt, I gotta tell ya, it's pretty hard to do my best work when I'm stretched out like thisss-s-SSS-NNGH!.., uhnnnn..uh, because, I mean, I thought you were pretty aroused earlier, but now - this is ridiculous-SSSS-nnNNG! Ow! - Nnnnnnn..." Take a breath - take a breath. "I mean, it feels like your-" I was cut off by his hissing/grunting noises as he slowly and painfully lowered the dumbbell.

"Oh!" he grunted, " -yeah, well, I guess I forgot to tell you something." He took a couple of deep breaths. "When I get close to failure and I have to strain these muscles real hard to move these weights, I get really aroused and my dick grows."

Nothing special there, I thought. "Yeah, well, that sorta happens to everybody," I said, stating the obvious.

"No. Not like that." He started another rep as his cock began expanding my chute once again. "It's more than that - NNnngh!" He pushed extra hard; I yelled softly as he held the thrust at the peak and flexed as my feet dangled some distance off the floor. "Much more," he said as he gave one final grunt and swiveled back down, carrying me with him. I had this hopeful but short-lived image of me getting my feet back firmly on the ground to relieve the pressure within, but it wasn't to be. I got as far as the tips of my toes, but otherwise I was suspended in the air, held up both by my arms, which were straight out in front of me fastened tightly on the barbell, and by Matt's sturdy, steel-muscle-belted cock.

During the brief pause in our mating game, a few thoughts flew through my head. Just what does he mean by that, I wondered? He can't really mean what I think he means., can he? On the other hand, he sure didn't feel this big when we started, but still.. 'How?' And if true, what defense could I possibly put up against a growing cock? No matter what was really going on, the facts right now were that HE was in me, his THING was fucking huge, I was constantly on the verge of cumming, and HE - and his dick - were totally in control! I guess he forgot to read my script for tonight's program, but I wasn't about to give in just yet. My only prayer, I decided, was to get yet more aggressive; it was time to put 'er into high gear. However, my strength was waning, so I knew I couldn't last long, but what did I have to lose? No matter what, I had to put the pressure back on him.

Easier said than done.

The pause was brief; it's just a good thing that thoughts move faster than dumbbells because all too soon, he was at it again - now with the left arm, then the right., the left.. I craned my neck to check out his arms - Fuck! - that sucker's huge! - the entire biceps was taking on a cock-like, purplish hue, the blood almost visibly coursing through the thick, red-purple veins.) Somehow I tore my eye from his spectacularly bulging, still swelling arms and tried once again to focus.

Oh I focused all right -- totally., - on his dick, which seemed to be doing as good a job of occupying all of my mind as it was of overfilling my love canal. I was now off my feet for almost all of each rep, which meant that all my weight was pushing down on him, which in turn pressed his dick harder into me, and the sensations were- "Nnn-n-n-nnm.m.m.mmm..." -fuck it! I give up. Screw the plan - what's so great about being in control, anyway. "-nnnn-n-n-n-n.." - Oh yeah-h-h., -so fuckin' beautiful.. Right at this moment, I didn't care if my feet never touched the ground again, so long as Matt's amazing growing cock could always be there, filling me up---, and holding me up. I actually felt a little sorry for Matt. The guy just doesn't know what he's missing, and at his size, he probably never will.

Another little voice bubbled up into my consciousness. "Hey! Dick Pig! Y'er losin' it - it's time to finish what you started."

I didn't want to. Go away!

The voice was insistent. "Watch out! You're on the verge of-"

"NNGH! Sss-s-s-s.." Shit! That was too close. Matt had thrown one weight up so fast, and thrust so hard, that I'd nearly lost my grip on the bar. He'd also produced a very slight jolt of pain --just enough to wake me up. Luckily he then slowed down to a gentler pace, giving me time to get my self together once again.

As the next dumbbell started up, I pushed back against him and squeezed down--- not too hard, and held. The unexpected resistance made him hesitate and catch his breath, but he pushed through and completed the thrust in usual fashion. By focusing on squeezing my butt muscles this way and that, my mind was successfully ignoring the frantic commands my body - and in particular, my cock - was sending it: Ejaculate! Ejaculate! May-Day, May-Day! I was feeling pretty self-satisfied at this point over my ability to resist, even though my feet had long since left the ground, but now he was all the way in, and then some, and with a grunt that had nothing to do with the dumbbells, he somehow managed to shove his cock skyward even more -- he must have been up on the balls of his feet, leaning backward as he gave one final upward thrust of his pelvis, and gave me his strongest "Flex!" yet - "Nn-n-ya-a-a-a-h-h-h-h.," - and he held it as long as he could, his whole body rocking --, and rocking me with it, in an effort to keep his dick extra-taut for as long as he could. My balls were on the verge of letting go, but I couldn't let it happen -- I just couldn't - "nnNNNnn-n-n." Hold on, body. - "ss-s-s-s-s.." Oh shit - be cool -- ignore it, just ig- " -sssnnnn.." I can't do this much longer.

He relaxed, and retreated. He was now pausing at the completion of each rep, giving me much-needed time to recover and prepare for the next one. His body tensed as he raised the other dumbbell, making his cock seem to get even more rigid. I squeezed noticeably harder this time, but he was ready now; he slowed a bit and groaned a little louder but didn't stop. I could tell, as I pushed back against him that he was putting more force into the push, and when his huge thigh pounded against mine, I imagined thick pillars of marble driving a somewhat smaller, but equally hard pillar farther into me than they ought - and again he flexed as he concentrated on the rock-hard peaks of his biceps that rippled as he strained for yet greater muscle contraction.

He voiced the effort: "-n-GAAaaa-a-a-n-n-n-nngh!" I felt his effort: "NNNGhhhh.., nnnnn!" I can do this (puff, puff), I can (puff, puff) do this.. He retreated. I made it! Maybe that was his last rep - he barely made that one (puff, puff) . breathe deeply, I told myself; I did. Relax! I did. Better.

It was a longer rest, but he wasn't done; luckily I was ready for him. O.K., he's getting' all I got this time. He was going to blow his wad, and now! I would see to that! I purposely let him come in far enough that I could clamp down on the most sensitive part of him. Conveniently enough, the rep was really tough and he was moving slowly. Come on, - nnn-n-n-n., come on-n-NNN-n-n-n-n-n., (puff, puff) you're nearly there, a-a-a-and - Nng! - Got 'im! I didn't just clamp down hard - I tried my best to crush his damned dick, showing no mercy at all at this point. Sure enough, he stopped. The forward pressure didn't stop, but his forward motion did. Bingo! Heh, heh, heh. I thought fleetingly of The Magic Christian and could hear strains of, "If you want it, he-e-e-re it is., come and get it.."

But the bastard was canny. He continued pushing unrelentingly for a full four to five seconds and then backed off ever so slightly. And here is where my body betrayed me with a totally natural, instinctive reaction - I had no input whatsoever: it relaxed a little---, just a little!, but that's exactly what he was expecting. I don't think he even waited to feel me relax - nobody's reaction time is that good. He just knew I'd let up, damn him! No sooner had he backed off then he thrust forward - driven by all the power of those massive, marble-hard thighs - assuming (knowing!) that I'd have let my guard down. My momentary victory was suddenly a shambles: his penetration had never been so deep, so fierce, or so., so., - total! Both of my feet came off the ground, and stayed there as he flexed his already "super-sized" cock to yet greater fullness, and without relaxing a bit added another, and another, and.. and I was gone.

- and I didn't care - the pleasure was simply too great to wish it away. Happy Gilmour's dejected admission of defeat when his girlfriend's hockey puck actually went into the goal seemed very appropriate just now: "Talk about your all-time backfire!" I laughed somewhere deep inside as the rest of me gave in to the euphoria of my greatest orgasm ever.

All too soon, reality was intruding upon my blissful state. The first feelings of which I became aware were that of being., well, relaxed - of course, as well as very comfortable, satiated, secure, protected.. - wait a minute! - protected? I jerked to alertness as my eyes flashed open. My feet were flat on the steel platform (Well, that part's right.), though I was reclining slightly against a hard wall of muscle, securely held in place by two huge arms with the thickest biceps I could ever have imagined. My Master was standing comfortably with his legs well-spread, holding me carefully, almost lovingly, against his naked torso with, I finally realized, his very hard full erection still firmly in place within me.

"Hey, Little Fella. You OK?"

Little Fella? Oh fuck - just now I didn't care. "Say, Um-m-m., didn't you - um-m-m.?"

"Didn't I what?"

"Well, didn't you cum?"

"No - should I have?"

"Well., it's just that----, I figured, you know, that you were ready is all.," I finished lamely.

He laughed. "Don't you worry, Little Fella - when I'm ready, you'll be the first to know it!" He chuckled some more, with a confident arrogance that irked me. I wanted to fuss at him, but what was the point? Besides I had no reason to complain after that experience. Pretty soon he pulled out and let go of me; -".thought you might like to rest a bit."

Good idea. "Yeah, sure." I straightened up and turned to look at my assailant. I knew he must have grown a little, but I was unprepared for the magnitude of the change. "Jesus, fucking, Christ! -- I had no idea," I admitted aloud. He was now two or three inches taller, but his muscles! In my shocked state, the bastard looked twice as big as he had before! If this had been the guy who had invited me to come over a few hours ago, I would never have accepted. I knew nothing about him; I'd have feared for my life. Every muscle - and not just his bi's, were pumped way beyond a normal pump, but pumped without being ripped. Take a contest-ready Olympia contender, thicken up every muscle a bit -- well, OK, quite a bit, and then load him up with enough carbs to hide the veins and fill in the ruts a bit and you'd have Matt.

Hugely massive Matt.

In spite of that, every square inch of him looked as hard as his long, thick erection, whose tip was wavering teasingly just inches from my nipples. Helplessly I reached out with one hand, by-passing his cock which had temporarily lost my interest and let my fingers explore the wall of abs muscle behind it. I pushed on the uppermost ridge -- there was no give. I slid my fingers downward, hearing them Thump! dully one by one into each of the deep horizontal valleys, after which they continued down the length of his thigh: I'd never felt a harder muscle, and I wondered what his bi's must feel like.

I moved back a step or two in an effort to get the whole picture. How could I have thought him scary? He's beautiful! I must have spent more time gawking then I'd realized because when I finally looked up at his face, I saw him looking back at me with two raised eyebrows above a rather self-satisfied sort of smile as he said, "It looks like you really didn't need a break after all," shifting his eyes downward to my groin as he spoke. I looked down as well, and much to my surprise found my own dick looking back at me. Holy shit! I never rebound this fast! I glanced back up at him, surprise clearly evident on my face, I'm sure.

"I'm ready when you are," he said. To emphasize the point, he grasped his dick with one hand and spread around the precum that had been issuing forth as we stood there, thoroughly wetting the entire weapon. Still in something of a haze, I stepped back onto the platform, assumed the position and waited. He slipped up behind me, closely enough that I felt his cock against the small of my back. Obviously using one hand, he guided his missile carefully downward through my crack, taking the time to waggle it up and down slightly as he pressed in gradually deeper even as I pushed back into him to fully experience the sensations he was causing. Once in the final position, he firmly enveloped my hips in his huge hands, and then with a soft, even, sensuously breathy voice gave me fair warning: "One--, two--, and--." We both pushed. "Hhnnnn," I said. "Oh, yeah-h-h-h.," he said, continuing his forward progress until fully implanted.. He'd removed the platform on which he'd stood earlier, so my feet now touched down at the bottom of each thrust. He then readjusted his position, reached over and picked up the next heavier dumbbells -- hundred-pounder's was my guess. I felt him pull out to the tip and tense his body as he began his second set.

He kept his motions slow and deliberate -- both of them, and since I did not, during this session, need to give most of my attention to avoiding premature ejaculation, I could focus fully on doing what I came here for. Looking back afterwards, I'd have to say that I probably gave as good as I got, if not as much, but with a dick the size of his, he must be used to that.

Things went well for a few minutes, and in spite of the constant assault on my senses -- and my butt, I figured I was pushing his dick's buttons about as well as anyone could, given the size of his weapon.., excepting of course another behemoth even larger than him--- "SSSssss--." Oh God, an image of that scene just flashed through my mind---, a picture of Matt on his knees, riding a huge black muscle freak with a sumptuous, black muscle-ass that was gripping Matt's happy, needy dick with a force that would send lesser mortals to the E.R.-- "-ss-s-s-n-n-nnnnnn." Holy shit! How can I be this close to cumming? C'mon, man., blank out that picture; get back to reality..

I regained control and happily accepted the apparent sounds of satisfaction that were escaping my partner's throat as proof of my success. In fact, I was even beginning to feel a little bit cocky. Heh, heh -- it's my show now; it was just a matter of-- "NNNG!" What the fuck.? "Nnn., ssSSsss-s-s.." What the hell just happened, I wondered. The pressure on my fuck chute was suddenly enormous, but something else was decidedly weird - familiar somehow, yet weird - Oh Shit! I'm up in the air again! He'd been standing behind me working those damned dumbbells - and me - with his legs considerately spread wide so that my feet remained on the platform the whole time, allowing me a solid base from which to do my work. No longer. All he'd done was stand up straight - and then, with an all-conquering victory grunt- "nnnnNNNG!" - forced both biceps to do his bidding by simultaneously curling both arms at the same time as he rocked, almost rocketed, his groin forward and upward, carrying me well free of any secure footing. I felt him crunch every muscle in his body, including the one inside of me, as he held both huge dumbbells - and me - aloft. I was suddenly helpless.

He held the full body flex until he'd lowered both weights., relaxed, and got back to his normal routine - one at a time. There was, however, one difference: he was still rep'ing two weights - one was a dumbbell; the other was me. I'd watch one weight move slowly downward as he rocked his cock and me in the same direction; then I'd turn my head and watch the other weight, along with the massive forearm driving it, move powerfully and decisively upward as his muscular cock drove into me with equal power and decisiveness.

Up and down, back and forth, the session continued. Sensing that this might continue for a bit, I tried to regain my composure, as well as my technique, but without much success. It's not easy to function properly when your only contact with solid ground - beyond the one in your ass - is through your grip on a barbell. I tried. I never could get much going; I was erratic at best. Nnnn-n-n.. - come on, baby - grab 'im good. (puff, puff) .nnNNnn-n-n., shit! I can't- nnNG - Damn! How does he expect me to- My thoughts got cut short: "Hnnn! Gimme more, fella. Uhnnn-n-n. C'mon - work that ass for me."

Damn him! What the fuck does he think I'm trying to do! I'd like to see him try this out and see how he- "NNNGH!" Oh fuck - where's the damned bar? His dick forced me up so high that my hands pulled free of the bar. I flailed about for it on the descent, found it, but lost it again on the next rep. Fuck! He's growing again! My ass agreed. I already knew I'd be spending all day Saturday in bed watching old movies as my innards recovered from tonight's assault. Probably Sunday as well.

He continued this way for a dozen or so reps, but I began to wonder why he kept it up. The way I figured it, there wasn't much fun in it for him because his cock wasn't sliding around within me: we both moved up and down together; no friction there. I guess he realized that too, because he once again spread his legs way out and even bent his knees a bit until my feet touched down. The incredible pressure on my inside mercifully abated, and I could think once again.

Matt stopped for a short rest - maybe it was just for my benefit - who knows; but soon he resumed, and so did I. The constant intense stimulation that I was getting courtesy of the XXL-dick coming at me from behind was speeding up my recovery, and my own dick was harder and more receptive than I had any right to expect so soon after my earlier substantial ejaculation - which was great, except for one thing. It was easy to get lost in the haze of sensation that was produced each time he entered me with such slow, deliberate thoroughness and then left in the same exquisitely careful, gradual way. Consequently it was tough to keep my mind on my job. There I'd be, floating in a tub of erotic sensation, vocalizing every feeling: "-nnn-n-n-n-n., oh yea-a-a-h-h-h-h. nnn-n-n, .awww, f-u-u-u-c-k (puff, puff), -hnnn-n-ah-h-h-h-h.." Then I'd think, Oh, shit - I'm forgetting to- (so I'd squeeze up high, down low, strongly, with subtlety) -"hsss-nnn-n-n.., aw-w-ww yea-h-h-hhh.." Man, I hope he's enjoy- "Nng-,-nnn." -ing this as much as I- "-ooo-o-o-o-o.., y-e-a-h-h-hh-sss-s-s-s-s."

It occurred to me, somewhere in all of that, that the Big Guy still hadn't shot is wad as yet, and I wondered why. Was it me? Wasn't I doing my bit sufficiently well to nudge him over the edge? That was something I found hard to believe, and certainly didn't want to believe. Sure, the size of his fuck-tool made it harder for me grasp it well, but this hadn't been a very long session either - intense, to be sure, but not terribly long, so I was still a little ways from being worn out. All of his body English seemed to relate to his damned dumbbells, so I hadn't been able to read his reactions very well. Or maybe he just had buckets of endurance and just liked to hold it all in for one major blowout. He certainly had plenty of endurance in those biceps of his -- how many reps with those hundred-pounder's had he already done? Then I remembered: he'd grown some, and those mothers were by now probably small potatoes to him. In any case, the lack of feedback was irritating the crap out of me, so I tried, in between moments of heavy breathing and of bracing myself as his thighs repeatedly propelled me towards the weighted barbell, to get some commentary going in that direction. I rarely say much at such moments - it rarely seems appropriate, but I needed to know.

Just as I began to talk, there was the soft click of the room door closing, but between Matt's strong, repetitive breathing and my own moaning and grunting, neither of us heard it.


"-u-un-n-n-nnnNNNG! Yeah?"

"(puff, puff) hisss-s-s-ssss. -Thanks."

He relaxes - "For?"

(I'm suddenly busy sucking air): " SSSsssss..oh yeah-h-h-h-h.., uh-h, for this fucking amazing ride!"

"Nnnnn-NNN! - Oh!" the dumbbell starts down - again.

Can't give up yet. "Yeah - it's getting a little raw in there-(NNNNG!) - and yes, you're bouncing me around- (Uunnh!) a bit, but it feels pretty terrific!" If it feels so damned good, why the fuck are you talking? my little voice asked me. Shut the fuck up, I responded.

He surprised me with his answer: "Yeah, I know what you mean-nnn-n-n-N-NN! - there's nothing like a fat dick up your butt - once you get used to it, of course-Nnnn-n-nn..." He'd lowered the weight.

"Oh?" I was surprised; how would he know? I figured he hadn't had much experience at my end. From his reply, it was clear that he understood my surprise.

"Oh yeah - I know that feeling very well." He talked as he continued his curls. "- and in fact, it's hard to say which position I like better, but I'm trying to keep this up as long as I can because I don't get to play this end very often."

"Oh-h???" Why the hell not? No one's about to argue with you if that's what you want!

"And I sure don't get to do THIS!" He powered up both dumbbells AND his cock, pulled back a little and contracted every muscle in his body and held the pose - and me! I yelped - "NNNGH-H-H!!" His huge thrust had once again lifted me totally off of the platform and wrenched my hands off of the bar. I was lying against his chest with my tailbone resting on the base of his giant cock, my legs stretched out to the front in mid-air. He took the time for several consecutive flexes before relaxing and lowering me.

He paused long enough for me to catch my breath and think. What he said didn't make any sense - he could damned well do exactly as he pleased! I had to ask: "You don't usually top?"

"Nope." He stated up again.

"Why not?"

"My partner won't let me."

Sorry - that didn't compute; I couldn't picture it. Wha-a-a-t?!?

He hadn't missed a rep - or a thrust; I was back to bending over and holding onto the bar, and had turned my head around out of surprise to look at Matt, but he pumped me hard, throwing me into the bar so I had to face forward again and focus on maintaining my grip. "How could he-?" - I managed.

He laughed. "What do you think? He's bigger'n me - that's how." That must have been a source of some frustration to him because he accentuated the 'bigger' with a bigger SLAM, which propelled me a few inches up his cock. I couldn't think of what to say at this point, and to be truthful, I wasn't much feeling like talking anyway, but suddenly my big friend had turned garrulous: "Yeah, he knows what he wants," - he pulled out fast, and then forced the weight up in one powerful motion, "and he uses his size to get it - nnNNGH! - Yeah!" His body turned to rock as he contracted everything while holding the weight on high. He started to sound a bit frustrated now. "Whenever I argue for equal time he just wrestles me to the bed, or the rug, or the shower floor, -- whatever-," he slowly lowered the bell as he pulled out, "-nnnnnn-n-n.." Once at the bottom, he continued: "-and tells me to 'keep on dreaming' as he takes control with his muscles., uhnnn-n-n..sssSSSSS!" - he'd forced the weight up hard once again, "- and his huge fucking dick!" He took a couple of breaths at the top of the rep. "I can't win, but once in a while he takes pity on me and lets me switch positions."

I wasn't about to express an opinion on the matter and just offered an understanding, "Hmmpf!"

He concentrated his way through a few more reps while I concentrated on sticking to the bar and not cumming, which, I realized with some amazement, was suddenly a distinct probability. It didn't help that Matt was punctuating his commentary with his own sounds of arousal, which made it doubly hard to keep my own under control. He got to the top of his next rep: "SSss-ahh-h-h-h.. " He paused. "But I'll tell you a secret," he continued in a quieter, secretive sort of voice as he slowly lowered the dumbbell and retracted his dick. "I kinda like it when he acts like that - uhnn-n-n-nnn.. when he forces me to ---" He took a deep breath at the bottom and started back up: "nnnNNNn.., to do things his way - SSsss-s-s-s.. As a matter of fact, it's a real - nngh! - turn-on for me -SSSssss- " - he was at the top - " and to be honest, I hope he never changes." He flexed himself, and then relaxed a bit, allowing himself to enjoy the sensations of the moment: "Mmmmmmmm." It sounded like he was enjoying the feeling of filling me up and expanding my insides as much as I was. He continued; "In fact, I think that's one of the reasons I love him so much." Hmmmm - now there's something I can really relate to, I thought to myself.

I heard him take a breath before starting the next rep, but then I heard another sound as well -- a third voice in the room, a deep, resonant voice, whispering rather loudly into Matt's ear: "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

Matt had been so focused on curling his weights, and I on the effects his XXL-serving of hard manmeat was having on my innards that neither of us had heard his long-time lover, Vince, come into the room. Vince had pressed his hands into the indentations on the sides of Matt's ass as he spoke, totally shocking my oversized mate. Matt yelled and snapped forward painfully hard into me. The unexpected voice scared the crap out of me as well, and it was only because I'd been holding on so firmly that I didn't lose control and fall across the bar, and it was only because Matt had been crunching his biceps at the top of the rep that he was able to keep from dropping the heavy dumbbell.

"Jesus Christ, Vince -- don't do that! What if I dropped this thing?"

"I knew you wouldn't"

"That's not the point; I could've-"

"Who's your little friend," Vince interrupted?

There was that word again. Who the hell was this guy? I'd finally recovered enough to think to look around. Matt was holding steady now, so I had time to look back over my shoulder, and there (Gulp! HolyFuck!!), looming behind my very large Friday-night fuck-mate, my new Master, -- and looming was the only word to use here -- looming behind., and over, and above, and around Matt's very significant physical presence was a yet larger version -- a larger naked version, of the same. From my view of him, I guessed that he had two or three inches on Matt's present, taller than normal height. At the moment, he was reaching his arms around Matt's rib cage, and I could already tell that he had two or three inches on Matt in the biceps category as well - with forearms to match. Where the hell do they make people this big, I wondered.

I tuned back into the conversation: "I met him at the gym, and-"

"-and have I been neglecting you," asked Vince in a very deep, sultry sort of voice - one with a definite tone of menace in it?

"Of course not, you meathead, but you know that once in while I-"

"You 'bout ready?"

"Huh? Oh! - Yeah. More than ready."

"Well good, because I am, too," he said, rather unnecessarily, as he pushed his own, more than substantial fuck pole lengthwise, deep into the cleft of Matt's backside. Matt had slid mostly out of me, but Vince's action made him jump once again, jacking himself forward and fully back into me once again, saying, "-SSSSSSS! -- Oh God - nnSSSsss-s-s-s., nnn-n-n-n.., Jesus, Vince, don't move -- that feels so damned good!"

"I guess you missed me after all." He slid himself up and down. Matt inhaled slowly, savoring the feeling. "Oh-h-h yeah! Always."

"In that case, let's finish this off the right way: lose the iron!"

Matt racked the bells. I looked around to see what was going on just in time to see Vince take one of the biggest weights from the rack -- hundred 'n fifty's maybe? Whatever it was, it was no match for the forearm that yanked it upwards. I heard Vince tell Matt, "You're gonna need to pull my dick down so I can get in," and then I was pushed downward as Matt leaned forward, bending over my back as he reached behind to guide his lover's cock home. Vince must've wasted no time getting comfortable because almost immediately, Matt's thighs were shoving me forward. He quickly wrapped both arms around my mid-section as we both moved gradually towards the bar in response to Vince's slow cock-press. Matt was fully in me from the start; we were locked firmly together. Consequently Vince was pushing us both forward as one, and I groaned with pleasure as we moved because I swore that I could feel Vince's cock sliding up inside of me. Matt and I moaned together as Vince fucked us both at the same time. Vince slammed home the last two inches; we both yelped. In my case it took me by surprise and I darned near shot my steadily building load just that fast. I heard Vince let out a long sigh of satisfaction, and then after a moment's quiet, he chuckled lightly, and with a tone of voice that said: "This is the way it should be -- you know it, and I know it," said simply, "Home, Sweet Home, Babe."

How strange: that's exactly what I was thinking.

I'd barely had time for that thought to register when I somehow felt Vince slowly pulling himself out; I unashamedly moaned the loss as he withdrew, and whimpered slightly, asking him not to go, even knowing he'd be back almost immediately. Matt's mouth was near my ear, and I could hear him echoing my feelings and desires. We both rocked backwards to prolong the sensation of exquisite fullness, even to the extent of clamping down - both of us - on his very firm member in an effort to resist, but he didn't stop.

I could feel the broadly-flared head of his cock blocking the exit, and I could feel it flex and enlarge a bit as Vince tensed his muscles and started to curl. He took about five seconds to raise the dumbbell and an equal time to fill us up again. We both sucked in our breath in a long, loud, mutual, "Hisss-s-s-s" for the duration of his upward passage. It was by now quite clear to me that this new muscle-freak's cock was scaled-up in size to match the rest of him. I was very glad to have Matt as a buffer between me and that Monster Dick -- I knew I'd never be able to handle it, but as it was, I felt no pain, but only glorious, breath-taking sensations with every move he and it made.

Once again, Vince announced his arrival at the limits of our fuck chute: we both grunted loudly as we clamped down hard on our own internal shut-off valves to stave off our ejaculation once again.

Was every stroke going to be like this? - 'cause if so, this fun little game was going to end really, really soon. Vince had gotten quickly into his rhythm and was now alternating arms with precise timing. He stopped trying to blast out new territory with each rep, which helped, but still Matt was holding my ass mashed firmly into his groin, trying his level best to avoid any friction between him and me lest it should end this session almost before it had begun. Vince seemed to sense our predicament because he kept his movements slow and predictable, pausing for a considerable - and considerate, five to ten seconds after each withdrawal to give us time to cool down a bit - always maintaining a thick, pulsating presence, of course, just inside the back door. Once he paused half-way up, and half-way in, and 'jiggled' himself back and forth just a little; after we both responded with a well-synchronized "nnn-n-n.., nnnnn., nNNNnn-n-n-n-ng," I heard a soft, self-satisfied chuckle before he continued on his way; he probably knew that Matt was well-satisfied to have Vince lead the way on this night.

Several reps into Vince's session, it occurred to me that since his arrival, I'd been mostly just along for the ride -- along with Matt, of course, courtesy his life-partner. I tried to get back to doing what I did best, but a lot of my energy was going into supporting Matt, who still had two arms firmly clenched around my ribcage, and then when I did manage to get a few butt contractions going., well - it was just weird: Matt and I were so tightly linked that when I crunched my butt as Vince filled us up once again, it felt like I was squeezing my own dick ---

- my own warm, wet, tightly-clenched dick. Wait a minute, I thought, my hands are on the bar. I looked down at myself, and there was the very visible, shiny red head of my own cock protruding from Matt's meaty fist that was now clamped firmly around the shaft. It took me a long time to understand what exactly I was seeing because I'd never noticed the transition of Matt's grasp from my waist to my cock, and I watched with child-like wonder as Vince pulled back and my cock disappeared into Matt's fist -- as one of the monster dumbbells moved gracefully downward through my peripheral vision off to one side. I felt my dick flex, perhaps in an effort to fill the void left by Vince's withdrawal, providing a fresh supply of precum into Matt's hand, offering me easy passage on my next trip up through his firmly-clamped fist, powered by the force of Vince's next stroke -- a very strong stroke- "Gaaahhh-h-h-h.., NNnnnnn.., ssss-" Don't cum --oh please -- not yet!

Suddenly the strokes began coming faster, and as that happened, Matt, who had been standing with his legs spread apart stood straight up -- one arm easily and forcibly cradling me into his stomach, the other maintaining its hold on my dick, as my feet lifted well clear of the ground. "SSSssss-," Oh shit! - I didn't know he could get any deeper, "NNNnnn-n-n." Then, very quickly, he was half-way out, and back in, and out, and.., "Hey - wait a minute! Something is different. Oh! - that really IS Matt moving in and out," even though I wasn't moving a muscle - "Wait a minute, how can he.?" I knew Vince must be thrusting because from out of the corner of my eye I could see the dumbbells flying up and down, but it wasn't Vince that I was feeling. I craned my head down and around -- Ah! While holding me quite firmly in place, Matt was rocking his pelvis like a late fifty's rock star on acid, getting all the internal friction his dick demanded of him, and yet I could tell from his more or less continuous string of straining noises - "nnnNNGG - Nnn-h-h-nnn, ngh! - nnnNNN!" - that in spite of the pounding he was giving his dick, courtesy my ass, he was also working hard, at the same time, to avoid cumming.

And if he came now, it wasn't because of my doing: right now I really was just along for the ride. I mean, it could hardly be otherwise right? Think about it: if I'm sitting on a guy's cock and my feet - or knees - are planted on firm ground, or mattress, I'm at my best, but when I'm dangling from some giant's forearm and my feet are swinging about in the air, well., those aren't exactly ideal conditions, and just now I felt useless. But what Matt was doing to me felt great, so - What the hell! - I just gave up and enjoyed every sensation I was getting.

By this time, Vince was starting to grunt from his reps - and getting louder with each lift, and I noticed something else: Matt was moving in a new way. I looked down. On the next thrust, I saw his heels come off the ground enough that he was briefly on his toes - only his toes! Back down, up, and there it was again, and then next time, "NNGH! Holy shit! I'm gonna-Sssss.., Jesus! What the hell was that.? I tried to stay aware during the next surge. My eyes stayed open just long enough to see that - "He's clear off the ground! - NNNGHhhhhh! Hnnnnnn.., please wait - just for a second so I can catch my-"

I felt Vince tense up hard; he started to raise both dumbbells, slowly at first, his groan starting out loud and getting louder, but holding back on his thrust. Then, the rep nearly complete, he crunched both arms quickly as HARD as he could as he thrust into us in one quick, body-filling movement, initiating a chain reaction of orgasms such as I could not have imagined. He rocked back and forth as he shot, accentuating each one with a new flex even bigger and harder than the one before, blood rushing from some unknown source to feed his engorging bi's and his volcano'ing cock.

His well-timed flexes must have stimulated some part of my brain into action, for I realized at some point that I had once again become a participant - and my butt was aching from squeezing Matt so hard for so long. Matt was doing a great job working my cock, too, and whether by design or by chance, two of my shots got me square in the face. My manly ego got a boost from the unexpected power of my dick, and I would have laughed with joy over it, but other emotions were too much in control, so I couldn't. Instead I simply gave in to the pleasure of the moment and rode out the event to its conclusion -- a very happy benefactor of Vince's power and virility.

* * * * *

Afterwards we sat around drinking and snacking and chatting, and for me, watching --watching the two naked muscle-giants lounge about and slowly shrink back down to their normal, but still huge size, while at the same time wondering if all of this was real. Was I just in some kind of Altered State of mind? I decided that I didn't care if I was; the experience was very, very real to me, and incredibly beautiful. And yet in all the talk, the subject of the incredible experience I'd just had never came up. I suppose, for them, it was just another evening of the "same old, same old.," but for me., well, I was still., understandably I think, a bit stunned and wasn't actually doing much of the talking. I was expecting, at the very least, to hear Matt say something nice about my performance, assuming that that was why he brought me here and that he'd appreciated my input, of only just a little, but no - not a word. No "Nice job." Not even a "Thanks."





Fuck'im, I thought.

Then I reminded myself that really what he was after was the chance to be the Fuck-er and not the Fuck-ee, and that he had taken full advantage of that opportunity, and I really couldn't fault him for it. Still, after all of that, it was depressing to think that I was just a means to an end for him, and that my sexual-know-nothing lifting buddy Eddie would have been an equally god receptacle for his dick. Ah well, screw it. So he's a self-indulgent ingrate; it was still a great night. No regrets.

It still wasn't very late, and it was clear I wasn't being asked to stay over. It was also clear that my knew acquaintances wanted to be alone and that it was time for me to leave. So, having said our Good-bye's at the front door, I was starting to walk away, with my ego somewhat deflated because Matt seemed so uncaring about my significant efforts to give him a very special evening; but at the same time I was wondering - OK, to be honest -- I was drooling, mentally, about exactly what sorts of delicious things those two very hunky, very horny muscle giants might to do each other's bodies when left alone together, and wished that I could somehow be a part of it. I thought I heard my own name slice through my daydream but ignored it.

There it was again.


Oops! I turned around. "Oh. Sorry," I apologized. "What's up?"

Matt was wearing a huge, beautiful smile such as I hadn't seen all evening. "You were right -- it wasn't just empty talk."

Coming out of the blue like this, in my day-dream state, I had no comprehension. "Wha-a-t?"

"At the gym. You said you were for real. You were right. You were terrific. Thanks."

It took me a little time to shift into the right gear. I had to go from feeling like something of a failure tonight, and thinking of this guy as an arrogant, ungrateful jerk, to exactly the opposite. As my mind was clearing, I formed a "Thank you" of sorts in my head, but before the words came out, my brief spurt of satisfaction and my gratification at having pleased a truly demanding customer, turned quickly to an anger that was perhaps as irrational as it was, I think, understandable.

"In a strained but carefully controlled voice, I asked, "What did you say?"

"I said you were as good as your word."

How does one react to all of this? I reacted badly, I'm afraid. I started taking long strides back up the sidewalk, blurting out exactly what I was feeling as I walked. I started talking in a normal tone, but my voice got rapidly louder, each word being enunciated with great clarity: "You Son-Of-A-Bitch! We're in there fucking away for well over an hour, and here I am, working my tail off -- quite literally -- to make this a great night for you, giving you the benefit of every bit of experience I've ever had, the benefit of a hard, strong, weight-trained ass, and what do I hear from you? Nothing! Not One, Damned!, Fucking!, thing! An hour and a half and nothing but your damned grunting and your stupid demands: "Squeeze me harder, my Little Fuck Toy," I mimed. "Well Fuck that, Man!"

By this time I was barely two feet in front of him, screaming directly into his face. "And while I'm at it, Fuck you, too!"

Vince was right behind him; he was wearing an even bigger smile than Matt. It did not help; I kept on going. "You couldn't even find time to sneak in a little, 'Feels good, Man' or something? It never occurred to you that a little feedback might be appreciated - not to mention useful, maybe? Fuck it! I'll go somewhere where I'll be more appreciated next time."

I turned around and strode quickly away without looking back.


"Forget it!" I kept walking away.

"Next Friday. Same time."

That stopped me. I turned back towards the house, my face a nasty, angry glare. Matt had a very big, very confident, very self-satisfied smile on his face. I did not. "Fuck you!" I said, and walked away once again. I heard the door close.

I grumbled to myself about the night's events as I walked, mostly about failing my Prime Directive: to take over leading the action soon into the evening. I stopped walking. On the other hand, it was probably the hottest night I've ever had, and as it turns out, Matt was pretty well satisfied with my part in the evening's affairs, so all in all, I suppose it was a very good night. I resumed walking with more confidence and bounce in my stride.

Was I still pissed? You bet.

Would I be back next week?

You bet.

The End •

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