Jeff & Mike


By Cleety

The behemoth rose; he towered above me and spread his legs, his etched quadriceps quaking, his calves as big and hard as bowling balls, crawling with pulsing blue veins as thick as bicycle chains.

He lifted his arms to his sides - JESUS! - the triceps sagged down, their own pendulous weight must have taken enormous strength to lift! So now he was standing before me, in an enormous "X", snorting in and out like a steam bellows, or a fuckin' dragon or shit! And his gorgeous, luscious model's lips curl back on his gleaming teeth into a snarl of exultation in his maximum power. His blonde gorgeousness seemed like it was beyond mortal possibility.

I could have taken it if that was all - a quivering Vesuvius of shimmering muscle mere yards away. But then Vesuvius erupted….

A horrific bellow roared out of Jeff's golden mouth, and like, he starts to flex EVERY MUSCLE IN HIS BODY!! I mean, this is 500 pounds of flesh being moved around; it takes effort! And he's squeezing and lifting and pulling and popping and pushing and posing and stretching every single muscle group all at once!

The muscle flowed in my direction like slow, hardening lava. The denim held for mere seconds, before it snapped like a rifle shot, then disintegrated from Jeff's exploding form. The two pecs rolled towards me like massive boulders, like I was going to be crushed by the advancing megaliths. They stopped an inch from my face - and now I could hardly even see the rest of him! All I saw before me were two rounded walls, with a deep bony crevice in between, surrounding my field of vision. The heat from his ruddy, tanned smooth skin was palpable. Then - "The Hardening" began.

Basically, Jeff was leaning over me, right? And his two pecs are being smushed in my face, right? And I'm speechless, right…and getting woozy? I hear a faint whisper rumble through the granite living walls of his brooding, immense pecs…

"…was it WORTH it?"

The walls of the pecs start to shake, firm up. Jesus Christ, you mean he isn't even flexing them all the way yet --?? Striations, like cracks in plaster, start to etch themselves into the puffy round flesh of his globed man-tits. They start small, then get deeper as he squeezes harder, finally cutting deep, DEEP into his musculature, like faultlines plunging down through his meat toward the bone of his sternum beneath.

On the bulging mounds on either side of the crevice, two - three - FIVE discrete sections, bars of solid muscle, are revealed and shudder into place, one on top of the other, each band being brought separately to a state of being maximally swollen. Jesus, I could hardly breathe. I've never seen anything like this, or even imagined it, or even saw a cartoon that represented as much muscular masculinity as Jeff squeezing his pecs together.

But that's not all - While I'm tripping out on Jeff's insanely flexed pecs dancing in view, and spurting buckets of cum into my shorts, I start to feel something rising beneath me, between my legs in fact. It feels like a sawhorse is rising into my crotch, about to lift me off the ground. And I do, in fact, get hoisted - my legs astride what, I realize with terror, is my boyfriend's swelling cock. I mean, I can feel a hot wind blowing off the golden, smooth skin wrapping the hyper-muscular flexed torso of my guy Jeff, and then his three-foot COCK rises up underneath me, so wide it felt like I was on a pony's back, and lifts me toward his snarling lips --??

Let's say, it was a turn-on.

Fixing my eyes with his eagle-like emerald gaze, Jeff roars like a lion; and, holy SHIT, his cock snaps up to fully-erect, straight up against his inhuman torso, pinning me to the shifting cinder blocks of velvet-covered sandstone that are his abs. I mean it -! I have a steel-hard, three-foot barber pole against my back - Jeff's cock; and on the front, I've got my face deep in the crevice between Jeff's pecs, which are so huge I can just barely encompass them if I hold out both arms all the way.

Then The Gushing began. As Jeff roared, the barber-pole cock pinning me to his chest starts to shake violently, but rigidly, like a firehose that has suddenly been turned on to full-pressure. The first gobs or warm, milky juice dripped onto me, smelling of raw, bloated, hormone-drenched cum. But it kept coming - the cock kept squeezing me, so tight I could barely breathe, against his torso, and the cum kept pouring down onto me, a skanky custard of ropy sperm, thick swirling clumps in a sugary, grey, watery gruel.

As I blasted load after load of my own, shrieking and praising him, I suddenly realized - he wasn't ever going to stop cumming! I squirmed on the sticky, slippery cock, sqeezing the base of his cock between my own not-inconsiderable muscle thighs, hoping to egg him on to even greater ejaculations. I tried to get my hands down far enough on his man-root to feel his balls. And fuck, were they huge - giant spongy inflatables, hot as could be, pumping in and out like machines and swinging from the base of his cock like the balls in that medieval weapon, a double ball-and-chain!

"I can cum as long as I want!!" he said, gasping. I couldn't answer. What can anyone answer to that? I was straddling his fucking cock, which was a torpedo of clenched muscle!! Jeff was to wrapped up in his own glory to notice my speechlessness.

"I'm the MUSCLE GOD OF EVERY MAN'S ETERNAL IMAGININGS; and you ask me, was it worth it…??" •

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