By Also_KnownAs

The man, the target of every other man's attention in the small cafe (being just one, at the early hour), was sitting outside in the sunshine at a table alone.

The fact that he was alone wasn't the most unusual thing about him of course. No one would look twice at some guy sitting alone at a coffee shop enjoying a sunny morning, normally.

But this guy was anything but normal.

Tommy wasn't supposed to come out from behind the counter, leaving the register alone. The guy had probably elected to sit all the way outside just to torture him. If that was his intent, it was working almost too well. Tommy's boner was refusing to subside, and his 22- year-old body was feeling like a 15-year-old pumped so full of hormones and sexual tension that he felt like he'd explode.

But the man sitting out there, the guy who'd come in not ten minutes ago and said in his earth-shaking tones, "Coffee. Black. Please," and who was dressed in almost nothing at all, smelling of a deep funky sweat that seemed to be leaking testosterone all over the floor, probably just come from a workout at the gym around the corner that had his ample collection of muscular beauty pumped high and tight and bulging, that guy was sex made mortal.

He was so much man, so big and broad and beautiful, that he was practically spilling out of those little nylon shorts that hugged his ass like skin and held a basket so full it looked like he was hiding a couple of eggs and a foot-long length of sausage down there. Tommy could see, actually see the ridge of the guy's helmet pressing against the material, his dick held sideways toward his hip, the tip reaching nearly all the way around! And the shaft was so thick, it could not be real, no man's dick was so perfectly, beautifully proportioned. It had to be a rubber toy or something, but it sure was well detailed if it was a fake.

His bronzed skin gleamed with a shining slick of sweat that evidenced how hard he'd been working his huge muscular form, his dark eyes flashed with something primal and overwhelmingly male, the dark scruff of beard on his unshaven sculpted chin and high cheeks seemed to be growing thicker as Tommy watched and no man, no where, no how had a better build than the guy sitting outside the coffee shop. Each muscle was tightly defined, the depth between lending him definition that was ungodly. Whenever he moved, the collection of brawn that hung off his tall, wide frame moved with sleek perfection, bulging and flexing like a call to action. He had to have worked all his life, 12 hours a day shoving iron around to get that build, and even though his body had the muscular size and maturity of a much older man, his face made him look 19, 20 tops.

And what a face! Jesus God, but he was beautiful. Not just handsome, but that was surely a word that could definitely help define his looks - he wasn't cute in any way, shape or form, his looks were much more powerful and rough than that word described - but when Tommy looked at the man's face he felt his mouth go dry and his brain empty of words. Gorgeous was what he was, from his full, soft lips to his hard prominent nose to his heavy brow and the dark shock of straight blue-black hair that crowned him, he was beautiful. So goddam beautiful.

The guy was now turning his face toward the window through which Tommy had been staring, the guy who was meeting Tommy's longing gaze, the guy whose full lips now parted slightly and allowed that masculine face to soften only slightly as he smiled back, his teeth flashing brightly against the copper tan of his skin, and he lifted his hand from the table (Jesus! Jesus, look at that bicep!) and wiggled his fingers in a friendly little wave. Their eyes met across the distance, through the glass window, inside to outside, and the man sitting under the bright morning sun with the biggest set of pecs and what looked like an 8-pack of tight, hard abdominals winked and beckoned with a slight nod of his head.

Tommy hopped the counter so fast he wondered if the guy thought his ass was on fire.

In a way, it was.

"Yes? Sir? Yes, sir? Is there something... anything... I can do? For you? At all?"

The man's smile increased. He leaned back in his chair and spread his legs a bit wider, stretching his tall frame out and making his collection of brawn flex and swell. Tommy burned the image of this huge man into his head so he could use it for fantasies later. He wished he had a camera to record the vision before him. The man's shadowed face, the sculpted lines of his face, his deeply masculine appearance, he was almost absurdly beautiful. His black hair caught the sunlight and silver-blue threads of shining glimmers ran through it. He had heavy brows above his green eyes, and those eyes were burning into Tommy's flesh. The man's gaze fell along Tommy's form, the one he had tried so long and so hard to bring to even a whisper of the strength and size this man possessed in whole.

The huge man smiled. It looked as though the bulge in his shorts actually settled forward under its own weight and slightly swelled, drooping dangerously close to the hem of his leg. Damn, that thing was real! All those fat, luscious inches down there were all him! He said, "Is it always this quiet?" His voice was so deep, Tommy swore the glass top table rattled.

Tommy thought about the words striking his ears, but he was having difficulty concentrating on anything other than what he saw. Out here, in the morning light, the guy looked even bigger!

And that was amazing, because usually given time for a fantasy to sink into Tommy's overactive imagination, the guys never measured up the second time. But this guy - this guy was doing a really great job of taking Tommy's fantasy, rolling it up into a tight ball and eating it whole. His chest was a striated map of muscular wealth, two huge and very thick mountains of meat with a forest of dark curls dusting the tanned flesh. His nipples were fat and luscious, begging a tongue bath. His shoulders were bowling balls of brawn. Long, thick balloons of muscle were mounted on his arms.

As he sat back, pushing his butt forward on the chair, his arms relaxed back. They were overwhelmed with raw brawn, the skin stretched tight across muscles of such incredible vascular definition that it appeared almost as if the man had no skin to speak of. A dark hint of the forest under each arm was accompanied by the sweet, male tang of his delicious aroma. His skin seemed to gleam like metal under the bright morning sun. These were meaty plates of muscle, vast and powerful. Then there was the washboard on his stomach, thick and hard enough to scrub Army boots clean. More of his shining dark curls dusted his belly and thickened to a trail down the exact center of his torso, through his navel and erupting suddenly wide and thick just before disappearing under the waistband of his tiny shorts. He wore them low on his hips, but maybe he had to because he was so tall. But the only reason a guy wore shorts that small and that tight was if he was advertising for something.

Tommy heard the man clear his throat - he thought at first the sound was thunder, but when he managed to pull his eyes back up the incredible body, the guy was looking directly into his. "Like what you see?"

"Shit, I'm sorry. Shit, I'm... I've never..."

The guy smiled, showing straight rows of gleaming white teeth. "S'okay, I wouldn't show off this body if I didn't want other guys to look." Other guys, thought Tommy. He said other guys. "Of course, some of it developed on its own - without any work." He let his hand drift across his torso and he cupped himself, surrounding his ample crotch with his huge paw. The lines of power along his meaty forearm bulged as he grabbed hold of the shaft of his monster through his shorts, and when he squeezed himself the head swelled thick and huge, poking against the material. He was so huge that he spilled out of his grip.

"Holy fuck."

The guy let his other hand drop to his crotch and he brushed his knuckles against his swelling pride. Then he turned his hand over and buffed the helmet, which seemed to swell larger still under the attention like a proud snake. It looked like it was going to rip its way clean through his shorts any second. "Ten inches," he said softly.

"Holy fuck," repeated Tommy.

"Soft," he emphasized, moving his hands away from his groin to rest on his hips, framing the now throbbing and swelling beast pushing heavily against its nylon cage. "Ever seen a ten inch cock?"

Tommy gulped. He shook his head. "Not in person."

The guy smiled. "Want to?"

Tommy nodded. Of course he did.

"I look bigger than that. Or so I've been told." The muscled man hooked one thumb under the waistband of his shorts just above the root of his tool and tugged down slowly, his hand sliding over the firm contour of his cock and balls, the fingers sliding down and between his legs, his torso stretching taller as he pulled in his stomach muscles, tightening them to steel hardness. "Sometimes, it gets in the way. It's difficult to contain all of me." He unveiled more of his glistening, dark body hair and a pelvis networked with veins branching under his thin, bronzed skin leading to one goal - that fat, luscious length of prime meat still hidden under its slight sheath of Nylon. "But I don't mind at all."

He pulled his shorts lower and lower until Tommy could see the thickness of his cock, at the root of his beast as it emerged from his muscular form. The veins spread across its expanse and he shifted his hip and shoved himself higher as his hand crawled lower. Inches of his fat prick sprung free suddenly, but still not the head that was lodged in a fold along his thigh. "Hmm. Maybe I am bigger. It's been a while since anyone volunteered to measure me." The whole of his cock was meaty and thick and glossy with sweat, a dark tube of flesh covered with veins that dully pulsed as Tommy watched.

The man slid lower on the chair, inching his tight butt to the edge, opening his legs, thick with defined wedges of brawn, wider and pushing his hand deeper between and under. The young man with the body to kill for let out a deep, dark, soft moan of intimate pleasure. He was rubbing his asshole with his middle digit, Tommy realized. He could see the man's muscle on his forearm flexing in reaction to his manipulations. "I like that," he said quietly. His thumb pulled the material further down, revealing more of himself, and his hand was reaching under and between his tight ass cheeks and he was pleasuring himself as he showed his package to Tommy. He was getting off on this. Jesus!

If it wasn't already ten inches of fat dick that Tommy was looking at - and it must not have been, because it looked like another third of his monster was still covered up - then ten inches was a fuck of a lot bigger than Tommy ever imagined.

This guy was definitely a shower... and a grower. His anal play was starting to manifest in some pretty interesting and obvious growth of the already amazing cock. Tommy felt his mouth drop open in wonder as the veins lacing the surface started to swell and multiply. The whole of the thing was growing as if it was being inflated. Fuck, how big was this guy's prick? He was a genetic freak in the best way. Cocks that big didn't get bigger, but this one clearly was.

"Touch me," the man growled softly. "If you want to."

He did. Tommy dropped to one knee and reached forward, placing his fingers to the bloated tool. It was hot! He could feel it growing, too, feel the skin tighten and the shaft swell outward. Even the veins were hard, so pumped with blood that they seemed solid. The man shifted forward again and Tommy's hand was suddenly filled with his meat. He grabbed onto it, feeling the slick heat against his palm, and it pushed against him, it wanted out of that tight little space and into the open air.

The man never closed his eyes, he kept watching Tommy's fascination and reverence of his hugeness. He had pulled the shorts as far down as he could and now his excitement and growth had him caught, his vastness held inside a roll of nylon even as he continued to lengthen and swell. Tommy ran his hand, both hands along the solid sleek tool and then he wanted to see all of it, he needed it all out, all its inches, all its power and majesty. He'd never seen a cock so huge, so amazing and fat and beautiful.

He moved his hands around it, up its length, tugging it free of its confinement and it sprang out with a suddenness that startled him, and the man grinned. The cock sagged under its own weight, pulsing and bobbing with each beat of his heart, arching forward and then rising up, the skin drawn tight and shiny, and the head was swelling like a balloon. It was red and shiny, and after only a few throbbing pumps the guy's huge erection was standing upright, it looked over a foot high now, maybe 13 or 14 inches, Tommy thought.

"Impossible," he whispered, stroking the mammoth meat with both hands, now so enraptured by the thick tube of sex flesh that it didn't occur to him that he was kneeling at a table outside his coffee shop hand-jobbing this muscle stud in the open air of the bright morning sunlight. There was no way anyone could not see what was happening, the cock was nearly as tall as Tommy as he kneeled there, the head gleaming with a runnel of slick pre-cum, the shaft now as red as an apple and hard as steel.

He ran his grip along the fat shank of the huge prick. He looked into the guy's beautiful face, into his eyes, and saw passion and desire and a depth of sexuality that made him breathless. The man was looking at him with something approaching hunger, and Tommy realized there was no turning back, now. One way or another this guy's lust was going to be satisfied.

But Tommy needed two mouths and a jaw that could unhinge to take this mother inside, and the thought of splitting his ass open to welcome the huge tool up his guts made him tremble. Jesus fucking Christ, this guy was big everywhere.

"Are you afraid?" The man's voice was a deep rolling bass that moved through him. He nodded, even as he continued stroking. The guy smiled. It was gorgeous. "Don't be," he said.

"I want you," he said honestly.

"Here?" The guy's smile increased. He looked like Satan himself, so big and beautiful and filled with sex.

"Anywhere. Please."

"You live near here?" Tommy silently nodded. "Close?" Still nodding. "Very close?" The guy's voice was a growl of need.

"Up... upstairs. Over the cafe."

The guy's smile practically glowed. He started to stand, slowly, allowing Tommy to back off his stiff member and as he assumed his full towering height, his muscles seemed to stretch and expand, and he reached down and took his shorts from off his muscled body, stooping to pull them over his fat, firm thighs and then he stepped from them and held them in his hand. Totally naked, now. Gloriously so. Perfect and fine and huge and erect.

Tommy gulped as the guy's balls dropped down under that mammoth cock like two baseballs in a sack, and the man just stood there, nude, proud, huge and hard, looking down at Tommy. "After you," he said softly.

Looking up, Tommy was struck again by the overwhelming masculine power of the man before him. Steel-hard muscle, dark curls of hair dusting his bronzed flesh, the biggest fucking cock standing majestically over a pair of round, heavy balls. There was nothing, absolutely nothing wrong on the dude at all. He was perfect.

"Well?" he said. "Are we going to fuck or not?"

Tommy practically sprang through the door and sprinted up the stairs. He didn't even bother to lock up. •

This collection was originally created as a compressed archive for personal offline viewing
and is not intended to be hosted online or presented in any commercial context.

Any webmaster choosing to host or mirror this archive online
does so at their sole discretion.

Archive Version 070326