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Return of Lester, The
|After unloading about a gallon of fresh muscle cum, Lester was more horned up
than ever. Nothing turned him on more than his ability to fuck like an animal
for hours on end, never loosing his insatiable drive for more sex and muscle no
matter how many times he made a girl cream.
Superman started to get up from his knees, but Lester held him down for a bit longer. “Where do you think you’re going, boy? That was fun, but we’re not done.” To prove his point, Lester looked down and pointed at his thick magnum dick, still hard as ever and oozing with fresh cum. “Big daddy’s not satisfied yet.”
Superman’s eyes went wide. “Shoot me up with some of that heat vision,” Lester commanded. Superman had no choice but to comply with the insatiable methed-up freak in front of him. Superman put his hand to his eyes and concentrated, shooting out a red laser beam of sizzling heat onto Lester’s abs and chest.
Lester arched his back into the wall as Superman’s heat vision hammered his thick chest and stacked abs. “FUUUUCK YEAHHHH,” he bellowed as his skin turned red and sweat started to pour down his entire body. His entire body started steaming, the same way it did after a hard workout in the train yards on a cold winter day. “Fuckin’ work this muscle, Supes. Power it up. Feels like I just shot up with some more crystal.”
Superman moved up toward Lester’s traps, working them good with a ray of heat vision. Lester’s zits started popping, and his dick started growing even more as he got off on the intense muscle massage Superman was giving him. Before long, Lester had turned around so Superman could work over his mammoth back and he found himself grinding up on the wall of the sewer. The wall started to crumble against the force of Lester’s tool.
Lester shot another huge load, totally encasing the wall – or what was left of it – in his muscle juice. He turned around to face Superman, who had fallen back exhausted. He’d never used his heat vision for such an extended period of time. And he’d never had such an intense battle-slash-fuck session with anyone!
“Alright, boy, you’re done. I guess I won’t crush you like a grape,” Lester said. He ripped off Superman’s cape and draped it around his back. It was quite a sight to see: the drugged-up, poor white trash deadbeat, freakishly muscular and covered in tats, now wearing the symbol of truth, justice and the American way. It only covered about a quarter of his barn-door frame, and when he put his fists on his waist and flared out his big boulder lats, the cape was practically swallowed by his sheer bulk. Lester would need a parachute to use as a cape if he ever went the superhero route. But for now he was content with just beating down superheroes.
Lester picked Superman up with one arm and flung him over his massive delt. I could hold two or three Supermans on this bad boy delt, Lester thought to himself as he climbed out of the sewer tunnel and back above land.
As he lifted out of the tunnel, Lester noticed that they were surrounded by cop cars. Must’ve been waiting for Big Blue to reel me in. He heard a collective gasp from the crowd of cops and onlookers as they saw their hero sprawled out on this drugged-out, roided-up freak’s shoulders.
Lester walked right up to the cops and put Superman on the hood of their car. They started to back away as he got closer, grabbing for their guns. Lester noticed the big powerlifter cop he had taken down right before he had worked over Mr. G. He backed away the most and held out his gun to keep Lester away. Lester noticed that his face was still black and blue from slamming against the pavement, not to mention the few brick walls Big Les drove him through before he mounted him and got ready to fuck. If only that lard ass loser Mr. G hadn’t interrupted, Lester thought.
Lester eyed Superman’s limp frame sprawled on the cop car, then turned to the cops. “Is this who you sent to reel me in, boys?” he snarled, still pumped and cocky from the beat-down he gave the Man of Steel. “You’re gonna need a stronger guy if you wanna touch this fuckin’ muscle. I could take on five Supermans and not break a sweat.” With that, Lester clamped his paws down on the cop car, sending it flying it back and crashing into a few more police vehicles, a domino chain of destruction fueled by the strongest man alive.
The cops all took cover real fast, unsure what Lester would do next. But looking around at the warzone he’d created while shoulder pressing, wrestling with Superman, and fucking around with the cops, Lester was satisfied with his work for the day. Besides, he wanted to get home before his triple dose of meth power wore off. He was about to show Mikey what a Superman-crusher could do.
* * * Lester pulled up to Mikey’s house feeling unstoppable. He banged on the door, even though he just wanted to tear it down and go get some jock ass. Surprisingly, some old guy answered the door. Must’ve been Mikey’s father back from out of town, Lester thought.
Mikey’s dad took a step back when he saw the super-sized behemoth in front of him. “Well, I’ll be dammed,” he patted Lester on the back as he invited him in with a warm grin. “You’re a big boy. Just as big as my son…”
“Bigger,” Lester injected, adding, “Where’s Mikey now?” He wasn’t interested in small talk with this old foagie.
Mikey’s dad took a moment to look Lester in the face, then put his hand to his chin as if he was pondering something. “Hey…are you, by any chance…Lenny? No. Lance? No. Lester? Yeah. Lester?”
Lester nodded his head starkly, as Mikey’s dad kept going on and on. “Lester, my man!! Why didn’t you say something? You’ve been courting my daughter Angela. She can’t say enough good about you.”
Lester hadn’t spoken to Angela in days. She called nearly every day, and he returned her calls whenever he needed to get off and Mikey wasn’t around.
“So what are you doing here with my son?” Mikey’s dad asked. “Training, I guess?” he said as he flexed his flabby old man arm.
Lester nodded again. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
“You boys can’t get big enough, can ya?” Mikey’s father said and chuckled. “Be careful, you don’t wanna get too big for the ladies.” He playfully poked Lester in his chest, and Lester wanted to just toss him right through the wall. Would Mikey mind if he killed his father, Lester wondered. Now that made he smirk.
Finally, Mikey’s father relented. “Okay, son, it was great meeting you. Mikey’s down in the basement pumping some iron. I’ll see ya.”
Finally. Lester made his way downstairs and found Mikey benching. That small-talk was a real boner killer, but once he saw big jock boy toy, he was right back in the game. His blood started pumping and he felt all his meth-induced strength flowing back into him.
Mikey racked the weight when he heard Lester come stomping down the stairs. “Hey, man, good you’re here. Now I can get to 1500 in the bench press. Spot me, dude.”
“I don’t think so, man. Not now.” Lester walked right up to Mikey and grabbed him by his waist. “I had a real good time downtown. Leveled a few city blocks with this muscle.”
Mikey tried to push him away. “Fuck, man, how cranked up are you?”
“Double dose, junior,” Lester said and smirked. He pumped his arms into the air and displayed his 30 inches of bicep muscle with pride, eying the thick veins snaking around the mounds of meat that were twice the size of most guys’ heads. “You’re not going anywhere ‘fore you feel up this beast real good.”
“Les, man I gotta finish my workout…”
Lester wasn’t hearing it. He pushed Mikey into the basement wall and grinded against him. Mikey couldn’t match the power of the methed-up juiced-up freak in front of him.
“Ya want to hear something else?” Lester asked as he started breathing hot and heavy on Mikey’s neck. “You’re lookin’ at the freak who just took down Superman.”
Mikey pushed Lester’s face away. “DUDE, what the fuck are you ON?! Superman?! Who are you kidding? Fuckin’ meth head hallucinating. Either spot me or get the fuck out.” Now Lester was pissed. He grabbed Mikey by his armpits and powered him up on the wall, holding him with one hand. “You been real good to me boy, but don’t think I won’t let you have a taste of this muscle power again.”
Lester tossed Mikey to the other side of the room, and it was time to loose his tank top again. He crunched into a crab shot and declared, “I’m more cranked up than ever. And you’re just beggin' to be my bitch.” Before Mikey could get up, Lester had clamped his big bear paws on him and lifted him overhead. “I shoulder pressed a bunch of cars today, boy! This is nothing.”
Lester threw Mikey down and was about to follow up with some more punishment when he noticed that the jockboy was sprouting wood. "You like how Big Lester can throw you around, boy? You hot for this big man's strength? Well try this out for size..." With that, he grabbed hold of the 1500 pounds Mikey had been bench pressing, heaved hard, and threw it over his head one with hand. "How's this for some real strength, boy?" He started to pump it up and down, inflating his huge hard shoulders with more muscle mass. "OH YEAH! Superman crushing strength right here. Coleman wishes he could match this muscle. And so do you."
Mikey was getting horned up looking at the super-stud in front of him. So huge. So powerful. Totally unstoppable. No one could even put a hand on Lester, not even Mikey. This scared him, but it turned him on even more. He started to inch his was over to Lester, trying to hold back from ejaculating each time his tool rubbed against the cold concrete floor. Lester threw down the weight and noticed his new disciple. He reached down and lifted Mikey up to his face, and the two started to make out. "You're gettin' me horned up again, junior...there's not enough weight to fuckin' lift...gotta fuck..."
"Am I gonna fuck your pecs again, big guy?" Mikey asked.
"Not this time, junior," Lester replied as he turned Mikey around and hoisted him up to his chest. Holding him there with one arm, Lester ripped off his pants and let loose his raging cock with the other. Fuck, I've already shot my load twice today, Lester thought. And it just keeps getting better each time. Can't stop this muscle beast. Lester eased Mikey's muscle butt onto his dick as he started to penetrate the big jockboy with more and more force.
Mikey's eyes went wide as he realized what Lester was doing. He had never been fucked up the ass before, and it didn't help that Lester's magnum cock wasn't exactly "starter size." He gasped as Lester entered further and further into him. "Loosen up, boy," Lester commanded. "I'm gonna pump you full of my muscle man jizz." Lester started to lift Mikey's 425 pounds up and down, letting his big back rest on the L-man's chest and abs. "Yeah, that's right, lemme get in there boy. You know you want this."
And Mikey did. He felt less pain and more...well, pure ecstasy. Lester was tapping into his soul, the same way he had tapped into Lester with their tongue-on-tongue kiss. "Fuck me, you big stud!" Mikey yelled. And Lester did, shooting a big huge load straight into Mikey's ass. He let Mikey down gently to the floor, and he collapsed exhausted with pleasure. Lester, in contrast, stood tall, his dick sprouting out hard, long, and ready for more. He could’ve ass-fucked an entire football team at that moment, leaving each linebacker beggin for mercy then beggin for more.
But then suddenly, there was a noise from the top of the basement steps. It was Mikey's dad. "You boys okay?" he said in his unaffected, cheery old man tone. Thankfully, he didn't look downstairs to see Lester butt-fucking his son in his own house. Lester grinned. The old man didn't irk him as much now that he had gotten some action from Mikey's sweet ass. "We're just fine, Pops. Just fine. I'm showin' your boy some...tricks." He winked at Mikey. They dressed and went upstairs, walking outside to Lester's truck
"Alright, boy. You wanna train?" Lester asked. "Get real huge like Big Daddy Lester?" Mikey nodded. They got in the truck, both raring to go. As Lester started the engine, Mikey picked up something from the floor of the vehicle. A red cape with yellow insignia on it. He was dumfounded. "Dude...what the..." Lester smiled as he started the engine, thinking about how Mikey was holding onto a piece of his destiny: he was gonna mold the big jockboy into bigger, stronger behemoth of unstoppable muscle. He was gonna make him Superman.
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