Hustler Sinbad: Book Two: Karl

I Meet My Double


By Jason Jarman

I kept the magic belt around my waist, buckled tight. It was hidden under my stolen coat. The coat barely wrapped around my shoulders and biceps. Whenever I moved too forcefully, I could hear the stitching weaken. Ditto, the crotch of my leather pants. It was hard not to be hard, all the time, and my cock was so long and thick it made walking a problem. I had to move very carefully.

My best bet, for the immediate future, was to get the hell out of town. I grabbed a Greyhound going one-way to Los Angeles. I knew I could get off at any stop that appealed to me and split.

I rode the bus for eight hours, my cock straining hard against my leather pants. The leather was warm and moist, and it fit perfectly to my legs and crotch. I touched my cock and I could feel every vein, every muscle in its shaft, just like I was naked. I kept the cowboy hat low on my head, so no one could really see my face. That, and the black leather trench coat, kept people away.

Beneath the coat was the magic belt. I stroked the buckle and it sent orgasmic waves of pleasure throughout my body. It was like coming, but without making a mess.

I slept through the night. In the morning, there was a rest stop. It looked like a big city. Lots of tall buildings in the skyline. I got off the Dog and walked away.

It felt good to stretch my legs. There was something else needed stretching, so I wandered around, horny and hungry, until I found an alleyway. It was dark and had a little cul-de-sac. I went there, let the force of my cock unbutton my pants, and stood there in the shadowed moonlight admiring my huge throbbing tool. It stood up even with my nipples, pulsing, its head red and shiny.

I stroked myself off a few times. My cumshots decorated the tops of many buildings. As I jacked, I felt like I could just keep coming and coming. My balls had an endless supply of cum in them.

I took off my trench coat and flexed my arms overhead. That activated the magic belt. My nipples were fully erect and the black sweaty leather tank top clung to my skin so tight you could see the veins in my pecs. I put the coat back on and tossed the sweatshirt.

I needed some money. I walked down a dark side street and saw the glow of an ATM coming up. There was my personal piggy bank!

I strutted right up, the brow of my hat cocked down so they couldn't see my face on camera, and killed the lens with my index finger. Then I ripped the ATM out of the wall like it was a piece of toilet paper.

I had to get rid of the wall to reach all the 20-dollar bills. There were a lot of them. I grabbed a sheaf about three inches thick. Then I picked up the ATM body and crammed it back into the wall. It was sparking and hissing. Except for some dents and cracks, it looked normal enough. That would sure confuse the cops when they got there.

To avoid said cops, I moved two streets over and caught the first bus I saw. There was hardly anyone else on the bus, and I went into the back. I had no idea where I was going, but it didn't matter.

A couple of stops later, he got on.

It was hard not to notice him. For one thing, he looked just like me!

We were really and truly twins. Same face, same height, same proportions. It was like looking into a mirror. He couldn't see my face because my hat was pulled down over my eyes, but I could sure as hell see him. He was huge. He had on black leather pants, very tight and revealing, a leather sea captain's cap, engineer's boots, and a red leather tank top and black leather motorcycle jacket. He wore mirrored sunglasses.

I saw the bottom half of his belt buckle. It was golden; diamond shaped and had an anchor and lightning bolt on it. Same as mine. His chest was five times bigger than his gut, so I instantly knew he was just like me.

He sat down three rows in front of me. I had to get close to him and try the one thing that would tell me for sure.

So I sat behind him, leaned in, and whispered the magic words in his ear:

"Shalah karali utum!"

His belt went haywire. The buckle throbbed and shot out a terrifically loud bolt of lightning. A bright flash filled the bus, and of course, everyone had a heart attack. It was hilarious. I couldn't help laughing.

The muscle boy turned around, freaked out. He pulled off his shades. Then he looked at my face, and I could tell that he noticed we were twins in the good looks department. "Damn."

"What's up, dog?"

He looked pissed. "Whut…"

"Hi, Sinbad. How's your magic belt treating you?"

"What the fuck you talkin about, dude?"

"Shalah karali utum!"

The buckle on his magic belt grew huge and crackled with fingers of lightning all over its surface. "Damn!" he said, as his the crotch of his tight leathers popped like a pistol shot.

"We better get off this bus, Sinbad," I said.

The driver was very happy to let us off, even though we were between stops. He looked upset. "These leathers cost a fucken grand."

"You can steal anything you want. Why get pissed?"

"Who the fuck are you?" He looked in my eyes.

"I'm you, Sinbad. And you're me."

"Whut?" He was dumb as dirt, some hillbilly boy before the magic belt changed him. He was angry and confused, and his magic belt was activated. The buckle throbbed fast and hard. I could see that his heart rate was high.

"It's pretty obvious, dog. We both were given one of the same magic belts. Did yours have these syringes of gold stuff?"

Hesitantly, he said "yeh."

"And you injected them in both biceps, then strapped on the belt?"

"Uh huh."

"Did your face and hair change when you first used the belt?"

"Uh, yeah." He looked suspicious of me.

"'Cause it's fucking amazing, the resemblance. Here, check it out." We were beside a building with a big mirrored window. We stood there and took a good, long look. Our faces were exactly the same. His hair was styled differently than mine, and had some coloring in it. He had a whole bunch of piercings and tattoos, which I didn't. But our eyes, noses, lips, jawline, chin, etc. etc. etc., were dead-on identical.

Our muscles were the same. The proportions of our bodies were just alike. Our chests were five times bigger than our waists. Our thighs were twice the width of our guts, and our baskets bulged out pretty much the same. His cock went down the left leg, and mine went down the right, but the mushroom heads rested right above the kneecap.

"Flex your biceps," I said. I did the same, and our peaks were almost identical. His were smaller than mine, but I had discovered the secret phrase that made the magic belt more powerful. I had that advantage over him.

"Dude," he said.

"We are the two strongest, sexiest studs in the world, Sinbad. You and I. We could rule the world with our magic belts. Every time we pull our belts tight, we're musclegods."

"Yeh." I could see his cock start to get hard.

"I can pick up a fucking semi truck over my head."

He got harder. "I pulled a fucken house out of the ground, dude."

"Yeah?" Now I was getting hard.

"Dude. Fucken threw it fourteen miles across town!"

"Let's see how strong we are together."

His cock pressed up against the shiny tight leather. "Dude, yeah."

I looked around. Shit, this was a big city. Finally, I spotted this weird-ass office building. It was 40 stories tall or so, and it tapered down from a normal-size skyscraper to a stem like a wine glass. The stem was about 12 feet around at its base.

I pointed at the building. "I'll bet we can lift that building."

He smiled. "Shit, yeh."

"We need all the muscle we can get. Yank on my magic belt, stud. I'll do yours. Ready?"

In unison, we said: "Magic belt, this is Sinbad, your master. Give me the strength I deserve." Our buckles grew huge and shots of lightning coursed between them. "Pull hard!" I shouted.

He grabbed onto my strap with both hands and pulled with impressive strength. I felt the leather crushing my waist, getting tighter and hotter and tighter and hotter.

I pulled his belt with one hand, yanking the leather up to his forehead. He groaned and grimaced as his body accepted the bolts of sheer power. The power of both belts connected and I was getting bigger than I'd been yet. At the peak of the pull, I shouted the magic phrase: Shalah karali utum! Over and over again. It gave us both more notches.

"Keep pulling!"

He tightened my belt to its 21st notch. I got him to 23. After I buckled his belt, shoving the fiery buckle down on the leather, I kissed the strap. It really tasted good. I licked it and let it go. The strap wrapped around his waist a couple of times.

He let my strap loose and it wrapped around my hips and waist. My chest was so big it covered my chin. His body was unbelievable. His chest was 20 times the width of his waist. His biceps had to be 60 inches around. His neck was the size of a fucking oak tree.

We leaped over to the building and began chipping away at the base with our fists. It was like solid marble, but it gave as we punched, slivered away. At the base of the marble was a super-hard six-foot thick titanium steel foundation. (I found this out later.)

We bent it back and forth, and it slowly stressed out until we could pull it apart. I had to say the magic phrase several times so we both had enough muscle power to finish off the trick. Finally, the metal split apart and we held the building in our four mighty arms.

We lifted it over our heads. It was heavy as shit, but we were so strong we could do it forever.

Then he asked, "Um, now what do we do with this?"

"Ah, just let it drop. Someone else can clean it up."

He looked worried. "What if people get killed, dude?"

"What do you care? Repeat after me: Shalah karali utum!"

"Shawlaw karawli ootum… damn!" His biceps swelled out more, his pecs enlarged and his gut got even smaller.

"You can fly. Did you know that?"

"Yeah, I figgered that out already."

"Leap up with me. One, two… three!"

We soared up into the air, somehow taking this multi-ton building with us. In a second, we were high over the city, overlooking the bay. I looked down on the waterfront property. Then I got a funny idea. "Hey, let's stick this on the beach down there!"

He laughed. "Fuckin A, dude. That's fucken hilarious." We swooped downward, taking care to give enough resistance that the building didn't go down too fast.

We landed on the ground with a terrific thud. The pavement broke beneath my feet. I watched shock waves travel up a street and a couple of nice homes got very fucked up.

Sirens went off, and I didn't want to see the cops so soon, so I got him to help me jam the base deep down into the sand. The skyscraper was right on the water, the tides lapping the lobby of the structure.

Just as the building settled into the wet sand, down to the third story, the red and blue lights came toward us. "Let's haul ass, sailor!" I swept up into the sky and he followed.

We swooped up atop a bridge and looked down at the confusion and chaos. They looked like ants, swarming around that big building jammed into the water and sand. The two of us laughed hysterically.

As I watched him, his face relaxed and happy, I got the gigantic hots for him. It was such a weird sensation to see myself sitting in front of me, and to realize that I liked the way I looked. I unbuttoned my leathers and let my cock get some fresh air.

"Whoa! That's some serious cock, dude!"

"Show me yours."

He carefully undid his pants and let his cock spring up to life. It was a little thicker than mine, but mine was longer. I stroked his cock and felt its muscular shaft and the big stubby veins that covered its surface. He groaned, and then he touched my cock.

"You're fucken hot," he said.

"So are you," I said. "Kiss me."

He did. We made out like madmen up on top of that bridge. The wind whipped our hair into our eyes. His cock rested against the bottom of my pecs. I stroked it and he reached down and began to pump mine.

"Suck my cock," I said. "Kiss it good."

He knelt down and licked the long long shaft of my majestic hard-on. Then he took the mushroom head into his mouth and pleasured me with his lips and his tongue. I continued to stroke his big throbber and noticed it was getting harder and longer. I touched the head teasingly, because that's where the real pleasure is. He moaned hard.

He kept pumping my cock, and finally I felt that massive rush of cum up my shaft, like a freight train. I pulled my belt a notch tighter as I came, and I'd say a couple of gallons of sweet hot cum shot out of my big hard dick. He lapped it up, greedily. He paused to catch his breath and say, "Damn, dude, you should taste this! It's fucken delicious! Here…"

He leaned up and kissed me, Frenched me with his mouth full of my cum. It did indeed taste wonderful… sweet and rich and slightly spicy. I felt its warmth run down my throat, like whiskey on a cold night.

I decided I wanted more, so for a change I got on my knees and face-fucked his deep red cock, licking the thick veins, teasing the long, muscular shaft and then settling in on the plump, inviting mushroom at the top.

He was ready to go, and as I massaged his bloated balls, I could feel the force of the cum firing up the shaft like ammo. I braced myself for the impact.

If anything, his cum was sweeter than mine! It was addictive. I wanted all I could get and more. I milked his balls and stroked his shaft to encourage more of that manna out of his system. It made me feel alive and strong and invincible to drink down that heavenly nectar.

We both lay back on the huge beams of the bridge. I'd forgotten about the fracas below. I peered over the edge of the bridge to see the highly amusing ants scrambling around, all upset, so confused, so pitiful and forgettable.

I thought for a moment how much fun it would be to rip this bridge up and drop it on them. To hover up here and see the big twisted pieces of steel and wire plummet downward to squash them all.

Thinking about that made me get hard again. I was ready to go once more. "If you want seconds, I'm ready," I said to him.

He grunted and shot up to his knees. I felt his thick warm lips on my cockhead. As he nursed, I thought at great length about some of the fun I could have, with this limitless strength in my possession. I imagined floods and fires and catastrophes, and I must confess that I got off on those visions. They made me harder than I'd ever been before.

As I came, gasping between bursts, my mirror image guzzling down my thick sweet cum, I knew that I was going to have to do something about those visions. And soon. •

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