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La Jolla, the homecoming
|Thanks to a remarkable career activated by my muscles on the screen and some very wise investments, I was able to afford the shipment of these tons of marble to my place in La Jolla. I�m 28 now, and I started my career as a competing bodybuilder at the age of 16, when I won various Junior contests and eventually proceeded to pro contests where I did very well indeed, thanks as much to my posing ability and my looks, I guess, as to my physique: they certainly won me some very lucrative contracts for Hercules-type action movies. I enjoyed them but, once you�ve reached the top in that profession, there isn�t much further to go, so I enjoyed myself with a lot of guest posing and magazine spreads, but my chief occupation was making money and movies and hunting up muscle-sex with the most desirable muscle guys I could find.
My hobby is ancient statuary, and I have a few choice pieces scattered around the big gym I have overlooking the ocean - none, however, to compare with the couple of marble gods I had now imported to their more temperate setting on the Pacific. I spent many happy hours cleaning and polishing those two remarkable hunks and they never failed to give me a lot of heightened sensual pleasure as I caressed their hard, smooth, amazing muscles. God, how the sculptor must have loved him! Or them, if they were twins
I placed them at one end of the gym, right by the doors that opened up to the pool terrace. Now I could see them in full light, their magnificence, their sensuality was even more marked than in those dusty Athenian shadows. My loving polishing and burnishing of the muscles that seemed to want to burst from the marble restored them to their full glory. They were remarkably undamaged in any way (just as well, as I was to find out later) and now I could see them properly I was struck by the incredible husky beauty of their faces as well as their most covetable muscles which now shone and gleamed in the sunlight as if they had a thin coating of oil, spread by some too-loving hands. Mine, now, and didn�t they make me horny as steel?
Though they were naked in every other way - now that their coat of dust had been removed - I could see that they both wore armbands above their swelling left biceps and the kneeling giant also wore a leather "master�s" harness which enclosed the huge slabs of his superb pecs and gave them an even greater air of Mastery. I went to bed that third night, when they were finally clean and shining and wonderful and bright myself off three times before I went to sleep, imagining myself enclosed in their great arms, their huge quads wrapped around my waist - and did I mention the monstrous dicks which my mouth or any other part ,my anatomy could never satisfy? Yet.
Tossing and turning half the night, every part of me zinging with desire, imagining myself wrestling in oil with the two of them, desperately trying to master the unmasterable as I slithered and fought with every limb and part of their godlike bodies , and, yes, Me, the all-time Top, never to be fucked, I was giving in to their every desire. So, after the third load of cum, I finally slept, dreaming I heard them/him calling to me through the sound of the waves lapping at the foot of my beach. I drifted off with the sensation of two huge muscle-rods filling me, turn by turn���� I dreamed I was walking along my beach, my feet lapped in the greedy shallows, when I met them lying on the beach, just as I found them in Athens. They stood up and came to greet me, towering over me, making this Olympia "winner" look and feel like an adolescent idiot before them. They started to feel my body: gently stroking my bis, bending my arm to make them flex, running both (all four) hands down my thick quad, squeezing my pecs and twisting my nips. Then they embraced each other with me squeezed between their mighty pecs. I looked up through the striated clefts to see them kissing above my head. One of them guided my hands to their dicks and, even as I started to stroke the satin sheaths, they swelled and swelled, achieving magnificent lengths so that I could not get a hand completely round one of them.
The one behind me picked me so that my face was level with the other�s and, as his lips grew so close to mine that I could not focus on his eyes, I felt myself being lowered so that my butt met his impossibly huge and throbbing dick - I could feel the impatient throb against my butthole and , even as it started to demand entrance, I woke up - bathed in sweat and sweet cum which I massaged into my hard eight-pack and my bursting pecs as if it was a gift of their masculinity��
When I woke up, a boner of all boners was tenting the sheet and demanding immediate release from my questing hands. But as I lay there I thought of a better way to release myself and at the same time, to fulfil at least some of the dream-fantasy.
I had a quick shower - another temptation - a huge protein shake, and told the houseboy to take the day off - at once. What I had in mind didn�t need an audience.
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