"OK, bro, so it’s my turn. You took long enough not cumming - let’s see how long you can endure my double-long beer-can dick. How d’you want it?"

"On my back - those nips of yours need a work out before we take them down to the Club."

So saying, he threw his amazingly thick quads - thicker than a man’s waist - round his brother’s waist and squeezed.

"Get that fuckin’ muscle rod inside and get on with it!"

And so the "double-long beer-can dick" slammed its way into its bro’s fuck-chute, pumping mercilessly while the bottom bro twisted his top bro’s 1 ½ inch nips. Any "mortal" man would have screamed, either from the punishing fuck or from the fingernails twisting the nips, but these two twins were beyond all that.

They had lost their (rich) parents while still in college where they were the champion wrestlers, joint winners of the Collegiate bodybuilding contests, and any other muscle-jock activities going - including the muscle-leather fraternity they had originated there in their late teens. Now the poor little rich boys were in their late twenties - highly successful in their stock market dealings, they could afford to indulge themselves in the only two things that really mattered to them - muscle and leather - and they indulged themselves to the max.

They were both huge - could have won any contest they chose to enter but found the politics of that scene too boring. Instead they got their kicks from monster workouts, and monster fuck sessions, both with each other and quite often with some lucky muscle-guy they would find in a gym or a leather bar. Unfortunately the requisite standard of guys with muscle+leather was all too low and they had to hunt far and wide for suitable prey. Luckily they had both the money and the equipment to go far afield.

Tonight they were revving themselves up for a hunt in the leather-bars of L.A. If they didn’t find anyone, they’d enjoy taking it out - or shoving it in - on each other just as much - though they still lived in the hope of finding a suitable candidate for their games - games which were not without their rewards, but we’‘ll come to that later. The two great things about hunting in L.A. were the preponderance of available muscle studs and the fact that their home, and their massive amounts of equipment, were on the top of a hill at nearby San Luis Obispo.

As the two twin-studs got on with the "preparations" for their evening out, you could hardly tell the difference between them. Both were six foot three, weighing about 290 pounds, both had short dark, curly hair, strong cleft jaws, deep blue eyes, two-day stubble, and identical massive, mature muscles: from the thick pillars of their necks, past the huge delts, cleft football biceps, thick horseshoe triceps, via the granite slabs of pecs and thick, thick 8-pack abs, past the unbelievable fuck-rods (especially when, as now, erect), down the upper legs where each of the four quad muscles stood out in sharp, thick, massive relief, to the amazing calfs which were as thick or thicker than their necks. In fact, the only way you could tell them apart were the tattoos they both had on their left delts: one had a Greek Alpha, the other an Omega.

Just at the minute, Omega was enjoying his brother’s thick dick power-fucking his greedy fuck hole while he grabbed on to the thick, juicy pecs above him. Alpha was incited by the pain in his huge nips into giving his bro the fuck of his life. Both men were shining with sweat and sex, every muscle tensing and flexing in their supreme sexual partnership. To see their muscles writhing and ramming would make any man - straight or otherwise - cum on the spot. These two monstrous muscle machines were so in tune with each other’s desires and demands that, as their muscles, dicks and holes all ground against each other, slippery with their pre-cum and sweat, the twin fucking bodies seemed to merge into one sexual whole - one huge demanding muscle-dick.

Alpha yelled "Nearly there!" and pulled his fucker out of his brother’s tight hole with and explosive pop. He stood astride Omega’s waist, his gigantic nut-sack swinging against his brother’s ready-to-burst fuckrod, and both giants grabbed the other’s dick to jerk them off. They came simultaneously with obscene roars.

"Fuck you, you fucking great muscle-cunt! Yeah…..! Jet that fuckin’ muscle juice on to my fuckin’ great abs!"

Two torrential streams of muscle-cum poured out on to Omega’s flexed abs, minutes passed and still they jetted. Alpha was doing his best to contain the double stream into a pond of gism on his brother’s abs where it cascaded down and around the massy ropes of his eight-pack.

The two streams mingled and then it happened. The gism seemed to boil unnaturally on Omega’s stomach for a few moments - as it coalesced it began to crystallize into an ab-load of sparkling powder.

"Hey, Man! Get it off me - can’t lie here for ever!"

Alpha gathered the crystals into the palms of both meaty hands and moved to pour them on to a lucite sheet where they sparkled like diamonds. He placed another sheet on top and proceeded to crush the crystals into powder. Omega got up and added a few more he had extracted from his pubes to the mix. Then the powder was poured into a platinum vial - for later.

"That’ll do fine"

The two muscle monsters turned to each other. Two fucking beautiful hunks, with fucking great muscles to die for. They gently traced the muscles on each other’s arms, felt each other’s swollen pecs, moved round the giant lats to caress each other’s great backs. Their wide, full luscious lips met in a lover’s kiss and their tongues explored those inner recesses. Their pecs and abs and dicks mashed against each other as their kiss developed into a hard, tough, muscular embrace. Their twin dicks rose to their 16" heights and slipped and slid across the other’s sweaty abs, once again mixing with the copious pre-cum that oozed out of their massive hard fuckpoles.

"Love ya bro, but we must save this all up for tonight’s adventure."

"Sure - let’s shower and get dressed, huh?"

Showering of course, in the same shower, was a dangerous exploit, but they were able - barely - to restrain themselves to a mere soapy muscle-admiration session. They got dried and proceeded to dress.

First, the thick metal cock-rings that shoved all their equipment well forward. Then the black leather biker jeans, - so tight, you might wonder how they could move as the leather caressed and compressed those huge quads inside the black second-skin. But the leather was well-accustomed to accommodating the muscle as it clung to and emphasized each massive striation. The pants were fronted by a studded, well-worn, very capacious codpiece. It needed to be. Short athletic socks, then the scuffed and scarred biker boots.

They stood up and admired each other: huge muscled torsos swelling up out of the black leather. Their dicks began to swell and harden in the cod-pieces - which were also well-accustomed to containing the monstrous sex equipment. A wriggle here and there and everything squeezed into place.

They helped each other into the identical leather/chain harnesses which framed and set off their giant slabs of veined pecs. Then they attached each other’s bicep straps above the left muscle which seemed to pump up massively under the leather. Finally the biker jackets. These were so well-worn - as was all their leather - that they seemed to welcome the arrival of the muscles inside them. The shining leather had been stretched so thin by the ever increasing muscular development of these two guys that their biceps, triceps, lats, traps filled the leather to such an extent that it literally became a second skin, highlighting the details of the giant muscles within.

Picking up their identical biker caps, they set off.

Up went the automatic garage doors and the two huge and of course identical Harleys roared out on to the road. Down the hill and through San Luis Obispo - where they were a sight well-known and much admired - an on to the highway towards L.A. They had selected The Club for tonight’s hunt as it was a well-known hangout for muscle guys, off-duty "escorts", and the occasional Tom of Finland muscle stud. Leather "queens" were not admitted - brand-new leather from the speciality stores was frowned on and suspect. You, and your leather, had to be the real thing and you could only be admitted if you also either had leather or muscle or, preferably, both. The grape-vine had informed our two twin studs of some German visitors who sounded promising.

There were about forty other Harleys etc parked outside The Club, overseen by the two bouncers, a pair of frightening ex-Hell’s Angel types who knew the twins well. Copping a squeeze and a pummel here and there on that well-filled leather, they unlocked the door for the twins. They descended into darkness. •