Big is Better



By XHuge4Muscl

Just how two guys eventually find each other in this world is as much a beguiling miracle as it is a bewildering mystery to me. To say that the laws of probability were completely suspended for both me and my awfully big 'other half' seems a gross understatement. But somehow - call it fate or whatever - our paths nevertheless crossed in this life. We have an altogether unusual relationship by almost any common measure imaginable. You may well think our relationship is even abnormal or frankly just bizarre. Nevertheless we're inseparably locked together now by the spell of some unseen sorcerer. Together, we're something far beyond what you might call merely psychic soul-mates. And I, for one, do believe there is a God in this universe who watches out for us all.

I'm Pete, by the way. Peter - that's my given Christian name. Without any doubt, my name was clearly meant as a biblical reference by my parents. Admittedly, I've wondered though from time to time - and even as I pen this now - if perhaps they may have had some other possible reference in mind when they'd chosen that particular name for me, but.... I'll never really know.

I first met Samson when I was 19 years old. Even the exact date is easy to remember, for oddly it was also on my birthday. Sam would have been about 29 back then. We are the proverbial 'Mutt and Jeff' couple, too. We are total and complete opposites; the oddest pair that you may ever run across. But just like that old saying goes, in our case opposites do seem to attract. It's been over 9 years now since we first met and the bond between us is still so powerful that it can scare me at times. He's so much more than just my better 'other half'. In the physical sense, Sam is two-thirds of this relationship anyway, tipping the scales at very easily twice my own body weight - and I suspect it's considerably more. I still get a raging hard-on just observing Sam as he stands over the kitchen sink, doing nothing particularly sexier than slugging his way through a mound of dirty dishes. To me he is the living definition of everything that is sensual and masculine. His body commands my immediate and total attention; it oozes raw sexual power in even the subtlest of physical movements. Among the very small numbers of unchallenged living male deities in the world, Sam stands supremely as Zeus in my mind anyway.

As to which one of us is actually 'the god' and which is 'the monster' - well you'll doubtlessly form your own opinion. I think that I'm 'a monster' and Sam is clearly 'a god' but Sam probably sees this exactly the other way around, not too surprisingly.

I've been toying with the idea of writing our story for awhile now. When I asked Sam if he'd mind at all, he just sort of chuckled a bit and shook his head - that's his way of saying, "Not a problem." Literally nothing ever bothers or worries him while everything seems to bother me. Knowing him as well as I do, I don't even expect that he will actually ever read this. Sam is not illiterate mind you, but he's also never been much of a reader. He visibly struggles with it. Whenever he can get away with it, he'll willingly defer that chore to me. His early childhood educational experience was frankly just awful, and his basic skills sadly suffered as a direct result. He was among the unfortunates who somehow completely slipped through the cracks in our public educational system. Sam didn't ask me to use pennames to protect our privacy. The very concept is most likely completely foreign to him. I felt I should do that anyway so I'm taking the liberty to change our names in this - our story.

I want to begin this by taking you, the reader, back to a time long before Sam and I ever set eyes on each other. This is about my own roots and... •

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