Sam began to just literally toss that very big barbell around, doing nonstop back-to-back series of different kinds of lifts with it, repeating each lift many times before he moved on to begin the next one. For his first lift, Sam started with the bar in from of his thighs, and pulled the loaded barbell up to his chest using his arms and lowered it down again. Then Sam switched his grip and, bending over horizontally, he began pulling the bar up into his chest and then releaseing it slowly back down again. Next he sat down on a nearby bench and, leaning back, began pushing the bar up off his chest until his arms were nearly straight and lowered it slowly back down to his chest. Next he stood up and, dropping the bar behind his head, raised the bar straight over his head and lowered it back behind his neck. Then resting the bar behind his neck across his shoulders, he changed his grip and squatted down to the floor and stood back up again. For his final lift, he stood tall and began pushing the bar straight-up over his head and then letting it back down to his shoulders. Each lift was simply awe-inspiring. That barbell was a very heavily-loaded mother, too - I'd seen the heavy bar bend a bit from the weights the very first time Sam had lifted it. I could read the poundage printed on the side of the outside plate. After counting the number of plates on each side, I quickly calculated how much weight Samson had been lifting non-stop with such eye-popping ease for, I guessing, perhaps 15 minutes. I wasn't about to miss one moment by checking the clock on the gym wall. I was more than just impressed. I was astounded - and stiffer, certainly. Sam had been effortlessly lifting this weight for more than a quarter hour. I would not have been able to lift it cleanly even one time, and even then, only at the extreme risk of seriously injuring myself!

Sam finally set that particular barbell down, and he did so just as effortlessly as when he'd picked it up originally.

There was no sign of any sweat anywhere on him, and his breathing wasn't labored either, even after such a very long time of non-stop lifting. Overall, it appeared that Sam had just expended the total energy needed to twist the top off a Bud. This guy really was in incredible shape and had a degree of stamina that was unfathomable to me. In a way I knew he just had to be, of course, but I guess seeing really is believing - suddenly Sam had become much more real, and therefore unreal to me both at the same time. And his strength - those big muscles of his! I was at the point of starting to get rock hard myself. 'Little Johann' had transformed into 'Johann, The Magnificent'.

I started clapping my hands and whooping and hollering and stamping my feet, all to show Sam just how much I'd enjoyed it.

"Sam, that was u-n-b-e-l-i-e-v-a-b-l-e lifting!! I've never even seen anything like that... and you repeated them over-and-over again, just so many times! God, how'd you...."

"That's a rep, Pete. It's called a repetition," Sam interrupted, for my educational enlightenment.

"I mean WOW - you ARE strong! Seeing you lift was a terrific birthday present! Really, that was best I EVER had! Thank you!"

Sam looked genuinely very puzzled and confused for a few moments. Suddenly, he just buckled over with laughter.

"Oh no... no... no... Pete..." Sam was gasping for air in between belly-laughs. "No, Pete. You mean that? What I was just doin'? That wasn't no LIFTIN', Pete. That weren't LIFTIN' at all! I was just loosenin' up a bit!!!" Then Sam started roaring again, banging uncontrollably on those oak trees of his with his hands.

The guy was just busting up totally! I'd just witnessed what was to me, without a doubt, the hottest thing I'd ever seen in my life. Damn, it sure looked like deadly-serious lifting to me. Little Johann sure thought so to. Well Sam sure thought this was extremely funny, but I was uncertain what he meant really, and feeling foolish about feeling foolish, if you know what I mean. I didn't like being somehow 'in the dark' about something that still seemed like a private joke.

Finally after too long a time of genuinely enjoying himself seemingly at my expense, Sam finally slowly collected himself back together... Well, sort of anyway....

"Now..." Sam started to chuckle again but then quickly checked it, probably seeing from the expression on my face that I wasn't all-that-amused anymore, I think.

He composed himself for a few seconds, and then apparently finally conquering his bad case of the giggles, Sam was able to finish his thought. "Now... O.K... Now this HERE'S where you might want to sit up and pay attention, Pete."

Did Sam really think I'd been napping? I'd been watching him so intently that I doubt that I blinked my eyes even once for fear of missing even a millisecond. Moreover, my heart was already pounding to the point where I could hear it in my ears.

"This here part - what I'm gonna do now - this'll be your 1st birthday wish."

"My 1st wish, Sam?" I thought maybe there was a nuance here I'd missed before.

"Yeh, your 1st wish. I'm hopin' you're gon'na make more of 'em tonight, 'cause I really want to... well... just remember- whatever 'ya want, Pete. All 'ya got'ta do is remember that genie," he winked.

Sam walked over to another rack which held very different bars than the kind he'd just used. These were very long and some seriously THICK pieces of solid steel - at least the size of those used for Olympic lifts, though for some reason I thought that these bars were specially-made - and even larger. After looking over several possibilities, Sam finally selected one.

"These here," Sam said, eyeing and rubbing the bar almost fondly, "cost me lots of money. Must'a saved up for near' a whole year 'fore I could 'ford to buy these here babies. They's made 'o real TY-TANE-YUME, they is!"

He walked over and placed it across a low support stand that sat near the middle of the platform in front of me. He proceeded to load several pairs of those locomotive wheel-sized weights on both ends of that bar, collaring them all in place. This was genuine 'big iron' - the real McCoys - a size that you wouldn't find even in a large commercial gym. It was the kind of massive weight that made me go weak in the knees just watching Sam mounting them. He bent over the bar and, gripping it in various locations, lifted it slightly several times as if carefully determining exactly where he wanted to place his hands. When he was satisfied, Sam moved his legs into a slightly wider stance and squatted over the barbell, gripping the bar with his palms facing forward. Slowly Samson started to straighten his knees. The huge barbell creaked and groaned eerily and as it slowly cleared it's moorings. As he continued to lift it, both ends drooped dramatically as gravity tried desperately to pull the piles of massive weights secured on the ends of the bar back down to Earth. Almost straight-armed, Sam stood up completely, raising the huge barbell to the height of his lower thighs.

I'm not sure why - maybe it was how holding such massive weight physically affects a heavily-muscled man's body - but seeing Samson just standing there, side-profile to me, made me feel a deep desire to cum. My sudden urge to just touch myself was compelling. Sam was standing at nearly a 90 degree angle to me, absolutely straight and tall, with his shoulders thrown back slightly to naturally counter the great weight. His side-profile was wholly magnificent and fantastically hot. Sam's neck looked very big to me now, at least equally as wide as his head, and maybe more. Thick columns of muscle swelled out prominently on either side with a large vein tracing the edges of each. It was also now obvious to me that the tops of the muscles in his upper back anatomically originated at the very base of his skull, and well up and behind his neck. I don't think I'd ever consciously realized that before, probably because it isn't obvious on a normal man's body. Seeing Sam was like getting an instant anatomy lesson. Sam's upper back muscles were so large in fact that they flared out like the wings of the Concorde behind his neck; each wingtip being capped by a basketball-sized globe of muscle that formed his outer shoulder. But the single, most dominating feature from this particular angle anyway was definitively - Sam's chest. In fact, it was THE feature at the moment, for me. Mighty pectorals, looking every bit as thick as battleship armor, thrust out so remarkably that they formed almost total hemispheres of muscle. Seen from the side, these projections of such great mass high on his body, combined with the bold contour around his entire thickly-muscled upper back, reminded me of a satellite photo of the South American continent. Sam's waistline seemed to almost disappear underneath it all. If I thought my mouth had been dry before, it felt now more like the Sahara Desert at noon.

"Now this HERE is gonna be some liftin', Pete!" Sam said emphatically to make sure I understood that he hadn't really been lifting yet- at least by his own definition anyway. "Hey, Pete - you just watch my bi's while I curl this 'ol thing. I'm gon'na get me some BIG muscles now. It's party time, Pete! I'm real sorry I don't have no hats or noise-makers, but... I'm really hopin' 'ya like big presents...."

With that, Sam slowly pivoted with the huge barbell slowly so that he was facing me more directly. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back slightly, and then just stood silently for the longest time, still gripping the monstrous sagging barbell in his hands.

As more time passed, I thought to myself, "Gee, this sure is different." I even cleared my throat a couple of times while I patiently waited for something to happen- but nothing did, with the exception that Sam's face seemed to be changing somehow. His countenance looked calmer and more relaxed- almost serene actually.

With his eyes still closed, Sam quietly spoke just a few more words. "This is for you, Pete..."

Then more time passed in total silence. Sam's eyes remained closed throughout. I even wondered briefly if he could possibly have fallen asleep. Whatever was going on here, I was completely clueless. So I just sat there waiting. After all, Sam knew what he was doing even if I did not, I figured. I'd have sat there for a week, in fact, waiting for Sam's lifting.

When Sam finally did open his eyes again, he did so very slowly. He was looking more-or-less still right at me, but he just looked different to me now. His eyes seemed different too, but I was hard-pressed to say exactly how. His stare seemed to pass through me, as if I wasn't there at all - or he just wasn't really seeing me. His face had also become completely expressionless; his previously 'calm and serene' look has been replaced with something that appeared to be just empty and vacant. Sam's breaths were slow and rather deep.

I was just about to say something when I saw the large muscles in his big arms visibly tense as Samson made a deep 'Oooof'ing sound. The huge barbell moved slowly upwards. I knew he was doing yet another set of standing 'biceps curls' as he'd referred to this particular lift anyway - but now he was using this weight, unimaginable-times heavier weight than he had previously. Amazingly, Sam nevertheless pulled the massive bar up very steadily until it just brushed his protruding pectoral mounds - then held it there momentarily before slowly lowering it back down to near his thighs. Then came another 'Oooof' and another cycle started again. By the third or fourth time, vascularity was becoming apparent everywhere in his torso, and to a lesser extent even his legs. I could clearly see veins even in the areas covered by his singlet. His breathing was deep and very steady. In fact everything about each repetition, so far anyway, was an exactly perfect clone of the previous one as far as I could tell. His fifth repetition with this massive weight looked to me exactly like his first in every way. Outside of the obvious veins and muscles that were visibly exploding all over Sam's body, there was no other indication to me that he was really straining - certainly not by his facial expression anyway.

I was being instantly re-educated about just how unbelievably powerful Sam really was. I mean- the steel bar itself was just massively thick, and yet it still drooped so violently under the weight that I thought it could possibly snap. This was a serious - absolutely stunning actually - amount of weight. I didn't know the number of men in the world that could even do what Sam was doing. At most, there were not many - maybe a handful - maybe even less, I thought. It was just devastating to watch, actually. I was completely humbled and in totally awed, and if there's such a thing as a gas puddle that goes along with my ignition switch, Samson was now pegging that totally to the floor. The world could have ended and I wouldn't have noticed. This was one genuine, boner-fied HE MAN! Now THIS was SERIOUS STRENGTH!!

I remained hypnotically transfixed as Sam performed even more astounding repetitions. The deep, unmistakable sounds of the 'big iron' rattling and clanging as the plates shifted slightly quantified in my mind not only the massiveness and density of iron, but also the brute strength that commanded them upward against gravitational forces - and was doing so over and over again. Sam's form was perfect and remained absolutely unwavering. His facial expression also remained exactly as it had been when he'd first begun - in short, he didn't really have one. This may have been just an unimaginably intense focusing and concentration on Sam's part. "Yeh, that's got to be it... maybe," I thought. But even though Sam's face wasn't changing, absolutely unbelievable things were happening to his body.

Defying the possible, his already huge neck, shoulders and chest muscles were clearly becoming even more pronounced.

I saw the impossible nevertheless happening to those very big arms of his with my own eyes. With every repetition, they visibly grew bigger. The mere sight of them was absolutely paralyzing me. Sam's biceps were approaching such stunningly dimensions in proportion to his other muscles that they were the true champions totally ruling the moment; two perfect, spellbinding planets.

And Sam just continued to lift. 'Oooof'. More repetitions followed, each cycle being performed with such perfect rhythm that you could have calibrated a metronome to it. I don't know if it's possible for a muscle to literally explode, but both of Samson's biceps were just phenomenally engorged monsters - which might have been Sam's own description of my cock at that moment, too, if he could have seen it. He didn't look like he was seeing anything, however. The skin over his biceps was now stretched so thin that it had a visibly bluish transparency to it. I also noticed that very small bright red-colored capillaries were beginning to appear as well, and I knew enough about medical biology to understand that these were called micro-hemorrhages - and that their sudden appearance implied the capillaries were beginning to rupture from the internal pressure.

Sam's astounding physical capabilities seemed to be surpassing some threshold of what might be humanly possible, even for the huge and muscular man that he was. His strength seemed almost - well - Samsonian. Certainly it was way beyond what I thought he might possess even considering his size. THIS power was truly fearsome.

I'd lost count of the number of repetitions, yet his lifts and his form both were still mechanically perfect. The man was a muscle-machine, and one with the horsepower of a six-story Earthmover. Sam was still neither showing any discernible signs of fatigue nor any indication that he was ever going to stop for that matter. Every centimeter of his bodying visually screamed out to me the near-tortuous force that was being applied both to and through it, yet Sam's face remained essentially expressionless, belying any indication of that whatsoever.

I mean - I already knew that Sam was a real rare mountain-of-a-man, so it didn't surprise me particularly that I hadn't ever seen anything like what Sam could apparently physically do before, but an unsettling feeling nevertheless started coming over me as I wondered now if anyone else had ever seen such a thing before either. My eyes were telling me conflicting things that I couldn't quite make sense of. I could no longer reconcile everything that I was seeing anymore - and I was feeling a bit like Alice, after she's fallen through the looking glass.

But just as these vague concerns were starting to get my increasing attention, Sam suddenly just stopped - stopped cold - with the bar lowered in the starting thigh-position. He stood there, silent and motionless, still holding on to the massive barbell - his face still expressionless - still that vacant stare. Then I saw him snap his head from side-to-side, just once.

"Sam?" I said, hoping to get some response from him, but none was forthcoming. I waited in the silence for something to eventually happen, and finally it did. Sam blinked. And then I saw him blink again. Then again. He slowly tilted his head upward and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, holding them there for awhile. Then Sam returned his gaze on to me, but he seemed disoriented as if he was trying to get his bearings. Finally he tilted his head down and appeared to be looking over the massive, sagging barbell he still held with his powerful forearms - now thick with tentacles - in a vice-like grip. Suddenly, Sam just released his grip, sending the massive weight crashing thunderously to the floor and scaring me half out of my wits. I felt the reverberations as the massive iron recoiled and bounced rather ominously a few times. Then silence.

"Sam?" I thought he might have nodded his head slightly to acknowledge me, but I wasn't sure. He still said nothing. His facial expression still looked peculiarly blank. He seemed as if he was way off somewhere else. He slowly raised his extended arms in front of him slightly and looked at them both, almost as if he really wasn't quite sure what he was seeing. Given their current dimensions, it wasn't hard for me to understand why he might not recognize them immediately as necessarily human arms either. Sam slowly cocked his head to the right slightly and looked at his left arm for awhile. He rotated his arm slowly, looking at the all sides of his upper arm. Then he very slowly cocked his head in the other direction, repeating the same basic inspection of his other arm. He paused suddenly and then snapped his head rather hard again.

"Sam?" I repeated. The way he was acting was starting to weird me out. He casually glanced up at me momentarily, but then returned his gaze back to his arms, still not speaking. Well at least I knew that Sam had heard me. He'd clearly responded to his name. I'm not sure he knew it was necessarily me. The look in his eyes was still funny, but at least his face had a little more expression now. Sam was moving his brow and jaw and mouth a little, and I noticed other slightly more natural movements occasionally throughout the rest of his body, too.

He appeared to still be very extraordinarily interested in those arms of his though, exploring every inch of them again with his eyes. He held them up in front of him and locked them out, fully-extended. The sight of them being so dramatically 'presented' made me immediately woozy again. In this position, his biceps looked to me like they were something actually set on top of his arms, as opposed to being a part of them. Two fire extinguishers of rock-hard muscle reached from his shoulders down to his elbows. Sam started to very slowly bend his forearms until his upper and lower arms formed roughly a 90 degree angle, partially flexing these two stunning giants in his arms. Even only half-flexed, his biceps were just absolute Titans, and still mushroomed up into beautiful quasi-domes. Sam was clearly checking out their fantastic size and shape, but the manner in which he looked at them was oddly casual, to the point of seeming detached. Again I noticed Sam pause, and then shake his head from side-to-side. Then he went right back to looking at his arms.

It seemed to me to be more like he was simply 'inspecting' them, as opposed to feeling any admiration or pride in their utter magnificence. In fact, Sam wasn't demonstrating any reactions at all to seeing his own erotic monsters. It appeared that he wasn't even having a conscious thought about anything. He'd just look slowly over at one arm and then the other, slowly flexing them repeatedly in front of himself. All the while this was going on, some more discernible "body language" and overall movement was returning to him again.

"Some pump," I thought I heard him mutter under his breath, but to me this was meaningless babble. Don't get me wrong- I was absolutely enthralled watching Sam more actively examine his muscles - something about this was oddly very hot to me- but increasingly, what I really wanted to see more was some evidence of a little more significant brain activity. So I thought I'd try one more time to make 1st contact this very big alien being.

"Sam? Take me to your leader, Sam...."

Sam paused and shook his head hard from side-to-side several times again. And a few moments later, I did heard an "ahah" come out of him, even as he was still back to inspecting his two Goliath's. He did seem to be moving more and generally becoming a bit more lively-acting again.

"That's some pump.... "

Well, I heard words clearly enough this time. "SAM," I said loudly, resolutely determined to get some real acknowledgement out of him other than a mere grunt, even though a grunt from this He man was pretty hot stuff in itself.

"Hey there, big guy. Are you in there somewhere? Anybody home? Come out, come out, wherever you are!" There was still no particular reaction from him at all. "I don't think you even know who I am, Sam!"

The big lug just said, "Sure I do..." still looking dispassionately at his big battleships.

I had a strong urge to get right up off of that chair and punch him actually - I was suddenly feeling just that mad. I guess I just really needed some recognition from him but I wasn't getting much at all - and I was getting pissed now. But very luckily for Sam, he saved himself from a ferocious attack from this Lilliputian Army recruit. Given the mass of muscle that stood there in front of me, it would have been about as attention-getting as a volley of arrows released against a tank, anyway.

Sam- and no doubt sensing his extreme mortal danger I'm sure - raised his head and looked directly at me.

"Sure I do. Your Pete."

He still seemed overly subdued to me - well, for Sam, that is. There was a kind of calmness in his voice that didn't quite sound to me like himself, and I thought a bit of a far-away look still lingered in his eyes. He seemed just somehow mellower than usual, but at least I could tell that Sam was definitely acknowledging my presence.

Sam shook his head back-and-forth again, this time making a big 'raspberry sound' with his lips. Then he opened his eyes wide a few times, just like I do myself when I'm trying to be alert. Then Sam loosened up his hulking body by stretching a little- alternately bending his legs a few times, rolling his head slowly in a big circle, and finally shaking his arms out rather forcefully.

"And YOU, Pete - are the birthday boy," he said, suddenly looking directly at me with an almost imbecilic partial smile. His eyes seemed clearer and more focused. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief as Sam increasingly acted more like his good 'ol self.

"So - Did I light your birthday candle, Pete?"

"Like a bonfire!" I replied, breaking into a broad grin. " You are just awesome!"

A big wide smile spread across his Sam's face, too. His whole face opened up in and expression of genuine happiness. Then he tucked his chin towards his chest rather seductively and, keeping his eyes riveted right on me, began walking towards me. He took one very deliberate step at a time, closing the distance between us ever-so-dramatically slowly.

"I'm real strong, Pete. I got me some real big muscles now, I reckon...."

That was true enough, I thought, but Sam's tendency for understatement had also never been more extreme than it was at that very moment. As this gargantuan God slowly moved towards me, my heart started to race.

"Say Pete, I bet you're big as me now too, huh?" Samson said, taking another step closer. He glanced down at my crotch momentarily, and judging by how wide his eyes got momentarily, apparently answered his own question. I was grateful for that too, because certainly no words were going to be coming out of my mouth anytime in the forseeable future. Lockjaw had set in permanently.

"'Ya sure are," he continued. That thing's a MONSTER! 'Ya make me so hot."

Sam took another very deliberate step.

What he'd said was true enough on both counts, too. After being wildly aroused for what felt like forever to me, the broad back of my fully-realized python was straining so hard to rise up through the top of my baggy pant leg that it was clearly suspended in air clean off my knee now. This was the kind of hard-on that usually embarrassed the hell out of me, but my engine Rpm's were red-lined. Sam also had bulging 'big meat' now of his own that was already prominently pushing at the bottom of his leather belt.

Sam took another step closer. I had to tilt my head upward slightly in order to see his face. Massy pectoral mountains, like twin bows of mighty ice breakers, projected proudly out in from of him. It seemed to me that they would actually reach me steps ahead of the rest of his body.

"Pete, you can lose those jeans anytime now. I'd like to just look at your huge meat. Show me that I'm big enough for you..."

Without moving my eyes off of Sam, I unzipped and, bridging off the chair seat on my neck, quickly pulled my jeans down below my butt and freed my hopelessly confined prisoner. The whole expression on Sam's face changed into one of wonder as he watched spellbound my cock's steady rise to it's full glory. Proudly, it lifted dramatically skyward - high and mighty at last. I was allowing myself to be the real poster boy for the "Be All That You Can Be" slogan, in terms of erections. It felt so very heavy to me, slowly weaving and bobbing there high between my thighs, looking like one-half of the St. Louis Arch, that I thought it might just snap off of me at any moment. But I just sat there patiently and let myself be huge for Sam anyway. I was surely all that he wanted me to be, and probably considerably more.

I understood in my own way what he needed, and I would let him savor me unrushed for just as long as he wanted. I would allow him complete control over the duration. He made me feel good actually, like I was sexy and hot. I don't know what Sam was actually feeling inside, but I know that, for him, it was very powerful and good and likely even very necessary. His face told me unquestionably that it was an extraordinarily gratifying experience. Sam just stood there looming over me and slowly played with himself with one of his big paws. He worshipped my cock for a very, very long time, too. When he was finally satisfied for the moment, he glanced up at me and simply said, "I must'a died, 'cause I'm in Heaven now."

Then he took another step forward again and knelt down in front of me.

"That's really... well... the most magnificent thing I've ever seen in 'ma whole life. Thank you, Pete." He paused for a few seconds, and then spoke again. "Now I wanna do something special, just for you. I'm mighty big, too... See?"

Matter-of-factly, Sam reached up and grabbed the shoulder straps of his singlet. In unison, he pulled them out across the wide plains of shoulder and then around the outsides of the two boulders that marked their ends, and in one motion, peeled the singlet down to his leather belt, leaving the straps dangling by the outsides of his tree-sized thighs.

And for the moments that followed, for me anyway, seas parted and worlds collided. What I both saw, and what I felt inside, was so powerful that it is indelibly burned into my mind until my last breath on Earth.

Sam understood implicitly what I needed, too. He raised his utterly-pumped massive arms slowly from his sides, fully-extended, until they were just above the level of his massive eagle wings, and then he just held them there for awhile - these two inhumanly engorged, perfect huge cylinders of granite that lay atop each arm - for me to just look at them, absorbing their full erotic impact. He let me bask in my own wild erotic energies. To feel the nuances of desire and the craving and wanting and lust. He held them there just as long as I needed. And somehow he was so in tune with my soul - he was reading me so well - he just knew when it was time.

In almost slow motion, Sam brought his fists up towards his head, and created - just for me - one of the most erotically intense, spiritual moments of my life. His deeply-veined mighty and powerful Titans rose steadily upward, slowly transforming from huge horizontal cylinders into wrenching fully-flexed absolutely global Gods standing high in the heavens - two perfectly split biceps, each larger than a ten pin bowling ball, just kissed his thickly-roped forearms. My arousal was so profound - so total - that I reached for the very first time that mystical point where agony and ecstasy are both one - and I know that I ached deep inside. Ached like never in my life - and it was, at once, also wondrous beyond description. And I just sat there and looked - then looked more - looked at, what for me was, penultimate masculine Beauty. And I ate of him magnificence - I ingested him - I consumed him totally - in a Holy Communion.

If I had even so much as thought about touching my cock, I would have exploded on the spot. However, the power of this arousal - the intensity of this erotic energy - was so great that I was somewhere beyond being capable of independent thought. Like Sam before me, I too had found Heaven.

Then I heard a deep, masculine voice speaking from somewhere that sounded far off in the distant, actually.

"I want 'cha to feel 'em, Pete... feel 'em all over. They's REAL big. Go ahead now... It's O.K. ...."

I sat there absolutely motionless, well beyond the capacity to exercise any conscious control over my body.

Sam lowered one arm and moved forward, walking on his knees, and pushed my own aside as he positioned his body between them. Taking me gently by my wrist in his hand, he lifted my arm upward. Then placing my hand on the very summit of his flexed Titan, he released it as he resumed a full flex with his other arm, and returned his total attention to my swaying cobra.

Like a tree gently bowing in the breeze, I could feel my cockhead occasionally touching Sam's abdomen now, sometimes just brushing the hairs of the sensual love trail that ran up the centerline of his stomach, and at other times patting his deeply corrugated washboards.

My other hand seemed to automatically find it's way to the summit of Sam's other biceps, and I started to actually feel what, up to this point, I had only been seeing. My hands slowly orbited like moons all around the twin Jupiter's high up before me. Had I been more mature, I might have actually wept with joy actually - without any shame at all.

I heard his distant-sounding low voice again.

"Happy Birthday, Pete. Time to make a wish, and blow out your huge candle. It's O.K... Go ahead now..."

Well, my wish had already come true, a thousand times over in fact. The very second that Sam's words penetrated, my eyes slammed shut. My balls yanked so violently up into me that I bellowed and involuntarily pulled down, lifting myself right off of the chair slightly, using Sam's massive Titans for handholds. I blew my candle out alright - hard - like a wide-opened unmanned high-pressure fire hose. The first and second volleys passed far above his head and over one of Sam's shoulders. I heard Sam moaning with that kind approval that only a real man can have. The third caught him squarely in his face. Uncounted others randomly coated the shelves of his massive pec mountains, drizzling over them like frosting on a Bunt cake. And minutes later when I'd finally emptied my tanks to the very bottom, big gobs of cum randomly clung to the deep ridges and hairs all over his stomach.

Still dazed, I opened my eyes and began surveying the damage and realized that my hands were still firmly mounted on Sam's mighty Titans, and that Sam was, in fact, still moaning loudly. Glancing up, I saw Sam's eyes were closed and his head was tilted far back. Then I looked down at the crotch of his singlet, and immediately saw the large dark area of wetness in Sam's ample basket, and also noticed his love batter was just beginning to leak out past the elastic around his balls. As his hot moans continued, streams of cum started flowing, following the contours of the large muscles on the insides of his huge thighs. "Man, can this big bruiser really CUM!" I thought to myself. "What a total stud!!". Then completely to my surprise, my still rock-hard rocket fired off not just one, but two encore salutes, seconding that emotion.

Eventually Sam too opened his eyes, and like I had done myself, he looked around somewhat dazed for awhile just eyeing the carnage around us. After completing his survey, he returned his attention to me and broke into the biggest grin I've ever seen on a man in my life, silently mouthing the word, "W-O-W!!" to me.

"You're just somethin' else. You's just incredible, Pete! INCREDIBLE! Look at all this great protein! Boy, I think I needs me a shower. I means- another shower! So, what'd 'ya think? Am I big enough for you?"

"No way." I came back with, just being a wisecrack. "I was a little disappointed, actually."

Sam looked a bit maybe- confused- momentarily, then he just stood up to his full height suddenly. The look that came over Sam's face gave me a bone-cold chill. His expression went from to confused - to serious - to angry - to just something suddenly really ugly and very mean. It was more than scary. When someone the size of this monster looks mean, it's instantly damn terrifying - and Sam suddenly looked seriously very threatening and dangerous. This had all happened so fast that I was dumbfounded. My mind raced. No one knew where I was, and there was absolutely no one around to even hear me if I decided to holler my brains out.

I was about to tell him that I'd just been kidding with him - but before I could even get the words out of my mouth, Sam suddenly reached out and grabbed my head between his giant-sized hand - and I mean hard, too! Believe me when I say that he had my immediate 100% attention. This guy's hands had every inch of my entire skull covered totally in a vice grip. The picture of Sam pulverizing my skull like a squash with my brains literally all over his hands flashed instantly through my mind- and this brute had the more than enough strength to certainly do it very easily. My life was going to be over in the next few seconds. Completely stunned, I froze like an animal.

"Well, I guess I'm gon'na have to just..." he started to say, with a meanness in his voice that would strike fear into anyone- and I braced myself for what was coming next. "...just kiss 'ya anyway, Pete."

When I popped open my eyes, Sam was wearing an ear-to-ear shit-eating grin. Then tilting my head up with his hands to meet his face, Sam bent over and planted a kiss on me that belonged in the Guinness World of Records - and left me quivering like a bowl of jell-o.

Eventually, Sam slowly backed away and crouched down on his haunches. He cocked his head, then smirked, "And you's - a big liar, too, Pete," which he followed up with a knowing wink.

This time I grinned broadly in acknowledgement- just in case....

"So Pete- does 'ya think I's real strong? Does I qualify?"

Strong? I immediately thought about Samson and that monstrous barbell, and I wanted to ask him just how much it really weighed. I certainly knew just by it's size alone that it was an extraordinarily amount. The concussion when it crashed and bounced several times on the floor was deafening. I'd felt the terrific shock wave pass right through the whole building's structure, rattling the fillings in my teeth. The thing was just fearsomely massive! So did he qualify as a strongman? Beyond any doubt. But the truth was that I didn't even know how to describe THAT kind of physical strength in words. The dude is a monster certainly, but still... I thought momentarily about just asking him to explain 'a few things' to me. Granted, I didn't know jack-squat about weightlifting, but what I'd just witnessed Sam do had left me disconcertingly with only questions without any plausible answers that I could quickly come up with.

But as I pondered these things, my eyes were also basking in the vision of a Hercules in-the-flesh stripped to the waist still crouched down before me. Suddenly my questions just didn't seem all that important anymore. This man was hotter than the surface of the sun! Uncharacteristically, I impulsively revealed to Sam exactly what I was feeling inside of me at that moment by both my words and actions.

"You're the strongest man I've ever known," I simply said, and left it at that.

Moving off the chair, I closed the distance between us and - kissed him! For me to take the initiating role was something brand new. And in the process of me now very enthusiastically 'planting a big one' on Sam, I also pretty much wiped my cum clean off his upper body with my sweatshirt. God, what a huge set of projecting boat bumpers that man possessed!

Sam kept looking into my eyes long after that kiss finally ended, tilting his head occasionally from side-to-side and stroking my hair and head gently again with his big paws. Tingles were running all through me. The way that he touched me felt wonderful somehow, and the way that he looked at me felt even more special. Sam seemed to really enjoy me. That was coming through to me loud-and-clear. As for me, well - I knew I could never tire of looking at Samson, this brutally handsome man with absolutely the biggest qualifications I'd ever seen anywhere - or would ever see for that matter.

Then Sam straightened up and said, "Well, I don't know 'bout you, Pete, but I know's I'm mighty hungry. I ain't eaten in 'near 4 whole hours, I reckon. I'm near starvation! I need me some FUEL!! What do 'ya say I fixes us some grub?"

"That'd be great, Sam. I'm hungry- I could definitely stand something to eat, too," I said, rubbing my stomach. "Can I help you?"

Shaking his head rather emphatically, Sam replied, "No. Absolutely not. There's no way I could tolerate that. There's here's your birthday, Pete." Then he added, with a devilish grin, "Then after we's done eatin', maybe you'd be wantin' to open another present? I sure hopes so, 'cause I been savin' the best. Somethin' extra-special! I'm real strong, Pete. I've got big muscles..."

I nodded my head in total agreement, and then I decided to correct Sam on just one not-so-little point.

"But you're wrong about just one thing, Sam. You don't have big muscles... you've got the bigg-EST muscles!"

Sam turned his head away slightly, smiling almost bashfully. Moments later, I saw his whole face slowly break out in one very prominent agonizing big red blush.

"Ah... I think I needs to grab me just a quick shower first..." •