Touch of Gold

Finding him


By Musclebuff


I can find no other words: he was magnificent.

His priest-shaved skull enhanced the effect of his amazing and blazing dark purple eyes, strange to find in a Chinese face, though it seemed he was more Manchurian with his strong cleft-jawed chin. In fact he was American, as I discovered once I'd plucked up courage to speak to him.

He was about my height - six foot or six one - and there, though I was pretty buffed at the time, the resemblance ended. What I could see of his muscles under the low-cut black tank was breathtaking: incredibly small joints only emphasized the huge, swelling muscle bellies of his wide delts and nut-cracking bis and tris. His dark gold pecs and even darker big nips with their dollar-sized aureoles swelled out of the tank: he can't have been able to see his abs except in a mirror. The thick sweeping ,lats exploded out of his tanktop; his quads and calves filled the camouflage pants he was wearing and made his small waist seem smaller than his biceps.

Whether he was wearing a jock or not, the bulge of his equipment was considerable: my own swelled to an embarrassing extent as soon as I set eyes on him. Unfortunately this was the first thing he noticed about me as he put down his water bottle and moved to the lat machine. All the same, I flung prudence to the winds as I decided I had to do back and bis myself that afternoon. When he finished his first set I asked if I could work in with him. He looked again at my protuberance, cocked a quizzical eye-brow at me and said Sure, why not?

Not to seem a wimp, I ventured rather more than the weight I usually started with. I was surprised to feel his hands on my shoulders holding me down as the weight threatened to pull me up. As he touched me a shock of electricity ran through my whole body. When the time came for my next set, he deliberately set my next weight at twenty pounds less than I used before. Not a word was said and this time there was no question of my butt rising from the seat.

When we finished our four sets each he said he usually only warmed up on the lat pull-down and went on to pull ups on the bar. "You should do the same if you want wide lats. Want to try?" Sure I wanted to "try", but I knew I'd only make a wimpy few reps once he'd made his fifteen with a forty-five pound weight strapped round his waist. I had made about seven with difficulty when I felt my ankles gripped from below. Again a shock rippled through my whole body and I seemed to gain enough strength to do another (amazing) seven reps.

Gee thanks, I said as he went to the mirror and spread his lats: they were not only unbelievably thick but they seemed to pull his delts even wider than a mere human could possibly manage. See? he said. And moved on to the next exercise.

So the afternoon went on and, as it went on, so did the growing patch of precum darken the front of my lycra hotpants. He looked and said nothing but Bis now?

Once again, Sure, I said. And here the magic began.

He started with one-arm dumbbell curls on the preacher bench. My jaw dropped as I saw the already large muscle swell to gigantic proportion and separate itself with a great cleft between the two parts of the muscle. Large veins popped, patterning the peak of the bi like a fishing net.

My turn. No, do it like this, he says. Look! He turned my wrist outwards and forced the dumbbell several inches above my shoulder. Now flex it! Harder! Come on, concentrate! Harder! That's better. Now look, this is what I want you to do: watch mine, empty your mind of anything but Muscle! Big biceps! Concentrate so hard that you seem to bore into my muscle with your eyes. Ready?

I shut my eyes for a moment, trying to empty my head of all horny thoughts, opened them again and nodded. Up went the dumbbell, up went the muscle, cleaving in twain, up went the veins, snaking under the paper-thin flesh of gold. Then it happened. As I bored my gaze into it, a golden aura shimmered over the whole upper arm; it swelled and swelled, far beyond anything imaginable except in MuscleMorphs.

Keep concentrating, he hissed as he changes arms. The same thing again. Then he said Put both your hands round my arm and wish like crazy they were yours! This seemed ultra-flaky, but who was I to argue with this demi-god?

Shut your eyes and just concentrate on what it feels like and imagine it's yours!

As I obeyed, my whole body started to shake and this time I flooded my jock with cum. My hands seemed magnetized to his amazing, ever-swelling arm and, yes, I did imagine it was mine. He relaxed his arm and dropped the bell. My hands became de-magnetized and I opened my eyes. He grabbed my arm - You see? Bigger!

Shit man, they were! What the hell had he done? I could only stammer and mutter incoherently as my dick started to subside. He had already moved on to barbell curls.

This time, I want you to concentrate on exactly the same thoughts as you curl. Curl the bar 8 times, then shut your eyes, flex as hard as you can till they really hurt and imagine them growing like mine. Here, I won't help you curl, but I'll help with the concentration, OK?

Weakly, OK, I said as I received the bar from him. He stood in front of me so I couldn't see into the mirror and had to concentrate on the bar and the muscle itself.

I made the 8 reps, shut my eyes and forced the vision of his great arms into my mind. Once again he placed his hands on my bis as I flexed the arms into a merciless and painful squeeze. When I could hold it no longer - it seemed like minutes - I lowered it. Slowly with the negative! came the command, and he took the bar off me. Now I looked into the mirror: I almost fainted as I saw the usual sixteen inches look more like twenty, and, yes, they were glowing like his.

That's enough for this time. Shower?

Shower? Sure! Maybe he'd let me get a view of those abs and quads that had so far been so tantalizingly invisible. I could hardly believe it as he stripped off on the other side of the locker-room, then turned to me, revealing for a mere instant his whole godlike beauty. His dick hung almost to his knees, and his abs.... His abs! O my god! They were so thick and striated, framed by the huge clefts between them and his serratus and the obliques which plunged down to embrace his genitals. My soaked lycras were half off when this happened and I couldn't prevent my dick springing to instant attention as he looked at it for a second before striding into the shower-room.

Happily it was empty. The row of six shower heads dripped suggestively as he turned one on. Water poured over that impossible body, smashing on to those pumpkin delts, cascading from the pecs over the abs, dripping off his cock before it ran down the huge quads and calves. He was facing me as I froze in the doorway with a goofy grin

Come on in! The water's fine!. And he turned on the shower beside his - so how could I avoid what was to come? He was soaping himself - all over. I watched him shamelessly. Do my back? And I'll do yours. He threw me the soap and, as he turned away, there was a flash of relief in my mind but this was instantly dismissed as he spread his lats again and flexed that great, hard bubble-butt.

I ran my soapy hands loveingly down the neck, over the thick traps which helped to shape the top of that gorgeous back. As I gripped the thick swollen lats and ran my had down them, my knees began to shake.

Go on down, he said, and I knelt to embrace his glutes and each of his thighs in turn.

Shit, man, I said - I don't think I can do any more of this without cumming for the fourth time today. I was on my knees as I said this and he whanged his great, now hard dick, in my face as he turned. Instantly I devoured it, sucking its beautiful satin steeliness as far down my throat as I could manage.

But this was not his intention; he pulled me to my feet. There's a time and place for everything and it's not here and now. We need to complete our business at my place. Get dressed.

He threw me a towel and, only half dry, I pulled on my sweats as fast as I could. He strode out of the gym before me and pulled me onto his truck.

I'll bring you back if you want, but we need to maintain contact until this is all over. Get in.

He lived in a pretty big loft: we stepped out of the freight elevator into what seemed like a monastic temple. Everything, clean, string, everything simple. It was the most personal statement I had ever seen in another guy's apartment.

He left me standing and strode to a table where he filled two goblets from a jade carafe. Drink this - it'll calm you down a bit. We've got a long way to go and you'll need all your energies.

I'd certainly spent the hell of a lot of them this afternoon so I gulped down the offering: it was both sweet and tart and gave me an instant lift and feeling of peace with all this. Yeah, I was still horny as hell, but the horniness somehow just seemed part of the right picture.

Strip off and then come in here.

He disappeared into an area that was somehow partitioned off from the rest of the loft. I walked into it feeling as if I was entering into something momentous. To room was completely dark, peaceful. There were four huge mirrors, one in each of the four walls, and his huge naked self was lighting candles and joss sticks in front of each one.

When he had finished this ritual he turned to me and said, Welcome to my Temple! It is a place of peace and love and is empowered by the Sun.

I was overwhelmed. What have I done to deserve this honor? You know nothing about me and yet you've made miracles for me all afternoon. You've touched and reached into my innermost desires without knowing if I deserve you at all. How come?

You'll think I'm flaky, but I can pretty well read your mind. I could tell you desired me more than anyone you have ever desired - what's more, I could tell that you were a disciple that worshiped at the Temple of Muscle. OK, so I'm a kind of priest of that temple - I appreciated your desires and I liked you. So let's say no more and get down to it.

Get down to what?

I thought you would want to be initiated into this order and receive all its benefits. Maybe even receiving me, if that's what you want. I think it is.

I was silent and puzzled. He sighed and went on patiently: For centuries my family was born and bred to protect the Emperors of China. Our beliefs and methods were handed down from generation to generation and even when the Emperors were no more we persisted with our heritage. The new masters of the land hated and feared us and we were driven out, many of us were slaughtered - a few escaped to cross the waters to this country where we have lived in secret for many years. As I shall never marry a woman, I shall be the final scion of our line. So it's even more important that I find others - someone else to receive these gifts. And that seems to be you. Satisfied?

Come here.

Almost hypnotized by the glow from his purple eyes I stumbled across the polished floor into his arms. He enfolded me within those huge muscles, looked deep into my eyes, then pressed his full and sensual lips on mine. First he just rubbed them gently together, then the tip of his tongue ran over our four joined lips before pushing its way into my welcoming mouth. I wrapped my arms as far as I could round that giant back and my tongue went crazy. Our tongues curled round each other and endlessly fucked each other's mouths.

After minutes of this, my knees finally gave way and I almost passed out as I slid down his muscles - he swept me up in his arms and carried me out of the "temple".

Hey, this has been too much for you - you need some rest before we go on. No problem - this'll all wait.

He laid me down gently on his bed, disentangled our arms, and covered me with a soft quilt.

Sleep now. Sleep........ sleep......... sleep.............. •

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