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Big is Better
|Sam swung an enormous thigh over me, straddling my hips to sit up on his knees facing me. He was still wearing his gym shorts, too - that same pair he'd blown out the side seams by doing squats with his truck. I'd hadn't even noticed.
Sam just grinned at me a little, then reached around behind his ass with both hands. I heard the distinct sound of material ripping as he tore the seat of his shorts apart with his fingers.
"Well, they was ruined anyway," he offered sheepishly. Then a moment later he magically produced something in one hand from behind him which I couldn't distinguish - it being as inky as the darkness itself - before immediately dropping it unceremoniously beside the bed. But whatever it was, it hit the floor with a resounding, heavy thud.
"Savin' the best parking space," was Sam's only cryptic comment as he reached for my dong with one hand, rose up and eased his body down, gently guiding my dickhead right between his big handsome pearly gates. I was wildly excited by this suggestive act, but past experience had also taught me to never count my chickens before they were hatched. He paused and just looked down at me a few moments, still holding my huge dickhead firmly between his cheeks. Then he suddenly eased down about 3 inches more. I was startled when my cockhead slipped right through the gates of paradise like St. Peter himself, popping suddenly right against his sphincter.
Sam stopped right there and then hesitated, rolling his eyes up at the ceiling. His pec-mountains heaved as he took a few fast breaths.
"Lordy, is that big...."
"Believe me, Sam - I know it's awful big. And you don't have to...."
"Lordy, lordy, lordy, it's so BIG..." he interrupted, still gazing up at the ceiling.
"That's O.K, Sam. You really don't have to. I'm used to that - and I sure don't want to hurt you. You're the last guy on Earth I'd ever want to hurt. Hey, nobody hardly ever even gets that far! But thanks for just tryin' to... err.... But you can play with it though, if you want. That's what most guys do - diddle around with it. Really, I mean that. It'll be just fine with me. Honest!"
I never realized that we were on two entirely different wavelengths at that moment.
"Oh, am I ever gonna play with it, boy..." Sam replied with a strange growl through a mile-wide grin.
"That'll feel real good, Sam - just playing around with it. Guys usually use something to make it slip better - less friction. Do you have anything?"
"Well, aah... No, actually. Workin' my pecs like ya did... that sets some things in motion, like one of them there chain ree-actions. Don't really need nothin'. You could say that I'm kinda self-bastin' in my present condition."
He chortled a few times but I missed both the humor and the point. Sam sure didn't seem in a hurry to move off of me though. Then it occurred to me that he might still be considering going to heroic lengths to keep a promise that he probably wished he hadn't made now. He was already my hero.
So I repeated myself. "It isn't worth it to me. It's not even necessary, really. You don't need to do this...."
Motionless, he remained in that same position with my giant dickhead firmly parked inside the main entrance of his cave.
"You's wrong on all counts, Pete. Oh, I'm MORE than worth the price of admission, boy. And it's soooo necessary. I absolutely gotta do it...."
"Just play with it, Sam...."
With an impish smirk, he tucked his chin again, locking his eyes on me. He grabbed his magnificent beach balls and, spreading them apart, stunned me when he began sitting down even more. In one slow continuous downward thrust, he took every last inch of my freaky dong, consuming the whole damn thing right up to the Big Twins.
I could only stare up at him speechlessly, utterly dumbstruck. Sam's face registered no sign of pain, nor even discomfort. Even after going through a can of Crisco, no man before had ever managed to take my ass-splitter even part-way inside him, let alone swallow me like a giant black hole effortlessly gobbling up entire star systems.
As if that wasn't shocking enough, then Sam proceeded to his grind his butt around and settled in even more comfortably, nuzzling his ass cheeks very firmly into my thighs, as if sitting on a nest to incubate my eggs like a big mother ostrich.
I was still so shocked that I could not move. I'm not sure that I even wanted to, although that was a moot point with Sam sitting on me. He still wasn't subjecting me to his full weight, thankfully. I suspect both of my thigh bones would have snapped below my hips if he had. I was still reeling from both the fact as well as the strange sensation of being all the way inside him. He'd taken all of me like a cocktail weenie. My God, this muscle-god must have routinely practiced with fire hydrants!
Sam paused momentarily, looking as though he was savoring a juicy steak. Then almost purring, he said, "It's perfect. I never felt a piece of real manmeat near this huge! It's amazin'... AMAZIN'! Ya fills me up real nice! It's great to be hung huge, ain't it, boy?"
Well, at that moment I could not disagree. Wildly new sensations emanating from my cock were like nothing I'd ever felt before. It was beyond incredible. As Sam had said, it WAS just incredibly perfect - but maybe a bit too perfect. You see, I was going to cum immediately - uncontrollably. I'd just put the bullet up the barrel, and here I was, trigger-happy already. I sure wanted to stay at this party for at least a little bit longer, so I tried hard to take my focus off the sensations in my cock by counting the square tiles in his bedroom ceiling.
"You ready to do a little ridin' now, boy?" Sam didn't wait for a reply however, and proceeded to answer the question for me. "Sure ya is...."
Sam began to sit up on his knees, withdrawing my airship ever-so- slowly from his hanger until only the huge head of my cock still remained inside. He paused for a long moment. I expected him to then pull me out completely; the duty done; promises made now having been honored. But instead, he shot me a devilish look and just sat slowly back down on it again, taking it all in one stroke right up to my pulsing manfruits. And then he did it all over again - and then yet again - taking every inch of my entire length, from top to bottom; big head to bigger nuts. I was astonished that Sam would consider enduring this assault for even a few more times. On those rarest of occasions in my past when I actually penetrated a guy - and they'd all absolutely insisted on that, too - it was more than any of them had bargained for. The looks on their faces told me it was obviously a hellish ordeal for them. All efforts were rapidly aborted. I wondered if Sam might be acting the part of a martyr of sorts for that cause or perhaps, though I thought it far less likely, showing me he was a `tough guy' and could `take it like a man.' That didn't fit his seemingly easy-going, affable nature though, and Sam hadn't struck me as a guy who needed to prove anything to anyone.
"Oh wow... Oh wow... That's huge..." he said, still holding his cheeks apart as he rode me up and down on his knees. His tone of voice sounded more astonished than distressed. In fact, he sounded almost... pleased.
"Is that feelin' good? Oh, this here is fuckin' by the way... just so's you knows that, Pete. I was made for big pokers. So, does ya like fuckin'?"
"Oh... Yes.... Yes.... Ooooh, wow..." was all I could muster in the way of a response, as my eyeballs rolled spastically in their sockets, lost in an inferno of lust, no longer able to even focus on the ceiling tiles.
Being deep inside Sam's ass... well... I had nothing else to compare it with. This sure didn't feel at all like those few constricting, uncomfortable cockpits that I'd managed to get myself inside before, however briefly. That had been like trying to ram my cock into a thimble. Sam's quiver held my arrow snugly, yet its lining was erotically soft, like firm, warm jell-o. Even fucking pumpkins in the field when I was a kid never felt THIS good. Up to this point in my life, that had been my gold standard for pleasure. But I couldn't fathom how easily my cock was sliding in and out of his chute. It was exactly as he'd said, but I knew he hadn't used any lubricant. Still, it sure seemed like his insides were Teflon-coated. This amazingly slippery custom-made fit brought waves of unformed, new desires in my mind. I'd find found the absolutely perfect orifice.
I thought to myself in wonder, "So THIS is sex. This is what real sex actually feels like...."
The sensation of fucking - or was I being fucked? - I wasn't sure since Sam was doing all the work. Whatever, I could have died right then and there thinking that I'd honestly had the best life had to offer.
Sam's ass was making the round trip from my dickhead to my balls and back with increasingly lustful speed. He seemed to be just as carried away as I was, tossing his head back and forth, savoring it completely.
"Oh, wow... I feel it still gettin' bigger... Praise the Lord - even bigger! Yowza!! Oh, yeah.... Oh wow. What a fuckin' huge real MAN'S schlong! Ooooh... yeah, fuck me.... Fuck my big manhole here.... Ooooh.... Wooowwwww....
Sam began almost bouncing on it feverishly, pounding me forcefully with his big, beautiful hard glutes. Nevertheless, he astutely controlled how much of his weight I bore at any moment. And when our bodies came together, we literally sparked. It occurred to me that Sam fucked exactly like he lifted weights; like a well-oiled precision machine: unwaveringly steady, relentless.
"Peel... peel my banana... Pete," Sam said in a breathy voice. When I failed to respond after some moments passed, he must have realized that I hadn't understood him, and made his wishes crystal clear.
"Take out my cock... just rip off my shorts.... Ooooooh. Fuck me... yeah. Ooooohhhh...."
Sam's `shorts' were only a fabric remnant, more like a shredded two- piece loin cloth. I reached for the thin cotton waistband with both hands, hitting a piece of boilerplate as the back of my knuckles contacted his abdomen. I gave the elastic a hard tug, snapping it easily around his hard waist. I tugged the rag out from under his balls and tossed it into the darkness.
Sam's beautifully-beefy hard-on flopped free and weightily like a conductor's baton keeping rhythm to his pounding ass beat. This man- beast was genetically blessed in every respect; not only did he possess the frame of a skyscraper to support such a supreme muscle mass, but he also had the most perfectly-proportioned piece of manmeat imaginable to go with it.
Between the startling, long-despaired-of gratification of him fucking, even mastering my huge dong which filled me with a sense of expansive power, and the smart smacking of his fat heavy cock against my abdomen as he rode me, and the sight of the Herculean man-beast himself towering over me, my senses overloaded and burst into each other with tangled fury. Scent became sound and sight became trembling finger-brushes - and all-encompassing touch blended with salty tastes in overpowering flickers of ecstatic euphoria.
His physique drew my eyes to it like the strongest electro-magnet, yet I couldn't look up at him without wanting to cum on the spot. Each chiseled muscle flexing in Sam's gigantic quads as he power squatted on my fully-erect rocket ship almost undid me as much as the caressing sensation itself.
Something about gazing up at his rigged columnular abs and past the heaving slopes of his pecs which occasionally obscured his godlike face tugged orgasm closer to the end of my cock. Seeing an upside- down pyramid of immovable blocks of muscle stacked one upon another defying gravity, corroded every fiber of self-control remaining in my will.
Tormentingly, Sam began masterfully flexing his abdominals. In an astonishing display of supreme muscularity as well as control, his entire abdominal region swirled like a mesmerizing muscular kaleidoscope, an ever-changing visceral panorama as he willfully showcased each group of muscles independently. At one moment, he emphasized only the large centerline muscles, making them congeal into two vertical thick ropes. Then he sucked his entire abdomen impossibly inward, making his waist almost disappear entirely below his massive upper torso. Next he flattened and flexed the entire region, making his external obliques prominently leap out like a riverbed of large pebbles. Sam's belly dancing seduced my astonished eyes toward his utterly manly glory trail spreading up from his groin along the centerline of his deeply cut abdominal blocks. His perfectly patterned body hair provided the delicious masculine frosting on the perfect muscular cake.
Sam dramatically pulled in his abdomen again and it vanished beneath his King Kong-sized chest, nothing more than a cave ringed in carved rock. The dim light highlighted his great pectoral gods; and that colossal overhang was the heart-stopping final straw. His mighty twin juggernauts appeared impossibly thick from below.
His heavy chest armor bouncing, its tremendous mass heaving up and down as Sam rode my war-horse into battle; the hot, engulfing suck and shove that accommodated and even taunted my man-starved meat; all of these sights, sounds and feelings collided together, pushing me uncontrollably over the edge of the erotic abyss.
"Sam... You've gotta stop.... Hold still, or... or I'm gonna cum. Ooooh, jeez. I gotta cum.... Oooooooh," I moaned out breathlessly.
Sam leaned over me and, resting his hands lightly on my shoulders, gazed into my eyes, smiling. But rather than stopping however, he just began to squeeze, draw and expel my cock all-the-more deliberately.
He said almost teasingly, "Already, Pete? I'm just gettin' all warmed up, and you's gonna cum already? Well, ya ain't gonna cum. Puttin' your pig in my poke here got you too hot, huh? That means ya must really like fuckin' - a lot! Does ya like fuckin' my hot manhole, boy?"
Far from helping matters, hearing his `fuck' words just accelerated my fall into his orgasmic abyss.
"I don't want to cum - I've GOT to cum.... I love your ass... I can't wait... Ooooh jeez, that feels so good."
Sam grinned like he was toying with me while he continued plunging my big baloney between his cheeks.
"Don't you fret. You ain't gonna cum. But a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do, I reckon. If you gotta pop, go right ahead. Shoot your balls off right in my cave. Yeah, fuck me with that big bull cock of yours...."
His eyes flashed, as boyishly playful as they were sexy.
"I'm just gonna stretch a bit, while you's havin' your orgasm..." he said, almost feigning indifference except for the accompanying wickedly devilish little grin.
Sam took his hands off my shoulders and proceeded to bury every last millimeter of my big sword deep into his hot, ample sheathe. He clasped his hands behind his neck, twisted his torso about 45 degrees and then slowly raised the back of his arms up beside his head until his elbows pointed directly at the ceiling. And what he did next is indelibly etched into my visual cortex for the rest of my life.
He pulled his waist inward again and, tucking his chin slightly, arched his back. Every muscle in his body simultaneously tensed all at once. Something about seeing his physique in that specific posture was metaphysical; beyond magical. It captured and dramatically showcased the awesome degree of his muscular development like nothing else ever could. It virtually screamed Brute Power and Animalistic Magnetism.
And like thick rungs on a ladder, his anterior serratus muscles led my eyes from his central abdomen to his lats which exploded into magnificent muscular wings forming the heavy gilded frame around a perfect masterpiece of man. His biceps formed breathtaking boulders of hard muscle so huge that they literally caressed his ears. Each head of his triceps loomed like the Hydra. From his tiny waist to the tips of his elbows, the effect was one of a flawlessly-shaped, spectacularly-wide "V" of supreme muscle, male erotic beauty amplified to the extreme. To me it was like gazing upon Hercules Reborn - a God of masculine potency, virility, and physical perfection made in flesh.
I was totally overcome; or perhaps better said, could have cum over and over again. And this Muscle-God looked down upon me as if saying, "Do ya think I'm sexy?" with my schlong buried so deep in his asshole I might never get it out.
My dick replied for me instead. My welling eyes were the ultimate trigger.
"I'm gonna.... Oooooh.... cum..." I moaned out, almost hyperventilating.
My manfruits seized and pulled up hard inside of me. My shotgun was loaded and cocked. Overloaded with powder, in fact. I feared my opening salvo would blow a hole through the top of Sam's skull, but I was powerless to stop pulling the trigger.
"Ooooh... OOOOOOHHHHHH!!!" I went off like a battery of howitzer's opening fire all at once.
Sam had other plans however. An ace in his hole you might say. Some more tricks up his hot man-sleeve.
"You ain't gonna cum."
I felt my cock suddenly seized in a uniform vice-like muscular grip along it's entire length; then my shaft was squeezed even more tightly from all directions at once, like prey caught in an anaconda's constricting coils. Sam simply stopped my first shot dead in its tracks. I had no possible way to conceive of the pressure suddenly surrounding my entire cock. My breath hitched as my blood surged and boiled and the room spun around in dizzy loops. My load never even breached the barrel of my gun.
Seeming naively innocent about it, Sam continued to hold that pose, but his twinkling, mischievous eyes were telling a different story entirely.
As soon as my gagging breath could form words, I stammered raggedly, "What are you... how can you... Ooohh.... Ooooohhhhhhh...."
My orgasm was completely on auto-pilot: there was no stopping it. Despite this iron grip around my big schlong, that overwhelming vision of Sam posed so provocatively in front of me compelled me - demanded me - to keep cumming. My balls yanked up again even harder, actually hitting Sam's muscle glutes as I pumped out my second powerful volley.
"Fire in the hole!" Sam exclaimed, validating that his Launch Control had also detected another missile firing.
But his freakily accommodating ass drew tighter and grounded that ICBM on the pad, containing its blast-thrust. It didn't stop at crude power, either. In the midst of this all-encompassing crushing sensation around my cock, I began to feel distinct, localized waves of more focused pressure, as if an even tighter, more constricting `ring' surrounding my thick shaft at a specific point along its length. But this `ring' moved along the shaft like internal fingers jerking me off. This wave moved from the head of my cock down my shaft towards my balls, almost like the way a farmer's fingers work a cow's teat to get milk. It felt like having my cock `milked' - but completely in reverse. He was forcing my throbbing orgasmic cum back down into my quivering balls.
Sam was clearly enjoying himself.
"I loves the way your huge balls slams my big cheeks when you's cumin'. Oooh, wow... that's SOOOO hot...."
Sam could savor that particular sensation all he wanted because this impossible act he was performing only increased the intensity with which my big cannon fired, recoiled, reloaded and fired over and over again; every shoot just as terrifically powerful as the previous.
"Oooh, jeez... wow. Ooooh, jeez. Oooooohhhhhhhh.... "
My perpetual hard-on had become my perpetual orgasm. As I shoot ferocious volley after volley, Sam's muscular manhole strangled my big bone in a warm, wet, undulated vice-grip. It was a valiant duel to the death. My big enraged commanders screamed orders for my cannon to ceaselessly fire until all of their massive stockpiles of ammunition were depleted, yet not a single round could squeeze out of collapsed barrel. And miraculously my big ammo stores were being re- supplied as fast as I could empty them.
"Oooh, fuck... wooowww. Ooooh, jeez, Sam... Oooooohhhhhhhh...."
The barrel of my big gun must have been glowing red-hot and on the verge of melting from my relentless barrage. I was sweating profusely in empathy and couldn't catch my breath as each unrelieved orgasm spun my brain around on its stem. My entire existence hadn't the resources to absorb what was happening. It felt like my entire body might explode into pinwheels of ecstasy during this, the longest sustained orgasm in my life
Sam enjoyed the hell out of this torture, too. "Oh yeh ... That pulsatin' monster feels so hot.... Oh, yeh. It's so big ... So full... Wow...."
And so it went incredibly onward; my bold Napoleon vainly trying to muscle past his out-maneuvering Wellington. I'd met my Waterloo, inevitably outflanked by a clearly superior, indefatigable force. My firing slowly subsided with exhaustion, but there the analogy stops, for I doubt Napoleon smiled at the moment of his defeat. I, on the other hand, surrendered beaming ear-to-ear, writhing in pleasure beyond my imagination.
My cock no longer took orders from my body, but only from Sam. He pulled himself with aching slowness off of my cock and moved up on the bed, then stretched out beside me, resting his head on one elbow and putting his other arm around my waist. He was beaming every bit as much as I was.
"Oh wow... Oh wow, that was AWESOME, Sam," I panted breathlessly. "I was cumming FOREVER!"
"But `cha didn't," he said, almost laughing as he shook his head. "You had yourself one terrific orgasm - but ya never cummed. You never spilt a single drop of your jizzim. Them big balls of yours are still fully-charged. I done seen to that myself!"
That brought up another point. "How did you do that! That was the wildest... the weirdest feeling! In every way, it felt exactly like I was cumming.... well, sorta. But how could you just do that - that `thing' that you did?"
My cock shivered in recognition of its master. I marveled, "How did you do that! That was the wildest ... the weirdest thing ever! It felt exactly like I was cumming ... well, sorta. But how did you ever DO that?"
Sam grinned, a bit sheepish yet proud of himself at the same time.
"I just has a way with those muscles, I guess. But I sorta had to do it, Pete. I wanted ya to still be just as excited... so's... so's ya'd stay freaky-sized," he said, sounding almost confessional. He reached down and, wrapping his hand around my bone, began stroking and playing with it gently. "Just like ya still is, I see. Guess it worked, huh? Bet `cha you's still feelin' just as horny, right?"
"More!" I gaped. I felt as randy as a rabbit; my lust hadn't diminished in the slightest. My bone was still a total freakazoid and hard as a rock. Not even a minute had passed, and yet I couldn't wait to do it all over. I had a lot of lost time to make up when it came to sex, too. I felt like a kid locked overnight in a candy shop and I found myself wishing he'd just roll over so I could fuck him again and again.
"That fucking felt a gazillion times better than a pumpkin, Sam!"
He just chuckled. "You gotta tell me about that some time. But not now...."
"So did ya like fuckin' my hole, Pete? I never felt no man like you before. Damn near made me cry tears `o joy too, it did."
I was surprised to hear him use words that unknowingly described my own feelings, too.
"Pete, it felt like you was made to order exactly for me. That's an amazin' big hot dong on you, boy. You's like some miracle just come into my life, right out of nowhere. Like we was made special, all along, just to fit together, exactly like that. So there - now you's o-fficially fucked, boy. Did ya really like it? I mean - was there somethin' that seemed real special `bout it to you?"
I wasn't sure exactly what Sam meant. "It's not like I've had a lot of experience, Sam... you know - fucking anyone. But that was the hottest sex I EVER had - way better even than a blow job... well, not that I've had a lot of those either... I'm more than a mouthful, I guess...."
Sam's eyes sparkled and he nodded, pleased.
"Nothin' ever made me as hot as your huge cock. I loves a guy playin' around in my play pen anytime, ya know.... just havin' fun with it... fuckin' it, and everythin'. But my sex-u-al urges, they got even powerfuller after ya sucked on my pecs and juiced `em so good before. I just gets wet for the man and extra-accomodatin'... and extra-horny feelin', too... like I'm feelin' right now...."
I wasn't sure I followed him totally - but I sure liked the way he was handling my cock at the moment.
"What do you mean, your `play pen,' Sam?"
"Why, I means my ass - and that big hole in the center of it, to be r- e-a-l specific," he said, looking as if he couldn't quite believe that I didn't know. He might have been looking for some sign or some signal of sorts from me, but I wasn't sure.
"Truth is, it seemed like guys with the bigger cocks seem to like playin' with a man's butt, `specially. I just don't knows if ya has that special yearnin' inside ya somewhere, too. Can't blame me for just hopin' that you might be that kinda guy too - seein' you've got this here beautiful cock on you the size no other man I ever seen. I was hopin' that you'd wanna get much better acquainted with my play pen tonight. I was hopin' that gettin' in-between my big pearly gates was sorta your thing, too."
While I seemed to be getting his general drift, I was also missing all the nuances.
"I... I just don't really know, Sam," I said cautiously. "It's like I said. I pretty new to all of this. But your butt sure felt... wow... unbelievably hot! I'm not sure how I'd even know what you really mean."
Sam had an idea. "Well, let's try somethin' then for the hell of it, OK? Lemme just show ya. See if this does anythin' for ya. Here, take a look. Is my ass sexy?"
Absolutely everything about the magnificent beast of a man was utterly sexy, so that hardly seemed an enlightening question to ask me.
Nevertheless, Sam rolled on to his back and threw his huge legs up over his head, resting his feet on the headboard of the bed. He shifted more of his weight on to his expansive upper back and shoulders and then spread his legs further apart with amazing agility. That pushed his beach balls even higher off the mattress. Apparently this was to further facilitate my hands-on inspection. One of Sam's hands managed to locate my cock and balls again, not that they were any challenge to find, and began to fondle them.
Suddenly, just seeing those deep treads on the big wheels mounted on his chassis looming up so close to my face made me drool like an imbecile. I remembered how captivated I'd by Sam's glutes before, up in the kitchen when Sam was giving my first lesson on human muscular anatomy, ironically using inhumanly-sized muscles as his teaching aids.
Seeing those perfect hard moons rising up over the bed screamed `sex' to me. His was the most magnificent `arschbacken' I'd even seen. My arms reached out as if they were being controlled by an invisible puppeteer.
"Your ass looks... absolutely hot, Sam..." I said, even as my hands already roamed the hemispheres of his magnificent, hard twin moons.
"Yeah, I sure likes feelin' your hands rubbin' my butt, too. Wow, that feels good..." Sam replied, almost purring. He lifted his head a little to get a better look at me.
"Yeah, you just might have it in ya, afterall. Go ahead, Pete. Play with my big butt some more. And remember, Pete - let that `ol genie out of the bottle. Do anythin' ya feels like doin' down there. Anythin' at all. It makes me hot."
With Sam flashing me the green light, I surrendered to my crazy, impulsive urge to just smack his ass cheeks with a hard open hand.
Sam's moaned loadly, "Oh, WOW. Yeah, that's it. Really get their attention...."
I began checking his tires more enthusiastically, kicking the treads with my fist, and running my hands below the rims.
"Woof! Feels like you's got the magic touch, sure `nuf. You might be a natural bum chum, Pete. Maybe ya never had no way to know that before, I reckon. Just keep playin' with my butt some more - any way you want. It feels REAL good...."
I was feeling exceptionally aroused. This activity seemed to be bringing out the Explorer Scout in me.
As if he'd just read my mind, Sam added, "Ever looked down a manhole before?"
The things that suddenly popped out of Sam's mouth could be counted upon to disarm me.
"Ahhh, no... No, I haven't..." I said cautiously, half-embarrassed that perhaps this was also something I should have been more familiar with already - like fucking. I was also half afraid that I might find it a bit too interesting.
"Do ya wanna see my big manhole?"
"Aah, sure, Sam. Alright. I guess so..." I replied, trying to sound deliberately ambivalent. I didn't want to appear to Sam to be overly enthusiastic. I wasn't sure why.
But Sam was almost cooing with joy. He grabbed his two beach balls and opened his crack for my personal inspection.
"Look-ee, Pete. This here's my big play pen. You can call it my manhole - or my man-pussy - or my fuck hole - or even my cunt if ya want. Names - they don't bother me none. I sure knows I'm a man. From the looks of me, I suspects everybody else sure knows that, too. I loves hot sex - and I knows exactly the way I like it best, too. So call it anything that's sexy-soundin' to you."
I stared blankly at his pink, glistening fissure, at once shocked at myself for even looking and yet too enthralled for my own comfort. Sam knew me much better than I knew myself at that time.
"Woooowwww..." I groaned, totally awed by the unexpected power of his ass.
Sam made his hole slowly pulsate like a sea anemone moves water in and out of its body cavity. This big pink eye was seductively winking at me - inviting me. The only thing that I could think of to call it was...
"Schoen hoehle... errr.. that's one hot hole, Sam...."
"So, is my big manhole sexy?"
"Is that ever... so sexy...."
Maybe it was the awe on my face, or my schlong slowly pulsating in sympathetic rhythm with his hot cavern, or the drool falling on his ass from my opened mouth that really led Sam to say,
"I thought ya had the look of a real top dog, Pete," he said, almost delirious with approval. "I knows a genuine butt boy when I see one. Yee Hawww!"
But while I may have been a `born-natural,' Sam could also sene my apprehension and reluctance. My hitherto unknown instincts would require his utmost care, devotion and encouragement - to be carefully fed and nurtured to blossom fully.
Sam astutely chose to encourage me with all the finesse of a carnival barker. He knew his customer - and most importantly, what would hook me and reel me in. So utilizing all the savvy of a seasoned Marketing strategist, Sam launched his appeal to my latent sensibilities with a full multimedia blitz.
"Here, lemme show you my hole even better...."
As he talked, he looped his massive arms around his hamstrings and pulled his knees up to his head. This new piked position spread his cheeks further apart, showcasing his sensual flowerbud. Sam's remarkable flexibility forced sinews and cables of muscle to the surface, all the more astounding for the thickness and immensity of his stretching, hard flesh.
"Some guy told me when I was fourteen that I was a natural-born rider, Pete. `Course even back then I was bigger than an average grown man. A power bottom - that's what he called me," Sam said matter-of-factly.
I'm sure I looked real confused.
"You know - a REAL hog bottom!" Sam added, attempting to clarify it for me.
"Eine schweinvötze?" I blurted, surprised. I didn't understand. Unfortunately, `pig's cunt' was the best I could come up with on the fly.
"Yeah, well I'm probably that, too -- whatever that means," Sam chortled. "I never know'd what he meant by that for a long time, though. Then I growed even bigger and got me these big muscles over time, so's I scared even more guys anyway. Well, most guys, actually, by the time I was right around your age, to tell ya the God's honest truth. But that didn't matter much anyway. The bigger I got though, the smaller guys' cocks seemed to get. There wasn't enough there to even begin to fill the job requirements. I thought I'd never find the right hog for my pigpen - that was, before you came along...."
Sam released one leg and then gave my cock a couple of affectionate squeezes with his free hand to emphasize his point. Sam grabbed his leg again and wiggled his ass for my benefit. I never knew the male posterior had so many ridges and cuts, each capable of so many distinct and separate movements. He flexed his big wheel, winked his hole, twisted his lower spine slightly from side to side, and raised and lowered one leg relative to the other - all at the same time. His slow ass-rippling mambo was spectacularly alluring. But as if that wasn't seductive enough, he wore all-the-while a sexy `come hither' expression. I felt downright patriotic with my rocket's red glare and his beautiful big bombs bursting in air, and all. My flag would still be there in the morning, too - guaranteed. My temples were throbbing again already.
Like a bee, I was drawn back over and over again to Sam's sensual big flower. Perhaps it was because I'd never really seen one before that I was so fascinated and bewitched. But it seemed even more than that, as if something inside urged me insistently to explore the hidden depths of his rosebud.
"You wanna do somethin' with my manhole? Why don't ya just play with it. Go ahead. It's hot for me, too. Whatever makes you feel horny."
"Can I.... just stick my finger in there? Ah... would ya mind?" I said, though it was more a statement of my desire than a request. I felt idiotic, my pseudo-politeness belying I'd just finished stuffing it like a turkey. I flushed and my salivating mouth went suddenly dry.
"Sure, you can stick anythin' ya want in there. I'm a real big guy. Hell, you can even stick your head inside if that turns you on! And talk sexy, Pete... I loves to here ya talkin' real sexy to me...."
I timidly poked my index finger into the center of his hole up to the first finger joint.
Sam responded very encouragingly as soon as he felt my probing finger. "Oooo, yeah. Play with my hot hole some more...."
Inside, it felt wonderfully wet and warm - like firm Jell-O. My entire finger began poking in and out under its own power, like it was testing a cake - one very hot birthday cake just about ready to be done.
Sam encouraged me to be bolder.
"You done teasin' me with that lone soldier yet? You've scouted the cave. It's safe to bring up the rest of the troops now. It's a real big cave, boy. Yeah, that'll feel good. Ummmm...."
Again I felt the odd sensation Sam was reading my mind... or maybe leading it on somehow. I immediately recruited another digit to join the scouting party - and meeting no signs of enemy resistance, I then engaged a third. And it all seemed automatic, semi-conscious, instinctual - nothing I'd ever imagined doing, must less enjoying. Like some part of me I'd never met was taking control of me limb by limb.
"Ooooh.... Yeah. Now you're startin' to get me goin'. Yeah, play with my fuckhole...."
Sam seemed to be enjoying playing soldiers as much as I was, and he was right. The Three Musketeers weren't flushing out any more resistance that the single scout had. I carefully tried the Four Horsemen, but even in calvary charge formation, the resistance I'd expected never materialized. This seemed to be way too easy.
"Yeah. That's good. That's real good....Ooooo...."
Sam writhed in obvious erotic delight as I slowly began twisting the Four Horseman around, withdrawing and then reinserting them cautiously from different angles. Spreading his legs wider, he engaged my hand with lusty butt thrusts in the opposite direction. I hesitated, anxious I might exceed some arbitrary `acceptable' limit. Sensing my reticence, Sam just muscled himself right onto my motionless hand like an anaconda swallowing a deer. I watched my hand disappear right in front of my eyes, stopped only by my extended thumb.
"Oh, wow.... That feels GREAT! Yeehaaa! Well H-E-L-L-O there! Please to meet you too, Pete!!!"
My hand was suddenly seized in a steel glove and squeezed hard several times in rapid succession. The brief but powerful grip came out of nowhere, as if my hand was being checked out - examined - or shaken... Something about the decisiveness of this pressure hinted at Sam's capability to exert far more force than I currently felt. I hitched a breath, realizing that had he wanted to, he could have easily crushed even bone in my hand. I jerked my arm back spasmodically but it didn't move, as if caught in a spring trap; I relaxed just as it did.
Sam said sheepishly, "I just wanted to feel it a bit, that's all...."
He rested his head back on the pillow and rolled his eyes back as if savoring a rare delicacy. My hand was repeatedly gripped again, firmly but more caressingly than before.
"Yeah, that's terrific! I always says you can tell a guy by his firm handshake," Sam chortled, raising his head up to look at me directly.
I couldn't believe that Sam's man-cave was remotely the same as mine, or any other man's I'd ever encountered before. It simply wasn't `behaving' in conceivable ways. His chute seemed extraordinary pliable, almost amorphous. It easily accommodated invasion by any number of foreign troops while also adapting instantly to any field formation I presented. It could also in a flash become virginally tight. Whenever Sam chose, he could make it as formidably unyielding as a medieval fortress, or as irresistible as a rip-tide. And I noted another odd characteristic, too, as I pulled out. Anything that passed through Sam's garage doors was treated like a car driving into a Jiffy Lube. My hand was coated with a strange, frictionless, glistening thin mucous.
But freaky or not, when compared with all others, his was also like going from a Yugo to a Jaguar complete with all the amenities; luxurious, comfortable, fast, powerful... and it made me feel sexy. I started shivering all over, sensing some Pandora's box within me about to open, and change me forever.
"Show me that gorgeous schlong of yours, boy. Just sit right across my chest so's I can just look at it up close."
Sam lowered his legs and shifted his body up on the huge bed so that his head rested on the pillow.
"Park that beautiful butt right here," he directed, patting his chest to indicate where he meant.
His upper torso was so broad that straddling his chest was more like mounting a saddled horse. I had to spread my legs so widely that I had no choice but to actually sit. I winced, my legs unaccustomed to stretching this far. His chest fully supported my butt and inner thighs, my knees barely grazing the mattress. His chest was so deep I looked down at a steep angle into his shadowed, square-jawed face.
I rode the swells of his breathing like a canoe, slowly relaxing my thighs. Like a mountain stream tracing it's way through a pass, my big family jewels rolled down-slope more and came to a tethered rest out in front of me, nestled comfortably in the alpine valley between the majestic slopes of his mountainous pecs.
Sam eyed my boys covetously. "Damn! You got some REAL balls. They're big as Atlas Stones - you could go bowlin' with them things!"
I chuckled, "Looks like I'd be rolling all gutter balls."
Gravity was not having its way with my cock, however. My fully- fueled missile defiantly arced out over his face, slowly oozing pre- cum like fuel vapors as a sign of its launch readiness.
We remained gently rocking for quite awhile. I felt a bit queasy, rising and falling like a horse on a merry-go-round, every breath he took unencumbered by my full body weight. Sam seemed completely happy though to gaze at my cock while he beat his own. I felt equally contented to just look at him looking at my cock, watch the huge muscles in his arm and shoulder rhythmically flexing as he played with himself, and feel the vast living city of muscle teeming beneath me. It was a sublime moment. Ah, yes - the simple joys in life.
As Sam meditated on my fat happy Buddha, he quietly recited a breathy ritual mantra as he played with himself.
"... big cock... so big... unbelievable... so hot... wow.... it's so huge...." Every now and then he'd extend his tongue, lapping underneath my big dickhead to catch another long stalactite of pre- cum as it hovered above his face. Then I'd hear him moan, "Uummmmm..." softly, as if savoring Hagen-Daas' newest flavor of the month.
The tempo and earth-moving sensations sparked ritual prayers in my mind too. I envisioned myself with a group of ancient Hawaiians. We were standing along the precipitous rim of Kilauea, tossing flowery lays into the volcano's fiery abyss below as reverent offerings to Pele, the trembling might of the god making us sway on our mortal feet. Yup, tossing a few lays into a hot hole ... those Hawaiian's had the right idea, alright. They knew not only what to worship but how to appease their gods. I opened my eyes when I realized that I myself longed for an eruption....
Which meant this subdued prayer meeting was in sore need of some good old-fashioned Southern-style revivalism. I wanted to get this congregation really fired-up and hooting and stomping on their feet. Sam liked `sexy talk' as he put it. His attention was already on the big preacher in the pulpit. I just needed to testify.
"Wow, my cock feels so damn heavy. So - is it really as big as a dong, Sam? I mean, do you think it's really sexy?"
"Oh wow, yeah. It's even bigger than a dong. It's freakin' huge! That's the sexiest piece of manmeat in the whole world!"
"It's sooooo hard, too. It's never been this big and hard at the same time. Did it feel sexy when we were fucking? It's so freaky big, it's hard to believe it felt good ... you know ... when it was all up in your ass...."
"Felt good? It felt unbelievable! Swear to God - it's the sexiest piece of manmeat ever fucked me!"
Fertile ideas seemed to be taking root again, at least judging from the renewed sparkle in Sam's eyes.
"I really like that `fucking' thing - a lot! I never expected it would feel so wonderful ... and I felt HUGE, too. Did it feel huge to you, too?"
"Oh yeah ... huge alright ... just PERFECT! Sometimes it's hard for me to feel if a guy's teeny weenie is even inside me yet! But your jumbo dick is just a fuckin' miracle, Pete. It just sat up and said hello. I feel satisfied ... completed ... No other flesh `n' blood cock ever done that for me."
I could almost see the wheels beginning to turn in Sam's head now. I crossed my fingers.
"My hole's feelin' all wet and twitchy again, Pete. Wanna fuck?"
I thought he'd never ask! Jeez yes, did I ever. Visions of sugarplums danced in my head. I wished Sam would just roll over so I could mount him like a stallion because rolling him over myself was, of course, not even an option.
My head started nodding up and down like a 2 year old being asked if he wanted an ice cream cone.
"O.K, Pete, but why don't `cha say it sexy-like for me," Sam teased.
So I considered for a second what might sound perfectly `romantic' - well, at least to Sam's ears.
"I wanna stuff you like a turkey...."
"Gees, you says the sweetest things," Sam cooed, shivering with delight, "and sausage stuffin's my FAVORITE, too!"
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