Promoting Jet 3
by Londonboy
Mick was standing in the foyer of the house when Jet yelled down that he was almost ready. Mick had successfully awakened Claude and his men. Claude was very apologetic about everything, but it was obvious that he and his men wanted to get the hell away from Jet as quickly as possible. Mick had begun to explain that he’d send the men a big bonus, but Claude told him to keep his money and to make sure the muscle-powered Jet never came near them again. Mick could see that all three men were terrified of Jet, but also incredibly turned on by his body and his power. Mick was beaming with pride as all three men scrambled from the house, practically running to their cars. Mick was also pretty sure that all three whipped their cocks out of their pants on the way home and beat off thinking about Jet. This kind of power over men excited Mick beyond belief. He could not imagine being able to make grown men so impressed that they would risk being seen jerking off as they drove down the freeway. Mick was unclear as to whether he wanted that kind of power of if he just wanted the muscled stud now descending the stairs in front of him.
Somehow, Jet had been able to force his huge body into some nice slacks, a button-down shirt, and a blazer. It was quite obvious that the blazer could not have been buttoned even if Jet’s life had depended on it. Mick was pretty sure, looking at the big man, that the shoulders and arms of the coat would burst at the seams if Jet inhaled or flexed a little harder than usual. Fuck, this was one of the most beautiful sights that Mick had ever seen. Jet had recently cut his shoulder length black hair and basically looked like some Olympic god trying to pass as human. Mick knew this is exactly what the mythical figure Hercules would have looked like if he had been brought to life in 2008. Mick’s gaze then slid down the guy’s monstrous upper body to his beer-keg-sized thighs covered by pants that looked like they were painted on. Mick was nervous that Jet wouldn’t be able to sit down. The sight of Jet’s cock bulging across his left thigh made Mick’s mouth drop open. The thing was flaccid, but looked like Jet had decided to sneak some wine into the restaurant by hiding a bottle in his pants. Even limp the monstrous prick looked to be Jet’s most powerful and bulked up muscle. Mick’s mouth went dry and he became somewhat dizzy. He drifted to that forbidden place in his mind and wondered what it would be like to have that wine bottle of a dick inflate to the size of a fire extinguisher and then feel it shoved up his ass. Mick’s own cock was now stretching upward and pressed against his pants in a painful bow because his tight belt prevented it from extending beyond his waist. Mick knew the bulge in his pants was impossible to hide, so he just stood there showing his appreciation of the muscleman in front of him. Jet was not one to miss any hard-on, no matter what size. He took the final two stairs down and walked toward Mick never taking his eyes from the older man’s crotch. Mick felt his face turning red with embarrassment, but still did nothing to cover his hardened tool. Jet came forward and stood so close that Mick got a strong whiff of the man’s showered body. Even after obviously washing his pumped up muscles with soap and water, Jet emitted a noticeable manly musk that caused Mick’s entire frame to immediately cover in goose bumps. There was absolutely no physical part of Mick’s body that did not crave to touch the mega human in front of him. A man can never clearly understand where the fortitude to say no to temptation comes from, but Mick somehow prevented himself from begging Jet to rip the strained clothes off of his muscled body and then plowing his waiting ass right there in the hallway. Mick tried to speak calmly.
“Ready for dinner?”
“I think I’m more ready for the dessert!”
The meaning of Jet’s comment was not lost on Mick, but he simply turned away from the tower of muscle in front of him, reached down to relieve the pressure on his bowed cock by pushing it to the side, and walked out the front door. Mick was completely aware that it was getting more difficult to not succumb to his desire for sex with Jet. He also realized that Jet was aware of this little problem, as well. The big guy seemed to be like a lion in the tall grass waiting for his chance to pounce on his unsuspecting prey. Mick began to worry about his ability to not give in to the temptation that haunted both his waking hours and his sleep. His dreams of Jet were becoming almost more vivid than the reality of the huge man and that was incredibly hard to accomplish. Two nights ago Mick had had his first wet dream since he was about twelve years old. The only thing the could remember about the sex-filled sequence that filled his mind as he slept was the sensation of hardness – a feeling of warm steel surrounding him and something even hotter pressing against, and then entering, his ass. That’s when the feeling of warm cum covering his stomach had awakened him. Mick was so turned on by his dream that he decided to not get out of bed and clean up the mess. He wanted to lay there with his sticky juice covering him as a reminder of what Jet could evoke from even his sleeping body. Somehow, Mick knew there would be many more cum-filled dreams in the near future and he looked forward to it.
The woman employed as hostess of the California City Club knew Mick very well. She had always gone out of her way to make the businessman very happy. Mick was pretty sure she was a gold-digger hopeful that she could convert the openly gay member. When she greeted them at the entranceway to the dining room of the club, though, it seemed Mick no longer existed. She had actually gasped out loud at the beauty and size of Jet when she looked up from the podium to the side of the archway. She quickly acknowledged Mr. Jacobs, but then was all eyes and attention towards Jet. Mick was sure he saw her nipples go hard when she took in all of Jet’s massiveness. After being led to their table, the hostess had stood there with a hand carelessly placed on Jet’s huge shoulder. The woman’s fingers and palm looked freakishly small resting on the mammoth mound of muscle pressing against that unpadded part of Jet’s coat. Mick could not believe the woman was so desperate to feel the muscled stud that she would jeopardize her job and interact with a member’s guest in an unacceptable manner. Mick loved that Jet had this power over anyone he met. Mick was also aware that every eye in the dining room had been on the two men, well, maybe just on one of the men, as they were led to their table. It was good to be sitting down so that Mick’s raging hard-on would finally be covered by a white table cloth. Mick ordered two scotch-on-the-rocks and Jet made a face that was filled with doubt. Mick could see that Jet was having trouble letting go of his perfect nutrition regime even for one evening. Mick chuckled as he softly spoke to the giant across from him.
“Let it go for one night, Jet, please. You deserve this. I mean it. Just look at yourself. You’ve accomplished already more than we could have ever dreamed. One night is not going to ruin anything. If it makes you feel better you can plan on working out twice as hard tomorrow to make up for it.”
This seemed to calm the worried face of Jet slightly and he nodded in agreement. Mick was overwhelmed with a desire to “take care of” this man. It came out of nowhere and Mick felt himself turn a little red from the surprise of his feelings. He quickly looked at the menu to prevent Jet from noticing. Jet was too busy looking at the menu, himself, to note any change in Mick’s demeanor.
“I don’t know half of the stuff listed on this menu. You may have to help me order, Mick. I’m afraid I’m a little out of my league at the California City Club. I’ve always wanted to come, though. Now I’m not sure I see why it’s such a big deal.”
Jet looked around the dining room and was obviously impressed, but didn’t want to seem overwhelmed by the new surroundings. This made Mick smile. So, there was a small chink in the muscled armor of big Jet. Mick knew exactly how to get rid of any feeling of discomfort in the behemoth across from him.
“Let me make some things perfectly clear to you, Jet. First and foremost, everyone in this room either desires your fucking huge body like you were the last man on earth, or they are so intimidated by you that their cocks have shriveled up completely. Don’t you get it? There are people here that have not stopped looking at you since we entered the room. I guarantee there are even straight men here that would change their orientation for a night just to worship what’s under that skin-tight jacket. There are other guys here that immediately felt small and inadequate when you entered the room. Those men are going to go home tonight and promising themselves to start a new workout program. They got a glimpse of what a real man looks like and they want the same thing you have, Jet, but they’ll never get it. Hell, most of them would give a few of their billions to transform their body to even a fraction of what you’ve become. All of the women here, by the way, would probably give up their billionaire husbands if you but looked their way and smiled. So, Jet, my boy, who in the hell cares if you don’t know the best wine on the menu or what how to pronounce a few words, what matters most is that you rule this dining room. You rule it just because you could take on everyone in the entire place at the same time and not even break a sweat in the process of winning. So you just sit back and let Mick take care of you. You have everyone here either really turned on or feeling like they are the biggest wimp on the planet.”
“And, in all of those descriptions, where do you fall Mickey, boy?”
“Ah, ah, ah, remember, no…”
“I know, I know, no mixing pleasure with business. I remember.”
“That’s right. Besides that, you know exactly where I fall, now don’t you Jet.”
Across Jet’s face came that ominous, but cocky smile that I longed to cause any chance I could. Each time he looked at me that way a wave of deep satisfaction ran up and down my spine. It usually ended with a sharp jolt to my crotch, but since I was already hard, it merely increased the throbbing in my cock. Jet’s face turned devious and he leaned in so I could hear as he spoke in almost a whisper.
“You’re hard right now, aren’t you Mr. Jacobs? You’ve been hard since I walked down the stairs at your house. Am I right?”
“You know the answer to that question, as well, Jet. Now come on, you have to allow me some time to calm down. I can’t walk out of here later on looking like I’ve taken an entire bottle of Viagra or like I spilled some creamy soup all over the front of my pants. We both have to stay focused on our ultimate goals and not let instant gratification rule us.”
Mick could tell that his words had done the complete opposite of what he hoped they would. He had turned on Jet more than he was before. Jet grabbed his glass and downed his scotch in one long gulp. It was obvious the big man wanted Mick desperately, but wanted the other goals even more. It was clear that he was trying to calm himself down as much as Mick. When he set his glass down Jet looked at Mick with a pleading face.
“I get all of that Mick and I agree, but it’s getting really hard – and I don’t just mean my dick. I’m starting to have trouble focusing on what I’m doing because I haven’t had sex for so long. Hell, today I almost took advantage of the unconscious Claude and the other two men just because I needed some release. Instead I just started lifting. But, Mick, I don’t know what I’m going to do if I don’t have sex sometime soon. Beating off by myself is just not cutting it anymore. I need to plow some guy’s ass until I shoot the gallons of cum that have been building up since I started to grow. I’m begging you, Mick, to help me somehow. I’m not used to going this long without fucking.”
Jet’s face was full of desperation. While he was speaking it had dawned on Mick that the super stud across from him had been taken completely away from his former life as if he were going “cold turkey.” The man had made his living for months by having sex constantly. It was incredible that he had made it this long without attacking some guy. It also explained why he was such a maniac when it came to working out. Pumping iron and learning the skills of kickboxing had become something akin to having sex for the powerful Jet. Mick immediately went into action mode. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his iPhone. He held it in his lap because he knew that all cellular devices were banned in the dining room – a rule that he appreciated very much - but this was an emergency. He could tell that Jet was baffled by what he was doing. He got the feeling that the big dude thought Mick wasn’t listening to what he had just said. After a quick moment of texting, Mick put away his phone and looked back at Jet.
“Jet, my good friend, I have solved your problem. There will be a present arriving for you at my place later this evening. I’ve gotten you a discreet friend for the night. I requested that he be huge and a big bottom. How does that sound?”
The look of gratitude and excitement on Jet’s face was the only answer Mick needed. There was something about pleasing this muscled beast that made Mick happier than he had ever been in his entire life. There was a slight pang of disappointment that he wouldn’t be the man plowed by Jet’s thick cock, but Mick was able to keep their business arrangement in the forefront of his mind. He was just glad that he was able to offer a little relief to Jet’s sexual tension.
“I’d say that sounds fantastic and gives us a reason for another drink!”
Mick laughed and then signaled to their waiter for another round of scotch. Both men returned to their menus to decide what was best for dinner. Mick was very attentive and helpful as Jet tried to learn words on the menu that he had never heard before. Their meal was exquisite and they enjoyed a nice bottle of wine that complimented the food perfectly. Jet ordered herbal tea as Mick finished his meal with a cup of coffee. They were sitting in a post-meal contentment when a man approached their table from across the room.
“Hello Mick. I didn’t realize they were still allowing assholes to be members here.”
Mick felt his body tense up a little. He recognized the voice without even looking up. At the same time he also heard something that sounded like cloth ripping. He glanced across the table before acknowledging the intruder and realized that Jet’s body had also tensed from the comment and that seams on the blazer had begun to rip somewhere. Mick’s calm look was intended to help Jet not become alarmed.
“Well obviously, Stan, because here you are. Stan Caldwell, this is Jet Turner. Jet, this is Stan. Stan owns a large shipping company but likes to act like he owns many more companies.”
This comment immediately pissed off the inebriated, obese man that totally ignored Jet, placed his hand on the edge of the table, and then leaned in close to Mick’s face. Both Jet and Nick noticed that Stan reeked of alcohol. They also noticed that Stan raised his voice as he attempted to make himself more impressive than Mick.
“I just got the latest Jaguar, Jacobs, but I noticed you’re still driving your same lame car. You obviously don’t know what power is. I can get the guys in the valet here to take care of me in a special way just by sliding them a twenty. You probably still find it fun to park your own car, don’t you, simple man.”
“Well, Stan, it’s best to save a little money in case of rainy days, now, isn’t it?”
“Listen, you little cocksucker, I know you’re trying to plan a hostile takeover of my company, but it won’t happen. You got it, shit-for-brains. You stay away from my company or you might find yourself face down in a ditch somewhere. Owww!”
Mick was caught off guard by the sudden scream of pain at the end of Stan’s diatribe, but then he followed Stan’s gaze to the table and saw two of Jet’s giant fingers pressing into the top of Stan’s hand. Mick could immediately sense the power in those two fingers. Stan’s hand was flat against the table and turning white. It was obvious that the pressure was preventing blood from flowing to anywhere below the wrist. Mick was scared that bones would be broken or that Stan’s hand would be forced through the solid oak table. Jet’s voice was calm, but firm. He was staring directly into the eyes of Stan Caldwell.
“I think it’s best if you back off little man. You need to get out of Mr. Jacobs’ face. As a matter of fact, you need to go back to the other side of the room where you came from before I pick you up and toss you over there myself. I would look carefully before you respond, because you’ll see that these arms could throw you through the fucking wall if I wanted to. If you ever talk to Mr. Jacobs that way again I will personally fold your body in on itself until you are able to lick your own asshole. Do you understand little man, Stan?”
“Fuck you, meathead. Owww!”
Mick wished he could have warned Stan. He knew that his remarks would cause Jet to press even harder into the hand nailed to the table. Mick was not prepared, though, to hear cracking noises as Jet pushed harder and stood up at the same time. Stan’s eyes grew wide, even in the midst of such intense pain, as he watched the huge body rise in front of him. Mick was pretty sure he smelled urine, but couldn’t turn to look at the front of Stan’s pants. He was too busy noticing two things. First he noticed that the sleeve of Jet’s coat, on the arm that led to the hand pressing into Stan’s hand, was tearing across the top of a tensed biceps. Stan’s gaze finally fell to that spot, as well. Both watched as Jet’s muscled peak forced a rip in both the jacket and shirt. It was the first time Mick had gotten a glimpse of the mountain of sinew, skin, and muscle slightly uncovered. Mick was sure his heart stopped beating for a few seconds. He was mesmerized by how much power Jet had in just two fucking fingers. Secondly, Mick noticed that Jet’s cock had shot fully hard during the little adrenaline rush of overpowering this man so easily. Mick could not take his eyes off of the huge stiff prick bulging in Jet’s pants. At this point Jet was leaning down so he could look Stan in the face.
“I guess I didn’t make myself clear. If you ever want to use this hand again you’d better just turn around and leave our table. It wouldn’t take me any effort at all to crush every bone in your fat hand and I’d probably get a lot of pleasure from doing it. Now for the last time I’m going to ask you politely to leave Mr. Jacobs alone. Do I make myself clear?”
Mick looked up and saw that Stan’s face was as white as his hand. He was also sweating profusely. Stan simply nodded his head quickly and Jet released the pressure from his fingers. Stan pulled his hand away, began rubbing it with his other one, and then backed away from the table, never taking his eyes off of Jet. Mick was finally able to see that there was a wet stain at Stan’s crotch. Jet had scared the piss out of him.
Jet sat back down as if nothing had happened. He took a few sips of his tea and watched Stan out of the corner of his eye. Stan rejoined his table and was trying to work out the pain in his hand. Everyone in the dining room seemed to have ignored what was going on, and things were now back to normal. Jet glanced up to Mick, who was simply staring at him in awe from across the table.
“Do you mind giving me a hundred bucks for something?”
Mick was a little caught off guard by the question, but didn’t want to analyze it too much. Without saying anything, he reached down, grabbed his wallet, and slid a crisp bill across the table to Jet.
“I’ll be right back, Mick.”
Jet got up from the table and walked away. Mick wanted to follow him to see where he was going, but something told him to stay put. Something incredible had just happened here. Jet had been able to assist Mick and that had shifted their relationship in some small way. Up to this point Mick had been the one in the driver’s seat – pushing this business deal completely. Mick had been the powerful one, but, tonight, Jet had laid claim to a piece of the power. Both men were somehow aware of a slight shift in their perception of the other. Jet was gone for about fifteen minutes. Right before Jet returned Mick saw Stan and his wife leave the dining room. The guy was still shaking his hand and trying to work out the pain. As soon as Jet got back to the table Mick noticed that the other sleeve of his jacket and shirt were now ripped. Jet had walked through the dining room in a way that prevented people from noticing the torn clothes, but when he sat down Mick noticed both biceps were pumped beyond belief and had split large holes in the fabric.
“Shall we go, Mick? I’d like to get home and be ready before my present arrives.”
“Of…of course, Jet.”
Both men stood and exited the dining room. Before they even got to the front door they could hear Stan’s loud voice yelling at someone. They walked out into the night air and moved toward the valet station. It was hard to not look over to where Stan and his wife were standing because the guy was yelling so loud.
“What do you mean the bumpers were off the car when you went to get it? That’s impossible. You must have done something crazy while parking. Bumpers don’t just fall off, asshole. Look at these things; it’s obvious that these have been ripped off in some way. What did you do hit a pole or something? I’m going to sue you guys for all you’re worth. Look at my fucking new car. It’s ruined.”
There was a group of valet guys and someone from the City Club staff standing there with Stan. Mick saw that the two bumpers of the Jaguar were hanging down by what looked like one screw or bolt. Mick also saw that the bumpers had been mangled in some way. He could not believe the valet guys had been so careless, but then, again, he figured they hated Stan as much as everyone else did. While they were getting in the car, he heard the guy opening Jet’s door whisper something strange to muscled man.
“Thank you sir, for the large tip.”
“No, thank you for the tip. I would not have known which one without you. We both got a lot of pleasure out of tonight, right.”
“Yes sir, and thanks for letting me watch. I won’t forget that ever.”
“Any time, man, any time.”
Suddenly doors were shut and there was silence in the car. Mick put the car into drive and started moving forward. He looked in his rear view mirror and saw the bumpers hanging to the ground and noticed they were twisted like rung-out hand towels. Something inside of him said to look down at Jet’s hands. Even though they had obviously been washed, there was something that looked like grease and dirt on his fingers. Mick looked back into his mirror as he drove away and everything fell into place. He was now on the street and had to immediately pull over to the side. He burst out laughing and turned to Jet.
“No way! Please tell me that you did not do that, Jet. Or maybe I want you to tell me all about it and then show me again. I don’t know whether to be angry at you or slap you on the back. He was so fucking mad, Jet. Tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.”
There was silence in the car. Jet turned to Mick and that damn smile crept across his face. He had a look that was both mischievous and utterly proud. Mick’s cock began to stir just from Jet’s smile.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about Mick. Now hurry, man, I have a guest coming soon. And I hope he’ll be cumming a lot.”
Jet turned back to look at the road. Mick started to protest, but then stopped. It was probably best not to know, but his cock definitely knew the truth. It was about to explode just from thoughts of Jet ripping metal bumpers from cars and twisting them like licorice. He pulled back into traffic and started the trip to his house, but he also added one final comment.
“Best one hundred bucks I’ve ever spent.”
To be continued