Robby's Imaginary Muscleman 3: Touching is Believing
by Londonboy
Later that night, there was no argument from Robby when I said it was time for bed. I could tell he was worn out from our day at the park. He asked me to read only one story before lights out and then, when it came time to ask God to look after people we loved, Robby only mentioned Charlie and me. I gave him a kiss, went to the door, and turned out the light.
“Dad,” Robby called out before I left the room.
“Yes, Captain,” I answered.
“Charlie’s going to sleep with you tonight,” he said. I couldn’t see his face, but I could tell, by his voice, that he was smiling. He almost sounded like he had some kind of secret he was keeping from me. I forced that thought out of my head – I was projecting again.
“Okay. You sure you don’t need him in here with you?” I asked, concerned about taking his imaginary friend away from him, which sounded so silly when I thought about it.
“Naw, he wants to be with you,” Robby said with a slight giggle. “He also says to bring the newspapers, I mean magazines.”
Robby corrected himself. My face flushed red and I reached up to turn the light on. I saw that he was looking right at me and was smiling. I found his stare slightly surprising. I knew he did not mean it the way it sounded, but part of me wondered if my five year old didn’t understand, on some level, what the pictures in the magazines did for me.
“Night, dad,” he said, turning on his side and shutting his eyes.
“Nighty-night, Captain,” I replied, switching off the light again.
I went back downstairs and was a little dumbfounded by my son’s comment about the magazines. I found myself a little tired, so I grabbed a glass of wine, turned out lights, and went back upstairs to go to bed. I changed into my favorite Yankees t-shirt and some boxers, preparing myself for a few chapters of the new David Sedaris book that sat on my bedside table. After a few pages and many sips of wine, my mind started drifting from the book I was reading to the magazines hidden under a box on the top shelf in my walk-in closet. I forced my thoughts to return to the book, but only finished two sentences before I took a big sip of wine, returned the book to the table, and got out of bed - headed for the closet. I returned to bed with a bundle of magazines in my hand. I sipped more wine as I lifted each magazine to glance at the cover, deciding that I would use the one with the biggest guy on the cover as my jerk-off material for the night. I settled on FLEX magazine, because on the cover it had a picture of a huge guy curling a barbell loaded with so many weights that his arms bulged out to insane proportions. The words that were printed across the bottom of the picture also made me choose this particular magazine. It read “Create Guns Full of Power!” There was something about a guy’s arms, and the idea of calling them guns, that really got my juices churning. My heart also leapt for joy when I found that the magazine’s center spread was completely about this guy’s arms. There were pictures of him in tight shirts, one of him in a business suit, and many of his naked upper body. The guy really did have huge “guns.” I stared at the pictures as I finished my wine. I was careful not to look at the text underneath the pictures, because I did not want to learn the guy’s name. Tonight, the man with the giant arms was going to be called “Charlie”. By the time I dropped the magazine on the floor, with the others, and turned out the lamp on the bedside table, my hand was already pumping my hardened cock. The slight buzz from the wine only increased my desire for a prolonged build up to ejaculation. I wanted to focus on Charlie’s arms for a while. I closed my eyes and pictured those monstrous arms connected to a big guy kneeling on the bed above me.
“Come and get it, Charlie,” I moaned out loud as I stroked by hard shaft.
I distinctly felt the sudden sensation of a heavy, muscled body lying on top of mine. I found it hard to breathe, but the feeling was so incredible that I didn’t care. My hand left my rod and fell onto the bed at my side. I thrust my chin into the air as my head pushed back into the pillow and my neck received what felt like two lips kissing and sucking. I was amazed at how real my fantasy sex session felt.
“Aw yeah, Charlie, your huge body feels nice,” I whispered, getting into the foreplay fully. “Squeeze me with those big guns.”
My arms suddenly seemed forced tightly into my sides, or it could have just been in my mind. I didn’t care. My imagination helped me to be held by hard, muscled arms and my body felt like it was on fire. The weight at my crotch got heavier and I began to focus on what seemed to be happening down there. My hard-as-a-board dick was being smashed by a larger piece of meat and “Charlie” was obviously rocking his own crotch back and forth. I could not ever remember having such a vivid masturbation session. I kept my eyes tightly shut because I did not want this dream to end. Just when I thought my cock could not stand any more of the rocking motion from the large prick rubbing against it, I felt the weight lessen on my upper body and crotch, but not my legs. It was obvious that my “Charlie” had hoisted his huge self onto those two pillar-like arms. I imagined reaching up and grabbing hold of the two meaty pecs that were bulging above me. It seemed so real to me. The feeling of hard layers of muscle, too huge to fully grab, made my body shake with pleasure. “Charlie” flexed his chest and my fingers were pushed out flat, preventing me from grabbing any of his flesh. I simply rubbed my open hands all over his broad upper body, finding his two hard nubs of steel and pinching them roughly. The room, or was it just in my mind, was filled with a deep moan that sounded like the rumble of thunder. My hands then moved up and across stone-like wide shoulders, caressing every striation and bulge. I then let them drop to what I had focused on in the first place – Charlie’s gargantuan arms. The sensation was so powerful that I thought I would lose my load immediately, but I was able to calm my cock and not discharge just from touching vein-covered, marble-like guns that felt bigger than my thighs. I let my fingers trace the hard-corded veins that snaked around his arms. I was immediately reminded of wide trees covered with thick vines and filled with centuries worth of power. How I wished that these kinds of arms would some day scoop me up and carry me into a bedroom and fill me with the same kind of pleasure I was now creating on my own.
“Let me feel your meat inside me, Charlie. Please,” I begged to my imaginary lover.
Immediately, I sensed my legs being pushed apart. There was now no weight on top of me anywhere. I felt the strong arms pull away from my hands. I let out a light whimper, but then brought my hands to my own chest. I found my own hardened nipples and began to squeeze them mercilessly. Huge hands gripped around my calves and seemed to lift my legs in the air. The sound of ripping cloth caught me off guard and I couldn’t believe my imagination would let nice boxers be torn from my body. I immediately returned to the manhandling that was happening to my body, restoring it to the intense pleasure that had just been interrupted. The big hands moved down to my thighs, grabbed me tightly, and then lifted higher. My ass was in the air and the strong arms holding my legs spread them apart. My erect cock was pressing against my folded mid section and the tip was poking me underneath my chest. I continued to pinch my hard nipples.
In the midst of all that was happening I became conscious of a firm wet tongue running up and down the inside of my ass crack. “Charlie” pressed the fat tip into my tight hole, intending to use his own saliva as lube for his stiff pole. I cried out in joy each time I imagined his tongue slipping further into my loosening ass opening.
“Yes. Yes. That’s so nice, big guy.” I was getting into this fantasy so much that, for a split second, I thought I might never need a partner again. I forced my mind to return to the preparation that my ass was receiving.
The sensation of a strong wet tongue disappeared, but was suddenly replaced by something larger and much harder. “Charlie” let the tip of his hard cock slide up and down across my open asshole. This caused my sphincter to contract and release each time. I could also feel loads of pre-cum slathering my ass while I began to moan in anticipation. I held my breath as I felt the wide head of his cock push slowly into my now clamped-shut cavity. His steel-like dickhead pressed the sides of my hole apart and I inhaled sharply three times while his thick pole traveled further into me. Suddenly, the mushroom top made it beyond the tight outer-walls of my asshole and the big man paused so I could relish the feeling of something so large inside of me. The muscle man also wanted to give me a chance to breathe and, hopefully, relax before he began to shove his full manhood down my chute. When the slow plowing resumed, my body was ready for it. Each time I thought he was certainly all the way in, I was amazed to find out that there was still more of his cock to slide into me. I began to worry that some of my internal organs were going to have to shift to allow him in fully, but the feeling was so incredible I didn’t care. Finally, I felt my lower back, right above my ass crack, meet his bulging quads and he pressed in a little harder just to give us both more pleasure. I was able to start breathing a little easier and relaxed some, since I knew he had fit his entire hard cock inside me. “Charlie” began to masterfully slide his giant rod in and out of my ass. He was slow and powerful. The room was again filled with heavy grunting that sounded like a bull was preparing to charge. I was again surprised by the creativity of my own jerk-off fantasy.
The motion of the huge rod in my ass became faster as I felt my legs now supported on the two wide shoulders I pictured in my mind. The strong hands I had felt earlier moved to my chest, brushing my hands to the side, and they began to squeeze my pecs together roughly. Drops of sweat started to hit my face, neck, and arms – and I congratulated myself on that nice touch. The feeling of strong hands squeezing my pecs and pinching my nipples, the rocking of the bed and my body each time the huge piece of meat was thrust into my ass, and the intense moans filling the room were too much for my slightly buzzed, intensely turned-on body.
“Oh, fuck, Charlie. I’m going to cum!” I said a little to loudly.
As my cock erupted and my body convulsed – sending streaks of my hot semen all over my chest – I actually worried about waking Robby. I was able to slightly muffle the cries that followed as I pumped more jism out of my throbbing dick. At the same time I felt warm fluids seemingly being released into my ass – and it felt like a bucket full. The thick rod crammed inside me twitched uncontrollably, pounding into the sides and back of my chute – making me spew even more. My body finally stopped jerking and my heart rate started to subside. I could feel the massive, still-hard piece of meat being pulled from my ass. I gasped a little when the tip popped from my hole. My legs were lowered back to the bed and I felt the heavy muscled body of my dream-lover come gently back down on me. The weight of “Charlie” helped to quiet my breathing and continue the slowing of my heart. I was fully aware that my exhausted mind and body were falling asleep, and that there was nothing I could do to stop it from happening. Right before I slipped into dreamland, however, I knew there was something I wanted to do. I gathered all of my remaining strength to accomplish the task.
“I really want to know you, Charlie . . . I really want to know you,” I whispered to the emptiness of the room.
Darkness and rest came as soon as the words evaporated into the air.
I heard him whispering before anything else registered in my body. I knew Robby was in bed with me, probably with his face very near mine - and he was either repeating dialogue from a cartoon or quoting something he had learned at Miss Emma’s daycare center. After I became aware that he was in the bed with me, I suddenly noticed a few other things – mainly that my ass ached. It ached a lot. The thrill of last night’s beat-off session came flashing back into my head. I could not believe that my ass hurt this much. I was sure it was because it had remained so tense during my excursion into fantasy sex-land. I moved a little and was shocked because I sensed pain in my ass that was not related to being too tense. It had been many years since I had been plowed by a man’s cock, but not so many that I didn’t remember the “morning after” soreness. I chalked it up to the fantastic job I did at imagining “Charlie” inside of me. That’s when I also registered that my body was sore in many other places – my sides, my chest, and my legs. All of this soreness was definitely something I remembered joyously as the post-awesome-sex screaming of my limbs, but I was just amazed that I could cause it all by myself. Well, it wasn’t exactly all by myself – it was with “Charlie,” well the picture of my fantasy Charlie. Just thinking about that magazine picture made my body shiver again. Oh shit, I thought, the magazines are beside the bed. I forced myself to not jump up and grab them. That would certainly make Robby think they were something bad. I started to think of a way to get him out of the room quickly, but I realized it was useless - he usually loved to lie in bed for a few minutes to have a morning chat. He would see through any attempt to move us along too quickly. His whispering caused me to refocus on what was happening in the room.
“Yeah, I’ll tell him, Charlie . . . Yeah, me, too,” said Robby softly.
“What numbers are on the clock, Robby?” I asked, interrupting his one-person conversation.
I felt his little body lift off of the bed and lean across my chest and stomach to look at the digital alarm clock on the table beside me. He obviously stared for a while and I could tell he was making sure he read them correctly and in the right order. We had been working on what it means to start on the left side when reading.
“Six, two, four,” he said proudly. I was very happy because that meant we had lots of time before we had to start getting ready to leave.
“Good job, Captain,” I replied.
“What’s this stuff all over your shirt?” he asked poking at my chest.
My eyes flew open. He didn’t notice because he was looking down. I raised my head off the pillow and saw dried cum streaks up and down the front of my shirt. My mind started racing, attempting to think of something to say. How to explain this to a five year old, that was the problem. I always wanted to be as honest with my son as possible, but I knew this was not the right time to explain ejaculation.
“I think it’s paint,” I said and closed my eyes again, feeling guilty about the lie already. I dropped my head back on the pillow and attempted to push my embarrassment away.
“It’s ugly. What were you painting?” Robby asked innocently. I felt my stomach tighten as I began to formulate my next lie.
“Nothing, I think it’s been on there for a while. You know – old paint,” I said, squeezing my eyes tighter, as if that would make the conversation go away.
“Why is there paint on your neck?” Robby persisted.
My hand flew up to my neck and I felt globs of dried semen there. I rubbed it off with my palm and it actually hurt a little when it peeled away from my skin. I needed to end this conversation quickly and I knew just the way.
“I guess it came off my shirt, but that’s not what worries me right now. You know what worries me, Captain?” I said looking at my son and smiling. I knew Robby completely understood where I was taking the conversation, but he acted like he didn’t. This had been part of our morning routine for years.
“What, daddy?” he asked in a high-pitched voice because he was already dreading my answer.
“I’m worried about the ticklers!” I yelled as I raised my hands and held them up like claws.
Robby screamed loudly and then scrambled off of my body. He quickly covered his little frame under the blanket and yelled “no.” I sat up and grabbed him through the blanked at his waist and tickled him lightly. My son erupted into screams of laughter mixed with “no, daddy” and “stop it,” but I knew he didn’t mean it. He loved it when the ticklers attacked in the morning. There had been a few mornings where I actually got out of bed without tickling him and he sulked until I came back and pulled out the ticklers. I continued to tickle him, even sliding my hands under the covers until I found his shirt, lifted it up, and tickled his bare skin. This caused him to scream and squirm more. I finished by pulling the blanket off of his body and bringing my mouth to his bare stomach, giving him a loud, wet raspberry. This was definitely his favorite part and his arms and legs flailed around uncontrollably. I stopped with a big kiss and then sat up. He quickly sat up at the same time. It was then, and only then, that I realized I wasn’t wearing any underwear. We both looked at my crotch, my flaccid cock nestled between my legs. I was flabbergasted. It’s not that Robby had never seen me nude, I made sure we talked logically about our bodies and with no shame, but I always had boxers or shorts on when he came to my bed. I, again, searched for a way to make this not awkward or seem in any way shameful.
“Where are my boxers?” I said raising my hands in a humorous ‘what’s going on’ pose.
“There on the floor,” Robby said, laughing, and then added, “all ripped up!”
His words made me spin around quickly and look to the side of the bed. There, in the middle of the magazines, were my plaid boxers – torn into three pieces. I stared at the floor in disbelief. I couldn’t think of what to do or what to say. I reached down, absent-mindedly, and pulled the covers over the lower part of my body. I continued to look at the underwear. There was no possible way. The only logical explanation was that I had torn them off of my body during my little sex-capade last night. I turned back toward my son, but didn’t say a word. He was just staring at me, silently. Suddenly, a big smile crept across his face.
“Charlie said he had a good time sleeping with you,” Robby blurted out, as if he had been keeping a secret. He finished the sentence with a big laugh. I’m sure the laugh was innocent, but I didn’t know what he meant by it. His comment made me forget everything and become his dad again. I was a tad confused by his remark and I wanted to make sure he was clear about what he meant.
“What do you mean, Robby?” I asked, a little too seriously, because my son immediately stopped laughing and looked at me with a sullen face.
“He just said he had a good time and he told me to say you were very good,” he explained.
My mouth fell open and my eyes must have gone very wide. I was so incredibly confused by everything at that moment – what my son was saying, how my underwear got shredded, and how this imaginary friend was causing so much trouble. I made myself smile, even in the midst of the confusion, to help my son not feel like he was in trouble.
“Did Charlie mean you were a good boy, daddy? Like when Miss Emma tells you I was good?” Robby asked, looking at me as if he was hoping he got an answer right.
“Yes! Yes, that’s it Robby. That’s exactly what Charlie meant. I was a good boy. I behaved very well. I said yes sir and no sir and did what I was asked,” I said laying my hand on my son’s head. All of the sudden his comments made sense. His imaginary friend had given him a good report about his dad. My mind was suddenly at ease. There was nothing naughty behind what my son was saying. He was affirming me. I messed up his hair and then pushed him back on the bed. He laughed again and everything between us was back in perfect balance.
“I’m hungry!” he exclaimed from his prone position on the mattress.
Yes! This was the out that I needed – to clean up the mess I had obviously made last night. I grabbed his legs and pulled him to me.
“You’re always hungry! I have an idea, Captain. How about you go downstairs and pull out the cereal box. I’ll be right there. How’s that?” I asked.
“Okay,” he replied squirming out of my grasp and quickly sliding off the bed.
“Did you already pee, Robby?” I asked, knowing he probably was still holding liquids in his body – even through all the tickling, which completely astounded me.
“Yes, sir,” he yelled as he ran from the room.
“You better be telling me the truth, mister,” I yelled back as I quickly got out of bed, grabbed all of the magazines – making sure to steal a quick glance at my fantasy “Charlie” – and then headed to hide them in the closet. After stashing the magazines, I grabbed the three pieces of my torn boxers and took them to the trash. I noticed they were three clean rips – and I knew I must have pulled very hard to make it tear that way. I was kind of proud of my work. I grabbed a pair of shorts from the dresser, slipped them on, and headed downstairs – stopping to pee myself and noticing that Robby had told the truth about going this morning. He, of course, had forgotten to flush, though.
We ate breakfast like we always did, Robby watching thirty minutes of his hour-a-day worth of cartoons and me reading most of the paper. The rule was that when we got home I could not return to the paper – I had to spend quality time with my son. He could only watch thirty more minutes of cartoons. He didn’t know I usually read more of the paper after he went to sleep, but the main thing was that I didn’t do it when we could spend time playing. I was amazed at how easily he got ready to go to Miss Emma’s this morning – usually it was an uphill battle to get him dressed and out the door. I decided it was because he had missed her and his friends, because of our free day at the park. He loved Miss Emma, even calling her one of his favorite angels. I always thought that was such a neat idea – that I dropped my son off with an angel each day. No matter what, I was just very happy that he enjoyed going to day care. It made my life so much easier.
We were finally in the car and pulling out of the garage even a little earlier than usual, which wasn’t hard to do since we always ran late. It seemed that Robby was always looking for the one thing he couldn’t live without that day, and usually only that item had be misplaced. Today, however, his things were placed neatly on the table beside the door to the garage and I was very impressed. When I asked what had gotten into him and why he had organized everything before leaving, he told me Charlie had put the stuff there. In my head I thanked Charlie greatly for what he had been able to accomplish in my son in just a few days. I had not succeeded as much in five years!
Pulling out of the garage was always a difficult task. There was a stupid tree right at the edge of the turn-around space that had been created at the edge of the middle of the driveway. You could back out straight into the street, but curves in the road made it very dangerous. I always liked to be the first one in the car to move out into the road, hoping my son would be safe if, heaven forbid, there was an accident. I wasn’t paying close attention this morning, probably because I was so surprised we were leaving early, and my bumper lightly scraped the trunk of the tree and then wedged into it.
“Crap,” I said, having given up on swearing once Robby was at an age where he thought it was fun to repeat things. My son laughed at me from the back seat. This made me a little frustrated, but I wouldn’t let it cause me to take it out on him. I looked in the rearview mirror and made a crazy face, asking, “What’s so funny, Captain?”
“Charlie says you’re a crazy driver,” Robby said laughing again.
“Oh yeah? Well, you tell your friend Charlie that I’d like to see if he could do better job. That stupid tree is always in the way. As a matter of fact, why don’t you tell your big friend, Charlie, to get rid of that tree for me.” I said all of this as light as possible, as I tried to figure out how to pull forward without the side of the bumper scraping the same way it had as I backed up.
“Wait, dad. Charlie’s gonna help,” Robby said as he played with some action figure in his hands. He wasn’t even looking at me.
Suddenly the back of the car went up and then bounced back down on the ground. It wasn’t very dramatic, but it was noticeable. I immediately put the car in park. I had not taken my foot off the brake. What had made the car move? I could not believe there might be a problem with my brand new hybrid SUV. I pulled on the parking break, undid my seatbelt, and opened my door.
“I don’t know what just happened, Robby, but I’m going to go take a look. I’ll be right back. Sit tight, okay Captain?” I said looking back at him.
“Sure, dad. It was just Charlie helping,” he said, not even looking up at me.
I chuckled at my son and got out of the car. I walked around the front of the car and then moved toward the back, waving to Robby as I passed his window – but he still wasn’t looking. He was intently playing with some crazy looking superhero or something. When I got to the back of the car I noticed that the bumper was now about a foot away from the tree. I couldn’t believe it. I could clearly see the scrapes on both the tree trunk and the bumper of the car, showing that I had gotten too close, but I would now be able to pull away easily. I stood there trying to figure out what had happened. I then realized the tire was now a little off the back edge of the asphalt driveway. I figured the car had shifted because it went off the edge – making it move away from the tree. That seemed logical, but something else caught my eye that didn’t make sense. On the top of the metal part of the bumper, near the edge, there was small dent the size of a big thumb or something. How in the heck did that get there, I thought. I looked at the tree to see if there had been a branch or something else that caused the indention, but there was nothing. The car wasn’t even a month old. I had not noticed that dent before. It must have happened at work, because it was the only other place I parked beside my garage. I made a mental note to get both the dent and the scrape fixed in the near future. I was definitely a guy that was car obsessed. I wanted it always spotless and blemish-less. I walked back around and got in the car.
“Charlie fixed it, right?” Robby asked.
I smiled at my son’s face in the rearview mirror. It was so nice of my son to always have his imaginary friend fix things for me. I had a feeling, though; it was going to get old pretty soon. For now, however, it was great to think there was someone looking out for us.
“Yeah, he did a fine job,” I said a little sarcastically, but that was lost on Robby – thank goodness.
“He’s gonna take care of the tree for ya,” Robby said turning back to his toy.
“That will be great,” I said, smiling to myself, as we pulled onto the street, heading for Miss Emma’s.
After dropping Robby off at day care I remembered to get Margaret that pastry she loved. I needed to say thank you for the fact that she might have covered for me in some way since I took the day off. It turned out that the day had been extremely quiet and she was very happy I wasn’t there; because it gave her time to catch up on a lot of work I had been keeping her from. She told me that the pastry had not been necessary, but I saw the happiness hidden in her face. I ended up having a meeting near home that afternoon, so I told Margaret that I’d just call it a day after the meeting. I didn’t want to face traffic back to the office and then turn around an hour later to go get Robby. I thought it would be a great chance to do a little cleaning, since the housekeeper was coming on Monday. Margaret always laughed when I told her I straightened things before it was cleaned professionally. I told her I didn’t want people to think I was untidy. She would always tell me that since I had a five year old, I had the right to have an untidy house.
That afternoon, when I pulled into my driveway, I noticed the difference right away. The stupid tree was gone. Well, it wasn’t really gone; it was stacked in pieces near the end of the driveway - some were large and some were small. I didn’t pull into the garage. I stopped the car in the middle of the driveway and got out to look at the hole that now existed where the tree used to be. It was amazing. It looked like something had yanked the tree straight out of the ground and not the usual way - by cutting the thing down and then pulling the stump out with a chain. It was a pretty clean hole and a lot of the lose dirt had fallen back into it, sort of filling the empty space. I knew immediately that Mr. Johnson, next door, had done it. He hated the tree as much as I did since it was so close to wires that ran to his house and he had always worried a big storm might someday bring everything down. We had talked a lot about getting rid of it, but I couldn’t believe he had taken the initiative to make it happen. I wasn’t mad - I was just surprised. I would have to pay him for it. I knew he was having some work done to his place, so there must have been a crane there that pulled the tree out of the ground. I walked down to take a look at the pieces of the tree stacked by the road. I was amazed to see that they weren’t cleanly cut, like by a chain saw. It looked like something had snapped the trunk into pieces, since the breaks were like splinters – as if they had been simply ripped apart. No matter what it looked like or who had done it, I was just happy the tree was gone. I would fill the hole this weekend and put a sign on the wood that it was free to be taken. I knew it would disappear before Monday came. I went inside, a little more excited about cleaning, since the main job in my yard had already been taken care of. That evening, when I pulled into the driveway, I didn’t say anything to Robby about the tree, because I wanted to see if he noticed. When he didn’t say a word, I stopped the car, again in the middle of the driveway, and turned in the seat to look at him.
“Notice anything, Captain?” I asked.
“Yeah, tree’s gone,” he said matter-of-factly, as if he had expected it to be gone.
“I know, isn’t that fantastic?” I said excitedly. “Mr. Johnson must have had it pulled out.”
“No, Charlie did it,” Robby said with a sigh and it sounded like he was amazed that I didn’t remember that from this morning. I looked at him and I could tell he saw my amazement at his lack of surprise. “He said he was gonna fix it for ya.”
“Well, that was very nice of whoever it was that did it,” I said, not wanting to ruin the great feeling that came from having the tree gone. I was beginning to really worry about Robby’s fixation with Charlie. I decided that I would call his doctor tomorrow. For a second I wondered if a change in diet might help get rid of the imaginary friend, but I knew that was stupid. It then hit me that we didn’t have anything to fix for dinner. “Oh, Robby, I forgot to pick something up at the store for dinner. Can we run to the market really fast?”
“Yippee!” Robby yelled and, as usual, threw his hands in the air.
This was not the response that I expected. Robby usually hated going to the store. I quickly turned the car around in the newly improved driveway, hoping his enthusiasm would last for the entire trip. I started making a short grocery list in my head as I waited for traffic to let me pull out.
“What do you want for dinner?” I asked.
“Vegeetubles,” he said and this caused me to glance at him in the mirror. He was looking to the empty space in the seat beside him and was nodding, as if he was agreeing with someone. I still did not believe he was starting to eat vegetables. No matter what I thought of his imaginary friend, I was very excited that this change had happened.
Upon entering the store I noticed that it wasn’t very crowded, so I allowed Robby to push one of the children’s carts that were provided. I prayed to God that he wouldn’t hit some display, sending cans all over the floor, or worse, some elderly woman. He did very well and followed me closely, only putting items in his cart that were approved. When we got to the fruits and vegetables section I immediately noticed a huge guy wearing a tight black t-shirt and jeans. I swear I was a huge magnet when it came to big guys seemingly made of steel The guy was obviously a professional bodybuilder or something, because he had muscles on top of muscles. He was dreamy and yummy all rolled into one. I kept glancing from the huge guy back to Robby – making sure my son didn’t see me going ga-ga over the big man. At one point I noticed that Mr. Muscles looked directly at me and smiled, in a way that made my toes curl. Oh damn, he caught me looking at him, I thought. I’m sure my face flushed red. I glanced away, down at my son, who was trying to choose the perfect box of raisins from a row of about fifteen. When I glanced back up the bodybuilder was now standing across the wide stand between us that held a bunch of different fruits. He was looking directly at me and had a big smile across his face. God, the man was huge. I’m sure he was about six foot four and it seemed like he was the same length from shoulder to shoulder. He had dark semi-long black hair and olive skin. The guy looked like some Italian muscled statue and he stared at me as if he knew me.
“Hello,” the perfect man said in a perfect bass voice. Everything about him exuded manliness.
“Hi,” I said sheepishly, but I also felt very bold, somehow. “I’m Marshall.” Before he could say anything a crazy thought came into my mind and I blurted out, “Your name isn’t Charlie, is it?”
“No, I’m afraid not,” said the giant man in front of me and my heart sank a little. His smile seemed to grow when he added, “It’s Charles.”
“Some people call you Charlie,” Robby said, having stood up and stepped back from the fruit stand a little – far enough to see the big guy on the other side. Of course a person would have had to be incredibly small to miss the huge Charles.
“Hey Robby! How are you?” Charles said to my son, obviously in a way that meant they knew each other. “Yes, that’s true; some people do call me Charlie. So, this is your super-dad that I’ve heard so much about.”
My mouth dropped open and I was speechless for a few seconds – for so many reasons, the size of the guy, the fact that his bulging muscles seemed to ripple even when he was just speaking, and the fact that he knew my son. My lips went up and down a few times, but no sound came out. Finally, I regained some composure.
“You two know each other?” I said looking at Charles and then down at Robby.
“He’s Miss Emma’s brother,” Robby said smiling. I turned back to the big guy.
“It’s true,” he said and then he extended one of his long, thick arms across the piles of fruit.
I reached up and shook his hand. My knees actually knocked together when his big, strong hand engulfed my palm. Charles kept holding on even after we stopped shaking and I tried to pull away. It seemed like he was enjoying the fact that we were touching as much as I was. It was like he was touching another human being for the first time.
“I really have heard a lot about you, Marshall,” Charles added, finally letting go of my hand and breaking the silence that had surrounded us.
“Umm, I think I’ve heard some things about you,” I replied awkwardly and then quickly added, “I mean, I guess some things I’ve heard are beginning to make sense.”
Charles had an understandably confused look on his face. I had no idea how to explain that my son had created an imaginary friend completely based on him – in every detail: hair, muscles, smile, huge frame, and so much more. For a split second I allowed myself to acknowledge that the Charles standing in front of me was a hundred times better than the Charlie of my sexual fantasy last night. I opened my mouth to try and explain, but I was conveniently interrupted.
“Charlie! Come to our house for food,” Robby said cheerfully.
I was instantly embarrassed. I looked at the big man and held up a finger, signifying I needed just a quick second with my son. I bent down so my face was even with Robby’s.
“Robby, that’s not polite. I’m sure Charles has plans and we don’t want to put him on the spot that way. It’s usually polite to ask a person to dinner a few nights later, so they can plan for it,” I said all of this patiently and in a way that did not make Robby feel reprimanded. I wanted to make sure my son learned lessons, but in a positive way.
“Actually, Marshall, I’d love to,” Charles said and both Robby and I turned to face him. I looked back to my son and he smiled at me triumphantly.
“Well, that’s great. Yep, that’s really great,” I said, standing back up to face the man that came closer than any other human in the world to matching my fantasies. I suddenly felt very weird and nervous, knowing he would be at our house – this man whose smile made my dick twitch uncontrollably. I said the first thing that came into my head to avoid another moment of drooling silence. “We’re having vegetables.”
“I hear they make you big and strong,” Charles said and I saw him wink at Robby.
“So I’ve heard, as well,” I added and Robby laughed. “I think I’ll make some spaghetti, as well.”
“Yippee!” cheered Robby, throwing his hands in the air.
“Yippee!” echoed Charles and he, also, put his big beefy arms in the air. This caused me to become slightly dizzy – gazing at his muscled limbs stretched in the air. The biceps and triceps were perfectly formed and bulging magnificently. I did the only thing I could think of to prevent myself from falling to the floor from faint. I, too, threw my hands in the air.
“Yippee,” I said weakly and it was quite obvious I was having trouble getting air into my lungs. I guess it is true, what they say, that there are people in the world that can actually take your breath away.