Angel: A Sequel 7 (musc)
(Author's note: please refer to important background in Parts I-VI)
As he did when he got into my little car to get to the gym, Grant squeezed his massive and bulging body into my front seat, yet again. It was comical. His huge and striated legs were almost pressed against his already protruding pecs. His incredibly wide shoulders had his left shoulder jamming into mine. I didn't mind that at all. He looked at me and gave me a cute knowing smile. He saw the absurdity, too.
I thought that all it would take for him to rip himself through the roof and side door was to take in a big breadth and expand his extreme muscle mass to its max. "Yeah, that would be a feat of strength I bet you'd love to see. Unfortunately, you'd loose your car to the junk heap if I did that for you," he said, chuckling to himself.
"Yeah, but I'd love to see you do that feat of strength and, especially, feel all your muscles get as hard as a warm granite rocks," I said with lust dripping from every word. "Well, my dear Paul, we have lots of time to think up more ways for me to perform incomprehensible feats of strength for your viewing and muscle worshipping pleasure," he added confidently.
I exclaimed, "Hell, you blew my mind and the minds of those muscle-worshippers at the gym with your astounding strength just in the gym. And, god knows, they appreciate really stacked strong men and they certainly showed how they appreciated you. Did you see how excited they all got when you said we'd be back for some more workouts? Jeez, they really were like enthusiastic kindergarten kids, only with very big muscles themselves and some great lookin' cocks."
"Hey, I actually don't know if you need to eat…I mean ever, Grant. Boy, I sure could use some dinner. How about if we stop at the Coney Island up the road and get something to eat?" I inquired. "Yeah, I eat. You're right. I don't have to, but I know I'm expected to. That Coney Island sounds fine," Grant announced.
I immediately did an "oh shit" in my head wondering how the customers would react to Grant. The dry clothes that the manager gave us both fit me ok, but on Grant, that was something else. His short sleeved shirt was way too small. Even his relaxed bulging biceps, veins and all, looked like they would burst the sleeve apart at the smallest movement of his arm. It was very sexy, of course. The shirt could only be buttoned from the bottom three buttons and below. His naturally protruding pec shelf, covered in light hair, is such a lust-trigger for me.
For instance, his slightly hairy and relaxed chest was just too huge and way too over-hung with a shelf of pec meat for any buttons to close. It was spread so wide that you could almost see his wide areolas and finger-thick nipples. Again, Grant is one hell of a sex object. And the short shorts. His crevassed and veined quads and its layers of thick muscle kept pushing the bottom of his shorts up to the top of his thighs. And, of course, his huge package was dead center and pushing the zipper cover so wide that it was noticeably losing the war to keep his massive equipment contained.
"Got it, my friend. I hear you. Yeah, guess I am a little underdressed for dinner. Since this is a resort town, I'll certainly cause a stir in folks but I doubt we'll be arrested or anything like that. Or, tell me the truth, do you like the idea of being with me like this? I think I know the answer…but thought I'd ask anyways," he inquired. He brought his monster left arm up and around and wrapped it completely around my shoulders, his big hand coming down easily and completely wrapping my very modest bicep. He gave me a gentle but noticeable squeeze. Oh fuck. I was in heaven.
"No, Grant, I've given up worrying about people's reaction to you…and me. You just have a great way of exuding such warm and attractive vibes….people become very deferential to you…and not just because of your size and extreme good-looks. You won over those cynical hard-assed muscle guys at the gym in no time at all. I bet you'll do that with the Coney Island customers and servers, too. No, I'm thrilled to be with you and you with me," I announced authoritatively.
My right hand left the steering wheel and went digging around the unending hard contours of his massive package. At the moment I thought I had made his cock hard…or, more precisely, when he let me make him hard, and push his humungous cock up to his waist line, we arrived in the parking lot of the restaurant. "There's more for you later, good buddy," he announced with a leer and another squeeze of my shoulders.
At the Coney Island
The staring and stunned gawking from everyone – men, women, young or old – began immediately when we got out of the car. Grant was carrying himself – just naturally for him – with great presence and confidence – his extreme height is breathtaking. I watched as damn near everyone stopped in their tracks – coming in or out of the restaurant – to see this behemoth of an extraordinarily built and handsome male.
One young kid couldn't resist. He enthusiastically ran over to Grant. He got up real close and looked way up, and asked Grant if he was a circus strongman. Grant got a big smile on his face, leaned down, looked at the kid's shocked parents, and he picked up the kid in his right hand and lifted him up to his face. The kid squealed in glee and said, "I knew you were a strongman. I could tell." "What's your name?" Grant asked the kid. "Harry. What is yours Mr. Strongman?" he asked back. "Grant," Grant responded. "Will I see you at the circus Mr. Grant Strongman?" the kid asked. "I'm not sure, Harry. But it's good to see you here," commented Grant. "Wow, you are really big Mr. Grant Strongman. My dad is really strong, too," the kid said very proudly…looking over at his father.
I looked at his Dad who was beet red (and also a good-looking male specimen in his own right) -- probably in both embarrassment and pride. Nothing like receiving your son's very public hero-worship in front of another strongman. Grant gently put the kid down and the kid ran hollering to his parents about how he'd been lifted by a real circus strongman. The parents smiled back at Grant, though clearly mystified at Grant's size.
The noisy restaurant started to quiet down as we walked to a booth, way the other side of the restaurant. The attractive waiter was slender but built. He was clearly both very excited and very nervous about escorting us. My gaydar, though not usually in good working order, went off with this guy. But, then, as I've discovered, most men are just enthralled with being up so close to Grant.
Jeez, I've never seen so many people stop and stare so unapologetically in my life. Some would look away and then look back, look away, and again, look back. They couldn't keep their eyes off of him. I'm sure the fact that we were together and that I was so vastly smaller in size, had a lot of folks confused or speculating god knows what. I just smiled politely; following Grants tightly wrapped big ass butt and the cute ass of the nervous waiter. Other than the gym, this was our first voyage into the general public. It was gonna be memorable, I could tell. I was also amazed at my own reaction in being in public with Grant. I felt tall, confident, secure, and proud. These were new feelings for me. I was very grateful.
Once at a booth, and before we sat, the waiter's eyes slowly moved up and down, and side to side, taking in all of Grant's huge frame. He said, " Sir, I hope our booths are…. big enough for…. you. I've picked one so you can have more room for ….your….legs." "No problem. What's your name?" asked Grant with that incredibly warm and charming smile of his. "Evan, sir." "Well, Evan, thanks for taking such good care of my partner and me. I'm sure this booth will work out just fine," Grant observed nonchalantly.
I was instantly touched and moved that Grant would, once again, in public, call me his partner. Fuck, I was so in love. I was truly feeling beside myself with happiness. Grant squeezed himself into one side of the booth. I put myself into the other side. However, the thought occurred to me that I'd love to sit next to Grant. On second thought, there would not have been enough room for the both of us.
"Yep. You guessed that right my good buddy. We can cuddle up when we get home….hopefully sooner than later," Grant said softly. Little did we know how the evening would yet unfold. It still unnerves me that he is always reading my mind. Evan decided he would be our waiter and had a bunch of questions about what needed to get started. I could tell he really was absolutely enthralled by being around Grant.
I just started to stare at Grant myself. He knew that and just gave me back his trademark grin. God, he is so handsome and so fuckin' sexy. I just kept roving my eyes around his head and face. His gorgeous wavy jet black hair looked like he had just had it cut…perfectly balanced. His ears. Damn. How could ears be so sexy? They stood out just enough from the side of his head to make a statement of "we're important too." They sure are. Then his beautiful, sparkling and glistening blue eyes. Perfectly trimmed and bushy eye brows framed his liquid eyes. Truly, I knew what it was like to get lost in a man's eyes.
The light beard stubble on the sides of his face and chin continued to give him an even stronger aura of hyper-masculinity and strength. Like so many gods, he, too, had a vertical cleft in his chin that made him "Hollywood handsome." His lips were big, not too pouty, and a deep red. I remembered how profound it was to have kissed him earlier this morning and feel those moist strong lips on mine.
In this quiet moment together, even in public, I once again marveled at his towering and massive traps, rising up to nearly the top of his neck, and slowly tapering down to his explosive set of front and back delts. The t-shirt was so thin and tight that it just looked like another tight skin. Then his unheard of relaxed arms…each the size of two footballs mashed together. Then his forearms, covered in light hair, veins, tendons, and crevasses, extended out – as he crossed them and uncrossed them for my lustful pleasure. Damn, that was an act of sex all by itself.
His big hands…fingers covered in small tuffs of black hair…very thick and long fingers. I remembered what they had done surrounding and squeezing my cock earlier in the morning. "Yeah, I know, you like what you see. I want you to know that I really like what I see in you, too," he said, once again, softly. I had a hard time telling myself this was not a muscleman, muscle-worshipping wet dream…definitely not another internet short story of fantasy…though I loved those, too.
We didn't need to talk too much. We just seemed to relish being in each other's quiet company after the extravaganza of muscle-worshipping passion, muscle addicts, and sex at the gym. Yet, it was far from quiet. I couldn't believe how people started coming up to us, introducing themselves. A few were jerks and only wanted to talk with Grant. He made short order of them. Some girls asked to feel his bicep and he obliged with a big flex and smile. They giggled like no tomorrow. A couple of guys wanted to know if he was a trainer and where he worked out. We told them about the gym we had just been at. They gave us their phone number and promised to meet us there, soon. Both were body-builders and dumbstruck at Grant's size and virility. They had a hard time leaving us.
Evan was ever attentive with questions about if our food and service was satisfactory. I knew he had more questions, but he was just too embarrassed or intimidated – at least for the moment. I noticed his cock was hanging on the inside of his left leg. I wondered how hard it was getting. We ate and continued to gracefully manage all the gawking, interruptions, questions, and requests for a flex. This was ok for the moment. Yet, I could see it also getting old. Something to think about.
Grant was just incredibly consistently charming, pleasant, and encouraging. As I saw with the muscleheads at the gym, people just felt drawn to him and his special exceedingly masculine energy. I was very proud. At one point, just as a reminder to me, he put one of his monster legs in-between my legs and I squeezed as hard as I could to let him know I knew he knew I was there. He loved that.
Cute little Evan finally brought over the check. Again, asking more questions to make sure the food and his service was satisfactory. Which, of course, it was. Grant was reading him like a book. "Hey Evan. Looks like you workout," Grant observed. Evan nodded affirmatively yet silently. He stood up straighter and thrust his chest out. "Maybe you'd like to meet up with me and Paul sometime and we could workout together. I'd be happy to show you some of the tips that have helped me get this big and muscular. Maybe we could jump start your workouts to the next level for you. You interested?" asked Grant knowingly. Evan's face turned red and gave us a huge grin.
"Oh yeah…I'd be honored to work workout with you guys. It is really such an inspiration to have you even here and be able to wait on you," Evan exclaimed. "Write down your name and phone number and one of us will give you a ring sometime in the next week or so, ok?" suggested Grant. "Oh thank you, both of you. You've just made my week," added Evan. He paused and seemed deep in thought. Then the truth came out.
"I'm a little nervous but I'd love to feel your amazing bicep, Grant," he asked apologetically. "Well everyone else has so here you go," Grant announced. He gave him one hell of a peaked double-bicep. All of a sudden, Evan got very uninhibited and inspired. He was not the least bit embarrassed about leaning into the booth with both his hands and feeling both biceps all over, passionately. We left him a big tip. And he had one hell of a big grin. God, I bet he had cock-pounding jack-off fantasies for weeks. I sure would have.
A Potential Tragedy Barely Averted
As we walked back through the restaurant to the front door, the gawking continued. I laughed because Grant took the walk more slowly this time…letting his magnificent hyper-masculine presence and massive body sink into each on-looker. Shit, he can be such a fabulous show-off when he wants to. I could only begin to imagine the detailed and passionate fantasies he was triggering in both the men and the women. I was surprised we didn't get more folks coming out of their booths to talk to us before they missed the opportunity to connect to us…connect to Grant.
We got in the car and started driving on the toll-road over the bay back to my house. Frankly, I couldn't get there fast enough. I was so horny. I'd been like this all day long, ever since I consumed his one-of-a-kind cum this morning.
Half way over the toll-road, we saw a huge collection of police cars and fire trucks flashing their lights up ahead. Traffic had begun to slow but was not yet stopped. There were still some left lanes open, evidently. As we pulled closer, we were both shocked. A huge tanker truck was flipped on its side and was squashing a yellow school bus against and almost over the bridge guard rail.
Even from a distance, the school bus looked very badly damaged from front to back. We both knew that there were probably kids in that school bus and that it was very close to breaking the guard rail and heading into the deep water. This accident looked like it had just happened.
Instead of following the urgent directions of a very big cop to stop gawking and drive by, Grant told me to pull over and park the car. I did just that. The cop was furious. Yet, when Grant got out of the car and started running to the accident, the cop seemed so shocked at seeing Grant that he turned to the other cars, passionately motioning them to keep moving. I got out of the car and began to follow Grant as fast as I could. But his running speed, no surprise, was exceptional.
I was so stunned at seeing the awful accident and the extreme risk these kids were in, that it didn't occur to me what, if anything, Grant could or would do. I didn't have to wait long. He ignored all the cops and firemen. They kept hollering and screaming at him to get out of there. Yet, there was nothing they could do to stop this monster of a man. I was close enough so I could see Grant, but far enough back so I wasn't told to leave. Thank god. The tanker was leaking but that wasn't stopping the almost futile efforts of the cops and firemen to get into the school bus and pull the kids out. That's when Grant made his move.
He effortlessly wedged his hugely muscled body in-between the severely dented tanker and the crushed driver's side of the school bus. I was sure he was pushing back and easily bending metal on the tanker and the bus with his body to get into the middle of the wreck. He pounded his fists and forearms into the metal of both the tanker and bus to help clear his path. He continuously thru his massive shoulders into both sets of metal, as well. He was making huge dents into all the metal. It was collapsing from the unbelievable pressure from his extremely powerful body. There was no stopping this superman.
I was a little ashamed at myself for having such a hard time focusing on the kids, yet still thinking about Grant's inhuman strength. My concern for the kids won out. Grant was putting himself to the test…a test he was called to…a test that had to succeed. The lives of an unknown number of kids depended upon him, his in-human strength, and his exceptionally powerful muscles.
The accident had just happened so no ambulances were in sight, though I was sure they were among the sirens I was hearing get closer. It was horrifying to think they might be too late. The cops and firemen seemed helpless to get into the bus from either the front end or the back end. The guard rail and tanker had just demolished access from doors or even windows.
I moved around to look between the bus and tanker and saw Grant raise his huge arms and start to push on the middle of the tanker. His already huge body was becoming a mass of pumped-up muscles pitted against hardened steel. With each powerful push, the tanker moved up off the bus just a little bit. Grant repositioned his arms and body each time, giving the tanker another punishing push, yet holding it steady at the same time. He was huge. His whole body was a stunning mass of exploding muscles. There was no strongman on earth that could do what Grant was doing…no one.
The cops and firemen looked up and, despite their visible disbelief at seeing Grant do the unthinkable, they redoubled their efforts to get into both ends of the bus. No go. The bus had been sandwiched way too hard between the tanker and the guard rail. It was now teetering because Grant had lifted the tanker from direct contact with the bus.
With one final huge shove – I heard a very deep and loud roar from him -- Grant pushed the tanker into an upright position. He had busted completely out of his flimsy t-shirt. I could tell his shorts were in tatters from the unrelenting expansion of his quads. He truly looked like a white Hulk, though half-naked. I had a vision of him being a very big angel. He quickly turned back to face the side of the bus. With one of his massive arms, he grabbed the side door and just pulled the door off. With the other huge gun, he held onto the bus so it wouldn't slip over the guardrail into very deep water. All of us were stunned at this in-human display of unlimited and spectacular strength. I was hard as hell but I also knew it was okay, despite the very scary circumstances. Grant's testosterone from early this morning just had that kind of effect on me.
With no time to waste given the uncertain medical condition of the kids, Grant pulled the entire bus, this time with both humungous arms, up off the guardrail and onto the safety of the concrete. Cheers went up from all the on-lookers that had stood by helplessly -- thinking the worst might happen. Grant was not done, however. Nobody cared that he barely had any clothes on. All they cared about was that this massive superman was saving the lives of these terrified kids.
Grant muscled the metal door out of his way and went into the mangled and shattered bus. We all knew he or others had to do this. We just didn't know if there would be a fire and explosion -- at a moment's notice. The kids screaming had become louder and louder.
One at a time, with great care, he lifted each kid into his massive arms and maneuvered them through the demolished door. He was so very big. And in his huge arms and chest, the kids seemed so very small and fragile. He quickly ran with each child away from the accident, and laid each child down on the ground.
Inexplicably, he began to give each child very gentle and loving mouth to mouth resuscitation…even if they were conscious. He did this even though the cops and firemen were screaming at him to wait for the ambulances. He held their nostrils closed with one hand, cleared their passage-way with the other, and then placed his huge hairy hand in the middle of each of their chests. Right where their heart was.
Continuing to ignore the screams cops and firemen to wait, he went back into the bus for each child. And, for each child, gave them his own very special brand of care. By the time the first ambulances arrived, he had safely evacuated and given resuscitation to a total of 12 kids…all at an amazing speed. What was left of his t-shirt and shorts were covered in blood. He showed no evidence of being winded or tired. He was simply on a very special mission.
The EMT's, having seen what Grant had been doing with the last couple kids, were extremely angry and berated him for even moving them and giving them aid. They did not know the inhuman feats of strength he had just performed to save their lives from certain death. He calmly listened to their outrage and did not react.
As the medics started triage with each kid, the medics became very confused – talking and conferring excitedly with each other. While many of the kids were covered in their own blood, they did not seem to have any immediate or observable internal or external injuries. The medics kept looking frantically at each kid, checking all vital signs, looking for possible internal injuries, and looking for broken bones. They couldn't believe what they were seeing. Yes, the kids were all very upset, crying, and hollering. Yet, the kids also seemed to be without any injuries. "How could this be possible," the medics started asking themselves, including the cops and the firemen.
The cops and firemen pointed to the hulking bloodied figure of a half-naked Grant standing patiently nearby. They excitedly told the medics how Grant had single-handedly lifted the tanker off the bus and ripped open the bus metal door. They told them how he went in and pulled each child out and gave each resuscitation, holding his hand over each of their hearts as he breathed into them. The medics were in complete disbelief. Yet, they knew these cops and firemen would not and could not make up such an extreme story, given the crisis at hand.
Grant was still just standing tall and quiet. Soon, the medics, cops and firemen started to gather all around him. He stood head and shoulders above them all…both literally and figuratively. They couldn't stop asking him angry questions about this extraordinary rescue, his inhuman strength, and the medical miracles he seemed to have accomplished with his breath and hands.
The really big cop I saw earlier was up close, along with another very big cop next to him. Both looked like their blues were painted on their either super heavy-weight body-building bodies or powerlifter bodies – I couldn't tell which. Muscle-cops. Definitely muscle-cops. I never miss musclemen…never…no matter what the situation. I couldn't help feeling a stirring in my pants, despite the crisis. Damn, these were really hot muscle-cops….in short sleeves, no less. And their huge arms were pointing and gesturing towards Grant and the wrecks of the tanker and bus. OMG I thought to myself.
Grant was very patient with all of them. He kept repeating phrases like: "Yes, in a way, my strength is in-human…I'm grateful for it. And very glad I could help here." "I know I have healing powers and I used them on these kids." "I don't expect you to understand all of this." "My partner and I live over in the next town." "I'm just glad I was here in time." "The cops and firemen worked very hard at great risk to themselves to get the kids out. It was an honor to help them out." "Yes, all of this was, indeed, a miracle. And we know where miracles come from don't we?" That last comment and question only stopped their barrage of questions temporarily.
They just couldn't stop firing questions at him. Finally, they all began to tell him how very grateful they were that he did what he did…that he risked himself the way he did…that he understood more than they did what it was going to take to make sure these kids were safe and well. They softened. I was now up close to the group. I think I saw Grant start to tear up. Some of the professionals were tearing up as well. A true tragic catastrophe had been averted because of who Grant is. I was in tears myself. I was also so proud of Grant…so very proud and grateful.
One of the EMTs came up with a blanket and wrapped it around Grant's shoulders…at least as high as he could get. Grant readjusted it and told him thank you. The EMT said it would help keep the blood off whatever car he was riding in. "I've never seen guy with so many huge muscles like you. You are an unbelievable sight. Thank god you were here today and could use them like you did. Though I just don't understand how you could move the tanker and tear open the bus like that." The EMT was a combination of deep appreciation and total confusion. "As I said, I was just glad I was here and could help," said Grant modestly.
After handshakes, "thank yous", and manly shoulder pats all around (Grant got a hell of a lot of long pats on his shoulders and arms), Grant and I walked over to my car. Once again, cheers emerged from the crowd. Grant stopped, turned around, and gave a big salute. More cheers. Clearly, he was the epitome of a hero in everyone's eyes. An unforgettable, huge and extremely handsome hero…covered in the blood of his heroic exploits.
We were quiet the rest of way home. I drove with my left hand as we held hands with our fingers tightly intertwined. I kept thinking that rarely have I read muscle-god muscle-worshipping fiction where the muscle god also saved lives…especially the lives of children. Grant, of course, "heard" me. He remarked, "Paul, I am simply made to love and do good things and be with good people. I am so glad to be able to share it all with you." Tears came to my eyes once again. I couldn't get my mind around the unheard of feats of strength – bending, pushing, and pulling hard metal – Grant had just done with his body. God, talk about being a superman. And he is all mine…and I sure don't mind sharing him, either.
Home and Surprising Visitors Arrive
We got Grant out of his bloody clothes….what was left of them…which was barely anything at all. I started to feel his muscles and he started to flex each as I touched and massaged them. I had just seen these huge pumped muscles do things that humans cannot do. These were the same in-human muscles that had bent tanker and bus metal to get him wedged in the middle of the crash. These were the same muscles that relentlessly pushed, pounded, and lifted the multi-ton tanker trailer back on its 18 wheels. These were the same muscles that just ripped open the side door of the bus like he was stripping sheets off a bed. These were the same muscles that ever so gently carried 12 terrified children to their safety and, in fact, helped them heal from internal and other injuries.
As he flexed and re-flexed, and I mauled and massaged, I asked him, "What exactly did you do when you gave the mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and put your hand on their heart?" He kept on flexing then paused. I paused my muscle explorations, as well. "Well, you saw how I was able to give you a bigger penis earlier today in just a few moments. Right? So, I just used my God-given powers to breath the spirit of healing into each of these kids and lay my hand on their heart to speed the healing of their entire body. It really isn't more complicated than that. It's who I am. It is what I do. I'm an instrument, as well all are, each in our own way. My gifts are just more visible than those of most humankind. Isn't this what you've always fantasized for all these years in your muscle gods – in your deepest and wildest dreams?" He knew me well.
"Oh, Grant. I get a little scared hearing that kind of talk from you. Yet, I know in my heart of hearts that you are telling me the truth. I just never thought I'd hear such a wonderful thing from a hyper-masculine, handsome, muscle-god like you. You're breaking the mold of my fantasy stereotypes of muscle-gods like you. And I'm so glad you're doing that with me," I added enthusiastically. He reached around and brought our naked bodies together and squeezed hard. I squeezed back as best I could.
We ended up taking another shower together. God, how I love being his personal wash-cloth as he soaped me up, manhandled me, and rubbed me all over his massive body. I got another great ride on his hard cock…jamming my own hard cock into his steel ab muscles. We both exploded with gushers of cum. I made sure I scraped up as much of his cum off my body as I could. The delicious nectar went straight into my mouth. He seemed to like mine as well.
After drying off, we both got into some loose clothing and lay down on the couch to watch some TV. He held me tightly up in his lap. Actually, I was really sitting on his constantly big thick hard cock. I kept massaging his huge forearms and very sexy hands.
Then the doorbell rang. That is pretty rare in my house. Fortunately, I was sort of dressed.
I opened the wood inner door and damn near fainted from more shock. I was speechless. Standing in front of me were the two very, very big cops that I had seen at the accident. One had black hair and other had blond hair, cut short. Both had their cop caps tucked underneath their huge arms. Both wore the sexiest black opaque shades I had ever seen on guys. My gay eyes darted everywhere very fast.
Both had tufts of hair spilling out from the top of their damn near glued-on tapered blue shirt, with all the police insignia you could imagine. Both were in short sleeves that, like Grant's earlier, looked like they would burst into tatters at the mere movement of their massive and huge hairy arms. Fuck, they were so intimidating. I'd certainly read about muscle-cops. I'd had a lot of fantasies about what they do and what they're like. But, shit, I never thought I'd have two of these stunning, instantly authoritative muscle-gods, on my porch.
I stopped my own gawking when one of them asked me if I was "Paul Dickson." I stammered. I didn't know what to say other than a weak "yes". I collected myself just long enough to ask them why they were here.
"You were at the scene of the accident on the toll way. We took your license number down and obtained this address. You're not in any trouble. Neither is that big huge friend of yours either," one added. "My partner," I barked. "Your partner…my apologies," added the same cop. "We just had a lot of unanswered questions that we need to get answers to for our accident report to our deputy chief. We hope you'll be willing to help us. It is voluntary for both you."
While he said this to me, I couldn't help but drill down on both of these guys and their very tightly tailored blue pants. One had a big bulge that pushed out the zipper. The other had his long thick cock hanging down the inside of his tight right leg. His VPL was awesome. They were like super-heavyweight twins. Both had spectacular v-shapes to their torso, accentuated by their blue shirts neatly tucked tightly into their narrow waists.
Grant came up behind me and brought me back to reality. "Hi officers, how can we help you?" he boomed out in his most authoritative voice. He was taking charge, thank god. "We were just explaining to your….ahhh….partner…that we have some questions that needed to be answered for our accident report. And, by the way, we are all very grateful for your help in saving those kids. We could not have done it without you."
"We are still completely baffled and stunned that you flipped that tanker back up on its wheels and ripped off the side door to that bus. We saw you with our own eyes. As you can probably tell, we are body-builders and power-lifters, too, so we know a thing or two about strength. But your strength is absolutely incredible… in-human…unbelievable. I guess we'd like to talk about that, too." The big cop added that last sentence with a bit of embarrassment and very evident hopefulness. The sexual tension was building quickly.
"I bet you would…yeah…be happy to talk about my strength. I'd like to hear about what you two do, too. Paul, why don't we invite them in?" queried Grant with a knowing smile. He could see that we had a couple of muscle-addicts on our hands. They were real-time muscle-cops…big, threatening, and huge all over. And my gaydar was working overtime, yet again. "Don't mind if we do," added the bigger cop.
I opened the screen door and these gorgeous blue hulks of hyper-masculine manhood came in, one at a time, still wearing their dark wrap-around sun glasses. I gave them another once over and was getting hard again. Fuck, how could two muscle-cops be so big, so muscular, so well-built, and so sexy? My certifiably gay little mind wondered: Are they partners? Or partner partners? Both body-builders? Both power lifters? Who do they fuck? My mind was racing. No doubt Grant already knew.
And these massive blue muscleman beasts are in my living room at the same time, with my own muscle-god, Grant. The possibilities were endless. All this because Grant was unquestionably willing to show – publically -- his super-human strength to save the lives of 12 children. I could never have imagined such an amazing day when I woke up this morning, opened the front door, and saw Grant.
Exploring the Cock-Hardening Possibilities
After standing in my living room just for a moment and looking around – I guess that's just a cop thing – they removed their glasses, folded them up, and put them in their top shirt pocket. Both were handsome but in a rugged and rough kind of way. Grant started us off. "Well, officers, I know everyone at the accident scene really appreciated all that you did, too, to figure out how to get those kids out. You risked your lives. Thanks for what you did," Grant said earnestly. They were standing tall, big, and with their huge shoulders squared. Almost like they were at attention. Holy shit, I was getting intoxicated with lust.
"Thanks. But we don't know your name," said the bigger cop. "I'm Grant," responded Grant. "Grant who?" asked the cop like an inquisitive cop would. "Actually, I'm in the middle of legally changing my last name but that's too much to go into right now," Grant responded calmly.
"Well, Grant. We gotta have a last name for our report," insisted the big cop. "OK. Since Paul is my partner and all, he and I have the last name, at least in our minds. So, I'm Grant Dickson," Grant asserted confidently. The big cop drew up one of his massive hairy arms and reached into another shirt pocket, took out a small pad and pencil, and wrote that down. "Thanks, Grant." Fuck me, what a hell of a huge and hairy arm – though not as big as Grant's, that's for sure.
This was a sight to behold. Three very big musclemen standing toe to toe in my little living room, with me as the "host". Unreal. "Officers, would you like to sit down? Can I get you some water or iced tea?" I asked. That felt so lame. Both sat down on the love seat that Grant and I had used to fuck our brains out earlier this morning. I hoped I hadn't missed getting the leftover jizz cleaned up.
Both were so damn big in the shoulders that there was no extra elbow room. Grant and I sat down in the other couch. The "power" tension in the room seemed to be subsiding, but the sexual tension was growing. "What are your names?" asked Grant innocently. "I'm Officer Max Anderson and this is my partner Officer Greg Vanderbilt," said Officer Anderson.
"So, Grant. Where have you competed?" asked Officer Vanderbilt. "Actually, I haven't. Paul and I just moved here from my family farm in Idaho. Too busy managing the farm and lifting to compete," Grant explained, just as he had at the gym. "Hell, man, we've been around a lot of very big guys but none have come even close to you in size or certainly in strength. Frankly, we couldn't believe our eyes when you pushed that filled tanker back on its wheels," said Officer Anderson.
"Are you some kind of special forces Army project or something? Are they building a platoon of new supermen?" he continued with a bit of a know-it-all attitude. "Nope. I like to say I'm just built by God," Grant said calmly. "Well, what the heck do you lift on the farm to get this fantastic build of yours?" asked Officer Vanderbilt. "Oh, almost anything that weighs at least a ton or more. Tractors. Loaded pick-ups. Cattle cars. You know, that kind of thing," Grant said easily.
Not missing a beat, Grant asked them both what they did in a dead lift and squat. They were easily distracted from asking Grant more questions by the opportunity that Grant had given them with his question back to them. They were clearly proud and wanted to talk.
"I've done a dead lift at 955 and a squat at 857. Both were at the US Police Officers and Fireman's Bodybuilding and Power lifting Competition in 2013," said Officer Anderson with no small amount of pride. "I guess I'm still a work in progress. My dead lift is 910 and my squat is 825. But I've also taken 1st place in the 2012 super heavyweight class at the same bodybuilding competition," said Officer Vanderbilt, not hiding his pride, either.
"My partner here, does better at the power lifting," he added. "Actually we challenge each other in alternating years – sometimes competing in the power lifting and then changing up our training and diet – big time -- to compete at the super-heavyweight body-building class and blow away the competition," he added, even further. "Yeah, we are both into lots of power and muscle…just like you seem to be," he observed.
Grant saw another opportunity. "Excuse me a second and let me go get something," he announced. The power, grace and his extraordinary musculature was not lost on these guys. They couldn't take their eyes off of him. I had no idea what he was going to do. He came back with the v-shaped iron barbell bar that he had bent underneath his cock and balls while fucking the hell of out of me earlier in the morning. Again, I hoped he had cleaned his jizz off it before he brought it into the living room.
"Maybe you guys, being successful lifters and body-builders would appreciate this. I bent this for Paul earlier this morning. I'm gonna bend it back right now so it's straight," Grant stated matter-of-factly. I could see the eyes of these guys open wide. They nervously shifted their big bodies but they had no where to go on the small couch. Taking each end in his massive hands, Grant flipped the V so the ends were up. Then, with barely any effort at all, his arm, shoulder, trap and chest muscles exploded as he powered the ends back down – slowly, clearly for effect -- into the original straight bar.
"See, that's what I do," Grant said with his own justifiable pride. "Not possible. Gotta be bull-shit. What kind of bar do you actually have there, Grant?" demanded an indignant Officer Vanderbilt. Both were clearly very rattled at this amazing display of raw strength.
"The same kind of bar I can bend totally around your wrists as a pair of cuffs, Officer," challenged Grant. Officer Vanderbilt stood up, convinced Grant was a sham. He took the bar from Grant and tried to bend it himself. His upper body and arm muscles grew and grew fast. His sleeves actually split. "Fuck. Loose more uniforms this way," he muttered. No bend. Nothing. "Fuck me. Okay, Grant, try to wrap this around my wrists." He laughed derisively. Big mistake.
Grant took the bar. The cop raised his thick arms, put his wrists out next to each other. Shit, what a power play this was gonna be. These guys have no idea what they're getting themselves into. Grant took the bar, set it on top of the cop's wrists and began to easily wrap both ends around the cop's wrists, bringing the bar into a closed loop around the bottom of his wrists. I certainly wasn't surprised but the cops were in disbelief. "No way. Holy shit, man. Where do get that kind of power?" screamed Officer Vanderbilt. He was standing there in a virtual steel bar prison – the same kind of prison he does for others when he arrests them. Only this time, Grant had "arrested" him with his extraordinary power and strength. This irony was such a turn-on for me, and no doubt for Grant, too. I wondered – from this display of muscles and strength from Grant -- if these guys had some cock-stirring going on, themselves.
While this incredible display of power was going on, I was watching Officer Anderson almost absent mindedly massaging his hard cock. He was the one that had it running down in pant leg, sporting one hell of a VPL. I knew we'd get something good going with these muscle-cops. "Get this off me, now," demanded Officer Vanderbilt. Grant easily wrapped his hands around both ends, pulled the bar out of the loop around the cop's wrists, and straightened it once again. What a show!
There was a sudden change in attitude by both of them. "Alright. Alright. You definitely got something going on, Grant. We don't understand it. Not even close. But we've seen it. You're absolutely amazing. We have never met such a man as you. You are so fuckin' well built. You could take any bodybuilding contest at any time. You're so damn strong, you could win the World's Strongest Man Competition in a heart beat," exclaimed Officer Anderson with passion and some undisguised lust.
"And, fuck, I hate to admit it but you are the most sexy monster I've ever laid eyes on. And god knows, I've been with my share, including my partner, here," added Officer Vanderbilt. "So, my friends, is it safe to say you two are really into muscle, mind-boggling strength, and great muscle-sex that only guys built like us understand and yearn deeply for?" Grant was laying it all out on the table.
"Oh, fuck, yes. Guess you could tell we're more than patrol partners. When we met two years ago at one of the competitions, we fell head over heels in lust with each other. Yes, we're married to our wives, sorta. Max moved down here and joined my unit. Because we're so fucking big and strong, the deputy chief keeps us together as a patrol unit. We're always called into the worst situations because, between the two of us, we scare the fuck out of criminals. They see us and try to run or just give up," explained Officer Vanderbilt. "We're proud of that."
"The deputy chief and our sergeant don't give a shit about our personal life, our sex life together, or our partnership in helping build the other up for power lifting or bodybuilding competitions. All the other officers really look up to us, want to be with us, and want to work out with us. Fuck, most of them want us to fuck them, which we do happily," he added. "And there's more…we think you guys would understand…we're really into worshipping each other's muscles. It's such a turn on and inspiration for us both. And, when we go to competitions – always together – we love getting it on with other musclemen. They always love getting the two of us for one," he said with a laugh. "We have quite a reputation…quite a following. We especially like other really big muscle guys who want to get it on," he said proudly.
"Okay, then, enough of "getting to know each other," asserted Grant. "Let's have some muscle worshipping and muscle sex among just the four of us. As you guys will see, Paul is expert at making us musclemen feel really appreciated. You up for that?" he asked the cops. "Fuck, yes. Ever since we saw you, your incredible muscles and massive body, and unbelievable strength in action at the accident, we've been really hot to get personal with you, Grant. You're an amazing combination of incredible strength, a tall and fantastic build, and you are, as we said, as sexy as hell. Just what we like in our men. And, Paul, we're not gonna leave you out of this. That's for sure," added Officer Vanderbilt.
"Hey, Paul, would you like to do the honors of stripping us out of our muscle-hugging blues? We both saw your leers at the door. We know you want us," said Officer Vanderbilt, explaining the obvious. "Fuck yes!" I hollered. "I get to do you one at a time," I added enthusiastically.
With that invitation, I wasted no time in getting in front of Officer Vanderbilt, the guy with the big dick and VPL. He put his huge arms up and gave me a pumped up double-bi that I manhandled with everything I had. I literally ripped his tight blue shirt right down the middle and pulled it off the front, out of his waist, and did the same thing on his back. God was he gorgeous. Fucking hair everywhere, and certainly not hiding any muscles or his definition. I pushed and mauled his back muscles while he did a rear bicep flex. Incredibly hard muscles. They jumped all over the place as he flexed them. I loved running my fingers through his thick hair.
I came around in front and couldn't resist going after his big long cock hanging down his pant leg. I pulled the zipper down and went digging for it in the flesh. Fuck. I was not disappointed. Very hard and warm. Very thick. I pumped it as best I could as he kept encouraging me with his posing hot muscle talk. Then I went after his belt, pulled the buckle apart, and yanked the belt off his waist. He kept right on posing. Unlatching the clasp and pulling down the zipper, I yanked his pants down to his ankles. What gay man, what muscle-addict, wouldn't give the world to be stripping a massive muscle-cop?
Shit, what a sight. Huge hairy slabs of veined quad beef. His cock sprang straight out. Big, thick, muscular and very veiny. Holy shit. What a crown he had on it. Almost as big as Grant's. "Yep, that's my real club," he announced. He quickly stepped out of his pants. I pulled his socks and cop-issue boots off. What a huge specimen of hyper-masculine manhood! My hands went all over his quads and then I wrapped them around his cock and pumped him hard. He loved it.
The other cop, meanwhile, was getting really wound up and moved in real close to the two of us. He was my next target. This blond monster had already split his sleeves a little earlier. Fuck. How sexy was that. He pumped his arms again and said "I'm all yours, Paul." I wrapped my hands partially around his right bicep and tricep and couldn't squeeze for love nor money. He was just so damn hard. I traced his pencil-thick veins with my tongue, soaking in the smell of manhood.
I went down and grabbed the bottom of his skin tight shirt, pulled it out of his pants and, with all my strength, just about got the whole shirt off his body. He shook the rest of it off and went into a mind-blowing front chest pose. I grabbed at his hard pecs, squeezed his nips as hard as I could, and mauled his huge arm muscles. "Yeah, man, tell me you want me…all of me," he demanded. God, I wanted to dive into his cleavage with my face and lick the hell out of his hair, tight skin, and striations. That could come later.
Next, I went after his belt buckle. I wanted to see this huge package that was pushing out the zipper. After yanking his belt off, and unclasping the pants, I pulled the zipper down. His big black jock basket fell right out. Holy fuck. Perfect for a muscle-cop. I went after it with my hands…pushing and mauling it hard. Then I got down on my knees and drove my face into it, pushing it around with my face, teeth, and nose. The masculine scent was intoxicating. What a muscle-cop he was.
My hands pulled down his pants and his beautiful black jock strap was a spectacular contrast to his white strips of muscle and light blue veins. "Yeah, that's what you want, Paul. Take it. I'm all yours," he demanded. With that I reached around and began yanking down his jock strap, one section at a time. Gradually his big cock and balls became center stage. As he continued to pose, he got hard in no time. Not as long as his partner, but almost twice as thick. And he sported another huge red crown. What a monster he was. I manhandled that cock and sucked the hell out of his big piss slit. Boy, did that turn him on.
While I had been stripping these breathtaking muscle-cops, Grant had gone downstairs and brought up my bench press bench and put it in the middle of the living room floor. He had already stripped himself naked and was swinging his huge dick back and forth. He knew he was the "king of the muscle-god hill" and wanted to make sure these cops knew it. Their eyes, when not watching me strip them, were watching him like hawks and getting turned on big-time.
"Alright men, we're gonna have a four way, and more. Paul, strip and lay down on the bench with your ass up. Max you get on top of Paul and gently guide yourself into his cute tight little ass. Paul, just relax as best you can. Max proceeded to wrap his muscular arms around me and the bench, and started loosening me up with his hard cock. I was ready. God, I loved feeling his hair and all his muscles enveloping my little body. It was painful at my asshole at first but subsided quickly. He kept whispering how good my ass felt. I kept trying to massage his big dick with my ass muscles. I've wondered for years what it would be like to be fucked by a big hairy muscle-cop. Now it was actually happening.
"Okay, Greg, you're next. Go ahead and mount your hunky partner here. I'm sure you've done this many times. Right? Yep. Get up on top of him. Max, you loosen up and let your big strong loving cop partner get in. Max, be sure and hold yourself and Greg up enough so you don't crush Paul. Yeah, that's it…all the way in," Grant coached. "Greg, be sure to grab Max around the chest and Paul, if you can. I want you guys to hold on for dear life."
"Alright Greg, I'm going to get on top of you. Don't worry. My hard dick has more lube than 20 men. And I'm an expert at fucking men. Remember now, keep the weight off of Paul. Paul, you ok?" asked Grant with some concern. "I….think so…you guys just seem so heavy…but it feels great," I responded.
"Here I come Greg. Relax and open wide. Let me though. It won't hurt much, I promise. Yeah. You got it. Your flexing ass muscles tell me you like me. That feels so damn good." Grant was really getting into this scene of muscle-cop fucking.
With that, Grant wrapped his huge long arms around the three of us. Easily squeezing his hands underneath me, along with Max. And we all did what comes instinctively to gay men. We all started to buck and hump each other. Groans and muscle talk filled my small living room. My cock, though it had nowhere to go, other than to be crushed by these three muscle-monsters, still responded by being real hard. I just humped the hell out of the bench.
Then, without any hint of what was to come next, Grant, with his arms wrapped tightly around the three of us, proceeded to lift us all off the bench at the same time! God, what a show of superhuman strength and flexibility. All three of us were stunned as Grant bounced us hard. Grant in Greg. Greg in Max. And Max in me. Holy shit. Grant didn't stop. He was so strong that his bouncing just added to the pumping and thrusting that we were doing to each other already.
Grant was standing up straight now and still holding us all in place. It was unbelievable. He held us so tightly that there was no slipping out of position or out of each other's ass. With my free hands, I started pumping my own cock, now that it was free from the pressure of being jammed into the bench. What a feeling being held by Max, Greg and my extraordinary muscle-god Grant. I made it a point to tell myself to go to these Police and Firemen Bodybuilding and Power Lifting Championships that these guys bragged about. I'd do it with Grant, of course. Once again, the possibilities were endless for us.
We were all so turned on that we began to blow our wad into each other. Not to my surprise, I was the first to release three volleys of thick rope. Then I felt Max push harder into me as he started to scream expletives. Then my ass was all warm with his mother load of jizz. Next, it was Greg. My bet was that he was screaming both from punishing his muscle partner's tight ass and having Grant pound him relentlessly. Greg let out a huge scream. He had delivered his loads.
Grant took it up a notch, if that was possible, and, using his super-human strength, began bouncing us even harder and using that bouncing to pound the hell out of Greg's ass. Holding us even tighter, he let loose with one scream after another…one, undoubtedly, for each load into Greg. God only knows what the neighbors heard. I didn't care.
Gently, Grant let us down onto the bench and pulled his huge arms from around us. "Shit, that is what I call real muscle-sex. I hope you guys liked it as much as I did," Grant said with his ever-present enthusiasm. All three of us were breathless. We had never imagined such man-to-man sex was possible. We had been treated to a four-way that only some superman like Grant could pull off. We couldn't stop talking about how amazing, extraordinary, and mind-fucking that experience of muscle-sex was for each of us. Grant loved the compliments and all the appreciation for what he and his incredible strength, and massive and powerful muscles, had made possible, yet again.
The three of us couldn't contain our extreme passion to want to feel up all of Grant's incredibly pumped up muscles. He soaked it right in. We were all over him with our hands and tongues. Max took Grant's huge cock as far into his mouth as he could. I could tell he was biting and chewing the hell out of it. Grant loved it. Greg and I went after Grant's enormous traps, feeling and punching those, and his huge delts and arms. His posing was awe-inspiring. No matter what pose he gave us, his muscles, veins, and striations just mushroomed out of his huge body. Grant grabbed our cocks and the same time and gave us some unforgettable pumps. We all seemed to explode with cum at the same time. It was both exhausting and exhilarating.
Thank god I have an extra large hot water tank. We had more fun feeling each other up and sword playing with our hard cocks. Being in the warm water just elicited some amazing posing routines and all the intense muscle worship that goes with it. Clearly, we were bonded.
Greg and Max lay around for a while, small towels wrapped around their gorgeous hairy bodies. Grant and I stayed naked and he held me in his arms while I rested a bit. I was, understandably, both overwhelmed and exhausted.
Finally our muscle-cops put on the clothes that hadn't been destroyed. We gave them some shirts to cover themselves. We exchanged heart-felt long bear hugs all around. As their cop car pulled away, they hit the flashing lights and siren. I took that as yet another "thanks".
Grant and I, having had an unbelievable and extraordinary day, crawled underneath the covers. We spooned. I had my backside to his front as he kept reminding me he was there by throbbing his hard cock into my backside. I used his huge left arm as a warm pillow all night long.
Feedback welcomed. No flames, please