Angel: A Sequel 8 (musc)

(Author's note: please refer to important background in Parts I-VII)

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One Month of Muscle Ecstasy

It was astounding to me that Grant had come to my front door, completely unannounced, over a month ago. Fortunately, my intuition said it was "ok to let him in." Holy shit. Letting "him in" was an understatement. Never in my wildest muscle fantasy imagination (and it is pretty wild) would I have believed that such a tall, massively muscular, extremely handsome, and sexy man would ever enter my non-descript life. He was wearing damn near next to nothing – really short shorts, a very tight tee-shirt – all trying to cover up sets of explosive slabs of muscles, veins, tendons, and an ever so light dusting of hair.

I was so grateful that his very intimidating looks were overwhelmed by his very warm and inviting smile – a smile that took over his whole gorgeous face, including a sexy day old beard. He was well beyond any morph I had seen on the internet. Incredibly proportioned. Unreal shoulder width, narrowing into a very sexy V at his waist and then a massive expansion of his thighs and calves. Biceps and triceps, even relaxed, were unheard of on a human man. And, god, his package. Jeez. I'd never seen such a huge package on a man before. I couldn't figure out where his cock began or his balls started – it was just one huge sexy bulge of very virile masculine power.

As I've reported before, we spent the morning in total lust and muscle worship. He completely gave himself to me – knowing exactly what my fantasies had been for years. I fucked his arms, his cleavage, his back, his abs, and all the other parts he flexed and tensed for my pleasure. I came more than I ever thought possible. Then he pulled a miracle on me and gave me a larger penis which thrilled me no end. God I loved using it on him. I got the hang of taking his enormous cock into my mouth. I took in his special testosterone and got incredibly energized. Despite my questions, he was pretty vague about where he came from. "All in due time," he would say compassionately to me, and with a knowing smile.

Boy, did he love being worshipped by me. He was non stop. He had more ideas about how to turn us both on. His astounding incredible strength made the impossible possible. As they say, we rutted like bulls. Our shower together was a mind-blower. God, I loved riding up and down on his hard straight iron beam of a cock. He is so strong that he could use me as a wash cloth as my hard cock fucked every inch of his hard, massive and flexed muscles.

I went to the big and tall men's shop and got him some clothes that turned out to just barely fit him. Fuck, he was sex on wheels with or without clothes. Just for the hell of it we decided to go to the local muscleman gym. Wow, we had a muscle sex and a private body-builder worshipping party that was beyond anything those muscle guys had ever fantasized about. I've never seen so many big hard cocks on so many really big and muscular men. We fucked the shit out of each other with our cocks. They were profoundly mesmerized by Grant's very personal style and his own very special exuding testosterone. His deeply masculine spirit was infectious.

On the way back home Grant did an extraordinary feat of strength and saved some young kids who were in a bus teetering on a bridge railing. He used his unbelievable strength to muscle the semi trailer off the bus, tear open the bus door, and ever so gently bring each kid out onto the ground safely for the EMTs to tend to them. With each kid on the ground, he paused to breathe his breath into these terrified boys and girls. I think he saved many of them by his gift of breath. We didn't talk about that much after words. He just did what he is gifted to do. I began to understand more deeply what a very special guy he was….though I really didn't know the half of it.

In this first month together we became quite a domestic couple…doing what most couples need to do to take care of the house. Yet, we had our own way of doing things. In the house we rarely wore clothes. We loved being naked and sporting our hard cocks damn near all the time. My cock stayed hard because of all of his special testosterone I kept consuming. Added to this was the mystery of slurping milk from his big, thick and every so slightly hairy tits. He loved when I did that. I could bring him to ecstasy at a moments notice. His milk supply never ended. He'd get that "full feeling" and invite me to chow down…which I did very enthusiastically. I always rubbed and pushed on his massive arms and huge traps when I did that…sorta like a "two for one". I thought of a puppy or a kitty "kneading" at their mother's stomach while chowing down.

We made some changes to my little house. We expanded the bathroom shower so it could take two of us with four power nozzles, and we added another hot water heater. We bought a king size bed and, even then, that wasn't big enough for him. He just curled up a little closer to me. I didn't mind that at all. He thrilled the neighbors when he cut the lawn…especially when he wore his shorts and wife beater t-shirt. The guys would always come up and make small talk with him, and ask fitness and nutrition advice. So did the women. Many just wanted to hang around him and be with him. He was, as always, very friendly and very gracious. We could tell they were a bit mystified that they couldn't get more out of him about his background, etc.

We went back to the gym a couple of times. The manager always made sure the gym was locked so the muscleheads and Grant could really get it on. It was stunning to watch how these massive men in their own right let their inhibitions go and completely give themselves sexually to Grant and demand feats of strength from him, all the while rubbing and massaging his flexed muscles. He ate it up and always made sure I was part of the scene. Nothing like watching musclemen use their big hard cocks to fuck Grant's extraordinarily hard and vascular muscles. Sucking on Grant's extraordinary big cock and receiving the gift of his special testosterone was always a very special prize for each of them. It just fueled the muscle lust frenzy even more.

We knew we didn't want to say cooped up in my house just because Grant was so big and so stunning. So, we just said "what the hell" and started to run errands like most couples do. Yet, no surprise, people would just stop in their tracks when they saw Grant. Meijer's, Lowes, a restaurant, a coffee shop, the movies…it made no difference. We got used to it. Fortunately, we were approached by friendly, very curious, and, in some cases, some very lust-filled men and women. Few if any assholes. Grant had a way of dispatching with the jerks quickly. He answered questions, gave advice, took compliments, always flexed his huge biceps when asked, and talked about how he and I were partners (I was always so proud when he did this). We were an exceptional two man witness team – albeit very unusual -- for gay partners. He always wished folks well. What a gentleman and thoughtful soul he is. At restaurants and under the table, he almost always squeezed my leg to "keep the connection" in those moments. I reciprocated as best I could, being only able to grab a very small piece of his hardened strips of quad muscles.

My life truly was a new life with Grant. Not only was he the fulfillment of years of my deep-seated and hidden muscleman and musclegod fantasies, but he was also a beautiful spirit, loving me, all of me. I was feeling like a new man myself…coming into my own deep manhood…which is not an easy thing for a gay man to feel. And, I got to worship his entire gorgeous and massive body anytime I wanted. And, he, being the gentleman that he is, made it a point to make sure I understood how much he was truly turned on by my body. I still have that to figure out – "in the eyes of the beholder" I guess.

 

Yet Another Surprise – A Hint of Things To Cum

We had talked for a few days about what I would like for my birthday. Now, remember, he can read my mind. That is often frustrating. Yet it has its benefits. Often, he'll put into words to me what I only have in vague, unformed thoughts. This was one of those occasions.

I had often referred to Grant as my "Superman". And, lord, I meant that. I had had a Superman fetish from my very young days watching George Reeves in the 1950's on the black and white television. Then the cool Superman series hit in later years on TV. I always watched for their physiques and baskets. Then all the movies started with Christopher Reeves and everybody else. Sometimes I saw the movies twice to make sure I didn't miss any eye candy. And, shit, there were some very hot guys. Tom Welling was a particular favorite. I watched them all. And, of course, during my teenage years, I had a huge collection of Superman comic books. Fuck, my fantasies about Superman and me would go crazy over those years and they still do. I have two great Superman t-shirts in my drawer.

Well, of course, Grant was well aware of this fetish of mine. It never occurred to me that he would pay it any mind. Little did I know. That was to change, big time.

He asked me one morning, while I was snuggled up into the hairy cleavage of his pecs and massaging his arms and abs, if there was something special I'd like for my birthday. I said I really felt I had everything I needed -- now that he was with me. He was quiet. We didn't talk about it the rest of the day. The one exception was later in the afternoon when we decided to fuck the hell out of each other and I jammed by big hard cock into his rock hard abs as hard as I could. He asked me "How do you like fucking Superman?" I didn't miss a beat and told him I wanted to fuck all his Superman muscles, one at a time. We laughed and he started flexing like only he can flex and I was like a kid in a cock-hardening candy store.

He threw up his right bicep and pumped the hell out of it…turning it into a vascular explosion of thick strips of muscle, encased in veins, with a massive forearm that seemed nearly has big as his bicep and tricep put together. I'd seen this display before, yet I am always in awe of its power, size, vascularity, mind-boggling thickness, and the presence of pure, raw, sex.

"Okay, Paul, go ahead. Fuck the hell out of my arm. Jam that big hard cock of yours right down into the deep crevasse between my bicep pig and my rock-hard forearm. Fuck me till you have no explosions left." I jumped immediately onto his hard as a rock waist, kneeling down (he didn't flinch a bit). Grabbed his fist and bicep as best I could. He let up his flex a bit so I could wedge my not insignificant cock into the warm and wet crevasse. Then he tightened it up again. I damn near died and went to heaven and he hadn't even started pumping and squeezing my cock yet.

Then, lubbed by his sweat and my own gusher of pre-cum, I just started to jam my cock into his muscle as hard as I fuckin' could. With each jam he squeezed and tightened. Oh fuck…he was masturbating my cock with his whole arm. I was delirious in ecstasy. He kept hollering expletives about how strong his muscles were, how powerful he was, how he could crush my cock, how he wanted me to jam him even harder. My energy knew no bounds. I just pumped the fuck out of that crevasse, feeling the very hard vice of massive muscle he had me in – very tightly surrounded between his huge bicep and thickly veined forearm. He had me so tight there was no way I was gonna pop out…just a total and complete vice of hard muscle. "Yeah, feel that vice, that vice of inhuman muscle, Paul…only Superman can do that for you," he screamed. He was really gettin' into it too.

Within moments, deep churning started in me and there was no way I was gonna stop it. I pumped harder and he squeezed harder. He kept hollering at me to let it go…feel his vice of muscle…feel his power surround my hard cock…surrender to his inhuman strength. Then the eruptions came. Volley after volley of thick warm cum shot out from my piss slit. It just kept on coming. He kept on pumping and squeezing and more kept coming out. I couldn't stop. Didn't want to stop. He was immovable. I could not get his arm, fist, or bicep to move an inch. He was being a rock. Fuck. Fuck. We were one…and it defied description. Our pulsating bodies and muscles and my cock told the whole story.

In a state of both exhaustion and exhilaration I fell back into Grant's huge chest, spread out over his abs, with my small arms resting on top of his monstrous arms. We were both breathing pretty heavy. He hugged me with such boyish enthusiasm. I felt so cared for, so attended to, so loved. He loved giving himself to me and I loved receiving his gifts and giving myself to him. It really was perfect. Just what true cock-hardening muscle worship can be about.

 

The Mystery Birthday Present Revealed

Later that evening, as we were lounging and cuddling watching some TV show, he asked me again, very gently, "Alright, Paul, what do you really want for your birthday? Like what have you always wanted, deep in your soul?" I was stuck. The breathtaking memory of me fucking his power-packed arm was still with me and that felt like enough. Our house was just perfect for the two of us…including his massive size. We'd had fun being "out in the world" and taking in the compliments and the gawkers. Our sex, due in no small part to his unlimited strength, was mind-boggling. I really didn't have any ideas. Nothing.

"Okay, my dear friend, I think I have a present that will really light your fire. It is something you've dreamed of for years. You've even mentioned it to me many times in the past few weeks. I've watched you dream about it for many years, too," he said mysteriously. "You've longed for this since you were a little boy," he added.

With that he got up, naked of course (I got to watch his spectacular muscular butt go into the bedroom, supported by the most amazing set of striated rear leg muscles on any man, ever). He came out with a big grin on his face, carrying a very large box tied with a big red ribbon. His hard cock was rigid, pointing up, as usual. He clearly was turned on. I immediately wondered where this box came from. He "heard" me and said "Remember, I have my ways that are not well known to you or others in this world," he said with a knowing smile. I'd gotten used to hearing that over the last four weeks. And, I believed it. Experience and just plain acceptance with Grant is quite a teacher.

He plopped the box on my lap and told me to open it. I couldn't imagine what was in it. As it turned out, it did completely defy my imagination.

I pulled the ribbon off and, with some trepidation, started to lift the lid. I was both excited and anxious. I pulled back the top of the white tissue and there, right on top, was the most brilliant Superman emblem of yellow and red on a sea of dark blue that I had ever seen. My heart was in my throat. I flashed, wondering if this was for me, or if he had picked it out for himself. Either way, I was dumbfounded.

I looked at him with an intense look of shock and excitement and he looked back at me with the compassion and love only he could muster. I started to dig in and pull out the huge top piece, together with its very wide and long sleeves. I knew right away from the size that this was an outfit for him, my Superman. Oh my god, he was giving me a Superman outfit that he could wear, just for me…fulfilling years and years of life-long fantasies of being love and cared for by my Superman. I burst into tears…no surprise. He had touched the deepest part of me…the part of me that I had not shared with barely anybody…a part of me that had been hidden well away from daily life…a part of me that I had only lived vicariously in TV series, movies and comic books. Now, he was ready, in all his height and muscular glory, and profound love, to be that Superman just for me. I was overwhelmed. He leaned over, wrapped his big right arm around me and told me how much it meant to him to be able to give me this present and that he hoped it would make me happy. Then he squeezed me hard.

"Oh, Grant, my Superman, words fail me. You have read my heart and I am very very grateful. I can't imagine a birthday present better than this Superman suit on you. I can imagine seeing you in it in all your handsome and muscular glory. Holy shit. Holy shit," was all I could say as my mind flashed to seeing him wearing this extraordinary gift. And the funny thing is that him wearing the suit would be for real…really for real…given who he already is for me.

"I debated about whether to put it on first or bring it to you in a package," he explained. "It just seemed right to have you open the present first. That way you could help me get into it, one piece at a time. I thought you'd might like doing that," he said with a big leer of knowing. "Oh god yes, helping you get this on all your muscles and arranging your cock and balls would be fabulous. Yeah, that was a good call," I added with my own unabashed boyish enthusiasm.

Fuck, the pieces of his Superman uniform were huge. No surprise. As I reverently pulled each out of the box…it felt like we were having a holy experience. The top and its arms were both loose yet woven for a form-fitting look. Oh shit. God that would be amazing. Fuck, the emblem was big but I wondered if it was big enough to fill the width and depth of his massive chest. We'd soon find out. The blue leotards looked like they were already shrink wrapped. God, how would we get him into those things? Would his bulging quads and leg muscles burst out of the fabric? He said, "Actually not, the suit is especially made to expand for me," he said with prideful reassurance.

I pulled out his yellow belt. Jeesuz, what a contrast to his waist and incredible V-shape that would create. Then I pulled out his red trunks. Oh my god…the whole idea that he could stuff his big muscular ass and huge set of cock and balls into this thing boggled my mind. He would be sex personified. Much more so than any of the other wussy Superman's we've seen on TV or in the movies. His red boots were next to the last. Bright, shiny, lace-up jobs. The personification of sleek power.

Then, right at the bottom of the box, was his beautiful smooth red cape. Suddenly he reached over and with great deliberation and fanfare pulled this gorgeous piece of tightly woven fabric out of the box. He stood up and, much to my surprised pleasure, he wrapped it around his massive shoulder and traps…and just held it there…the very long length flowing down his big body….modeling it for himself and modeling it for me. All in the nude. Holy shit, it and he were absolutely spectacular. The cape was of such a fabric so that there were no creases. Just a long flowing cape that could completely encircle his huge body. Oh Jesus, he really is Superman. I damn near had an orgasm right on the spot.

We carefully laid the cape out on the floor. Then we spread out all the pieces and just stared at this listless outfit that would soon cover his massive body of bulging muscles, striations, and veins. It was a holy moment. Fuck, he was going to be the most handsome Superman ever…and he was all mine. He gave me a big grin at that last thought. And, of course, both our cocks were in full straight-on mast position. I was beside myself in excitement that I would help him squeeze himself into each piece and watch the transformation of the loose expandable fabric as it stretched mightily to cover his exceptionally massive body. The whole idea of jamming his warm hard huge cock and balls into the red trunks had really grabbed my imagination as well.

"Okay, why don't we start with the shirt and sleeves," suggested Grant. I already knew that given his super-powers, he could get in and out of this outfit in an instant. Yet, he was asking me to "help him" – it was part of my birthday present for which I was eternally grateful. Hell, I immediately planned to always help him in and out of it – all the time. God what a turn on that would be.

To make things easier on me, he sat down on the couch and I took the torso top and literally began to wrestle with getting it over his head and down his massive neck muscles. That was ok but I could not get it low enough for him over his huge shoulders to put his exploding arms into the arm holes. He proved to be very helpful…stretching the fabric so he could pull his arms into himself and push through the holes. Fuck, then I pulled the whole torso piece down to way below his belly button and we had a transformation of extraordinary proportions on our hands. God I've always loved clothed body-builders. Skin-tight clothing always seemed to have a major sexual message to it for me and Grant was no exception. All his bulging traps, delts, biceps, triceps, forearms, pecs muscles and protruding tits were just bursting out thru the fabric…like he was wearing another skin. Damn, the height of his bulging traps were to die for.

"What d'ya think, Paul?" he asked expectantly. "Oh my ever loving God, you are so incredibly sexy, so massive, so built, so proportional…the fabric just accentuates your bulges and deep crevasses. God, I love all your deep curves. The suit is so skin tight. It makes your huge protruding chest even look more massive. And those tits!! I can see your big veins through the suit. Shit, you sure are my Superman…in spades," I enthused.

"Alright, what d'ya say we tackle these trunks," he announced proudly. He was reading my mind. I told him he'd have to cut back on his massive erection otherwise we'd never get him in. He said, "That's a problem I'd like to have. Nothing like Superman with a big ass erection jutting up to his left hip…at least with you and me." Yeah, he was definitely into this. I opened up the trunks so he could step in – one massive leg at a time. I noticed the trunks had a built-in jock-strap. I wondered if it would be big enough and powerful enough to withstand Grant's brick splitting hard-on. With his cock hitting me in the face (I loved it), we got the trunks over his calves and quads ever so slowly, lifting one front and back section at a time. Jeez, he was huge, even relaxed.

Then the best part, at least for me. I got to grab and squeeze his hard warm cock and start jamming it down into the trunks while I pulled them up over his waist. His big balls filled up the jock quickly. His short and beautiful pubic hair was a spectacular contrast to his equipment. I got his warm cock into the jock strap and, just as he had suggested earlier, it was so big that it went up to his left hip. Fucking sexy as hell. Then I pulled the trunk up over the entire package, working the cloth over his big glutes as best I could. He took a moment and very slowly and sexily adjusted himself front and back. He tucked the shirt into the trunks.

He became the epitomy of one hell of a sexy Superman and we didn't even have all the outfit on him yet. He gave me the arms on the hips Superman pose that makes me weak in the knees. He knew it. And, it sure did. I couldn't help but give his cock and balls a real hard massage and even playfully punch them. I knew I couldn't hurt him. I had long since figured out that he has a masochist streak in him, too. I laughed when I saw a wet spot coming thru the jock strap and trunks. He giggled.

The yellow belt was next. Fuck. It was thick and wide and perfect for a very big man like Superman. I pulled it around him and he took over, pulling it tight. No breath intake was necessary for him. His waist was already incredibly small and powerful for a man his size. He inserted the end into the loop and posed yet again. Holy shit. Damn. I was having a hell of a time not blowing my wad. The belt accentuated his amazing v-shape, his huge lats, his extremely defined abs, and obliques. If the mid-section is the location of a man's full and most profound power, Grant had it all going on big time.

The skin-tight blue tights were something else altogether. How could we possibly get them up and over his massive calf and leg muscles? Sure, they would fit his narrow waist. We both had a look of a little wonderment on our face as I held them up. They seemed so small and flimsy. Grant reassured me that the fabric was very stretchable.

With him standing on one leg, I got one leg – with quite a struggle – up and over a calf and partially up his beautiful quad. We were able to do the second leg only that far. Then with all the muscle I could muster, I started to pull the fabric up each of his quads. Damn, the muscles fought this fabric assault big time. They did not want to be constrained for any reason. And, fuck, it was still so sexy…especially with my face damn near jammed into his tight trunks and jock, with his cock extended way off to the left hip. Yet it became very clear that this fabric would be a beautiful second skin to his undulating muscles.

As the fabric hit the bottom of his trunks, I was able to just barely pull the trunks out just a bit from around his leg muscles and force the blue tights up and under. Lordy, it was hot pushing my hand up his trunks, feeling the hard muscle and fabric. I took the opportunity to grab at his extended cock and balls at the same time. That was a rush. The trunks and tights were so tight that no piece of fabric was going to be pulled out of place. No seams. No creases. No folds. Just plain silky tight smooth fabric being stretched to its limit across mountains of thick muscle.

He stood back…standing proud and we admired our handiwork. Wow, what a feast of masculine power and manhood. He made those other Supermen look like wussies. He sat down and we started to work on the sleek red boots. I unlaced them and they fit him like a glove. Almost all the way up to his calf. Damn. Another piece of sexual equipment added to his Superman persona. He stood up again and paraded around. Holy mother of god…I was in complete ecstasy….a long-standing boyhood wet dream come true.

Now the most important piece. Again, almost in a reverie, he reached down and pulled the flowing red cape up and in front of him. It was almost like he was checking to make sure it was the right size. We were both breathless. In a very graceful gesture he wrapped the cape around his back and, using very well hidden industrial snaps, snapped the cape up around the shirt on his massive traps and shoulders. We were clearly anointing him with this beautiful cape. That done, he placed his arms – yet again -- in the Superman signature "hands on his hips" position and assumed that very famous Superman pose. The pose that had turned on boys and men (and maybe some girls) for years and years.

Never could I have imagined such an extraordinary and deeply personal birthday gift from him. We both were grinning ear to ear …very excited that this was happening. And that he was complete. He was complete as Superman. Superman fulfilling all my many years of fantasies. For real.

In an easy and deliberative way, he walked over to me. He put his huge Superman-covered arm under my legs, leaned me back, and had me fall into his other massive arm. He brought me close to his chest, holding me tight, just as Superman would, and whispered "Happy Birthday my dear friend Paul. Happy Birthday." I burst into tears again. I was just so profoundly touched to have these many years of fantasies fulfilled by Grant. He held me tighter. Then he told me something he had never told me, "Paul, I love you, and want to be your Superman forever." I buried my teary face into his big thrusting Superman emblem chest and just let it all hang out.

 

Our Testosterone Takes Over

After a few minutes of being held so closely by Grant, I started to get hard – again. Fuck, since taking in all his testosterone I'd become a non-stop sex machine. He saw that and put me down. And, with a quizzical look on his very handsome face, he looked like he was asking me "what next?"

I moved in real close and started to explore all the muscles, bulges, and contours of my new Superman. I slowly felt the delicate and tight fabric that was covering every part of his amazing body. I felt the smoothness from moving from one ever so slightly covered bulging muscle to another and back again. I felt the deep sexual reverie of hidden muscles. And I continued doing that – all over his massive body. He stood perfectly still. Letting me explore all of him – everywhere. I paused when a tight cloth contour emphasized a special crevasse or bulge. He was giving himself to me, yet again. And, I was giving myself to him. Our mutual admiration and love was made in heaven.

I went up to his huge traps and he obliged me by giving me an amazing flex. Such height. Such striations. Such sweep. Such hardness. My hands roamed onto his extremely thick and vascular neck – covered in columns of muscle and sinew. The epitome of manhood in my eyes. The sign of a beast of a man. A man that could not be conquered and would always be the conqueror. Without hesitation my right hand went down to his crotch and I started to massage, grab, and squeeze hard, his huge steel pole --still shooting off to his left hip. I massaged it hard and one of his traps at the same time. The two muscles were profoundly connected for me. Both signs of virility and masculine power that knew no end…and that fed on each other. He wasn't moving…just simply absorbing my worship of him. He did let out a few very deep and guttural sounds of approval, however.

I was in another world. A world with my Superman. A world that I had long dreamed of but never thought could possibly exist. It did not matter that he was a mystery and that his arrival on my door step defied explanation. All that mattered was that we were here, together.

I gently pushed him back onto the sofa. He opened up his legs and arms. Such a wonderful invitation. I got down on my knees and dove into his crotch. I wanted to feel, taste, push around, massage, bite, and nuzzle his balls and, most especially, his extraordinary steel hard cock. I wanted to do this thru the fabric. The fabric held mystery, and mystery was what I wanted right now. I wanted the mystery of Superman's cock and balls…the core of his manhood…the hidden of the hidden. I wanted to touch and suck where no one had ever touched, sucked, and teethed before.

My passion kicked in big time and I couldn't get enough of his tightly encased fabric-covered body. He just exuded sex. I mauled every muscle possible and he flexed each one so I could feel it at its peak. I traced his big veins along his arms – they were clearly visible thru the fabric. I grabbed his traps and dove into his chest, sucking on and biting his tits. He just groaned. I raised myself a little higher and started dry-humping his trunks, bulging with his cock and balls. I was on fire for him. I couldn't believe I had the strength to jam him as hard as I did. It felt so good. Both of us were as hard as hell.

As I humped him, I started licking and kissing his biceps – up, down and around. God, they were huge. And so fuckin' hard. When he flexed, he put up two peaks on each for me to lick till there was no tomorrow. I couldn't resist diving into his exceedingly powerful neck and licking the columns of sinew and muscles that spoke of his unbelievable power and sexuality. He just moved his head from side to side to give me the best licking position. I loved licking his day old beard. He is so fuckin' masculine. His groans didn't stop, either. Fuck, I was fucking Superman…Superman's muscles…all of them!

In his own moment of passion, he brought his huge arms around and squeezed me like he was doing a crab or most muscular pose. I was totally encased in exploding muscle and veins. I couldn't move. I didn't want to move. I just let him have his way with me and manhandle me any way he wanted. I could tell he had locked his hands behind me and kept squeezing and squeezing. Fuck, it hurt but it hurt good…real good. I loved being completely overpowered by this massive monster of a man – my Superman. He knew I loved it, too.

Without a sound, he let me out of the most muscular embrace. I slid down until I was sitting on the floor with my back to him. I put my puny arms up on both gigantic quads and he began a series of quad flexes that just blew my mind. Fuck, I had never seen such mass and separation of all these leg muscles at the same time. That, plus he had veins going everywhere. Power, pure fuckin power. I turned around and began doing my own manhandling of his thighs and calves. Our muscle talk was filled with expletives and deep appreciation. He was clearly really proud of these mothers…these monsters. And for good reason. I couldn't get enough rubbing, massaging, and attempts at pushing the hard muscles around with my hands. I couldn't wait to sit on them and feel them up hard when he did leg presses in the gym. What a gift he is to me.

 

The End of A Special Day

Superman. A mystery to all but me. I knew in the days ahead I would know him more as Superman and less as Grant. He knew that, too. We would explore the limits of his super powers together. He would perform amazing feats of strength for me while I massaged and groped his flexing muscles. We'd "work out" after hours in the muscle gym, all by ourselves. He'd let me manhandle him and his muscles while he pushed around astounding weights. I'd pump his thick long cock, bring him to orgasm, as he pumped tons of iron - effortlessly. I knew he was reading my mind…reading my fantasies. How good could it get that we were on the same wave length in our new life together.

He reached down and brought me up into his arms and close into his chest, yet again.
We spent the rest of the day in each other's arms. I was very grateful that he had come to my door unannounced and that I had had the good sense to let this very special man into my life.

Lord knows what the days ahead would bring.

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