Bruce's New Weekend Mission: It Takes Three (musc)
by msclvr
Making Plans
I was swimming in very vivid and visceral memories of last weekend with Bruce, my muscle god, and my private Superman. Massive muscles tied together with tight tendons and veins, veins. Lots of them. At 6’4”, 295 lbs and black wavy hair, he is hyper-masculine beyond belief. And he’s knows it. His blue eyes drill right into my soul when he starts posing. He has two purposes when he poses. One is to turn himself on --- get himself all sweaty and heated-up and have an explosive orgasm. His second purpose is to turn me on and light my fire so I go crazy worshipping every part of him – fucking his every muscle and crevasse with my rock-hard cock.
And, this last weekend for us was one of big, really big, packed packages. Hard-packed and bulging posers. His very big cock and hairy balls were truly center stage – hard or soft. He’s really hung and he loves to show it all off. I have never – with my bare hands -- pushed, groped, jammed, inserted, fondled or caressed so much male cock and ball beef – packed in a muscleman’s tiny posers -- as much as I did last week end. Talk about a fantasy come true.
And, am I ever missing Bruce. And it’s not even a week since he left to go back to LA. God, what a weekend! Just to be clear, and I can’t stop thinking about this. We couldn’t get enough of his massive muscles and his exceptionally big thick cock and balls. It didn’t matter what I put him in….a wrestler’s sheer singlet where all his equipment hung down and bulged in a major profile along his left leg…or a tiny lime green poser he’d used in the Arnold Classic.
And, while he was exploding his muscles in great posing routines, I was giving him a “poser massage” with both of my hands. Either from turning himself on with his posing (which is almost always the case) or me giving him the package “massage,” he sprung a huge hard-on that just popped up out of the side of poser – and stood straight up, dramatically pushing the poser to the side. Jeesuz…he really got me going with that. We also had our beautiful tender moments when I could gently trace his pencil-thick veins. Slowly and sensually circle his pecs and abs with my finger. Trace his jaw line and thick lips. Gently massage his enormous traps. He really liked that. He’d get on top of me and -- very slowly -- do push up after push up – using his tremendous muscle control -- with his muscles and skin just barely touching me. I loved it when his always hard cock just nudged my own. Then he’d push me around, just a little bit. God, he is so strong.
Then, much to my pleasant surprise, I saw on my caller ID that he was calling me.
“Hey, Tim. Miss me?”
“Shit, I sure do. Seems like you left a month ago, not a week ago.”
“You sure put me into overdrive. I’m beating-off twice a day over the last week, reliving how you went after my big-ass muscles with such passion and creativity….driving me to extreme flexes and non-stop posing routines that just make me so damn horny I can hardly stand it.”
“Hell, Bruce, you are always horny…always. And I love that about you. I get so turned on when you start posing and get a hard-on yourself. It is so sexy. I don’t know how you can compete and not be disqualified for being obscene!”
“I tell you what. I’ve learned that what is one person’s obscenity is another’s fantasy come true. And that is true among bodybuilders as much as it is with an audience.” He lets out a big laugh.
“When can you come back?” I ask.
“Well, I have another plan, if you’re game. Why don’t you come out here to LA for a weekend? I can cover your travel expenses. No sweat. You’ve been such a good host to me over the last year. Waddya’ think?”
“Wow. You’re reading my mind. I’d thought about that. I’d love to,” I exclaimed.
“And,” he added softly and with subtlety, “speaking of bodybuilders, I have a really massive muscle guy I’ve just started to get to know. We met at the Arnold Classic. He lives out here, too. He is one big motherfucker and hairy as hell in the off season. Almost as big as me. His equipment is almost as big as mine, too. Yeah, I know, a little conceit comes with what I do! Right? Anyway, he’s blond, quite handsome and very friendly. I thought I’d invite him over while you’re here so the three of us could have some fun together. Have I interested you?”
“Well…I’m not sure. I know you but I don’t know him. And I certainly don’t know if he likes what we do together,” I said with a mixture of both concern and excitement.
“I hear you. I trust him. He and I have talked a lot about bodybuilding, escort services, what muscle worshippers are looking for – stuff I’m an expert on. While he’s not very experienced, he really does want to follow in my foot-steps. It’s like he’s in training and I’m his trainer and more. We need you to make a muscle-worshipping session really work. We need your unbelievable passion and expertise as an inspirer and as a connoisseur of massive muscles and what muscle gods give and what they want.
Believe me, if he tries any funny stuff, I’d protect you and beat the shit out of him in an instant.” I was startled by that last comment about beating the shit out of someone. I’d never heard him talk that way before. This was another side of Bruce, for sure. However, he said that last thing with real concern and commitment in his voice. That was another way he showed me how much he cared for me.
“OK, my muscle god, you’ve convinced me. I’m game.”
“Great,” he said. “You won’t regret it. Believe me. Let’s plan on something in the next few weeks. I can’t wait much longer to see you and feel your hands grope all of my muscles and my equipment. I especially like it when you oil me up in that really slow and sexy way. You go ahead and make airline reservations and let me know when you’re coming in. My weekends are pretty open except for my gym workouts and flexible escort appointments.”
We said our good-byes and I hung the phone up in a daze. A three-some? How could that work? How could I keep both of them happy, without one or the other getting jealous? Oh. Oh, yeah. I guess the question is also how would the two of them attempt to best each other in thrilling me? Now that’s really the question that matters, I tell myself. Knowing Bruce, I know we’ll find some very creative ways to take us – all three of us – to the heights of muscle worshipping and sexual excitement and passion.
Arrival in L.A.
I packed light knowing it was summer out there. I made sure I had my favorite lube. I also bought along some condoms since I didn’t know this other guy. I picked out some sexy underwear and brought my Speedo in case we went swimming. The flight seemed to last forever. Bruce had told me he would meet me at the place in the terminal that all the exiting passengers have to go through. I had some pretty vivid fantasies of what he might wear, or not. One thing I do know, he is not shy about showing himself off publically or otherwise.
He loves it when folks follow him or when guys come up and try to proposition him. He is a gentleman and thanks them for the compliment. Never gets mad like some bodybuilders do. When nervous girls, boys, men, and women ask to feel his flexed bicep, he’ll even pull back his short sleeve to show it off even more. He almost always wears short sleeves. Again, he accommodates them without an attitude. That is one of the many things I really like and respect about my muscle god.
I pick-up my pace as I walk the long corridor to the exit. My heart is beating faster with excitement and anticipation. My overnighter is light. Do I kiss him? Do we hug? Do both? In public? I know I’ll be more comfortable if we give each other a big hug. If he wants a kiss, too, he’ll get that from me as well.
“Hey, Tim, over here,” comes a booming voice from the right. As I turn and walk toward him, I have 35 feet to be in awe of him and his outfit.
The first thing I saw was his big handsome grin. It looked like some combination of self-satisfaction and “I’m really glad to see you.” But I wasn’t sure. Then I just took in his whole body. First, his tight shirt was actually long-sleeved – a stunning and very sexy surprise. A rarity for him. But, God, did it show off his bulging neck muscles, cantaloupe deltoids, massive traps, incredibly wide shoulders, and a set of arms that were astounding – from bicep, to tricep, to forearm. That’s probably why he wore it. It was all encased in pure white.
Then, I eyed his shorts and they really were shorts – red, of course. I couldn’t believe that he would be so bold as to let his huge package bulge that way in public. But, then again, this was Bruce being my muscle god. The shorts were tightly contoured to his humungous thighs beginning about half-way up. His package was standing out, proudly, in the middle of the two behemoths of upper leg muscle. No socks. Just standard issue gym shoes, emphasizing a pair of really large calves.
I was blocking out everything and everyone around us. Lost track that anybody was there at all. I was only looking at him and feeling both very overwhelmed and very in love. Yes, in love. I put that out of my head for a while. My walking had slowed down -- in my reverie of him -- and he started to walk to me very fast. God, I love his enthusiasm, especially for me. We are so different and so alike in so many ways.
“I know. I know. You think I overdressed. Or is it underdressed? Neither. This is just my “am I really glad to see you” outfit,” he said excitedly. He knew what I was focusing on and didn’t mind it one bit. I threw my arms up around his extremely vascular and corded neck and pulled him in to me as powerfully as I could. He obliged and wrapped his thick arms around me. We both squeezed hard. God, it felt good to be with him again. He was sporting a day’s dark shadow which caressed my check and mouth. Oh, fuck, he is so masculine…so sexy. The after shave? Still Old Spice.
We finally released each other, ignoring the looks I’m sure we were getting. I didn’t care at all. “How was the flight?” he asked. “It seemed to go on forever. I couldn’t concentrate on any reading or the movie. All I thought about was you, last weekend, and being with you and the other muscle guy this weekend,” I replied.
“Here, give that to me,” he commanded. I gave him my overnight and watched his arm muscles flex, twitch, and bulge slightly. Like always, he watched me like a hawk -- watching me watch his arm muscles. That’s just part of our muscle-worshipping chemistry.
While weaving in and out of all the people coming and going, and watching many of them gawk it us…mostly him…I asked about the other bodybuilder.
“Well, here’s my plan. You and I spend the night together and get it on big-time. I’ve arranged for Ken….. that’s his real name…to come by in the morning about nine. Since you two need to get to know each other, and I want to get to know him better myself, I thought we’d go out to breakfast and just get acquainted. Then we’d come back to my place and go from there. How does that sound?” he anxiously inquired. I am always moved when he is even just a little anxious or unsure of himself. He can make himself so vulnerable to me.
“I like it all…with you all to myself tonight…and getting to know Ken before we get into any serious action,” I stated, feeling reassured that this idea might work out better than I could have imagined. Me, worshipping two extremely handsome muscle gods at the same time. They, wanting to please me, so I can inspire them even more. That is the wonderful thing about muscle-worshipping – it is so mutually dependent.
All of a sudden this tall very good-looking young teenage guy walks up pretty damn boldly to Bruce, almost, but not quite, blocking his path. “Sir, I want to be as big as you someday. I saw some of your pictures from the Arnold Classic on-line. I really think you were gypped out of the title.” He meant it. “Thanks, kid. That’s a nice compliment. I’ll win, you can bet on that. “Sir,” he said again, with an imploring sound to it, “I know we’re right in the middle of all these people but would you step over to the side of the hall and flex your biceps for me? I’d love to touch and feel them.”
This kid had balls. Just the kind of boldness it will take for him to become like Bruce. “Sure,” said Bruce with an understanding smile. I followed the two of them over. Bruce dropped my bag. Up went his arms and he grimaced a bit to give the kid a flex he wouldn’t forget. The kid’s eyes bugged wide open and he ran both his hands over both peaks and around the triceps, one right after the other. I think he was beginning to feel a bit self-conscious because he did this pretty fast. No lingering. “Oh my god. You are astounding. Thank you. Thank you. That really inspires me to workout even more,” he said appreciatively. “No problem, kid. What’s your name?” Bruce inquired. “Tom,” he said.
“OK, Tom, you not only have to work out with the right weights for your age but you gotta stay away from the junk food! Got it? And no drugs, none!” “Yes, sir, I’ll do it and thanks a million,” and the kid seemed to walk away in a daze, but only after a long gaze at Bruce’s big red package. Bruce noticed that, too. He always notices when someone gazes at his stuff. “Happens like that all the time,” said Bruce. “Always makes me feel good to inspire others….sorta the way you inspire me,” he added with a smile. I love the idea that I inspire him. That, as small as I am compared to him, I know what he wants and can give it to him big time. We continued on through the masses and all the gawkers. I was so proud to be with him.
We got to his car. Of course, it was a bright red convertible. No surprise. I spent the 45 minute drive massaging all his thick, muscular thigh muscles, trying to get up underneath the shorts at the leg hem and at the waist – to no avail. They were both too tight. So, I satisfied the both of us with an aggressive package massage with my left hand – all the time hoping he wouldn’t drive off the road from an orgasm or something like that. While the package was packed and tight, I could tell I got him hard pretty quick. Then I worked on massaging his extended baseball bat. God his hardness felt so damn good. He kept telling me how good it felt to him, too. I swear he was groaning but I couldn’t hear him in the open car.
At the Condo
He was on the fifth floor of a very nice building in the Santa Monica area, a definitely gay area of LA. As we went up the elevator, there wasn’t much talk. We were both just really glad to be together again. We shared the elevator with another man who, I could tell, was making side and furtive glances at Bruce. Bruce ignored him. It was quite an experience to be in such a small space with Bruce and realize what a very big man he was…his wide shoulders, his height, his thick, yet defined musculature, and his stunning v-shape.
I was pleasantly surprised at how spacious, well-decorated, and kept up his condo was. “Welcome, little buddy,” he announced. I always feel both a little intimidated and yet special when he calls me little buddy. I followed him into the bedroom. Again, very neat and well-decorated. And the bed, the bed was a king-size bed. Perfect. Still, given his height and muscle bulk, I thought it might be a bit small for him, let alone two of us.
He put my bag down and said “Follow me.” I got in behind him and, on impulse, groped his ass muscles. Even relaxed, they were awesome to feel. I flashed on seeing him naked, from the back, in my place a few weeks ago. I couldn’t imagine a sexier guy. We went into what turned out to be his home workout room. Wow! He had every piece of workout equipment imaginable. A huge multi-purpose freestanding workout machine. Lots of free weights – on bars large and small. A set of smaller re-bars of different size, some bent and some not.
I went into hyper-ventilation. Will I get to see him do some feats of strength by bending these things? I got hard just thinking about it. Nothing like muscle-worshipping him while he does incredible feats of strength. He always as a hell of an orgasm while we do that together. And then there were the mirrors. Spread all over the walls and, a couple placed directly on the ceiling above the bench. “What do you think?” he asked. “Hell, you certainly don’t have to go outside to the gym to work out. You’ve got it all here,” I observed. “Even though I’m a certified exhibitionist, there are times I like privacy – no stares – no interruptions – and, it’s a place I can share with another muscleman and we can do anything we want.” He gave me a smirk. Yeah, I got it. We can do stuff together, too!
Back into the kitchen and he poured us both a tasty fruit health drink. Then he said “Help me take off this shirt, I feel too confined.” “At your service,” I responded enthusiastically. I got to feel his amazing ab muscles, obliques and lower chest as I hoisted the bottom up over itself and nearly over his head. His muscles twitched and expanded as he gyrated himself in time to my pulls. The tough part was his arms. Damn, the long-sleeve shirt was tight.
He relaxed completely and I was able to start pulling out and off from his broad and bulked shoulders. That worked, the sleeves finally came off exposing his masses of biceps, triceps, forearms, veins and tendons. He shook himself out and I circled – more or less – both of my hands around one of his arms and squeezed. He responded with one hell of a flex. I felt myself getting hard instantly.
“That’s enough for now. You can look and feel my shorts and package all you want for the moment. You’ll be taking them off after dinner,” he said with a tease in his voice. With that invitation I went behind him, leaned into his massive back with my face, and wrapped my arms down around his waist. My hands started digging into the top of his tight shorts to find his manhood. And find it I did. I grabbed the shaft of his growing cock as best I could and squeezed. My hand only went around half its length and barely made the circumference.
He went into a bicep pose and flex and softly but in a commanding tone said, “Yeah, man, feel my power. Feel my source…my sex power. Feel my heat, my hot meat. Yeah…wrap your puny hands around my big cock. It’s all yours…all of it. Feel this muscleman’s sex.” I really got into it, pushing and squeezing pretty hard. He groaned and I got even harder than I was before we started. He started to ooze loads of pre-cum. “You are a massive god, a powerful, powerful man, powered by being the biggest, strongest and handsomest,” I said passionately. It was all true. I couldn’t wait for tonight. I pulled my hands out of his shorts and carefully licked my fingers clean.
We reluctantly separated and he moved into the kitchen and fixed a delicious dinner of fresh fish and vegetables. No diet exceptions, even with me there. We talked about his visit a few weekends ago – it was muscle talk – which we both relished and kept us hard. We also talked about his last competition and the one coming up. He was on a mission to take 1st place at the next one. I studied his face – his blue eyes – the cute cleft in his chin – how his day-old beard made him look so masculine – how his curly black hair framed his drop-dead facial features.
When I wasn’t looking at his face and into his eyes, my eyes studied his neck muscles, gorgeous traps, his very broad and bulky shoulders and their veins, and his unbelievable arms and their veins. No wonder he gets so many people coming up to him. He’s a very masculine sexual magnet to both men and women and he works at it. I’m so glad he really likes men, including me.
Our talk turned to the mystery man, Ken. Bruce told me that Ken had been a very successful international super-heavy weight power lifter until a few years ago. While doing that he had realized he needed to make some money and becoming an escort was the logical choice. He also came out of the closet just after finishing his lifting career. He started working with a trainer to get more muscle bulk in areas overlooked by lifting, radically reduce his fat percentage, and to get more definition. He succeeded on all fronts, competing very successfully in a number of local and state contests. He came in a surprise third place at the Arnold Classic. Bruce made it a point to say he, himself, had come in first. A “doofus” heavy-weight had won the overall.
“I’ve never seen such a hairy guy that had all the muscle definition, separation, and veins that he has. I fucked the shit out of his hairy pecs once. Then I shaved him. And fucked his smooth-as-silk pecs, again. He has extraordinary pec control and can literally create waves of muscles moving up and down his pecs,” Bruce explained with no small amount of admiration. “He’s between contests now and is carrying a lot of hair. It’s all over his body. I can see why his clients really get off on that. He knows how to use it to maximum effect. It turns me on, too,” Bruce added.
“Ken tends to be a little shy. But when you get him talking muscle sex, working out, posing, and what he does as an escort, he really gets fired up,” Bruce reported. “I’ve taken him under my wing to show him the world of muscle-worshipping, gay sex, and what it takes to be a full-time muscle god. He’s very friendly and anxious to please, and really hung. And best of all, he’s so god-damned handsome that even I get turned on just looking at him. It’s not lost on me that I love a mirror image of myself!” Bruce let out a huge laugh at his own joke.
He was laughing knowing full well that he had a lot of narcissism, in addition to being conceited. With any other person, these would be relationship killers, especially for me. But in the world of muscle-worship, these qualities are absolutely necessary. Even with these qualities, he still had a great personality and was as much a gentleman as any other good guy.
A Workout
“Well, how about helping me with a little workout on the machine before we go to bed?” He said this very confidently, knowing he’d get an enthusiastic “yes” from me. Into the workout room we went. “Hey, let’s workout in the nude,” he demanded. This is what I’ve been waiting for.
I sat down on the workout bench and he came over and positioned himself standing right in front of me, with his straining package just a bit below my face. What a view! I could see some strain and wrinkle pulls on the fabric of the shorts, coming from both sides of his basket. That’s how big and packed he was.
First, I explored his abs, especially his deep ridges. Amazing. So defined. He flexed them. Made them hard as a rock. I tried to push on them and made no headway. He grinned. Then I moved my hands up to his pecs and, while they were relaxed, pushed them around, as limited as that was. Then he flexed them and bounced them back and forth. What a feast of muscle for my lustful eyes.
Then I moved my hands over to his biceps. All I could do was rub them. They were way too big to even start to grasp – even when they were relaxed. So I kneaded both sets of triceps and the biceps and moved down his arms to his forearms and all the tendons that were barely covered by his skin. God, the map of veins all over both arms was breath-taking.
Right at that moment, his arms went up into the air and he gave me a front double biceps. And he really pumped it. Making them bigger with every breath. “Now, what do like most about your muscle god?” he demanded. “I love how you are the most massive and most huge man I have ever met. I am awestruck at your unrivaled power and strength. You are a man’s man, a man’s muscle fantasy come true. You are so sexy. So masculine. Your arms bend steel. You lift cars. Your package screams to be manhandled, fondled, and worshipped.” I was breathless. “Yeah, I know little buddy, I know,” he said most confidently.
“Now, take this thing off me,” he ordered. My hands quickly went down to the center button that was holding this straining fabric on him, temporarily hiding his very manly treasures. I unbuttoned him and slowly began to pull the zipper down. His black patch of hair started to show. No underwear. What a turn-on that was for me. I started pulling and twirling his hair. It was thick and long. “Yeah, baby, check out that motherfucking equipment of mine. You won’t find anything bigger, stronger, and able to go on forever,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“Pull down one leg at a time, that’s the only way it’s gonna come off,” he instructed. Sure enough, with each leg his massive cock, huge crown, and hairy balls became more and more exposed. Finally, he could step out of the shorts. His cock was getting hard right in front of my face. I leaned over and licked the big warm head, especially his piss slit. He let out a little groan.
He leaned in to me and I took his beautiful head into my mouth and swirled by tongue around it. I put my hands and arms around his ass and pulled him in even closer and took as much of the cock as I could, not even half its length, let alone its width. I pumped back and forth, dragging my teeth over his hardness. He loves this. I think it makes him feel impermeable. Which he is, to me, too. During all this action with his cock, he was moving gracefully from one powerful pose to another – shifting and gyrating his body so all his muscles were shown to their perfection.
“Keep me in your mouth and move back on the bench” he commanded. He cooperated by moving forward and I could do this without losing him. I didn’t know what he had in mind. I didn’t have to wait long. He reached up to the lat bar, took a breath, and began to pull down without pulling out of my mouth. His whole upper body exploded 4 inches from my eyes. After a few pull downs and releases, his lats were spread further than I could possibly imagine.
“Suck me hard. Suck me hard, man. I’m lifting these weights just for you, little buddy,” he said breathlessly. I did as he wanted as he did reps on the bar. God what a sight! It was such a turn-on for me to have his thick muscular cock in my mouth as he flexed every huge muscle in his upper torso. He’s so good at making fantasies come true.
He pulled out of my mouth, turned around, and treated me to a series of lat poses, front and back. He is so fuckin’ big. “So what do you think of your muscle god now?” he asked. “You are my Superman. Your strength is unlimited. Every man wants you for their own. You will be the next Mr. Olympia. You will have even more fans lusting to feel and fuck your massive body…each an every hard, steel-like muscle,” I sputtered enthusiastically.
His thick cock was still standing up straight as he posed. It, too, is muscular, veiny, and packed with ridges running its amazing length.
Next, he laid down on the bench, still hard as hell. He told me to go get my lube. When I came back, he told me to get up on top of him and straddle his thighs. Of course, my not insignificant dick was hard too. So, we literally crossed cock swords. Touching his cock with my cock was like getting a transfer of instant testosterone…his testosterone. It is always a kind of mystical connection, an exchange of manhood and masculine energy. I know he knows that I think something special is being given to me by him.
I drizzled some lube on his cock head and put some on my hand. I just knew my job was to bring him to an orgasm. I grabbed his shaft and began to slowly pump, all the way up and down, going up and over and squeezing his big cock head. He maneuvered his feet behind two pads at the end of the bench and began some incredible leg lifts with me sitting on his thighs. I could feel the muscles strain and bulge underneath me as I pumped his cock as hard as I could.
Holy shit! He was working out his legs while his cock was being serviced by me. At the same time, his whole upper body was filled with huge muscles moving back and forth. I varied the speed of my pumping his cock with squeezing. He groaned but didn’t stop the leg lifts. I was working up a sweat. My right arm started to ache. I put some more lube on him and kept going. And he kept going. Pretty soon he started to take some intermittent breaths.
I could tell he was building, getting ready to explode his cum all over us. Then it happened. While he was still doing the lifts, his cum surged out of his cock and shot all over my hands, arms, and his abs. He let out some low guttural screams. Then he started breathing very fast and very shallow. And he kept right on with the leg lifts. And then he gasped some air and another volley of cum spurted out. His cum is especially white and very warm. His breathing slowed and he stopped the lifts. His whole body just relaxed completely.
“Christ, Tim, you are so damn good at this. I feel such incredible power and strength when I work my muscles and you help me cum at the same time. It’s so much better than doing it alone,” he sighed. “As I’ve said before, there is a one to one connection between flexing and orgasm,” he added. “I feel so powerful, filled with unlimited power, so turned on, when we do this together. It’s almost better than fucking.” I was speechless, keeping my hands around his warm cock and just feeling his warm man-seed on my arm and hands.
After I dragged myself off his thighs, reluctantly, he got up and we went to the bathroom and cleaned each other off. We were both ready for bed. I crawled in first and felt almost lost in this king bed. He followed me and wrapped his pumped arms around me and we spooned. He pulled the covers up around me and tucked them in close. He let me know he was there by flexing his cock against my back-side. That is such a reassuring thing for him to do with me. As I drifted off to sleep, I started to wonder what it was going to be like with this other muscle god, Ken, tomorrow.
Feedback welcomed. No flames please
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