Made for Each Other 8
by Richard Jasper
And then it was Christmas…Tucker Shaw looked up at the mountain range in front of him. With his hands on Blake Porter’s narrow hips, his mouth struggling with Blake’s 16-inch cock, all Tucker could see was muscle, huge, dense, thick, incredibly hard muscle. Blake’s magnificent torso loomed over him like an aircraft carrier over a dinghy or Mount Everest over the Catskills’ gently rounded hills.
Blake was now nearly as wide as he was tall, packing an insane 550 lbs. of muscle on his 6 foot 3 inch frame. He outweighed Tucker, who had managed to pack on another 10 lbs. and at 245 lbs. was the heaviest he’d ever been, by 300 lbs.!
Tucker’s ass was impaled on Chad Bennett’s mind-blowing 18-inch cock.
Staring at the pecs jutting out a good 10 inches over Blake’s boulder-sized abs, Tucker wiggled his butt, causing Chad to groan with pleasure.
As a special treat – a Christmas present, in fact – Blake and Chad had invited Tucker to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at their place, the first time they’d actually had sex with the little man at some place other than Suzie’s.
“Are you sure Suzie won’t mind?” Blake had asked when Tucker all but suggested it.
Tucker just laughed.
“It was her idea, silly,” he said. “She’s going to be too busy getting the house ready for the wedding.”
About that…
Chad had had a long heart to heart with Suzie the week after Thanksgiving.
“Are you sure…?”
Suzie nodded vigorously.
“What you don’t understand is that YOU are the only men on Earth he’s interested in,” she explained.
“All the rest of the time he’s totally into women and, more precisely, totally into me! Before Halloween, being in bed with Tucker was meh at best. Since then I’ve been having the best sex of my life!”
Chad just blinked.
Well, she always did say the only thing he needed was to get fucked by someone hotter than he was.
And he and Blake were certainly that.
Since Thanksgiving Chad, for the first time, had nearly kept up with Blake’s muscle growth, gaining 4 lbs. a day to Blake’s 5 lbs. a day. At 6’2 and 400 lbs., Chad outweighed mass monsters like Derek Poundstone and Gabe Moen by 50 or 60 lbs., and unlike them he had a freakishly low 3% body fat ratio!
All of which Chad recalled as he was busily pounding Tucker’s squat butt like a piece of concrete with his jackhammer cock.
“OK, time for something different,” he declared, returning to the moment.
He pulled Tucker off Blake’s dick, cradled Tucker’s head and shoulders with his 34-inch upper arms, and swung around so that his massive bubble butt was pointing at Blake.
“I’m ready for the Love Train, babe!”
With a whoooompf that shook the house, Blake picked up Chad with Tucker still grinding Chad’s 18-inch crowbar. Together the two of them weighed nearly 650 lbs., only a hundred pounds more than Blake did, and he handled the two of them like rag dolls, his 60-inch quads bearing all of the weight.
They’d had the bedroom floors specially reinforced for just this moment. Chad didn’t trust the 70-year-old house to manage 1200 lbs. of man-flesh fucking into one spot! He and Blake alone were closing in on half a ton and the last time they’d tried “mid-air fucking,” as Blake called, they dislodged the chandelier in the dining room below!
And all the while, Tucker was singing “Santa Baby…”
They hurried down his chimney that night!
+++++
The service was lovely and Blake and Chad catered the reception themselves, offering it as their wedding present to the happy couple.
They watched, still somewhat puzzled by it all despite Suzie’s explanation, as the newlyweds did the first turn around the dance floor and then were quickly joined by the dance crowd.
“Well, I’ll take Suzie’s word for it,” Blake said. “But don’t you think it’s odd…”
Suddenly the music and the dancers stopped, frozen in mid-step, and the two giant muscle hulks were bathed in a radiant magenta-hued light.
“Oh for heaven’s sake, enough with the ‘don’t you think it’s odd’ already!”
The booming voice – a curious blend of Liberace and George Will – filled the room, seeming to come from all directions at once. Except for Blake and Chad, everyone was oblivious (and still frozen.)
Gulp!
“Uh,” Blake said. “Santa?”
The booming voice tittered, which was in itself an odd effect.
“Uh,” Chad said. “God?”
Suspended above the dance floor on a ray of magenta light, what appeared to be a middle-aged, huskily-built, fuzzy, bespectacled man wearing a cable-knit cardigan peered down at Blake and Chad from the space-age Herman Miller office chair upon which he was perched.
“The name’s McGuffin,” the man said. “Roger McGuffin, and I’m neither God nor Santa Claus, although it seems I do have it in my power, on occasion, to alter reality, especially if I’m bestowing gifts.”
Chad cleared his throat.
“Well, then, now that we know WHO you are, just WHAT are you?”
McGuffin grinned hugely and his eyes twinkled.
“I’m the author, of course!”
Chan and Blake gaped!
“The what?!”
McGuffin rolled his eyes.
“The author, of course,” he said. “The one writing your story. About your improbable muscle growth and all the rest.”
Fortunately, Blake and Chad were both science fiction fans and well-acquainted with the Many Universes theory.
“You mean like Heinlein?” Blake asked.
McGuffin snorted.
“That old egotist!”
Blake started to take umbrage, then thought better of it.
“Well, what about Scalzi?” Chad inquired.
McGuffin chortled.
“Good thing you don’t wear Red Shirts, huh?”
Except for the fact that he weighed 400 lbs. of muscle and his 44-inch quads (the sames size as Blake's biceps, interestingly enough) were so thick his knees couldn’t possibly touch, much less knock, Chad felt a shiver run down his spine.
“C’mon, let’s sit down and talk,” McGuffin said, aiming his floating chair at one of the empty tables in the corner. “Maybe you’ve got something to drink?”
Chad grabbed a bottle of vodka, Blake palmed a liter of cranberry juice, and dodging the still frozen dancers they made there way to the table and sat down with the old coot.
“The fact is,” McGuffin said. “I don’t know how it works. I was just typing away, trying to figure out what comes next, and then here I was suspended over the dance floor…”
Blake and Chad looked at each other.
“So (a) I’m dreaming, or (b) Someone knocked me over the head, or (c) I had a stroke, or (d) The 'Anything That Can Be Imagined Really Could Happen Because There Are a Infinite Number of Universes' theory really does work,” McGuffin concluded. "Personally, I'm hoping it's (d) because (a), (b), and (c) don't bear thinking about!"
Chad handed McGuffin a Cosmo and made one for himself. Blake took the vodka bottle and chugged.
“So what now?” Blake asked, ever practical.
“Are you going to do something bad to us?” Chad inquired, his fists clenching.
“And what about free will?” Blake continued.
McGuffin took a sip of the Cosmo, then set it down.
“Has anything happened that you didn’t want to happen?”
“Did you feel compelled in any way? Were you displeased with the results?”
The inhumanly handsome men looked at each other.
They were bigger than they ever imagined possible and even though Chad had started out saying he “didn’t want to get big” that had lasted all of about five minutes. Every pound of muscle he gained, another pound of muscle he wanted.
Even Tucker…
“Well, what about Tucker and Suzie?” Chad demanded.
McGuffin twiddled his thumbs.
“What about them? They look happy to me!”
Blake put his hand in Chad’s.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m not complaining,” he said, his free hand making a circle that encompassed all of them. “The muscle is more than I ever could have imagined but more than that YOU are more than I ever could have imagined.”
Chad blushed.
“You know I feel the same way,” he agreed.
They looked at McGuffin.
“But do you have POWER over us?” Chad asked.
McGuffin pursed his lips.
“My guess is ‘no,’” he replied. “I think my ‘writing’ your story was just, I dunno, transcription work. I really couldn’t say if the idea became you reality or your reality became my idea.”
He paused and then grinned.
“Does it really matter?”
Blake and Chad looked at each other…and smiled.
“No!” they chorused.
McGuffin nodded.
“As for what’s next, well, that’s up to the two of you,” he continued.
“I don’t have any grand ideas, or a spare rocket shop floating around my imagination, and besides, I’m heading to South America in a couple of days for a two-week cruise. My guess is that the two of you haven’t really given much thought as to what you’re going to do with the two biggest, strongest, most muscular, best-built, handsomest bodies your world has ever seen. Porn, bodybuilding, world domination, the sky's the limit!”
Blake’s and Chad’s eyes flew open.
“And I have it on good authority you’re well-connected with two people who are likely to change the porn industry forever. They just need to get a couple of game-changers on board!”
Chad looked at Blake.
“I think he’s talking about us,” Chad said.
Blake laughed.
“I think he’s talking about the anaconda in your pants!”
Chad blushed.
“Or maybe your mountain-range shoulders? Or the 110-inch chest?”
The music and the dancing resumed and McGuffin slowly faded from view.
When the music stop, Tucker and Suzie came to thank their two best friends for the wonderful catering!
“We have a proposal we’d like the two of you to consider,” Suzie said.
“We think you’ll like it,” Tucker added. "It involves warm weather, working out, and lots of sex!"
A new story was about to begin.
END