Cratus' Coots 4: Old Man Jasper

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Would it surprise anyone to learn that Jasper served during the Korean Conflict? True enough – Navy, on an aircraft carrier well off the coast that supported bombing runs with a fleet of sorties that flew over a hundred missions. Not that Jasper saw any of that action, himself – he was the cook assigned to the Officer’s Mess – but that didn’t stop him in his story-telling. To hear him tell it, it seemed he was only a short-order cook as a cover for his glamorous career as a fly-boy.

Would you believe Jasper was at the Stonewall bar the night of the infamous raid and riots in ’69? Yup, all true. He and his trick had just left the place and were about halfway up the block when the cops lit it up – they ran like hell. Of course, to hear Jasper tell it, he’d been one of the men inside getting beaten and hauled out to jail, only to escape by his cunning and wit.

Did he really throw a rock at Anita Bryant? Was he ever honestly admitted to Studio 54? Probably not – but most people forgive an old man his stories if they’re remotely entertaining. And Jasper was a master (at storytelling). Of course, the older he got, the less charming he became. At fifty, he felt nearly invisible in a community obsessed with youth, at seventy, he might as well have been on another planet – charming stories or not.

Jasper had had some looks when he was young, a redhead, though for that he’d never stand out in a crowd. He was thin, which suited the Navy well, with strong arms. Like most of his comrades, he had tattoos lining his forearms – ink from exotic ports of call made better stories, after all. And Jasper wanted everyone to know he was butch – and liked to take it up the ass.

No, seriously, he loved getting fucked – well… he loved cock – big, small, thick, thin, cut, uncut, white, black, brown, it didn’t matter. Inside, outside, toilet stall, bush, parking lot, truck stop, gay bar, straight bar, locker room, jail cell, the more dangerous, the better. For Jasper, taking another man’s cock was pleasure, bringing him to orgasm was power.

No exaggeration – hundreds of men – one might make a case for thousands, but no one wants to stretch credibility. Not when talking about Jasper. How much cum? How much piss? In his mouth, up his ass, how many gallon jugs? How many oil drums?

That he side-stepped AIDS was nothing short of winning the lottery. Even he knew that. Of course, he wasn’t so lucky with prostate cancer. After the operation, and the painful recovery period, and the two infections, Jasper hadn’t gotten fucked since the late 80’s (which was the early 60’s for Jasper).

And the older he got, the more invisible he became. It broke his heart – and his spirit. For Jasper, a life without sex was a countdown to death.

Unfortunately, his body was a long time dying. Twenty years after the cancer and he was still treading water, slowly but surely falling apart, but never actually taking the plunge. Sagging and shuffling and shrinking and weakening, it was almost a race to see what could fail first.

The VA connected him with Cratus. They were interested in Cratus’ studies with growth hormone on the effects of aging and Jasper fit the profile of likely candidates. When his doctor told him about it, Jasper figured, what the hell, he had nothing to lose – if the Pentagon wanted to waste money on this sort of nonsense, it meant no nevermind to Jasper.

At that point, he was living in a Veteren’s Nursing Home where the only thing he had going for him was a private room – a hellish existence. At first, he resented the nurse waking him at 4 in the AM to put that tiny little needle in his belly; but then, about two weeks into it, right after the shot, something happened that hadn’t in years – his cock got hard.

And not the half-woodies that passed for erections at the best of times in his waning senior years – no, a full-fledged hard-on. Wood. Nothing about Jasper had been that firm fordecades. He marveled at it, almost afraid to touch it, less he mess it up, but as soon as he put his hand on it, waves of pleasure such as he hadn’t felt in years shot through him. (He worried that it might be too much for his heart, but he figured, “What a great way to go!”)

Masturbation was like riding a bike and Jasper had himself popping wheelies in a matter of minutes. He was having so much fun, he was almost disappointed when the orgasm came. Almost.

Fortunately, his heart enjoyed it, too – the stimulation, that is. Little did Jasper realize the importance of regular sexual release in the overall scheme of life. In keeping one young.

And if there was one thing old men liked, it was regularity. Jasper started anticipating that 4am shot, waking up to discover himself half-hard in anticipation, bitching at the nurse if she were even a minute late. He would have his cock in his hand before she was even out of the room.

Better yet, the feeling didn’t go away after one orgasm. Jasper started to feel a sort of horny undercurrent all day long – it energized him. He was up and about more frequently, almost restless. He started exercising with the Mall-Walkers in the morning, not really walking with anybody, definitely not taking advantage of the social aspects of the group, but happy for the freedom, even if only for a while.

After the first month, he was able to ditch his aluminum walker. The PT at the nursing home said the exercise was making him stronger. Whatever – he knew the real power was coming from his balls.

Though – and this should not shame his balls in any way – he could really go for some cock – it was almost as if he were hungry for it . The pickin’s around the home were pretty slim, though. That was what really motivated him to join the “Y” – the prospect of younger cock.

A little shuttle dropped them off every morning and he could wander naked around the locker room, or sit in the sauna, or – God forbid – actually exercise. Jasper had never been much of a gym bunny – that fad came along long after Jasper had peaked – but he did like his biceps curls. He’d done those almost obsessively as a youth, the only weight-lifting he’d ever enjoyed – with his big biceps and his pert, bubble ass, he was a hot little number in his sea-togs – so he naturally gravitated to them again.

He was horrified to discover he could only curl the five-pound dumbbells. He kept trying to remind himself that he was over eighty years old and he was lucky to be standing here at all, but he was still disappointed at his lack of strength. That didn’t stop him from getting a hard-on while he was lifting, though.

It didn’t let up. His body kept changing, more and more rapidly, it seemed to him. In his third month, he stopped looking so saggy, like skin hanging on a bone frame, and maybe that was why he finally got some cock.

He was in the sauna when this big guy came in, mid-thirties – a guy Jasper had seen working out with a woman Jasper supposed was the guy’s wife. He was the kind of straight guy that liked gay guys looking at him – Jasper had seen that enough times – he loved straight guys with gay egos. He sat down opposite Jasper, looking up to make sure Jasper was looking, and he started flexing for himself, feeling the slopes of his pecs and the roundedness of his lower abs. It wasn’t long before he was toying with his cock, too.

Jasper couldn’t believe his luck!

“Do you mind?” the guy said in a plain, friendly kind of way. “I like being watched.”

Jasper didn’t mind. He liked watching.

The guy didn’t have a big dick, but it was the first rod Jasper had seen live in a couple decades, so he appreciated it for what it was. The guy was working it hard, stroking his pecs lovingly with his free hand, watching Jasper watch. “You like it, old man?” he grumbled. “You like watching a big buck in his prime?”

“Want me to suck it?” Jasper croaked, playing with his own. “I promise my mouth’ll be softer than your wife’s pussy.”

“Fuck no, old man,” the big guy said. “I’m no fag. You’re lucky I’m even lettin’ you watch.”

Jasper shrugged. “Your loss.”

The big guy snorted, squeezing his own balls. “You think?”

“Son, do you have any idea how many years of experience I’ve had suckin’ dick? How many decades? How many dicks? What makes you think yours is so different?”

The big guy looked at him with this contemplative look on his face. “All right, old man. You’re on. Show me what an experienced cocksucker can do.”

Jasper showed him all right. Jasper showed him shit that his straight boy cock had never felt before – what it was like to get worshipped by someone who knew what it was like to have a cock himself – what man-to-man pleasure was. Jasper had nearly forgotten what a joy it was to have a dick in his mouth, that taste, that pulsing life.

The big guy came much sooner than Jasper had hoped – Jasper had been ready to savor the moment, but instead his mouth was suddenly filled with the savory reward of experience (and possibly no teeth). Still, Jasper greedily swallowed every drop.

“Damn, old man. You weren’t fuckin’ kiddin’. You got a great mouth.”

Jasper snorted himself, slowly working himself to his feet. “I used to be able to do a lot more than that,” he joked, turning back to his own seat. The big guy stood naked before him and flexed while Jasper beat off – Jasper was just about to lick the guy’s biceps when he finally shot. An orgasm even bigger than the big guy’s.

“Damn, old man. Plenty of juice in you.”

Jasper laughed, gasping. “Yours is in me now, too.”

And, as if the cum were an active agent, Jasper made an obvious leap in his rejuvenation. When he looked at himself in the mirror the next morning, he looked different – tighter. Like he had about a decade ago. What was this shit doing to him? It was like it was making him younger…

In just a couple months, he became the old man with the really good body. A few months after that, he became the old man with the amazing body. And he barely did anything other than biceps curls! (And cock-sucking, he thought to himself. Don’t forget the cocksucking! That’s the secret sauce!)

For the price of a blowjob, he had a boy from the “Y” pretend to be his grandson and sign him out of the home at night, so he could go to the bars. At the leather bar, there was plenty of cock to be had – and Jasper was more than happy to cruise out on the dark patio and suck off as many guys as wanted it. Line forms here, gentlemen! As much as he loved it, he knew the cum was making him young, too. It was the best of both worlds.

He was becoming a bit of a challenge at the home. More than once, they’d found him exposing himself to the other residents, showing off erections to small groups of men, trying to engage in oral sex with interns and male nurses (one or two times, according to the gossip, he’d succeeded – and rumor had it he was quite good). So when the letter came in from Cratus’ Clinic requesting him to participate in a six month study in Central America, the VA saw it as a way to remove what was becoming a bit of a nuisance. They happily signed the papers.

Jasper had developed the same ageless look as the others at the clinic, but he was clearly older than them – he looked sixty-ish to their forty-ish – and none of them had the slightest bit of interest in him, sexual or otherwise. Even here, he thought. Even here gays practice ageism.

He liked the young guys – and even here, “young” literally meant in their forties – Cameron and Gregg. Both were pleasant and kind to him, but neither one wanted anything from him – and it seemed like Gregg was willing to have sex with anybody who wanted it, horny little goat (kind of reminded Jasper of himself as a young man, back when he had a prostate). Many times, he would lay in bed and listen to the two of them pounding away for hours in the next room – he masturbated dreaming of getting fucked like that himself. How much he used to love it.

The wrestler guy, “Ravishing Rick,” he was a prick. A hot fucker of a prick, too. Jasper remembered watching him in the ‘80’s, when he was on the pro-wrestling circuit, flexing his abs and wagging his hips to make the… ladies go wild. He was even better now. No bodyfat anywhere – just strand after strand of mind-blowing definition and deep, impossible cuts. Rick’s huge shoulders and thick traps tapered down to this tiny tight waist, his abs rock solid and over-developed, trenches in the shape of an eight-pack.

His legs were solid, big but not dominant, striated and shapely, but they were nothing but a frame for his cock, anyway. He’d been hung for bear even in his wrestling days – how he’d kept that monster under control during matches was anybody’s guess – but now, after a couple months on Cratus’ super-sauce, Rick’s cock had grown into something that Jasper had only seen in Tom of Finland drawings. It’s not enough to say it was bigger, bordering on ridiculous, but his whole package looked like it was taken from a disproportionately large giant and grafted onto the wrestler’s body.

It was freaky and gorgeous and scary and fascinating all at the same time. And that he paraded it around in the skimpiest of nothings – thongs and posers and erotic-wear by the score – he changed little outfits ten times a day, each one sexier than the last. Each designed to show off that impossible package to its fullest.

And then, even when Jasper had gone so far as to volunteer to suck it, Rick rebuked him. No offense, the wrestler had said, but I’m looking for somebody a little… younger than you. I don’t DO granddads – I rarely even do DADS…

Jasper wished him luck finding a boy who could take THAT cock!

Then there was the big black guy, Daman. His cock was easily on par with Rick’s, perhaps even bigger, but Daman was so monstrously thick all over that his beast of a cock seemed more in proportion. Both of Rick’s legs could fit in one of Daman’s, that’s how thick. Daman had long since broken three-hundred pounds and Cratus had projected him to over three-fifty. Jasper couldn’t believe such a thing possible.

On the other hand, Cratus had promised to make Jasper young again – but if he could do the impossible with Daman, he could do it with Jasper, too, right?

All the other guys were changing, even to the casual observer, but Jasper had plateaued. He wasn’t getting more muscular, he wasn’t getting a bigger cock – he felt something… tingling inside himself sometimes, but he dismissed it as imagination – but he sure was horny. Horny like a boy.

And then one morning, after his four-thirty booster (now almost ten times the amount he got in the home), while waiting for the irresistible need to masturbate, he got up and went to the common-area kitchen, puttering around making coffee when Daman came downstairs from the gym. The big man was soaked with sweat, dressed only in that singlet he always wore, the straps pulled down. His cock was not easily contained and the crotch area was dripping with cum – Jasper wanted that more than cream in his coffee.

Daman was always nice to him, never condescending or disrespectful. Even now, with his crotch soaked in jism, he was polite. “Mornin’, Jazz. You up early.”

“I’m an old man,” Jasper said, scooping up the coffee, but blatantly staring at Daman’s cock. “Old men are always up early. You want some coffee, or some breakfast?”

The huge man smiled a bit shyly, indicating his wet stain with a weak gesture. “I might cook me up a dozen or so eggs after I get cleaned up.”

Jasper smiled. “Morning shot makes me horny, too.” He was flirty, and half erect himself, and brimming with this morning’s amp, so he added, “If you want, I’ll clean you up myself.” Playfully, he licked his lips.

And then, for the small price of some scrambled eggs, Daman allowed Jasper to suck his magnificent cock. As far as Jasper was concerned, his whole career as a short-order cook had led to that moment. He’d never seen a cock the size of Daman’s – and for all the thousands of cocks Jasper had seen in his life, that was saying something – certainly never taken anything that big made out of flesh, before. As a matter of fact, there was a fleeting instant where Jasper wished it were possible to take it up the ass. (Damn you, prostate!)

It was enough to have it in his mouth. Sure, it was work, but he could manage it – he hadn’t spent decades suppressing his gag reflex for nothing. Still, it filled him completely, so he had to be careful to breathe through his nose.

God damn, what a nice cock! Thick and smooth to the root, where Jasper could bury his nose in the very small amount of hair there and still feel the head deep in the back of his throat. He loved Daman’s smell, and taste, and texture, too – so smooth, like silk across the gums. It didn’t take long for Jasper to discover a rhythm, bobbing his head up and down to an unheard up-tempo. He could feel Daman’s ball hitch up as he stroked them – the big man was gonna cum soon.

Jasper wanted it, bad – it was the first cum (aside from his own) that he’d scored since arriving in Central America and it was from the biggest and hottest man here! He was over-anxious and over-horny and began bobbing faster and faster on the fleshy pole, letting all the smooth, soft textures of his mouth slide along, swirling the rim of the head with his tongue before plunging back down again. Wet and hard and wonderful.

Time melted away – Jasper was a kid again! A hungry, horny, uninhibited kid given the greatest plaything in the world. He was almost sorry that Daman was about to shoot – although he was starved for the product.

What surprised him was his own orgasm, sneeking in unexpectedly when Daman’s salty cum filled his mouth. But this was unlike any orgasm he’d had before – the intensity was greater than anything he’d experienced. It spread from his groin like a bomb going off, radiating its power out in waves. Jasper’s whole body was caught in the throes of the orgasm – it felt so good, even as he choked on Daman’s prodigious jizz.

But something was wrong – at first, it was difficult to separate the bliss of the climax from the alarm in his chest. It was almost like his heart climaxed, too – and hadn’t restarted. Suddenly, the ecstacy turned into panic as he felt the weight of the world on his lungs. “My heart…” he mumbled, clutching at himself, confused – this couldn’t be right, he was on Cratus’ magic formula. He looked at Daman, that handsome, huge beast and collapsed, passing out with the salty taste of cum in his mouth.

His last thoughts were about having sucked the biggest cock in the world, at least, and he could die a happy man – maybe even have this flavor on his tongue for all eternity…

And then, there was darkness.

And that was the last time anybody saw Old Jasper.

Now Cratus, for his part, not only assured them that Jasper was fine, but addressed their real fears – that something would happen to THEM, too! That there was more of a risk here than Cratus had let on.

“He’s in his early eighties,” Cratus explained. “The regeneration process has seemingly taken longer in him because there was so much work to do on internal organs. As his circulatory and nervous systems regenerate and stabilize, we suspected there might be some reaction like this. It’s nothing to worry about – he’ll be up and about annoying you all again within a week, ten days, tops.”

But two weeks later, there was still no sign of Jasper.

They were all changing rapidly now, growing – “Evolving,” Cratus said. “You five are the future of mankind!” – and they were all so swept up in the way it felt, they had trouble focusing on anything BUT themselves. The flow of time became a background element – and Jasper was easily forgotten.

Daman was 368 pounds of rock-solid muscle and Cameron was right behind him at 345. However close in weight, their builds couldn’t have been any different. Daman was clearly a powerlifter, thick bones and deep muscle, a comic-book Hulk (or Juggarnaut, if you will), while Cameron was all bodybuilding, sculpted muscle with deep cuts and classical aesthetic. The two of them trained nearly twelve hours a day together. They both loved to throw around the big weights – they had that mentality.

Rick and Gregg had developed the same obsessiveness, but trained alone. The exception to that was when they competed over abs, and those contests could get ugly, going on for hours as they tried to out-do each other. Of course, Gregg wasn’t hard-core muscle, nor did he come from a background of professional athletics. To him, the gym had always been a means to an end – if he worked out, he had a better body and a better body had a better chance at sex with a better body. It was really that simple.

Sure, Gregg was a big guy – and the youngest, at 45 – who was looking more and more like the ultimate COLT model every damn day, at two-hundred thirty pounds of sexy, hairy muscle. Gregg was the only one of them NOT to have gray hair – receding to the point of retreat, yes, but not gray! But again, Gregg was a model, not an athlete, so he only expressed his aggression during sex, not workouts.

And Gregg loved sex – he never tired of it. For all of Daman’s obsession with power-lifting, Cam’s obsession with bodybuilding, and Rick’s obsession with getting ripped and striated, Gregg obsession seemed to be sex. He’d always considered himself versatile, but it had been a long time since he’d topped – only Cameron, only once, and it hadn’t been as easy as he’d thought it would be – and that had been two months ago. Since then, his ass had gotten pounded multiple times by ALL of these guys – he’d really have to stop with the versatile-nonsense.

Rick was a good fuck. Sure, he was a little too self-obsessed to be a great partner, but he had a dick that didn’t stop. He had better abs, too – simple genetics there – better shape, deeper grooves, and these tiny little hips, helping with the illusion. He had crap for legs – Cameron busted on him all the time (He called them “porn-star legs.”), and even Daman would give him quiet little jabs – but Rick claimed as a wrestler, he didn’t NEED legs. They were just fine as they were. It’s not like they weren’t sexy – Cam called them “porn-star” legs, after all.

Besides, once they got a look at Ravishing Rick’s cock beneath his wrestling tights, it wasn’t like they were gonna look anyplace else – even his abs formed a natural arrow to it. “Just like in the old days,” he’d say to them, flexing his rack and pointing it out. Second only to that log that Daman called a dick, Rick’s cock won out in aesthetic (in Rick’s opinion). A long, thick shaft with a flared head, Rick’s was the kind of cock boys WANTED to take, not CHALLENGED to take like when faced with Daman’s. Aside from Gregg, only the most methed-out size queens would be able to take Daman. In Rick’s humble opinion, there was no future for a boring man blessed with a log.

Rick would never have been able to take it, that’s for sure. Of course, the only cock he’d taken lately had been Cratus’ – and Rick suspected that Cratus had done something to him that had made Cratus’ cock the most amazing thing Rick had ever felt in his life. Of course, as Rick got bigger and bigger, Cratus was beating him less and less often on the wrestling mats.

Sometimes, Rick had to let him win.

Still, as good as Cratus made him feel, Rick still missed his boys. Sure, these men here at the clinic were perfect specimens of mature masculinity and each painfully hot in his own way, but they were still too far on the older side of Rick’s sexual taste. He liked his twenty-something hairless pretty boys with their smooth, tight asses and their… naïve enthusiasm.

Well, they had a month left here at the clinic, he figured, and then they’d be back in the real world. Regardless of his… relationship with Cratus – and Rick truly didn’t know what his relationship with the good Doctor really was – he’d at least be around young guys again (and no doubt fucking many of them right soon thereafter).

He woke this morning half-dreaming and half-fantasizing about some bubbly-smooth boy-butt when the 4am-intern quietly entered with Rick’s daily amp. Rick made no effort to hide his hard cock as the boy approached – he had no shame, quite the opposite, in fact. He loved to show it off to whomever wanted to look. The interns weren’t allowed to engage with the “test subjects” – most of them were too afraid, anyway. It’s like Cratus went out of his way to hire the straightest, plainest, most uninteresting interns he could find. (It’s like he knew Rick’s temptations.)

But when today’s intern turned on the little bedside night light, Rick got a surprise. Even in the dim light, the kid’s beauty was obvious. Strong, handsome features topped by a shock of red hair – cut in a bit of an old-fashioned haircut, long on top and short on the sides – highlighting a sparkle of innocence crossed with mischievousness in his bright green eyes. And the body was spectacular, especially for an intern. A tight, muscular torso in a too-tight olive wife-beater, with strong arms and shoulders. He was built like a gymnast, or a wrestler (and not the kind of “wrestler” that Rick was, the “real” kind).

“Damn, you’re a hot one,” Rick mumbled, pulling the sheet down and exposing his abs, his magnificent, irresistible eight-pack.

“Think so?” the kid said, a curl of a smile on the corner of his mouth. He pulled Rick’s pre-loaded amp and an alcohol swab out of his small kit. “Want me to do this for you or you wanna do it yourself?”

Rick put his hands behind his head, arching his back slightly and stretching his torso – his cock pushed out beneath the sheet. “You do it,” Rick purred.

The kid glanced at the head of Rick’s magnificent cock but largely ignored it, sitting on the edge of the bed and going about his business, tearing open the swab and wiping down the tiny needle. Even in this boring, tedious moment, the boy’s beauty shone – Rick noticed a couple of tattoos on the kid’s arms for the first time. There was something familiar…

“You ain’t got much skin to get under,” the boy said, trying to pinch anything on Rick’s abs. The boy’s touch made Rick’s cock twitch – God, it HAD been a while, hadn’t it?

“Almost nothing,” Rick said, flexing hard for the boy, but keeping a dead-calm face. “Have you ever seen abs like these?”

“Oh, you hot all right,” the boy said, painlessly slipping the needle under Rick’s skin and injecting the contents. Rick could feel the rush almost immediately. “But I don’t think…”

“Don’t tell me about the rules,” Rick said. “Fuck the rules. Look at this cock – what does it care for rules?”

The kid smiled. “You want me to suck your cock?” he asked, re-capping the used syringe and putting back in his kit. “Really? You think I’m hot enough to suck your cock?”

Rick chuckled, pulling the sheet back and revealing his magnificence for the boy to see in full. “The honor’s all yours, hot boy. Go to it.”

The boy snorted and stood suddenly. “Nah,” he said. “I don’t think so.”

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” Rick hollered, sitting up in bed. “You’re turning THIS down?”

“Ain’t no reason to get all worked up, grandpa,” the boy said, turning by the door so Rick could see his pert, bubble ass. “You know who you shoulda got a blowjob from? That old guy what used to be here – that guy Jasper – HE could suck a dick. You ever been sucked off by a guy with no teeth? He was frackin’ awesome!”

Something about this conversation, the rhythm of the exchange, Rick couldn’t put his finger on it. It was familiar.

“Who are you, boy? How do you know Jasper? You his grandson or something?”

The boy chuckled a little under his breath. “Nah,” he said. “I’m just some kid you think’s hot enough to give you a blowjob. Don’t that make me the cat’s meow? Now I got more shots t’ give, so I’ll see you around.” With that, the kid slipped out the door, leaving Rick alone with his ravishing, irrisitible rod and blue balls.

Daman was in a similar circumstance – not the blue balls, mind you, but the ever-present erection. Like a dog waiting on its dinner, Daman’s cock was impatient for its morning amp. Dressed only in a pair of ratty old bikini briefs, Daman lay on the flat bench, 495 on the bar, five plates on each side. He was hoping to get this set in before the intern showed up.

As he un-racked the weight, he heard the kid on the stairs. Daman easily repped out eight before the kid had even entered the room. Then, for effect, he repped out eight more, until he heard the kid’s audible gasp – secretly, Daman loved impressing these boys. It kind of turned him on (like everything did these days). He was anxious to get back to work and see what his defensive line thought of him now.

But it was Daman who gasped when he looked up and saw the hot little redhead standing at the top of the stairs. The well-built twenty-something could easily have played on Daman’s team – he looked spunky and tough – hot tattoos on his forearms – not the usual lot of intern they’d had for the last five months. Where had THIS hot little number come from?

“Damn…” Daman said as the boy said, “You’re even BIGGER!” which confused the big man – maybe he hadn’t heard the boy right. “What’d you say?” he asked.

“What do you weigh?” the boy responded. His interest was obvious – even Daman could see the boy getting hard beneath his tight cargo shorts. Nice cock.

“Three sixty-eight,” Daman said, sitting up. “And your boss says I still haven’t plateaued.”

“My boss…?”


The boy nodded. “Oh, right. I ain’t never thought of him that way. I reckon he’s just as much your boss, too. I mean, you’re gonna be workin’ for him after this, ain’t ya? Representin’ – goin’ to workshops ‘n expos – makin’ appearences. Stuff like that.”

Daman shrugged – and that’s no small gesture considering the size of his traps. “I suppose,” he said. “But when did he go and hire such hot interns? I thought he was tryin’ to make it easier for us to keep hands off.”

“There’s no hands-off rule that I ever heard of,” the intern said, approaching the huge muscleman sitting on the bench. The boy made no effort to hide his hard-on, so Daman made no effort to hide HIS… growing interest. “Otherwise, how am I gonna give you your morning boost?”

The kid stood very close to Daman and opened his kit, removing the intended amp, then knelt very casually between Daman’s legs. He struggled a second trying to figure out a good injections site, so Daman made it easier and stood himself, straddling the end of the bench – his half-hard cock, which already stretched halfway across his hip, fighting the weak elastic band of Daman’s briefs, was right in the kid’s face.

The boy had difficulty catching his breath, he was so stunned. “This is the part where you get hands on,” Daman said, smirking. He and the boy made eye contact, those dancing green eyes so deep, ageless – beautiful – and clearly lustful. Kneeling there, the intern wiped down the syringe then wiped down a patch at the base of Daman’s solid roidgut – there was no fat there, so the boy had to pinch some skin. Even as the kid’s hand touched him, Daman’s cock responded – as the kid injected the amp, Daman’s cock broke free of its cotton prison, poking up over the elastic band.

“You like gettin’ your shot,” the boy half-joked, licking his lips as he looked at Daman’s massive purple head.

“I bet you know what I really like,” Daman said, putting his hand gently on the back of the boy’s head.

The boy glanced up at him again, smiled, and as soon as he’d emptied the syringe, he took Daman’s cock in his mouth, slurping the head like a giant lollypop. Leaving the ratty briefs in place, he grabbed Daman’s hefty balls with both hands and gently pulled them down as he easily took Daman’s cock all the way to the root, the head of it deep in his throat. And the boy had technique – familiar technique…

But it wasn’t until they made eye-contact again that Daman put it all together – bright green eyes, Navy tattoos, incredible blow jobs.

“Jasper?” he asked quietly. “Is that you, Jazz?”

The boy pulled the dick out of his mouth and wagging it said, smiling, “Aww, what gave me away?”

“Not many twenty year-olds can take a fourteen inch dick to the root. Not and make it feel like that. How…? What happened?”

“Rejuvenated. Same as you.” The Young Jasper continued to play with Daman’s cock, licking it and stroking it as he spoke. “But instead of becoming some comic book Juggarnaut, or some Olympia-level bodybuilder, I got my youth back. And not just my youth – the youth I never had! Lay back on the bench – let me show you!”

And Daman lay his mass down as if he were about to do a set – his cock stuck up in the air like a fourteen inch flagpole. Young Jasper stepped up to Daman’s side, dropped his cargo shorts (revealing a well-developed, perfectly smooth boy package all his own) and swung his leg over, like he were mounting a bike. He sat on the base of Daman’s roidgut and could feel the head of Daman’s cock in the lower back. Holding on to the bar for balance, Young Jasper stood on the bench, one foot on either side of Daman’s wide torso and prepared himself to sit on Daman’s big rod.

“You gonna be able to do this?” Daman asked, covering Jasper’s smooth young hands on the bar with his own big paws.

“I told you, I’m regenerated. It’s like I never had the operation at all!” And Daman, who’d had a similar experience with his knee surgery, accepted that easily enough. “I tell you, big man, I got a prostate again! And a new, hot young hole to go with it.” And with that, he lowered himself onto Daman’s oversized cock.

Now, Daman had had his fair share of guys through his life – of course, that was when his cock was less than a foot long. Since then, he’d only fucked Gregg a couple of times. Now, Gregg was a good fuck, don’t misunderstand, but Jasper had the tightest ass Daman had ever felt! It squeezed over his cock like a sausage casing, but so slick and soft that Daman was worried about cumming before he was all the way in.

Jasper moaned and rolled his head as he descended on Daman’s pole. “I ain’t felt nothin’ like this in near forty years!” he said, panting, inserting more – moaning again. “Holy fuck, do I got time to make up for…”

And then, the beautiful, tightly muscled Young Jasper was sitting on Daman’s hips, that fourteen inches completely inside him. They made eye contact – bright ageless eyes connecting with bright ageless eyes – and then Jasper began slowly fucking himself on Daman’s cock. They moaned simultaneously.

“So tight…” Daman growled. He started shifting his hips beneath the boy’s assault.

“Do your set,” Jasper grunted. “Work out while you fuck me. Lemme feel them muscles grow!” He took his hands off the bar and laid them flat on Daman’s massive pecs.

For Daman, working out while having sex, or even having sex while working out, was such a deeply ingrained, long-held fantasy that he was more than eager to go for it. Sure, he and Cameron did mutual worship while they worked out, flexing, often jerking off together, but he’d never fucked while lifting. Anxiously, he gripped the bar.

There was 495 pounds on it, remember – five plates per side. Yet, Daman moved it as if it weighed nearly nothing. With the blood flowing, it felt like his penis was getting pumped as well as his pecs – Daman repped out an easy ten, flexing at the top of each for Jasper to feel his rock-hard muscle. Jasper rode him like a bronco, holding a pec in each hand, pressing his thumbs into Daman’s tight little nipples. Daman moaned.

“Gonna cum, boy,” he mumbled, pushing out another rep. At the top, he flexed hard at the same instant as Jasper squeezed his sphincter – Daman shot.

As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t maintain the flex during the orgasm, so he had to rack the weight. Still, holding the bar while he continued to dump his load into Jasper was hot – it went on for nearly a minute, blinding in its intensity. Unquestionably the best orgasm of his life. And it didn’t kill Jasper this time.

For his part, Jasper kept Daman’s cock inside him as he jerked himself off, using his newly regenerated anal muscles to keep the man’s big rod crushing into his newly regenerated prostate. He was young again, in a body that was better than his body had ever been, yet still his body. Youth was so much better the second time around.

When he finally shot, it hit Daman in the face, that’s how powerful it was. Streams of Jasper’s jizz coated Daman’s massive torso like milky rivers on a muscular landscape – he just kept cumming and cumming. Finally, panting, he leaned forward against Daman, still keeping Daman’s dick inside. Jasper exhaled sharply, the sweat dripping from his brow. “Been a while,” he panted, smiling. “But I think we’re both ready to go again.” He felt Daman’s cock twitch inside him.

Just then, from behind them on the stairs, they heard a sound. Daman sat part-way up, careful to not break contact with Jasper, who turned around while still straddling Daman. They turned in time to see Ravishing Rick blow a load while he watched them, pounding his big dick with both hands. “Don’t stop on my account,” he panted. “The view from this angle’s amazing!”

Daman smiled. “Rick, you remember Jasper, don’t you?”

“Sure he does,” Jasper said, patting Daman’s roidgut. “He was the guy said I wa’n’t good enough to suck his dick. I s’pose I am, now.”

“Jasper?” Rick asked, staring incredulously.

“Yeah, you guys all thought I was dead, thanks very much, ya bunch o’ asswipes. I’m in there a month – does anyone come see me? Ask about me? Assholes.”

“Cratus wouldn’t let us,” Daman said. “Said you were regenerating vital organs – that’s what made you collapse.”

“Sure did – heart, brain, nervous system… prostate! – but look at me NOW! I’m fuckin’ unbelievable! I’m young again!”

Rick still didn’t buy it, no matter how attracted his dick was to it. “How…?” he asked.

“My rejuvenation’s complete!” Jasper trumpeted, bobbing himself up and down on Daman. “I was given the final treatment compound yesterday – and look at me now!”

“’Final treatment compound’…?”

“Yeah,” said Jasper, beginning to ride Daman in earnest. “The one that’s gonna keep me young and lookin’ like this forever! The one that’s gonna make my body heal no matter what I do to it. The one that’ll keep me a virgin no matter how many cocks fuck me! That’s why Cratus let me give you guys yer shots this mornin’ – so’s I could tell tell ya.”

“Tell us what?”

“Today’s the day we become IMMORTAL!”

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