My New Pal 13: Finale

Read previous part

Tommy and I got to the powerlifting competition early, but there were already other competitors there. Some of them were helping the staff lay down mats and place the benches, bars, and weights were they had to go. Ken was already there too, helping out, so we went over to him and pitched in our help. Word had gotten out that there was a new kid who was going to challenge the Turk in the superheavyweight division, and I could feel the buzz going around the gymnasium as guys nodded over toward Tommy as they realized that he must be the one. Even in a room filled with big strapping men, Tommy stood out. And when he picked up a weight tree loaded with 100lbs plates and moved it to the other side of the floor, he stood out even more.

It wasn't long before the gym began to fill with more competitors and their buddies and families. I'd never seen so many beefed up guys in one place. Unlike the bodybuilding shows I'd done, where the guys had dieted down to be as tight as possible, these guys were bulked up with power. Even the 'smaller' guys had big thick squat butts and humungous quads for their size. The gym was beginning to smell of testosterone and Sportscreme, as the powerlifters began to warm up with 'light' weights of 225lbs and up. And the buzz about Tommy got even bigger. None of the lifters liked the Turk. He had beaten all the other heavyweights with ease, so none of them could stand him, but even the smaller guys hated him for his arrogant attitude. Some of them had even gotten into scuffles with him, but it always ended badly for them. The Turk was strong and mean. Ken told us that he'd started Turkish oil wrestling when he was 14, and even at that age, was beating full grown men with relative ease. It made him cocky as hell. When he was 16, he was banned from Turkish oil wrestling for hurting too many of his opponents. That's when he turned to powerlifting. By the time he was 18, he was 250lbs of Herculean power, and he came to the United States. He got a job making 'collections' for a local loan shark. He spent his free time lifting and slabbing on tremendous size and strength for his work and for powerlifting meets, where he loved nothing more than totally domination. Now, at a bulked up 400bs of Turkish muscle, no one had been able to give him a challenge. Until today.

Suddenly, there was some commotion at one end of the gymnasium. "He must be here," said Ken. And he was right. A set of double doors opened up at one end of the gym, and two big dudes, probably both 280+, walked in, both carrying big gym bags. They held the doors for the Turk, who waddled in like an overfed king. He was so massive, he made his two cronies look small. He probably had a 45" rounded out musclegut, but it was balanced out by his 75" chest. And by his enormous legs. My god, his legs. Monstrous, thick, super ape-hairy legs. No wonder he waddled. He had to swing those beast thighs around each other with every step. His body hair jutted up around the collar of his tee shirt, both in front and in back. He had hairy ape arms, hairy knuckles, even hairy ears, and not just sprouting out from the inside, but even the tops of his ears had coarse black hair jutting out like fly hairs. He was ugly and brutish, but his size made him intimidating, and people parted out of his way as he walked thru the gym. And I hated it, but he turned me on. I couldn't help but stare at his huge squat butt as he waddled by us. The most monstrous ass I'd ever seen, even bigger than Tommy's, wider and thicker, and it was vastly highlighted by the lifting shorts he had on, the legs of which were making red rings on the skin of his massive thighs as they slid up a little with every step he took, exposing more monster mass and thick black hair. The seat of his lifting shorts had a wide vertical stripe of ass sweat staining thru it, as it got swallowed up in the deep cavern of muscle where his glutes met up in the back. I must have been staring too long, thinking of burying my face in that dark funky chasm of superheavyweight powerlifter ass, because Tommy slapped me upside the head.

"We're here to beat that guy,remember?" he said to me.

"Who are you again?" I said, rubbing my head.

Tommy rolled his eyes, then continued to warm up, with Ken's help.

"I have to go sign in," I said, adjusting my cock so it wouldn't chub up anymore to the hideous freak mass monster that was the Turk. "I'll be back." As I headed to the auditorium where the bodybuilding contest was going to be, I ran into Arn. He had a tank top on and it showed off his ultra-wide shoulder span. I could see all three heads of his delts rippling with muscle. Then I noticed that his chest hair had already started to show. "Man, you got stubble," I said to him.

He looked down at his big pecs and said, "Yeah, I shoulda realized that would happen, given how fast my beard grows back in. Two hours after a shave, and I got shadow showing. Feel," he said, and he grabbed my hand and put it under the strap of his tank. He rubbed my hand on his pec, and his chest stubble was bristly as a wire brush. "You think they'll take points off for it?" he asked.

"I'm not sure...maybe," I said, cupping the hefty weight of his stone hard pec. I let my thumb flick over his jutting nipple.

"Aw, careful, Joe," Arn groaned, "those bad boys have been aching for attention since you shaved my chest last night." And I could see his bullet nip jutting out farther. "Funny thing is, the slightest touch makes them respond, but they're so tough, you could also take a pair of pliers to them and it still gets me off." He reached up and grabbed his nips and twisted them hard. "Damn that's good," he said. We started walking down the hallway, past a row of office doors. Arn stopped at a door that said "Coach Griffin" on it. "Let's check this room out for a second," he said. He twisted the doorknob, and I could tell that it was locked.

"It's the weekend, Arn, nobody's in." Then I heard metal crack as Arn twisted the doorknob so hard that the lock broke and the door opened up.

"Looks like the coach forgot to lock up," said Arn, pulling me inside. He kicked the door shut and grabbed me. "I was thinking of you all night, boy," he said, wrapping his arms around me tight. "I woke up hard as steel thinking of you. Chew on these nips for awhile before I lose my mind." He didn't have to ask me twice. I started gnawing on his fleshy nips, and the harder I gnawed, the harder he moaned. He undid his pants and his cock popped out, arching up toward his abs like a satyr's. He reached around and grabbed my glutes. "You got a hotter ass than a Russian stripper, boy," he said, as we stumbled up against the coach's desk and made it slide up against the wall. "I gotta tap that hard," he said. He reached down and swept everything off the desk with his big arm.

"I thought you said I should wait till after the contest," I said.

"I said you should wait, I didn't say anything about me," then he lifted me up and slammed my back onto the desktop. The only light coming into the room was from around the door, which wasn't fully shut because Arn had crushed the knob. It was enough light for me to see Arn's upper body rippling with thick muscle as he reached down and undid my pants, pulling them off me. He put his big hands on my quads and gripped them hard. "You've gotten a lot bigger since we met, haven't you, Joe?" I shook my head yes. I'd gained over 3 inches on my quads alone. It felt awesome feeling that extra mass on them as Arn massaged them roughly. He pushed my legs apart and upward. He had me bent nearly double when he climbed up on top of me. I heard the metal legs of the desk squeak at the extra weight of him. He spit in his hand and lubed himself up. He stopped for a second, then said, "Even better..." and he reached over to a shelf on the wall and pulled off a bottle of Purell. He lubed himself up with that and groaned with pleasure. Then he squirted it into my ass crack and started rubbing it in with his big fingers. It was icy cold on my hole, but was an amazing sensation, especially when he shoved in two of his fingers and worked them around. I got goosebumps up and down my body as he loosened me up. He squirted more Purell down there, which felt cold and hot at the same time somehow. It made my butthole twitch hard on his fingers. "Oh, yeah," he said. "You ready for the real deal?" he asked me, as he covered his dick with more Purell. I shook my head yes. He guided his arched prong into me and started pumping. I never thought I would get into this at all, but as he pounded into me harder and harder, we got into a rhythm, and the pleasure of feeling his power inside me grew and grew. We even started grunting in rhythm...Uhh uhh the two of us became one. He lifted me up into him on the desk, allowing him to plunge deeper into me, and as I dug my fingers into the thick muscularity of his sweaty back, I almost blacked out from the ecstasy of the moment. I wanted more than anything to blow my load on his bristly 8pak, and as if sensing how close I was, Arn growled out, "Don't you cum." I arched my head back and sat deeper onto his big arching cock. It took everything I had not to let my jiz fly like a geyser. It was almost painful, holding it back, but also intensely erotic. I felt his hardon pushing my prostate to the side as it burrowed inside me deeper and deeper. He pounded into me harder, bouncing me up and down like a toy, making the desk buck and creak. Finally, he pushed me down hard on top of his dick, let go of me, so he was supporting me with his hardon. He reached back and gripped the desk, arched his ass upward, and came inside me. As he blew his load in me, he gripped the edges of the desk so hard they snapped off in his fingers. He leaned forward, lowering my back onto the desktop as he continued to thrust, sweat dripping off the tip of his nose. When he finally pulled out of me, he tore his tank top in two, and threw one half to me.

"Wipe me down," he said, and I used the torn tank to mop up the sweat on his muscular shredded chest and back. Then I wiped off his still-hard dick, and as I did, he grabbed my hand and rubbed it up and down his shaft roughly. Then he took the other half of his tank and rubbed me down good and hard with it.

"Now, where do we sign in?" he asked, tossing his used-up shirt into the wastebasket in the corner.

After the sign-in, Arn and I headed back to Tommy. The bodybuilding contest didn't start till later, so we wanted to see how fast the powerlifters were moving along, so that I'd get a chance to see Tommy compete against the Turk before I had to be on stage. As it turned out, the big ape-man had insisted that the superheavy weights compete first. The cocky beast knew that that's what everyone wanted to see anyway, and he was right, no one protested. Besides, there were only two superheavies entered in the competition, him and Tommy.

They started with bench pressing, and the Turk had his two cronies load the bar with 800lbs. Despite being double his bodyweight, he pressed it out and slammed it back on the rack. The whole gym floor seemed to jump. He sat up triumphantly and slapped his hands together, causing chalk to fly off in a cloud. Tommy went next, but before he did, he and Ken added another 45lb plate to each side of the bar, bringing it to 890lbs. Tommy pressed it out, but instead of slamming the bar down, he gently placed it back on the rack, displaying complete control of the weights. It was only now that the Turk paid any apparent notice to his opponent. He had his buddies load 20lbs to the bar, bringing it to 910lbs. He pressed that out, too, but you could tell that pushing it back up was a struggle. When he got up, Tommy and Ken loaded two more 45s, bringing the weight to 1000lbs. Tommy's upper torso was so swollen by now, it looked like someone had blown him up with a bike pump. Ken and I helped him peel off his shirt, and there were several gasps from the audience as they saw the extreme development of the kid's chest. He pressed out the 1000lbs, then stood up, and silently invited the Turk back to the bench with a hand gesture.

Now the big Turk had his two buddies peel his shirt off. He leaned over, outstretched his arms, and they tugged and tugged to pull it over his gargantuan size. Again, people gasped, as the massive powerlifter stood upright. His huge barrel chest was thick with black hair, yet you could still see how reddened his pecs had gotten from the heavy benching. But instead of heading to the bench, one of the Turk's buddies was pulling something out of their gym bag. I saw him walking over to the Turk with it.

"What's that?" I asked Ken.

"It's a lifting shirt. If they can get it on him, it should help him max out that 1000lbs," he said.

"Is that legal?"

"At this meet it is. Tommy never wanted to try one, said he wanted to lift clean."

We watched as the Turk's 295lb buddies forced the shirt over his head. Then it began to look like they were stuffing a massive beef sausage into too small a casing, as they struggled and struggled to pull the shirt over the Turk's bulk. When they finally managed to get it on, he looked like he was wearing a small sized shirt on his XXXXL torso. His arms stuck out nearly parallel to the ground, and his thick pecs heaved up so high that his chin rested on them. He waddled over to the bench and got down on it. His friend's added two 25lbs plates to the bar. He forced his arms up to the bar, lifted, and pressed the 1050lbs. He slammed it down and sat up, his face all ruddy and his eyes bulging. He stood up and waddled back to his friends.

All Tommy would have to do is lift more than 1050lbs and he'd win the bench press. As he and Ken approached the weights, the entire crowd went silent as they each picked up a 100lbs plate. They slid the plates onto the bar, bringing it to 1250lbs. The stunned crowd circled around closer, silent, except for an occasional "no way," or "holy shit" or some other awestruck utterance. Ken could barely contain his excitement as Tommy got on the bench. Still shirtless, he laid back and put his arms up on the bar, which was now bending at the ends. He lifted it slowly and steadily, lowered it until it tapped his massive swollen pecs, then racked it back up. The crowd went nuts, yelling and screaming, guys slapping each other on the backs, realizing that they'd just witnessed a world-record beating bench press. Ken was shaking Tommy's hand in victory as Arn and I walked over to congratulate him. In the midst of it all, we didn't notice the Turk pushing people out of the way as he approached. Tommy stood up off the bench to face him. Even in a crowd of big muscular men, the two men dwarfed everyone in size and power. Tommy put out his hand to shake with the Turk. The Turk looked down at Tommy's hand, but didn't offer his.

"You are faggot!" snarled the Turk in a deep, heavily accented voice.

"Whoa," I said, and took a step forward. Arn put his hand on my shoulder to stop me. "Tommy's got this one," he said.

Tommy said something back to the Turk that I didn't understand. "Was that Turkish?" asked Ken. Arn shook his head yes. From the look on the Turk's face, he understood it, as his eyes filled with rage. We would come to find out later that Tommy had said "I will fuck your mother up her ass, then make you suck my dick."

The two mega beasts stepped up to each other. Tommy's chest was so engorged that his pecs looked like they were sunburned. The Turk's chest had expanded so much that his lifting shirt had stretched to the point of being semi-transparent. They stood nose to nose, growling Turkish insults at each other, until the Turk took a swing at Tommy. Fortunately, his arms being so oversized, and his lifting shirt being so tight, his swing was slow, and Tommy blocked it with his forearm. Then he grabbed the Turk under his armpits, picked him 2 feet off the ground and tossed him backwards. The massive powerlifter stumbled as he landed, then fell onto his back, where he waddled around like a turtle, until his two buddies grabbed his arms and lifted him to his feet. Enraged, the Turk tossed them off him like he was swatting flies.

"I will crush you like bug," he said to Tommy. Then he reached up with his big hairy hands, and grabbed the neck of his lifting shirt. He pulled at it hard, and it stretched and stretched, till finally it ripped down the middle, and his ginormous ape chest expanded out, bigger than ever, and matted in sweat.

"Geezus," said Ken, as the Turk tossed aside his shredded shirt. "I didn't think you could tear that stuff."

Tommy stepped up to the Turk, and this time, instead of going nose to nose, they were going chest to chest, banging their massive pecs into each other like battering rams. Just as it looked like it was going to come to blows, Arn stepped in. He pushed the two big men armslength apart.

"Let's just take it down a notch, guys," he said to them.

The Turk looked at Arn like he was going to tear his arm off, but there was something about Arn's demeanor that did seem to calm him down a notch. Must be a cop thing. And his big shirtless torso didn't hurt any either.

"He is cheat," the Turk said.

"Now, I don't think I saw anything that looked like cheating," Arn said to him like a patient father.

"He's just a sore loser," said Tommy.

Arn looked at him and said, "Listen, boy, sometimes people let their emotions get the better of them. Haven't you ever had that happen?" They both knew that it had, of course. "Now, you two galoots shake hands, and if you want to get in a wrestling match over this sometime, we'll set one up properly."

The big Turk grunted, but put his hand out. He and Tommy shook, and you could feel the tension settling down in the gym. Arn came walking over to me, and by the time he got here, Tommy and the Turk were chatting with each other in Turkish. Pretty soon, I heard the big Turk laugh, and the two of them headed out of the gym with their huge arms around each other's shoulders.

"What just happened?" I said to Arn.

"You know how Tommy can turn on the charm," he said with a grin.

"Yeah, I do. How is it that he knows how to speak Turkish so well?"

"That's a long story. Maybe I'll tell you tonight, after the show."

"The show!" I said. "I gotta get over there...."

The competition went like I expected. I was way more advanced than any of the other guys, and I won the light heavyweight division and the overall. I had no real competition like Tommy had, but it was fun, and a lot of the guys came up to me and wanted to know what my secret was for making so much progress in one year. I didn't tell them that most of the progress had taken place in the last 4 weeks, or that I wasn't exactly sure what the secret was myself. I was too busy enjoying the win.

Later that day was the Masters' show, and Arn had no real competition either, taking both the heavyweight title and the overall. The place was packed, since word had gotten out that he was Tommy's granddad. The buzz going around was that Tommy was the new strongest man on earth, and everyone was jacked to know that they were there to see him at his first comp. They went wild when they saw Arn on stage, looking better than most pro bodybuilders. The old man ate it up, I could see him beaming up there on stage.

After the show, I got a text from Tommy saying that he and the Turk had gone off to talk muscle and power together. Uh huh...sure they had, I thought with a smirk. He wanted to know if we could go pick up his gym bag, he'd left it behind at the gym. Arn and I went over to see if we could find it. When we got there, the place had pretty much been cleaned out. Except that in the middle of the floor, the bench that Tommy and the Turk had used was still there, and still loaded with 1250lbs.

"That's weird," I said, as we walked over to it. Just then, Ken came in, talking on his cell.

"Hey guys, I hear you both won today, congratulations. I had them leave this bench set up, I'm trying to get someone from the IPF to come witness Tommy's lift," he said nodding toward the phone at his ear. "I'm on hold....oh, wait," he said, and he walked out as he started talking to someone on the phone.

"That's cool as hell," I said, watching Ken walk out. When I turned back to Arn, he was straddling the bench, facing the bar.

"Yeah, that sounds great," he said. Then he put his hands on the bar, lifted it up, and curled it for 5 reps. He put the bar back down, turned around and faced me. I stepped back in awe.....and fear. "You know, I was thinking...that trophy you won today? That should really be mine, don't ya think?"

"What do you mean?" I said, my heart pounding hard.

"Well, I found out during the show, that the Masters division is separate from the main show, so the winner can't take the overall spot. But I'm thinking, if we had a posedown together, I'd take you." He had an evil glint in his blue eyes, and it was scaring me, and turning me on at the same time. He clenched his fists and twisted them, making his massive fores and bi's bunch and swell. Bi's that had just curled 1250lbs. "Maybe we should just wrestle for that top prize trophy of yours."

"That's ok, you can have it," I said.

"Nah, I think we should wrestle for it." He walked toward me. "I'll put one arm behind my back," he said, and when he did, it just made him look stronger, and more menacing. "Why don't we go back to my place, and wrestle for top place?" he said with a smirk. "Besides, you're overdue for an orgasm." He grabbed my crotch and gave it a squeeze.

"Aww, goddam, you old fuckerrr," I groaned.

"Oh, yeah, that's me alright," he said as he led me out of the gym.

I forgot all about Tommy's gym bag.