From: Subject: [MGS] Story - BIG IS BETTER - Part 7 STAIRWELL EPIPHANIES Sam led the way out a back door into a hallway and then headed down a dimly- lit stairwell. Glancing through a window, I was surprised that it was already dark outside. As I silently followed him step-by-step down the long flight of stairs, my mind drifted off. Have you ever noticed just how many different and yet complete thoughts can race through one's brain in only several seconds? Well perhaps not, but that seems to be the way my brain routinely works. In a way, I'd always taken refuge inside of my head. It was my `safe place' to go, and I retreated to it almost unconsciously with alarming regularity. Considering what Sam and I had just talked about, I was feeling somewhat uncomfortable, if not actually even a bit worried. I was still shy and private by nature, and not at all uninhibited, let's face it. I had a good sense of humor actually, but generally showed a more serious, studious side to the world-at-large. There was also a truth in what I had told Sam too, that being that I'd never really learned how to just play or `let my hair down' with any regularly. There was always something more important to be done- work. Sam had unwittingly just called my bluff and asked me to `let go'. I knew that all he was really saying to me was, "I want to play. Please just come play with me. Be your whole self, not just parts of it." Ah, from the mouth of babes, as they say. and what a total babe this man of muscle was! It wasn't a leap to assume that Sam was at least hoping this included sexual playfulness too, on my part. So all I had to do was to be more open, spontaneous, uninhibited and even perhaps wild. Yikes! What had I agreed to? For me, this was scary stuff. So not too surprisingly then, in the next few moments I retreated into my mind far away from all of this, conjuring up a multitude of disjointed, unconnected thoughts and impressions in the moments that followed. I was escaping. Thoughts raced through my head in no apparent or related order. First, it occurred to me that I was aroused- just the very motion associated with stepping-down drew my attention briefly to that certain `beefiness' in my pant leg; moreover, that I'd also been more-or-less continually aroused to varying degrees since I'd first met Sam the man. The real man. Was that minutes, hours or even a day ago? I seemed to have no sense of time. I more-or-less resigned myself on the spot to the fact that I'd have a perpetual hard-on whenever I was around this man- as well as beside, behind, in front of, over or under him as well. (I had no way of knowing it at this time, but in retrospect, that's proven to have been an uncannily accurate psychic prediction.) Then I thought of the ways in which Sam was already becoming a growing collection of paradoxes and dichotomies to me, even in the very short time thus far. For example, on one hand, his mere physical presence would awe or humble anyone. With his clothes on, Sam would probably awe. Even a professional linebacker would be immediately demoralized by his overall body mass. The size of him just intimidates, shocks and stuns. And with his clothes off, Sam body would humble any observer. The beauty in his type of physical development is classical. It intoxicates. The incredibly masculine shapes of perfectly-realized muscular giants, all built to symmetrical perfection, communicate very strong primal messages subliminally- and it's all about power and sexual potency. Combined with all of his other "100% all man" attributes, Sam would, to me anyway, sit at the apex of the `Alpha Male' pyramid- the ultimate manifestation of masculinity in this world. Then I thought that Sam doesn't get out all that much, basing that on a few things he'd told me already. I doubted that many men had ever seen Sam's physique fully-exposed. My impression was that he kept to himself quite a bit, actually. I suspected that, if given the opportunity to look at him buck-naked for more than a few seconds, he'd make any woman's panties wet as well as put a big bulge in any man's shorts. His kind of attractiveness is raw- even animalistic. Some physical beauty transcends even gender orientation. All I knew is that he just plain made me sweat. Sam's physical looks were unquestionably 100% `handsome He-man'- stud material here of the very 1st order. Zap -I was off into another thought entirely. This one concerned, of all things, the back of Sam's head and specifically his dark hair, and then- oddly- his haircut as well, which wasn't something I'd usually pay any particular attention to. It was a good haircut I found myself thinking- overall, just a great look for Sam specifically. His hair looked silky and had a satiny sheen. The length was medium-short; long enough to be able to run fingers through, but short enough probably to just brush, although I guessed that Sam combed it. I also noticed the wisps, swirls and rings of hair all over the back of his head that suggested his hair would be naturally wavy, maybe even curly, if it were any longer. But at it's current length, it was naturally neat, only hinting at a possible wilder unruliness. Damn, even this man's hair looked sexy to me. Wham - I found myself thinking next about Sam's personality. He had some very remarkable, even somewhat unusual, qualities- qualities that seemed to repel and yet attract me as well. If not almost `simple' acting at some times, Sam was certainly `basic' acting all the time. What you saw was what you got - and it was, in fact, all that was probably there. Sam was open, incredibly straight- forward, honest, and totally sincere- and to such a degree that it had frankly startled me several times already. All combined, it reminded me of a child - a young boy, in fact. The man was, I truly believed, incapable of lying or deceit of any kind. I don't think he knew how to, in fact. Sam also had a certain naivete that was hard to pinpoint, but it was there; and yet I'd also just heard him say things to me that hinted of perhaps a certain kind of wisdom. It seemed he had insights that greatly surprised me. At the moment though, I wasn't particularly thrilled with at least some of his insights, at least as they applied to me. In the very short time we'd spent together, I'd already seen several suggestions of a generous and giving nature in him. The total trust he's exhibited though, and especially with me so far, was just very powerfully endearing. Bang - another odd thought suddenly popped into my head. Actually, it was more of a strong feeling. Sam was obviously quite happy to be fulfilling my `special birthday request' by lifting for me, and maybe even genuinely excited by the opportunity to show me his big muscles; however, I just had a strong feeling suddenly that he was really not a real show-off at all by nature. I don't know exactly what signals I'd picked up upon from him, but I knew that at least his ego was probably normal-sized, even if he so obviously wasn't himself. I was surprised by that thought- that observation. I didn't think that this characteristic was probably typical at all of men with such a physiques. Nevertheless, my hunch was that Sam just was not into himself in that way at all. He seemed to have a kind of humility about him, with maybe even a wee bit of shyness mixed in that probably was just not obvious to me so far because of his rather affable, outgoing nature. So it logically followed then to me that Sam might be doing this purely because I had expressed an actual interest in something that he also enjoyed very much as well. I had finally managed to say it out loud to him, admittedly with a real struggle, that I like `muscle'. It struck me now that this was exactly like two boys excitedly discovering that they have a real common interest in baseball cards, and Sam just wanted very much to show me his collection. "You like Yoggie Barra cards? Hey, I've got a big set of Yoggie's! You wan'na see `em?" "Wow! You've got a REAL Mickey Mantle? I've been looking for one forever! Say- maybe we can even trade! I'll give you all my Yoggie's for just your one Mickey!" So Sam wasn't doing this to merely show off, in any flaunting sense anyway, his clearly far-superior physique. He was going to do this only to please that boy that lives inside of me, and then excite and arouse the man in me too (measured of course by the deflection of the `ol dick-ometer). And the truth was that I was both man and boy simultaneously, and for that matter, so was Sam. As for those `men' parts of us, it popped into my head that there probably was a sort of crazy, but nevertheless very real, sexual feedback loop between us too. I already had some sense - some awareness - of this hard to define `thing'- this `energy'. Pleasure given would beget even more pleasure received. But as for those `boys' in us, Sam WAS really doing this just for me. All of this suddenly seemed to me now to be about bonding, and Sam was just doing whatever he could to feed and nurture a strong bond between us. Sam's prime motivation was to please me however he could do that- so that I WOULD JUST LIKE HIM. I thought then about what I'd felt when I was looking into Sam's face upstairs, and especially into those eyes. I realized now that what I'd been seeing was that little boy inside of him- the little boy who trusted completely, celebrated every aspect of life unquestioningly, and above all else, just wanted a trustworthy friend to play with. A really big lump in my throat suddenly. I felt all mushy and gushy. Something went `ping' deep inside of me. I was just beginning to see Sam through a brand new pair of glasses. These crazy, disjointed thoughts that had just raced past me, flooding though me more-or-less all at once. Nevertheless, some at least seemed like fairly profound revelations, and when taken together, felt like an epiphany of sorts to me, especially considering I was just a 19 year old kid- powerful, a bit humbling, and certainly unsettling for me to experience, as well. (In retrospect, looking back from years into the future, I believe that this experience was my heart fully-opening, if but momentarily, to another human being- probably for the very first time in my life in fact.) Next I began to mull over in my mind this list of Sam's very positive attributes that I'd just been collecting together, and it was an already long and quite impressive list at that. I mean- it all summed up to Sam being really just one very decent and nice human being. I thought, "What's not to genuinely like here?" Damn. Nothing I could think of at all certainly. So the guy just also happened to be the most heavily-muscled stallion I've ever seen anywhere- and that includes on TV, in the movies or in magazines too. "So what's not to genuinely LOVE here Pete?" Damn, nothing I could think of either. That scared me. I decided to stick with `I liked him'. I could handle that. Suddenly I was snapped back from of all these far-away thoughts rather abruptly when Sam spoke. I didn't quite catch what he'd said. It might have been, "Watch your step Pete." That was probably the gist of it, I thought. Anyway, my brain suddenly cleared and I was suddenly transported back into the real world again. I found myself still following Sam down the stairs, right where I'd been before I'd left, and actually only taken a few more steps during that whole time my mind had wandered off elsewhere, seemingly for so long, too. It had probably only been a few seconds at the most. My eyes focused on Sam's back as he walked in front of me. It was actually the ONLY thing I could see, I suddenly realized. This observation reminded me again of just how massive that this dude really is, and in now some semi- quantifiable way- his body was framed by a confined space- the stairwell. Although Sam wasn't ducking, his head nevertheless only cleared the ceiling by an inch or two at the most, and his hair was brushing it a few times. I also realized I couldn't see around him at all; in fact all I could see was a wall of green material- the back of Sam's sweats- in front of me. The actual width of his upper back was being graphically demonstrated by the outsides of his shoulders and upper arms alternately brushing the walls on either side with each step he took. If Sam was even a few inches wider, he'd have plugged that stairwell like a cork in a bottle. This was the same kind of observation that I'd had when Sam climbed into his truck cab back at that bar - the man is one just huge dude! I thought more about his size, but in a different way than I had done before. After all, Sam's body was so far beyond any expected `norm' that it would automatically attract immediate attention anywhere, I suppose. I couldn't imagine Sam going out in public without drawing an involuntary glance from every single person he happened to come across, and 100% of the time too- be that man, woman or child. I suppose it's just human nature. And not to be hypocritical, God knows I couldn't keep my eyes off of him either. So to say he was a `very big dude' or even a `monster' still doesn't quite capture his real impact, whether visually or even socially or psychologically, that he must certainly constantly make on people, in general. I started thinking about what everyday life was like for the big lug- and I just happened to picture him doing some routine, like his grocery shopping. I visualized Sam turning down an isle pushing his shopping cart, and all the shoppers suddenly snapping their carriages around almost in unison and clearing the isle, fleeing in the opposite direction. Strangely, I also just knew that's exactly what happened to Sam more or less routinely. Hell, that's exactly what I tried to do myself when I first turned around on that bar stool to check out just who belonged to that big hand on my shoulder. I'd have hit the ceiling had Sam not suppressed my `launch' in mid-flight with his hand- and also held me down on that stool for quite awhile thereafter too! He's scary big. I wondered how many people actually really knew this guy at all, or would ever initiate a conversation with him on their own initiative. Well thankfully, Sam's a good talker and seems to be outgoing enough- but still, I wondered. How many people took the time to actually see anything else about him other than his massive body? How many had ever even noticed just what a handsome face Sam really had? I mean, his was a face `to just die for', at least to me- not to mention Sam's heart-melting pair of real clear `baby blues'- They're almost eerie-pale, in fact. His eyes have an unusual coloration and a special softness and sparkle to them. and they're just kind-looking, like there's a good soul in there. My suspicions were, sadly, not all that many. THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS Sam paused long enough to unlock another door at the bottom of the stairway. We emerged directly into the back of the gym that occupied the entire 1st floor of the building. Initially, I had trouble seeing much of anything in the dark room, but then objects slowly became more visible as I stood there and my eyes began to adjust. I realized that the large room was actually lit at least somewhat by low wattage lights mounted around the perimeter. Meanwhile, Sam walked to the front of the gym and close the big blinds covering the large plate glass front windows, this I supposed to insure some privacy. He grabbed a chair on his way back and set it down on top of what appeared to be a raised platform. As my eyes acclimated even more to the low lighting, I saw that the platform was really made of uneven lengths of what looked like steel construction beams, all pushed together and forming a roughly 6 x 6 raised platform. Adjacent to this platform was a rack holding some heavy regular-sized bars and assorted weights like I'd seen in another gym. There was another rack nearby with some much longer and extremely thick bars, certainly nothing like I'd ever seen around the gyms that I'd seen. They were formidable looking things, and I guessed that they were also very heavy in themselves, even without any weights being added. Scattered around the floor in various places were what I thought had to be specially made weights- absolutely gigantic iron plates, piled in stacks of two's and each about the size of a solid locomotive wheel. They were all so massive that, to me anyway, they all looked the same, but I surmised that each paired set was probably of different actual weight. This was big iron, in every sense of the word. No doubt they were made to go with the unusually big bars, I thought. I glanced more around the room and saw some cables and chains of different sizes. Some were hanging from or attached to various kinds of apparatus, and others seemed to come down from the ceiling. Several of the chains however were massive, reminding me of anchor chain or the kind you'd see being used in heavy industrial manufacturing operations, like steel production. "You can have a seat here Pete," Sam said with a wink as he patted the back of the chair, "and rest up! You're gon'na need it, I think. I need to change into somethin' else. I'll only be a minute." I sat down, not quite sure what was going to happen next. I watched Sam disappear into a darkened doorway that I thought might be a locker room entrance. Moments later, I heard what sounded like a locker being opened, and less than a minute after that, I heard a metal door being closed again. Sam emerged from the doorway wearing a Olympic weightlifter's form- fitting one-piece singlet, held up by long straps that crossed over his immense chest and shoulders from front-to-back. It was one very hot-looking `outfit' too with Sam wearing it. The dark-colored singlet was stretched so tightly over his hulking physique that it looked as if it was spray-painted onto his body. It would have revealed even the minor physical defect in any normal man's body, but then again, Sam clearly had no defects in his physique whatsoever- an astonishing fact, especially for a dude as huge and heavy as Sam was. For all of his extreme massiveness, his physique was absolute sculpture; a fact that his singlet validated totally. Sam also wore a thick leather belt that was cinched around his impressively narrow waist over the outside of the singlet, and it seemed to accentuate the large, beautifully bulging curve of his crotch, making it stand out in rather bold relief. I knew that Sam was very well hung- more from what I'd felt behind me in my hand previously than what I'd ever seen up to this point- but now there no doubt that he had a very hot package indeed. As I gazed at him, the shape of Sam's body silhouetted in the dim lights looked outrageously sexy to me. I started to really ogle Sam's bare legs, as this was the first time I'd seen them exposed. The light where he stood seemed to make them particularly stand out- and out-standing they were- real attention- grabbers of the highest- and biggest- magnitude. His thighs were stunningly immense, actually, I realized, and reminded me of trees. Each thigh without any doubt was thicker than my waist. Twin thick columns of muscle flared upward on either side of each knee. As he slowly walked forward, I took a dry gulp as I marveled as absolutely huge, swollen twisting striations in his thighs appeared and disappeared with each step. I also noticed that, as he walked, his stride had a peculiar gait to it as he swung one massive thigh around the other. I'd never seen anything that even remotely resembled the way Sam's legs looked, so being so turned-on by these two oak trees was an absolutely unexpected and thrilling first-time experience. As he walked past the platform where I was seated, I wafted in his potently sensual, manly musk like a bloodhound. I swear I felt the floor trembling too as he passed close by. Sam stopped about 9 feet in front of me. and then turned around to face me, saying, "There. This is more like it. It's comfortable- this here material stretches- gives me real freedom to move when I lift." Then Sam said nothing more, and stood there absolutely motionless for the longest while afterwards, as if he might intentionally be providing me this first chance now to do nothing more than to just look him over thoroughly and slowly. In fact come to think about it, this was the very first time I'd had the opportunity to really just stare and gawk openly at Sam from head- to-toe. Up to this moment, if I hadn't been directly in it, then I'd been at least certainly very close to his `personal space' most of the time, so far. Sam was just way too much man to take in up close. It really hard to get the `big picture' that way. And we'd been always involved in something when I was trying to look at him, like conversation. There were no other distractions now - no talking - no moving around or `doings' of any kind - and I was at the perfect viewing distance to finally genuinely get the full visual impact of this man. A big part of me screamed to do just that- to just stare. But I had this long-standing `rule' in my head about never looking at anyone for too long, or letting them know I was staring at them. I looked discretely- always keeping my eyes moving and never letting them linger too long. Partly, this was because it wasn't polite I was told, and partly because somehow it didn't always feel particularly safe to do that either. More recently, my newest life-lesson concerning staring was that if I caught a guy's eye for too long, they'd seem to assume that meant I was automatically interested in them, which almost unanimously was not the case, except for Sam, of course - because, God knows, I could have just stared at him for hours, if not days. Well, I wanted to so badly that I started to stare anyway - really hard, in fact. But after a few seconds, I felt funny and I'd divert my eyes to something else. Then I'd let them wander back to Sam for a few seconds more. And then I'd find myself doing the exact same thing again - I'd find myself looking at something across the room. And this battle went on- back-and-forth, back-and-forth- for quite awhile actually. This, however, had also not escaped Sam's notice. Spreading his arms outward at a 45 degree angle with his palms facing me, Sam looked right at me and said, "You nervous about somethin'? Ain't nothing to be afraid of, really. Go ahead Pete. You can look at me. I think this is somethin' you need to kind'a get out of your system anyway. It's really OK!" "But I am looking at you, Sam," I said slightly defensively, knowing that while that was probably technically correct, it was none-the- less only a half-truth at best. Of course even as I was saying this, I also automatically turned my eyes away from him again, no less. When I looked back, Sam was looking down at the floor as if he was exasperated momentarily. Then he looked up at me. "Peter, I LIKE you! And I thought `ya said `ya liked me too, actually. There's something mighty strange goin' on here, I think. Pete, people stare at me all the time `cause I'm different. They don't even know me, let alone like me. But believe me, they ain't got NO problem lookin' at me- not at all. They outright gawk! And the funny thing is- seems you like me but you AIN'T lookin'! Not really, anyway. And I knows I like lookin' at you - a lot! Fact is, I can't barely take my eyes off of `ya, truth be known. And `ya said `ya liked muscles too- I they make `ya feel all sexy, and everything. I'm real strong, Pete. Really. I am! I got big muscles! I knows I ain't bright, so I just don't get it. Seems if `ya like me Pete, you'd look at me so's I'd know that with your eyes, that's all." Boom! There was an atomic explosion inside of me. Sam's words descended on me like I had a building collapsing on my head. I felt like a complete and total jerk- and a bit of a bastard too. I needed to say something back to him, and but fast, or I knew that it would suddenly all be over - irreparably over. But I seemed to only be able to get words out of my mouth by talking to my feet. God, I hated myself when I was like this! I knew this was also taking one giant step backwards for me. Nevertheless, I found myself doing it all over again- the exact same thing I'd always done whenever I felt this way - talking to inanimate objects whenever I had `big feelings' going on inside of me. But saying something was at least better than saying nothing at all. So while addressing my left sneaker specifically, I nevertheless spoke honestly, although it all came out painfully slowly. "Sam, I like you - a lot. That's the truth. And I want to look at you too. Really, I do. You're whole body is completely amazing. and God, those muscles of yours are just. just. so beautiful. Honestly Sam,. you're just. just the most handsome. the hottest. man that I've ever seen. and God strike me dead if I'm lying." Strangely, my left sneaker remained mute, but after some long moments of silence, I heard Sam's voice. "O.K.. Then all `ya have to do, Pete, is let the genie out of the bottle. I've got big muscles, and it all right if you wan'na look at `em all. It's OK that `ya like `em the way you do. Go ahead, Pete. You look just as long as `ya want now Let that `ol genie out. Let go. I want `cha to let it out for me. So, you look up at me now, O.K.?" I took a very deep breath, and then I actually pictured in my mind actually opening a bottle and seeing strange-colored vapors rushing up out of it, and then I repeated this several times more in my mind. I saw myself opening an actual bottle. Finally, something seemed to fundamentally shift inside of me, and I felt I could trust my eyes to now more faithfully tell Sam everything that I felt about him inside of me. I slowly looked up - and when I finally was able to truly `see'- it was one hell of an eyeful, let me tell you. For me, it was the difference between watching Star Wars on TV versus seeing it at a movie theater. The full sensory impact of Sam's physique could only be experienced on my `big screen.' I allowed myself to gawk openly. I permitted myself to stare blatantly. And somewhere in the middle of ogling every part of him, I passed some point of no return. In fact, I wondered if I could ever stop staring! Sam must have certainly felt the heat from my lasers searing his skin as they scanned over every inch of him slowly, over and over again. It didn't take a great deal of time before my continuous uninterrupted staring was making me feel flushed. Sweat formed all over my body and blood pounded in my temples. There were just muscles everywhere I looked- massive and huge, rippling, powerful-looking things; some appearing and disappearing behind others it seemed. Sam hadn't lifted so much as a pencil yet, and I was turned-on powerfully, but I know Sam fundamentally understood that already. He knew what made my motor run, and he possessed it all- absolutely everything last attribute that I was attracted to in a man. I like my men T-D-H. On a scale of 1 to 10, I rated Sam about 1,000. And no- I don't mean `tall, dark and handsome', although he certainly was all of those too. I mean `Totally- Developed Hunk'. And from what my eyes were feasting on, he fit all the criteria multiple times over, Sam was more like a `Titanically-Developed Hunk', in truth. My eyes didn't waiver, and I let Sam see right into me. And as I continued to stare at this magnificently-muscled, brutally-handsome monster still standing there motionlessly before me, the image of Sam transformed clearly in my mind into the `Samson' of the Bible, whose phenomenal strength was of divine origin, and who slew the entire Philistine Army single-handedly. And if not exactly like Delilah, I nevertheless craved to get into any of his gorgeous hair at that moment too. Wherever that happened to be on his magnificent body, it was perfection too, and it greatly contributed to the overall stunning impact of this He man. Every aspect of this man was hotter than Hell to me, and after visually gorging on him for only several minutes, I just `wanted' him- plain and simple. And Sam had been looking directly at me too throughout the entire time, watching me watching him. And although a word had not been spoken in minutes, the communication was nevertheless honest, total and complete. With a whimsical grin, Sam finally broke the long silence. "Hey- you ain't getting horny by any chance yet, are `ya, Pete?" Without waiting for an answer, he looked down and inspected his singlet with his hands, and then said something about it needing a slight adjustment. He reached up with each hand and simultaneously pulled up on the shoulder straps, which quite effectively lifted the material at the sides of his crotch higher. This not only exposed more of his high upper thighs and the sides of his groin partially, but dramatically accentuated the plunge of his bulging basket and clearly revealed two substantial balls and his sexy thick wand through the now even more tightly-stretched material as well. I knew the He man was toying with me, but I didn't mind his intentionally erotic playfulness at all! Looking right at me, he said, "There. That looks even better, don't you think?" I'd just stared, smiling, for quite awhile longer. Still grinning broadly, Sam repeated, "Hey, are `ya getting horny yet, Pete? I sure hope `ya are!" Horny? You bet. But I was also feeling unusually sexy myself, actually. I had this new `attitude' thing suddenly going inside of my head as I tried to remember to just enjoy this and practice `letting go'. I felt a kind of power again- something that I really hadn't let myself feel in probably years, and boy- it felt really good. So to capitalize on these unusual feelings, I let myself be playful too. Besides, the whole scenery- Sam's big muscles all poured into that sexy- beyond-belief bulging singlet- was overtly arousing me anyway. Why waste this, I thought. I knew what really pushed Sam's `on' switch. Hell, I had the right toy for Sam already too, but there was no way he'd know that, since I was wearing my usual baggy pair of jeans. So just how to `communicate' this to him? Hmmmmm. I reached for the crotch of my jeans and slowly began squeezing and rubbing it all over very suggestively, looking up at Sam and then back down to my crotch several times, saying with my eyes, "Right here Sam. Look right here." Then I slowly swung the leg with my dick in it outward, exposing the inside of the pant leg for Sam's viewing pleasure. Then using my thumb and index finger of both hands, I pressed down on my jeans to clearly frame the perimeters of my cock in the leg, effectively demonstrating to Sam not only where it started and currently ended, but also it's circumference and pretty much said, "Here's the whole enchilada." Looking up again, I saw that Sam was riveted on my crotch and getting kind'a glassy too, and he also looked as if he was about to start spontaneously drooling if I continued this much longer. B-I-N-G-O ! "Yeh, I'm real horny Sam. Can you see?" I kneaded the big fat thing with my fingers slowly, just to make sure Sam was paying very close attention. "It feels to me like it's getting pretty big. Oh yes- definitely feels big! Hey, are you getting horny yet, Sam?" I thought we were now even, judging from the new pronounced bulge in the front of his singlet. "So Samson, I thought if I got big, you were going to get big too." (Not that he had to grow one single centimeter anywhere to be the hottest man I'd ever seen, but you know - promises are promises, regardless.) "Woof! Woof!! Sam barked out like a dog repeatedly. "Pete, y'all are just totally inspiring! Makes me wan'na really enormou-size myself first, and then do somethin' real special, just for your birthday. `Ya ready?" Boy- was I ever. For the moment anyway, the genie was still out of the bottle, and I was determined to watch him like and snowy owl would a lemming. "My heart may not be able to stand it- but definitely go ahead anyway, Sam. I'll die at least with a smile and a massive hard-on. Come to think of it, that may give the undertaker a real thrill with the rigor mortis and all." Sam guffawed with seeming disgust at my awful sense of humor, and then got down to serious business. I sat up and leaned forward enthusiastically. There was no saliva in my mouth, it having disappeared completely untold minutes ago now. I sort of braced myself to see something I knew that I'd probably never see again in my life. I was ready - focused - and going to savor every second of what was coming. "Go ahead Sam. Enormou-size!" THE QUALIFYING HEAT He waved in acknowledgement, and then bent down over a fearsomely heavy- looking barbell that was lying near him, lifting it off the floor as if it weighed nothing at all. That alone was already impressive. Then turned to face me again. Sam began to just literally toss that very big barbell around, doing nonstop back-to-back series of different kinds of difficult lifts with it, repeating each lift many times before he moved on to begin the next one. For his first lift, Sam started with the bar in from of his thighs, and pulled the loaded barbell up to his chest using his arms and lowered it down again. Then Sam switched his grip and, bending over horizontally, he pulled the bar up into his chest and released it slowly back down again. Next he moved over and sat down on a nearby bench and, leaning back, pushed the bar up off his chest until his arms were nearly straight and lowered it slowly back down to his chest. Next he stood up and, dropping the bar behind his head, raised the bar straight over his head and lowered it back behind his neck. Then resting the bar behind his neck across his shoulders, he changed his grip and squatted down to the floor and stood back up again. For his final lift, he stood tall and began pushing the bar straight-up over his head and then letting it back down to his shoulders. Each lift was simply awe-inspiring. That barbell was a very heavily-loaded mother too- I'd seen the heavy bar bend a bit from the weights the very first time Sam had lifted it. I could read the poundage printed on the side of the outside plate. After counting the number of plates on each side, I quickly calculated how much weight Samson had been lifting non-stop with such eye-popping ease for, I guessing, perhaps 15 minutes. I wasn't about to miss one moment by checking the clock on the gym wall. I was more than just impressed. I was astounded- and stiffer, certainly. Sam had been lifting a total weight effortlessly for a quarter hour that I would not have been able to lift cleanly even one time, and that I knew also at the extreme risk of very seriously injured myself! Sam finally set that particular barbell down, and he did so just as effortlessly as when he'd picked it up originally. There was no sign of any sweat anywhere on him, and his breathing wasn't the least bit labored, even after such a very long time of non- stop lifting. Overall, it appeared that Sam had just expended the total energy needed to twist the top off a Bud. I was surprised to find myself thinking that this guy really was in just incredible shape and had a degree of stamina that was unfathomable to me. In a way I knew he just had to be, of course, but I guess seeing really is believing- suddenly Sam had become much more real, and therefore unreal to me both at the same time. And his strength- those big muscles of his! I was at the point of starting to get rock hard myself. `Little Johann' was so big and weighty inside my baggy jean leg that I thought the thing might possibly fall right through. I started clapping my hands and whooping and hollering and stamping my feet, all to show Sam just how much I'd enjoyed it. "Sam, that was u-n-b-e-l-i-e- v-a-b-l-e lifting!! I've never even seen anything like that. and you repeated them over-and-over again, just so many times! God, how'd you.." "That's a rep, Pete. It's called a repetition," Sam interrupted, for my educational enlightenment. "I mean WOW- are you strong!! Thank you so SO much for letting me watch you lift. That was a terrific birthday present! Really- the best I EVER had!" Sam looked genuinely very puzzled and confused for a few moments. Suddenly, he started bending over with laughter. "Oh no. No. No.. Pete," Sam was gasping for air in between belly- laughs. "No.. No Pete. You mean that? What I was just doin'? That wasn't no LIFTIN' Pete. That weren't LIFTIN'!! I was just loosenin' up a bit!!" Then Sam started roaring again, banging uncontrollably on those oak trees of his with his hands. The guy was just busting up totally! I'd just witnessed what was for me, without a doubt, the hottest thing I'd ever seen in my life. Damn, it sure looked like deadly-serious lifting to me. Little Johann sure thought so to. Well Sam sure thought this was extremely funny, but I was uncertain what he meant really, and feeling foolish about feeling foolish, if you know what I mean. I didn't like being somehow `in the dark' about something that still seemed like a private joke. Finally after too long a time of genuinely enjoying himself seemingly at my expense somehow, Sam finally slowly collected himself back together. Well, sort of. "Now." Sam started to chuckle again but then quickly checked it, probably seeing from the expression on my face that I wasn't all-that- amused anymore, I think. He composed himself for a few seconds, and then apparently finally conquering the bad case of the giggles, Sam was able to finish his thought. "Now. O.K. Now this HERE'S where you probably want to sit up `n' pay `tention Pete." Did Sam really think I'd been napping or something? I'd watched him so intently that I doubt that I blinked my eyes even once for fear of missing even a millisecond of his amazing display. Moreover, my heart was already just pounding loudly to the point where I could hear it in my ears. "This here part is your 1st birthday wish." "My 1st wish?" I thought maybe there was a nuance here I'd missed before. "Yeah, your 1st wish. I'm hopin' you're gon'na make more of `em tonight, `cause I really want to.. Well. just remember- whatever `ya want Pete. All `ya got'ta do is remember that genie." He winked. Sam walked over to another rack holding very different bars than the kind he'd just used. These were very long and some seriously THICK pieces of solid steel- at least the size of those used for Olympic lifts, though for some reason I thought that these bars were specially-made and even larger, but I had no way of really knowing. After looking over several possibilities, Sam finally selected one. "These here," Sam said, eyeing and rubbing the bar almost fondly, "cost me lots of money. Must'a saved up for near' a whole year `fore I could `ford to buy these here babies. They's made `o real TA-TANE-YUME, they is!" He walked over and placed it across a low support stand of some sort that was sitting near the middle of the immediate area in front of me and proceeded to load several pairs of those locomotive wheel-sized weights to both ends of the bar, and then collared them all in place. This was genuine `big iron' - the real McCoys - a size that you don't ever see in even a commercial gym - the kind of massive weights that made me go all weak in the knees just watching Sam mounting them, if fact. He bent down over the bar and, gripping it in various locations, lifted it slightly several times, as if carefully determining exactly where he wanted to place his hands. When he was satisfied, Sam moved his legs into a slightly wider stance and squatted over the barbell, gripping the bar with his palms facing forward. Slowly Samson started to straighten his knees. The huge barbell creaked and groaned eerily and, as it slowly cleared it's moorings, both ends drooped dramatically as gravity tried desperately to pull the piles of massive weights suspended on the opposite ends back down to Earth. Almost straight- armed, Sam stood up completely, raising the huge barbell to the height of his lower thighs. I'm not sure why - maybe it was how even just holding such massive weight physically affects a heavily-muscled man's body- but seeing Samson just standing there, side-profile to me, made me feel a deep desire to cum. The sudden urge to just touch myself was strong. Sam was standing at nearly a 90 degree angle to me, absolutely straight and tall, with his shoulders thrown back slightly to naturally counter the great weight. His side-profile was wholly magnificent and fantastically hot. Sam's neck looked very big to me now, at least equally as wide as his head, and maybe more. Thick columns of muscle swelled out prominently on either side with a large vein tracing the edges of each. It was also now obvious to me that the very tops of the upper back muscles actually originated anatomically at the very base of his skull, and well up and behind his neck. I don't think I'd ever consciously realized that, probably because it isn't this obvious on normal man's body. Sam's upper back muscles were just so large that they flared out like the wings of the Concorde behind his neck; each wingtip being capped by a basketball- sized globe of muscle that formed his outer shoulder. But the single, most dominating feature from this particular angle, however, was definitively- Sam's chest. In fact, it was THE feature at the moment, for me. Mighty pectorals, looking every bit as thick as battleship armor, thrusted out so remarkably that they formed almost total hemispheres of muscle. Seen from the side, the projection of such great masses high on his body, combined with the bold contour around his entire thickly-muscled upper back, reminded me of a satellite photo of the South American continent. Sam's waistline seemed to almost disappear underneath it all. If I thought my mouth had been dry before, it felt now more like the Sahara Desert. "Now this HERE is Liftin'!" Sam said very emphatically, just to make sure I understood that he hadn't really been lifting yet, by his own definition anyway. "Hey, Pete- you just watch my bi's while I curl this `ol thing, Pete. I'm gon'na get me some BIG muscles now. It's party time, Pete! Real sorry I don't have no hats or noise-makers, but. I'm really hopin' `ya like the presents." With that, Sam swung the huge barbell slowly around to stand facing me more directly. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back slightly, and then- just stood silently for the longest time- still gripping the monstrous sagging barbell in his hands. After some time passed, I thought to myself, "Gee, this sure is different." I even cleared my throat a couple of times while I patiently waited for something to happen, but it did not. But I did notice Sam's face seemed to be changing somehow. Its countenance looked calm and relaxed, almost serene actually, I thought. With his eyes still closed, Sam quietly spoke just a few more words. "This is for you, Pete." Then even more time passed- still in total silence. Sam's eyes remained closed throughout. I even wondered briefly if he could possibly have fallen asleep. Whatever was going on here, I was completely clueless. So I just sat there an waited. After all, Sam knew what he was doing even if I did not, I figured. I'd have sat there for a week, in fact, waiting for Sam to lift. When Sam finally opened his eyes- and it was a long time later- he did it extremely slowly. He was looking more-or-less right at me still, but he just looked different to me now. Somehow his eyes seemed different too, but I was hard-pressed to say exactly how. His stare seemed to pass through me, in fact, as if I wasn't there at all- or he just wasn't even really seeing me. His face also seemed completely expressionless now; that previous look of calm and serenely replaced with something that appeared to me now to be just empty and vacant. Sam's breaths were slow and rather deep. I was just about to say something when I saw the large muscles in his big arms visibly tense and tighten as Samson made a deep `Oooof'ing sound. The huge barbell moved slowly upwards. I knew he was doing yet another set of standing `biceps curls' as he'd called this particular lift anyway- but now using this massive weight, unimaginable-times heavier than he had just before. Amazingly, Sam nevertheless pulled the massive bar up very steadily until it just brushed his protruding pectoral mounds, held it there momentarily, and then slowly lowered it back down to near his thighs. Then came another `Oooof' and another cycle started again. By the third or fourth time, vascularity was just exploding everywhere in his torso, and to a lesser extent even his legs, and I could clearly see veins even in the areas that his singlet covered. His breathing was deep and very steady. In fact, everything about each repetition, so far anyway, was an exactly perfect clone of the previous one, as far as I could tell. His fourth repetition looked to me exactly like his first, in every way. Outside of the obvious veins and muscles that were exploding all over Sam's body, there was no other indication to me that he was really straining - certainly not by his face anyway. I was being instantly re-educated about just how unbelievably powerful Sam really was. I mean- the steel bar itself was just massively thick, and yet it still drooped so violently under the weight that I thought it could possibly snap. This was serious, absolutely stunning weight, actually. I was completely humbled and total-awed, and if there's such a thing as a gas puddle that goes along with my ignition switch, Samson was now pegging that totally to the floor. The world could have ended and I wouldn't have noticed. This was one genuine, boner-fied HE MAN! Now THIS was STRENGTH!! I remained hypnotically transfixed as Sam performed even more astounding repetitions. The deep, unmistakable sounds of the `big iron' rattling and clanging as the plates shifted slightly quantified in my mind not only the massiveness and density of iron, but also the brute strength that commanded them upward against gravitational forces- and was doing so over and over again. Sam's form was perfect, and remained absolutely unwavering. His facial expression also remained exactly as it had been when he had begun- in short, he didn't have one. But even if Sam's face wasn't changing, absolutely unbelievable things were happening to his body. Defying the possible, his already huge neck, shoulders and chest muscles were clearly becoming even more pronounced. I saw the impossible nevertheless actually happening to those very big arms of his with my own eyes. With every repetition, they visibly grew bigger. The mere sight of them was absolutely paralyzing me. Sam's biceps were now reaching such stunningly dimensions that, in proportion to his other inflating muscles- and even considering his now incredibly-ballooned pecs- they were the true champions that totally ruled the moment- two perfect planets, literally beautiful to me beyond words. And Sam just continued to lift. `Oooof'. More repetitions followed, each cycle being performed with such perfect rhythm that you could have calibrated a metronome to it. I don't know if it's possible for a muscle to literally explode, but both of Samson's biceps were just phenomenally engorged monsters- which might have been Sam's own description of my cock at that moment, if he could have seen it, be he didn't look like he was seeing anything. The skin over them was now stretched so thin that the skin had a visibly bluish transparency to it. I also noticed that very small bright red- colored capillaries were beginning to appear as well, and I knew enough about medical biology to understand that these were called micro-hemorrhages, and their appearance implied the capillaries were beginning to rupture now from the internal pressure. Sam's astounding physical capabilities seemed to be surpassing some threshold of what might be humanly possible, even for the huge and muscular man that he was. His strength seemed almost Herculean. Certainly it was beyond what even I thought he just might possess, considering his size. Such power is fearsome. I'd lost count of the number of repetitions, yet his lifting - his form - was still mechanically perfect. The man was a muscle-machine, and one with the horsepower of a six-story Earthmover. Sam was still showing no really discernible signs of fatigue, and no indication that he was ever going to stop either, for that matter. Every centimeter of his bodying visually screamed out to me the near- tortuous force that was certainly being applied both to and through it, yet Sam's face remained essentially expressionless, belying any indication of that. I mean- I already knew that Sam was real rare mountain of a man, so it didn't surprise me particularly that I hadn't ever seen anything like what Sam could apparently physically do before, but an unsettling feeling started to come over me when I wondered if anyone else had ever seen such a thing before either. My eyes were telling me conflicting things that I couldn't quite make sense of. I could not reconcile everything that I was seeing anymore- and I was feeling a bit like Alice, after she's fallen through the looking glass. But just as these vague concerns were starting to get my increasing attention, Sam suddenly just- stopped- stopped cold, with the bar lowered in the starting thigh-position. He just stood there- silent and motionless- still holding on to the massive barbell- his face still expressionless- still that vacant stare. Then I saw him snap his head from side-to-side, just once. "Sam?" I said, hoping to get some response from him, but none was forthcoming. I waited in the silence for something to eventually happen, and finally it did. Sam blinked. And then- I saw him blink again. And again. He slowly tilted his head upward and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and held them there for awhile. Then Sam returned his gaze on to me, but he seemed almost disoriented, more as if he was getting his bearings or something. Finally he tilted his head down and appeared to be looking over the massive, sagging barbell he was still holding with his powerful forearms- now thick with tentacles - in a vice-like grip. Suddenly- and with no indication of any kind- Sam just released his grip, sending it crashing thunderously to the floor, and scaring me half out of my wits. I felt the reverberations in the floor as the massive iron recoiled and bounced rather ominously a few times. "Sam?" I thought I might have seen him nod his head slightly to acknowledge me- but I really wasn't sure. He still said nothing. His facial expression still looked peculiar - blank. He seemed as if he was way off somewhere else. He slowly raised his extended arms in front of him slightly and looked at them, almost as if he was quite sure what he was seeing. Well, given their current dimensions, it wasn't too hard for me to particularly understand why he might not recognize them immediately as arms either. Then there was a little more head movement. Sam slowly cocked his head to the right slightly and looked at his left arm for awhile, and then slowly rotated his forearm to look at the various sides of his upper arm. Then he very slowly cocked his head in the other direction, and repeated the same basic inspection of his other arm. Then pausing in the middle of this, he snapped his head hard again. "Sam?" I repeated. The way he was acting was starting to weird me out a bit actually. He casually glanced up at me momentarily, and then returned his gaze back to his arms, still saying nothing. Well at least I knew that Sam had heard me- he clearly responded to his name. I'm not sure he knew it was me. The look in his eyes was still funny, but his face had at least a little more expression back in it. Sam was moving his brow and jaw and mouth a bit anyway, and there were other slight movements throughout the rest of his body again too. He appeared to still be very interested in those arms of his, exploring every inch of them again with his eyes. He held them up in front of him and locked them out, fully-extended. I felt immediately woosy. In this position, his biceps looked to me like they were something actually set on top of his arms, as opposed to being a part of them. Two fire extinguishers of rock-hard muscle reached from his shoulders down to his elbows. Sam started to very slowly bend his forearms until his upper and lower arms formed roughly a 90 degree angle, partially flexing these two stunning giants in his arms. Even only half-flexed, his biceps were just absolute Titans, and still mushroomed up into beautiful domes. Sam was clearly observing their fantastic size and shape, but the actual way that he was looking at them was oddly casual to the point of being detached. Again I noticed Sam pause, and then shake his head from side-to-side. Then he went right back to looking at his arms. It seemed to me to be more like he was simply `inspecting' them, as opposed to feeling anything, or even admiring their utter magnificence. In fact, Sam wasn't showing any reactions at all to the erotic monsters that I was seeing. It appeared that he was not even thinking anything. He'd just look slowly over at one arm and then the other, all the while slowly flexing them repeatedly in front of himself. All the while this was going on, some more discernible "body language" and overall movement was returning to him again. "Some pump," I thought I heard him mutter under his breath, but this was meaningless babble. Don't get me wrong- I was absolutely enthralled watching Sam examining his muscles now more actively - something about this was oddly very hot feeling to me- but increasingly, what I wanted to see was some sign of a little more significant brain activity than I was getting. So I thought I'd try again to make 1st contact the very big alien again. "Sam?" Sam paused and shook his head hard from side-to-side several times again. And a few moments later, I did heard an `a-huh' come out of him, even though he continued to inspecting his two Goliath's. He did seem to be moving more, I noticed, and he was becoming a bit more alive acting again. "That's some pump.." Well, I heard words clearly enough. "SAM!" I said loudly, resolutely determined to get some real acknowledgement out of him other than a grunt, even though a grunt from this He man was pretty hot stuff all in itself. " Hey there, big guy. Are you in there somewhere? Anybody home? Come out, come out, wherever you are!" No reaction at all. "I don't think you even know who I am, Sam!" The big lug just said, "Sure I do," still looking dispassionately at his big battleships. I had a strong urge to get right up off of that chair and punch him actually- I was suddenly feeling just that mad. I guess I just really needed some of his attention, and I wasn't getting any- and I was getting pissed now. But very luckily for Sam, he saved himself from a ferocious attack from this Lilliputian Army recruit. Given the mass of muscle that stood there in front of me, it would have been about as attention-getting as a volley of arrows released against a tank, anyway. Sam- and no doubt sensing his extreme mortal danger I'm sure- raised his head and looked directly at me. "Sure I do. Your Pete." He still seemed a bit subdued to me- well, at least for Sam, that is. There was a kind of calmness in his voice that didn't quite sound to me like himself, and I thought a bit of a far-away look still lingered in his eyes too. He seemed just somehow mellower than usual, but at least I could tell that Sam was definitely seeing me. Sam shook his head back-and-forth again, this time making a big `raspberry sound' with his lips. Then he opened his eyes wide a few times, just like I do myself when I'm trying to be alert. Then Sam loosened up his hulking body by stretching a little- alternately bending his legs a few times, rolling his head slowly in a big circle, and finally shaking his arms out rather forcefully. "And YOU - are the birthday boy!" He said, suddenly looking directly and with at least a partial smile. I noticed that his eyes seemed more focused. "So- Did I light your birthday candle, Pete?" "Like a bonfire!" I replied, grinning broadly. " You are just awesome!" A big wide smile spread across his Sam's face, and his whole face opened up in and expression of genuine happiness. He tucked his chin into his chest deliberately, and keeping his eyes right on mine, started walking towards me, one very dramatic step at a time, closing the distance between us only every- so-slowly. "I'm real strong. I got me some real big muscles now, I reckon.." That was true enough, I thought, but Sam's tendency for understatement had also never been more extreme than it was in this moment. Given this vision that was slowly coming at me, my heart started to just pound in my chest like I thought it was going to explode. "Say Pete, I bet you're big as me now too, huh?" Samson said, taking another step closer. He glanced down at my crotch momentarily, and judging by how wide his eyes got momentarily, apparently answered his own question. I was grateful for that too, because certainly no words were going to be coming out of my mouth anytime in the forseeable future. Lockjaw had set in permanently. "'Ya sure are," he continued. That thing's a MONSTER! `Ya make me so hot." Sam took another very deliberate step. What he'd said was true enough on both counts, too. After being wildly aroused for what felt like forever to me, the broad back of my fully-realized python was straining so hard to raise it up through the top of my jeans that my baggy pant leg was clearly suspended in air clean off my knee now. This was the kind of hard-on that usually embarrassed the hell out of me, but my engine Rpm's were red-lined. Sam also clearly had `big meat' now of his own that was reaching all the way to the bottom of his leather belt. Sam took another step closer and I needed to tilt my head slightly upward in order to see his face. Massy pectoral mountains, like twin bows of mighty ice breakers, projected proudly out in from of him. It seemed to me that they would actually reach me steps ahead of the rest of his body. "Pete, open them jeans now. I really want to see `ya- all big like that. Show me what huge meat really is!" Without moving my eyes off of Sam, I unzipped and, bridging off the chair seat on my neck, quickly pulled my jeans down below my butt and freed the hopelessly confined prisoner. The whole expression on Sam's face changed into one of hypnotic wonder as he watched- spellbound- it's subsequent steady rise to fully glory. Proudly, it lifted dramatically skyward- high and mighty at last. I was allowing myself to be the real poster boy for the "Be All That You Can Be" slogan, in terms of erections. It felt so very heavy to me, slowly weaving and bobbing there high between my thighs, looking like one- half of the St. Louis Arch, that I thought it might just snap off of me at any moment. But I just sat there and let myself be huge for Sam anyway, and I was all that he wanted me to be. And I let him look at me for just as long as he needed. He made me feel good actually, like I was sexy and hot. I don't know what Sam was feeling inside, but I know that, for him, it was very powerful and good and likely necessary. Sam just stood there looming over me- playing with himself with one of those big paws of his- and he looked for a very, very long time. When he was finally done for the moment, he glanced up at me and simply said, "I must'a died, `cause I know's I went to heaven." Then he took one step forward again and knelt down in front of me. "Thank you, Pete. That was really... Well.. That there's the most beautiful think I ever did see in `ma whole life." He paused for a few seconds, and then resumed. "Now- this here is for you. I'm big, too." Matter-of-factly, Sam reached up and grabbed the shoulder straps of his singlet. In unison, he pulled them out across the wide plains of shoulder and then around the outsides of the two boulders that marked their ends, and in one motion, peeled the singlet down to his leather belt, leaving the straps dangling by the outsides of his tree-sized thighs. And for the moments that followed, for me anyway, seas parted and worlds collided. What I both saw, and what I felt inside, was so powerful that it is indelibly burned into my mind until my last breath on Earth. Sam understood implicitly how much he turned me on. He raised his utterly- pumped massive arms slowly from his sides, fully-extended, until they were just above the level of his massive eagle wings, and then he just held them there for awhile - these two inhumanly huge, perfect cylinders of granite that lay atop each arm- for me to just look at them, absorbing their full erotic impact. He let me savor my own wild erotic energies. To feel the nuances of desire and the craving and wanting and lust. He held them there just as long as I needed. And somehow he was so in tune with my soul - he was reading me so well - he just knew when it was time. In almost slow motion, Sam brought his fists up towards his head, and created- just for me- one of the most erotically intense, spiritual moments of my life. His mighty and powerful Titans rose steadily upward, slowly transforming from huge horizontal cylinders into wrenching fully-flexed absolute global Gods - two perfectly split biceps, each larger than a ten pin bowling ball, just kissed his thickly-roped forearms. My arousal was so profound -so total- - that I reach for the very first time that mystical point where agony and ecstasy are both one- and I know that I ached deep inside. Ached like never in my life- and it was, at once, also wondrous beyond description. And I just sat there and looked- then looked more- looked at, what for me was, penultimate masculine Beauty. And I ate of him - I ingested him - I consumed him totally- in a Holy Communion. If I had even so much as thought about touching my cock, I would have exploded on the spot. However, the power of this arousal - the intensity of this erotic energy - was so great that I was somewhere beyond being capable of independent thought. Like Sam before, I had found Heaven. Then I heard a deep, masculine voice speaking from somewhere that sounded far off in the distant, actually. "I want `cha to feel `em, Pete. feel `em all over. They's REAL big. Go ahead now. It's O.K. ." I sat there absolutely motionless, well beyond the capability of exercising any conscious control over my body. Sam lowered one arm and moved forward, walking on his knees, and pushed my own aside as he positioned his body between them. Taking me gently by my wrist in his hand, he lifted my arm upward - then placing my hand on the very summit of his flexed Titan, he released it as he resumed a full flex with his other arm, and returned his total attention to my python. Like a tree gently bowing in the breeze, I could feel my cockhead occasionally touching Sam's abdomen now, sometimes just brushing the hairs of the sensual love trail that ran up the centerline of his stomach, and at other times patting his deeply corrugated washboards. My other hand seemed to automatically find it's way to the summit of Sam's other biceps, and I started to actually feel what, up to this point, I had only been seeing. My hands slowly orbited like moons all around the twin Jupiter's high up before me. Had I been more mature, I might have actually wept with joy actually- without any shame at all. I heard his distant-sounding low voice again. "Happy Birthday, Pete. Time to make a wish, and blow out your huge candle. It's O.K. Go ahead now." Well, my wish had already come true, a thousand times over, in fact. The very second that Sam's words penetrated, my eyes slammed shut. My balls yanked so violently up into me that I bellowed and involuntarily pulled down, lifting myself right off of the chair slightly, using Sam's massive Titans for handholds. I blew my candle out alright- hard- like a wide-opened unmanned high-pressure fire hose. The first and second volleys passed far above his head and over one of Sam's shoulders. I heard Sam moaning with that kind approval that only a real man can have. The third caught him squarely in his face. Uncounted others randomly coated the shelves of his massive pec mountains, drizzling over them like frosting on a Bunt cake. And by the time I'd finally emptied my tanks to the very bottom, big gobs of cum randomly clung to the deep ridges and hairs all over his stomach. As I opened my eyes and began surveying the damage in a daze, I realized that my hands were still firmly mounted on Sam's mighty Titans, and that Sam was, in fact, still moaning loudly. Glancing up, I saw Sam's eyes were closed and his head was titled far back. Then I looked down at the crotch of his singlet, and immediately saw the large dark area of wetness in Sam's ample basket, and also noticed his love batter was just beginning to leak out past the elastic around his balls. As his hot moans continued, streams of cum started flowing, following the contours of the large muscles on the insides of his huge thighs. "Man, can this big bruiser really CUM!" I thought to myself. "What a total stud!!". Then completely to my surprise, my still rock-hard rocket fired off not just one, but two encore salutes, seconding that emotion. Eventually Sam opened his eyes, and like I had done myself, he looked around somewhat dazed for awhile just eyeing the carnage around us. After completing his survey, he returned his attention to me and broke into the biggest grin I've ever seen on a man in my life, silently mouthing the word, "W-O-W!" clearly to me. "You're just somethin' else. You's just incredible, Pete! INCREDIBLE! Look at all this protein! Boy, I think I needs me a shower. I means- another shower! So, what'd `ya think? Am I big enough for you?" "No way." I came back with, just being a wisecrack. "I was a little disappointed, actually." Sam looked a bit maybe- confused- momentarily, then he just stood up to his full height suddenly. The look that came over Sam's face gave me a bone-cold chill. His expression went from to confused- to serious- to angry- to just something suddenly really ugly and very mean. It was more than scary. When someone the size of this monster looks mean, it's instantly damn terrifying- and Sam looked suddenly seriously very threatening and dangerous. This had all happened so fast that I was dumbfounded. My mind raced. No one knew where I was, and there was absolutely no one around to even hear me if I decided to holler my brains out. I was about to tell him that I'd just been kidding with him- but before I could even get the words out of my mouth, Sam suddenly reached out and grabbed my head between his giant-sized hand- and I mean hard, too! He had my immediate 100% attention. This guy's hands had every inch of my entire skull covered totally in a vice grip. The picture of Sam pulverizing my skull like a squash with my brains literally all over his hands flashed instantly through my mind- and this brute had the more than enough strength to certainly do it very easily. My life was going to be over in the next few seconds. Completely stunned, I froze like an animal. "Well, I guess I'm gon'na have to just-" he started to say, with a meanness in his voice that would strike fear into anyone- and I braced myself for what was coming next. "-just kiss `ya anyway, Pete." When I popped open my eyes, Sam was wearing an ear-to-ear shit-eating grin. Then turning my head upwards with his hands to meet his face, Sam bent over and planted a kiss on me that belonged in the Guinness World of Records- and turned me totally into quivering jelly. Eventually, Sam slowly backed away and crouched down on his haunches. He cocked his head, and with a big wink, smirked, "And you's- a big liar, too, Pete." This time I grinned broadly in acknowledgement- just in case. "So Pete- does `ya think I's real strong? Does I qualify?" Strong? I immediately thought about Samson and that absolutely huge barbell, and I wanted to ask him just how much it weighed. I mean, I knew it weighed a lot certainly- the way it sounded when it crashed to the floor - the way the building reverberated - the thing was just utterly massive! But I wouldn't even know how to describe the kind of strength I'd seen. Qualify? Beyond a doubt. The dude's just a mountain of a man certainly, but I thought about just asking him some things. Granted, I didn't know jack-squat about weightlifting, but. there were things I saw. As I was thinking, my eyes were also scanning over the crouched vision of a Hercules in-the-flesh, still stripped to the waist, in front of me, and my questions just didn't seem all that important anymore. This man was hot as the surface of the sun! So- completely uncharacteristically of me, for once I did exactly what I was feeling inside of me; more importantly, I showed it to Sam too. "You're the strongest man I've ever seen," I simply said, and left it at that. Then moving off the chair, I closed the distance between us, and I actually- kissed- him! For me to take the initiative was definitely something brand new. And in the process of me kissing Sam, I also pretty much wiped my cum clean off his upper body with my sweatshirt. God, his chest is just so massive! Sam just kept looking into my eyes after that kiss, tilting his head slowly from side-to-side occasionally, and alternately stroking my hair and head gently again with his massive paws. I had these tingles running all through me. He made me feel really good inside somehow, and the way he was looking at me was kind of special, actually. Sam seemed to really like me, and that was coming through to me loud-and- clear. As for me, well- I knew I could never get tired of looking at Samson, this strikingly handsome man with absolutely the biggest qualifications I'd ever seen, or would ever see, for that matter. Then Sam straightened up and said, "Well, I don't know `bout you Pete, but I know's I'm mighty hungry. I ain't eaten in `near 4 whole hours, I reckon. I'm near starvation! I need me FUEL!! What do `ya say I gets us some grub?" "That'd be great, Sam. I'm hungry- I could definitely stand something to eat, too," I said, rubbing my stomach. "Can I help you?" Shaking his head rather emphatically, Sam replied, "No. Absolutely not. There's no way I could tolerate that. There's here's your birthday, Pete." Then he added, with a devilish grin, "Then after we's done eatin', maybe you'd be wantin' to open another present? I sure hopes so. `cause I been savin' the best. Somethin' special! I'm real strong, Pete. I've got big muscles." I nodded my head in total agreement, and then decided I wanted to correct Sam on just one specific point. "But you're wrong about just one thing. You don't have big muscles. Sam, you've got the biggEST muscles!" Sam turned his head away slightly, smiling almost bashfully. Moments later, I saw his whole face slowly break out in one very prominent big red blush. "Ah. I think I needs to grab me just a quick shower first." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ eGroups eLerts It's Easy. It's Fun. 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