Eleven-and-a-half: A Fantasy Of Great Length by Ray Wilder Chapter 57: Arnold This is a work of fiction. All the characters, events and locations portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, events or locations is purely coincidental. Copyright © 1996. All rights, implicit or implied, except for distribution by this archive and personal use by the individual downloading the file, are reserved. Inquiries regarding publishing rights for this book should be directed to: raywild@aol.com ======================================== It took a supreme effort, more so than any workout he had ever put himself through, to just stand there. There had been lust, there had been desire, there had been soul-searing need. But never, ever had there been Patty. And every time her lungs sucked in more air and the bottom of her shirt rose up revealing a flash of flesh, a sparkle of a curve, it felt like a stake being driven deep into his soul, it hurt so good. He had no way to appreciate her beauty, no way to contemplate the loving, caring spirit that resided in this woman. There was only - first, last, and only - the sex -- hot, blatant, overflowing sex. And though he had contemplated this meeting many times over the past day, had fantasized what he would do with this woman's amazing body and his own when the moment arrived, he was paralyzed with expectation, overwhelmed with possibility. And, it appeared, she was having an orgasm. Right there in front of him. Curious. Curious that the word 'curious' should come to his mind. It was a word he thought might occur to him under other circumstances. So curious that it should now. But it was, indeed, curious. It never occurred to him that something like that could happen to a woman. He certainly had imagined having such an effect on a woman, certainly had seen it happen to men, himself included. If he hadn't known any better, he might say that Patty was actually swooning. And now she was moving towards him with a ferocity, indicating that what had just happened was just a little blowing off steam. He instinctively backed up until he found himself against the door he had just entered. Thank goodness it was closed, otherwise he would have been over the railing and on the express route to the parking lot. Wham! He hit the door. Slam! She was down on her knees in front of him, her face plastered against his groin, deep breaths pulling the scent of his crotch into her lungs. Hot breath heating his cock, driving it to a higher state of readiness, painful in its confines. The sensation of chewing as she tired to eat her way through the cloth of his shorts. Now it was his turn to swoon. Her left hand moved up his right leg. When it reached the bottom of his shorts she dug under and continued pushing her hand up the inside. There was no question as to her goal and Arnold drew a deep breath as he anticipated the contact. He felt her fingertips touch the jockstrap. They burrowed deep and made their way into the cup. His own breathing became labored as he fought down the urgent need to orgasm. She worked her way around one of his testicles, so sore, so bloated, so heavy, and found the shaft of his cock. His head spun. He couldn't look down, for fear he would fall over. He just clamped his eyes shut and began muttering, "Oh, shit," over and over again. Patty's fingers squirmed and searched in the painfully cramped quarters of his jockstrap until she located the head of his penis. He let out a long, low moan at the same time she sucked in a deep breath. Her grip tightened around the glans, she twisted her wrist to the right and began pulling on the end of his cock, dragging its length behind her as she extracted her hand from his genitalic pit. The shaft rubbed against his balls as it was hauled down his right pant leg. Slowly, so very slowly, she extended his length towards freedom. Further, ever further, each unbelievable inch growing rock hard as it stretched to the bottom of his shorts. And when it was straight, when it had been completely pulled clear of cup, the thick, rubbery head peaked out several inches, deep red, swollen, aching, swelling, monstrous, so very, very hard. Patty dropped her hand, leaned back to get the whole view, her breasts still heaving, the intense erectness of her nipples thrusting even harder against the totally useless, totally devastating T-shirt. Arnold dared to look down, her head appearing between the massive mounds of his pectorals. She waited. She just waited. Arnold knew he wasn't to move. He knew that to do the very thing he needed to do, grab his cock, touch it, squeeze it, press it, was wrong. Patty's gaze was locked on the point were he knew the end of his cock would be. He waited as well. And then it began: The heat. Slowly, steadily, a hot, roasting sensation began at the tip of his cock. It spread upwards, centimeter by centimeter. Up the inside of his shorts, moving inexorably towards his bloated, turgid balls. He could feel them begin to move in a way he had never felt before. They seemed to be at once attempting to retreat from and press themselves towards the advancing inferno. His heart was beating in his ears, deep bass thunders that slowed as the fire approached. It seemed to take seconds for his heart to crank out another contraction, sending yet more blood to his already over-inflated cock. The rest of his body seemed to swell in sympathy to his aching member and, as seconds dragged on with no sense of their proper duration, he felt each muscle begin to contract, tense, bulge, inflate. His entire being became an erection, unable to move, blood pumping powerfully into every available space. And the heat drew nearer. He felt his cock begin to pull away from his leg, straining at the fabric of his shorts. Although he knew it would be extremely painful, he tensed his muscles there and the cock heaved against the restraint. The fire made one final leap towards his balls. There was a loud ripping sound as the material of his shorts gave way. At the same time his chest expanded and the tank top, already stretched across the huge expanse of his ponderous pectorals far beyond the limit of its weave, flew to pieces, baring his magnificent chest and abdomen. His cock, having found its freedom, now stood straight out from his groin, the huge glans fearsome in its size. Arnold threw his arms open against the opposite walls of the hallway, his head back against the door and cut loose with a roar that rattled the windows of the living room. His cock jerked mightily in front of Patty's face and an orgasm of such ferocity came spewing from the huge slit in the end that he was physically pushed back against the door. Patty tried to get her mouth over the head but Arnold's movements were so violent she was unable to catch him without risking damage to the back of her throat. Arnold felt her grab on with both hands and attempt to aim him towards her. She pulled the end of his cock down and was bathed in a steady stream of hot, pumping cum. He bucked and jabbed his hips as though he were being electrocuted and Patty's attempt to control him only made it more intense, stimulating him further. His balls began to ache and cramp, his muscles began to ache and cramp, and he feared this would drain him completely. A small corner of his mind laughed ironically. He had spent all day preparing for this, only to blow it completely the moment he walked through the door. He had, as it turned out, nothing to fear. His hips thrust forward once more, releasing a final, powerful shot, and then he dove for Patty and lifted her in his massive, pumped-up arms. Another small corner of his mind expressed the wish that he would be able to recall the ensuing events with great detail, but the rest of his body told his little corner to go fuck itself and let us run things for a while. Later, much later, Arnold would recapture what had happened. Certain moments would stand out in glowing, minute detail. Other moments would only come to him as smears of sight, sound, taste, smell and, of course, touch. Minute detail: A director's chair against the wall of the living room. Patty is in the seat, curled in a ball. Arnold's huge cock is moving swiftly in and out of her cunt while his hands press into her breasts. He feels the point of each of her inch-long nipples jabbing hard into his palms. He moves his hands, takes each nipple between thumb and forefinger and gently rolls them left and right. Patty screams and her body contracts around his cock, sending them both to orgasm. Minute detail: Arnold is on his back in bed. Patty glides up and down his cock above him. Her breasts are dancing as their incredible mass sails through the air. Her powerful legs raise and lower her body and a small muscle on the inside of each thigh begins to grow and swell. Patty throws her head back as she approaches an orgasm and Arnold presses his thumbs into those two muscles. Patty screams and drives herself down on his cock, her body shaking uncontrollably, letting loose with a dam break of fluids that flow down over his balls and soak the sheets beneath him. Minute detail: Arnold is on the floor in some room, Patty's cunt thrust down upon his mouth. His tongue is working feverishly on the entrance to her vagina and she has her hands and, sometimes, her mouth wrapped around his cock, She licks it, kisses it, devours it, licks it some more. She twirls it around in front of her and lets it hit her on the forehead. Her breasts are pressed against the rigidness of his abdomen and he begins to flex them. He sits up partially, then lays back down. He keeps doing this and she presses her breasts into him each time. The nipples are rock hard and, as she leans to the left to get around the shaft of his cock to work on his balls one of the nipples slips into his belly button. His ball enters her mouth and cum rockets up the length of his cock and lands in the middle of Patty's back. Minute detail: They have been supine for several minutes, both their chests heaving with the exertion of some recent orgasm. He is hard inside her. She presses her mouth to his and insinuates her tongue. He opens himself to her and he feels her teeth against his. Her tongue coils around his, pressing it, tickling it. He opens his eyes and she pulls her head back to look at him. For a moment he can't tell what she is seeing, her eyes don't seem to focus anywhere. Finally she zeroes in on his forehead. She moves up a bit, a few inches of his cock sensing the cool air outside her body. Her lips lower and, one then another, she places a light kiss on each of his eyelids. He feels a flowing inside him and gentle tears run down his cheeks. Minute detail: Patty is leaning over the seat of the director's chair, the back removed. Her hard, firm ass is pointed directly at Arnold's erect cock which is, in turn, pointed directly at her hard, firm ass. It has been a long time since he has had a woman this way. And although he understands the need to be delicate, his body is straining to release a pent-up fury driven by the wanton, lusting desire of, and for, the woman before him. As he moves his lubricated shaft towards her asshole he sees a small mark on her otherwise blemishless skin, just a few centimeters from the valley that divides the two rock-hard, glorious globes of her gluts. It is most likely an abortive attempt at a tattoo. Just a single dot, one needle jab, a design cut short in a flash of realization. What would it have been? And eagle? A dragon? A bunch of wild flowers on the top of these gorgeous mounds of muscle? He grasps them in his hands, squeezes them in his powerful grip and remembers his first. Billy. Patty. How much alike they are. And now they will have one thing more in common. He moves to her, presses against her and, with a slow, agonizing groan, moves into her. Minute detail: Patty is on her back on the sofa, her legs hanging off the front, feet on the floor. Arnold is on his knees before her, his tongue gently lapping at the warm juices that flow from her. Patty is somewhat pensive, enjoying the low hum his activity is generating. Every once in a while she runs her fingers through his hair and pulls his head to her a little more, silently asking him to increase the pressure. When he has fully stimulated the lips, he begins to raise his mouth, his tongue, his efforts, until he is seeking out her clit, briefly, haltingly, seductively, maddeningly. He reaches for her lips and separates them to get a look at his goal. Droplets of honeyed-dew cling to her and, hidden, deep under its hood, he finds his goal of joy. He flicks his tongue. She cries out with a small chirp. He flicks again. The chirp raises a pitch. Two flicks and he gets two more notes, each successively higher. He flicks hard and fast, Patty slides up the scale until the tension in her voice can take no more. She holds the note, exhaling slowly, the sound just a tickle on the ear. She takes a deep breath and hums again, each tease of his tongue triggering a little crescendo. He presses in harder and the note becomes strained, filled with delicious tension. Her breaths become gasps and her notes become machine gun fire. Her hips press up against his mouth and she grabs his hair to pull him harder to her. His tongue works faster, spurred on by her staccato. In her final seconds, she contracts her body, presses her hands against the sides of his head, pulls him deep against her and releases a long, high, wailing note that slowly drops in pitch as the orgasm is wrung from her. Minute detail: They are standing in the middle of the living room, the sound of surf rolling through the balcony door. In turn, they are flexing their bodies for each other, enjoying the touch of a hand, the press of a breast, the wet coolness of lips or tongue. They press against each other just to feel the strength, the power of each other. They pull against each other, strain, push, fight, flex, feel. Arnold flexes his right thigh and Patty presses her cunt against it. He squats a bit and Patty straddles the huge leg. She rubs herself back and forth against him, her moist cunt leaving a cool trail of juice along the length of his upper leg. His cock becomes hard and soon is caught between his own leg and Patty's as she rides back and forth. Arnold takes her breasts into his hands and holds them, molds them, presses them, squeezes them. His hands move to the outside of the firm flesh and press them together. Patty moans and pulls herself to him, riding up to the top of his thigh. Now her breasts are pressed against his chest and she is toying with his own massive chest, flicking the nipples, dragging her fingers across the expanse of his pecs. She reaches behind her and grabs the length of his cock as it sticks out. Arnold lowers himself to the floor and, as his shoulders touch, Patty lifts her body, directs the head of his cock to her, and presses herself down onto him. Smear of sight: Muscle. Bulging, burgeoning, bulbous, bulky, beautiful muscle. Smear of sound: Loud screams. Soft moans. Long, drawn out sighs. Hard, jabbing cries of pleasure/pain. Deep, staggering breaths, gulping for air. Smear of smell: Patty pulling his jock strap out from under her for the countless hundredth time, diving into it, face first, breathing in so deeply it adheres to her. Smear of taste: The salty, musk-filled taste of his own cum as he curls around the end of his cock and drinks himself in, mixed with the taste of Patty's own mouth as she joins him at the top of his cock to help him. Smear of touch: Light tickles. Hard, heavy heaving. The hot, firm embrace of Patty's cunt around the full length of his gloriously hard, eleven-and-a-half inch cock. And sleep. Deep inside each other. No fears, no misgivings, no powerful experiences to scare them and keep them up all night wondering what had happened. Every now and then, a tentative rising to the surface, pressing into her a little deeper, her muscles contracting around him. And, once, the soft, whispering flow of a gentle orgasm that neither knew was there. She was doing it again. The light tickle of her eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. He knew not to open his eyes because there would be nothing to see but hair. As soon as she knew he was awake, she'd stop. He'd wait. After a while his hands sought out the deep, flowing muscles of her back. As his hands ran across them he could see, in his mind's eye, the exercise used to work each one. Hundred's of tons of cold, hard inertia had been moved to create the pattern of rippling energy he felt beneath his fingertips. He swept his hands into the hard bowl of the lower spine and then onto the glorious mounds of her gluts. For the hundredth time he grabbed them, squeezed them, pressed them, massaged them, remembering his groin pressing against them in the fury of a bright, blistering moment of anal copulation. So tight, so firm, so energized, he had only been able to thrust a few times before the orgasm had ripped through him. Finally, it was he who had forgotten to breathe. And, like Billy and Peter and many others whom he had backed his own ass up against, he had collapsed on top of her broad, muscular back, to be lowered to the floor, his still erect cock clamped deep inside her. And when he had come back to the surface, she was still pumping herself up and down his persistent shaft. And what room would he find himself in when his eyes finally opened? He figured it was the bedroom. The surface under him felt very much like a bed, although he knew the sofa in the living room was a futon as well. The sound of the waves, the noises of a beach just coming to life with the early morning activities of joggers and beach combers and the distant crescendo of traffic, seemed a bit too distant to be coming from a nearby window. She lifted her head. His eyes met hers and a smile flowed onto each of their faces. He placed his hands on the back of her neck, pulled her to him and drank her into his soul. She was tender where she needed to be, formidable and challenging where he needed her to be, alive and fresh where he wanted her to be. Nothing had been left undone. In the course of it all they had done everything to each other that either of them had wanted to do. Each desire had been met with absolute acceptance, each action met with total compliance. He hoped she was feeling as fulfilled. Only one way to find out, though. "What can I do for you?" "Huh?" "Is there anything you want to do? Anything. Name it." "What do you mean?" "I was just thinking how completely satisfied I was. I was hoping it was the same for you. I don't want to stop until we've done it all. Everything. I want to be your fantasy. Your deepest, most secret desire." Something stirred in Patty's mind. Something so private, so hidden, so stimulating, the mere thought of it made her crush her groin against Arnold's massive thigh. She rubbed herself up and down and he flexed to increase the sensation. "What?" Patty smiled mischievously. "What is it? Tell me. As long as no one gets hurt, I want to do it." Arnold's cock was growing stiff in contemplation. What covert reverie could elicit such a reaction in her? She felt him grow and ran her fingers down the length of his shaft to his scrotum. She toyed with one ball and then the other, lifted them, let them slide back down into their sack. Arnold got harder. The suspense was as good as the fact. Finally, she raised her eyes back to his. "Peter." Arnold's hips made an involuntary thrust against her hand. He was almost instantaneously and completely erect. "Do you think he'd mind if we called him at this hour?" Patty's raised eyebrow put that question in its place. "All right. Next stupid question. Do you have his phone number?" "It's in my address book." "Do you want to call him or should I?" "He's still a little iffy on this girl thing. Maybe you should talk to him and break it to him slowly, guy to guy. But. . ." "But. . ." "I think we should call him from your apartment." "Huh?" "From your apartment." It took him a moment to figure out what she was really getting at. Then he remembered the can of spray lubricant, the screwdriver and wrench, the divider leaning against the far end of Chris's balcony. Of course Patty had seen all of this. "I was kind of wondering when you'd get around to asking about that." "I was kind of wondering when you'd get around to telling me about that. You certainly didn't waste any time increasing your living space." "Chris lost the key to her apartment. The lock on her door requires a key on the inside and out. So until she could get a new one, it was the only way for her to get in and out of her place." "And now that she has her key. . .?" "I suspect the divider will probably stay down. We seem to have hit it off rather nicely last night. Very nicely. Very, very nicely." "I get the drift. Was she the one you thought might be watching us in the parking lot?" "I knew she was. She took lots of photos of me, but I don't remember seeing any of you." Arnold chuckled. "It's funny. I purposely forgot my own keys last night so I'd have an excuse to remove your divider, as well. I should have just let things take their natural course." "No keys, huh?" "Nope." "So you're kind of at my mercy, huh?" "Well, I could hop around the divider like I did with Chris, but that would be very uncomfortable, seeing as I don't have my shorts anymore." "Yeah. Real uncomfortable. So I guess you'll just have to disassemble my wall as well." "Yeah. What a shame. You mind?" "That depends." "On what?" "At the gym on Sunday, after you left, Peter made a couple of observations that I felt were rather insightful." "He's a very bright man. He doesn't give himself enough credit." "Peter seems to have been hiding a lot of candles under his basket. Anyway, one of the things he said was that he got the feeling from you that there were no barriers between people. It was you and whoever you were with at the time. Kind of a share and share a like thing." "And. . .?" "I was just wondering how accurate that was." "Like I said, Peter is very bright." "And if, say, you happened to find yourself in bed with two women, each of whom shared a balcony with your apartment, how would you choose?" "I wouldn't." "But if you had to?" "I wouldn't. I wouldn't have to. There's no choice to be made. Throw Peter in there, too. And Greg. And anyone else you want. I won't choose. No need. Haven't you ever felt yourself so full you thought you could take on the world?" "Well, last night comes to mind." "Exactly. Didn't you want the whole world to share what we had last night, cry out your joy, wrap your arms around creation and hug it to you." "I don't quite see the connection." "That's what I want to do. I don't want to hide the love I have for you in some deep, secret pocket. I want to throw that love around everyone else; let them share the magnificent experience of last night. You said you want Peter here. Look at me. The thought of it has made me so hard, it aches. But why stop there? Why just Peter?" "I hadn't planned on a big affair, just the immediate family." "That's okay. And I asked you what you wanted. Fair enough. But after that, what? Are you afraid of loosing me?" Patty couldn't answer that, either with words or with her eyes. Arnold pulled her face back to his. His gaze engaged her and he silently dared her to answer to the affirmative. Finally she shook her head. "All right. Tell me how this all works." "How what works?" "Stop playing dumb with me. This. You. Me. Peter. Chris." "Don't stop there. There's Sam and Ed. Old friends whom you'll be meeting soon. And I don't know how long I'll be able to keep my hands off the guy Chris slept with last night. Don't you see how big this can get? I'm so proud of what I did with you last night, I want to share that with the entire world. One or two at a time. And then they'll take it and spread it. Each time we come to each other, we will be the sum of all those we will be with before. I have been so very blessed in my life. The trail that leads me to you here is peopled with such marvelous, loving souls. And each of them is here, in my soul. I gave them to you last night. And you'll give them to the next person you're with." His face got serious and he stressed his next words with a slight tightening of his grip on her face. "Don't be ashamed of what we have here. And don't be selfish, either. Because I know you're not a selfish person. Take my love because I love to give it to you. Give my love because I gave it to you. Bring me the love of others and share it with me because you love me, and I you, and let me feel the love they have filled you with. I have loved you this night because you are so very worthy of it. Please, think the same of all those whom you have and will share yourself with." Patty could say nothing. And after a moment, when she realized there was nothing to hide and no reason to hide it, she let silent tears weep from her eyes as she took his smile for her own and hoped she would be able to understand this fully one day. For the moment, it was enough to feel the love of this beautiful man wash over her heart and to rejoice in the ability to know it. She hadn't always considered herself the sensitive type. She was just beginning to realize how shallowly she had seen herself. When held up to the mirror of true, uninhibited passion for her fellow human, her little motherly worryings seemed to pale in comparison. She had a long way to grow. "I think the hardest part of all this is going to be dropping the 'tough broad' persona. I guess it has to do with letting people in, huh? Really in." "Even tougher is letting the real you out. Really out. Every time you feel yourself fighting to let someone in, look to yourself. You can't control how the other person reacts. But you can let yourself open up so they have an easier time. We build our own walls, and they limit not only other people's movements, but our own as well. I move through other people's lives because I have no walls, therefore I have nothing to stop me. But I also respect the fears of others, sensing what I can do to make their getting to know me easier." "You are very easy to get to know." "I've built myself that way. I make it so people want to get to know me on the physical level. Once I've got their attention, the rest is easy. Their guard is down and I'm inside them before they know it." "Sneaky fucker." "Yeah, Literally." Arnold's stomach gurgled demonstratively, causing them both to laugh. "Do you think it's too late for dinner?" "Probably just as easy to call it breakfast by now. I can't believe I haven't even thought of food." "I'm not. I haven't had my physical being so wonderfully distracted in many years. You have filled my needs completely. But now, it's time to turn to more practical matters." "Tell you what. You work at getting that fiberglass piece of shit removed, I'll whip us up something decent. I heard you knocking those weights together yesterday before you got here. You must be famished." "I'll be all right. Then, once I can get to my apartment, we'll call Peter, okay?" "Mmmmmmm." Patty pressed her full breasts against Arnold's chest, ground herself against his groin, slid down his body on the way off the bed, lingering for a moment to spend some time with his huge erection, and then moved out of the room. Arnold watched her leave, the cool trail of her kisses leaving shivers in their path. As she released his cock it flipped heavily up onto his abdomen where it slapped down with a solid thump. He felt the weight of it as it lay on him, the heat of it, the hardness of it. It would be so easy to keep this all for himself; so simple to just fall in love with his own body, not bothering to seek anyone else out. He truly loved his body, felt every moment with it as a glorious gift. But then he would open it up to someone like Patty and the experience of his body would be multiplied a thousand-fold. She was so strong. So firm. So determined to enjoy herself as much as he was. He had wanted to masturbate for her last night, had wanted her to watch as he sucked himself off, but she had enjoyed it too much, had gotten so much from his joy, understanding the feelings in his body, that she was unable to sit by and watch. She wanted so much to help him, be with him. And in her own way, with her own grand proportions, understood the physical, tangible ecstasy of having such a remarkable physical being. And now his cock was rock hard. It demanded attention. Should he wait? Should he call her back in, go to her? Or could he enjoy the moment by himself, giving himself what he needed, what he could not express to, or expect from, any other person? As he rolled back on his shoulders and curled his body into an upside down comma, he grabbed the rigid mass of manflesh before him, drew it to his mouth with one hand and reached for his scrotum with the other. Balls in one hand, cock in the other, he wished someone would thrust something deep into his ass. Even onanism had its shortcomings. And, shortly, he came. "Thanks for dinner or breakfast or whatever that was." "Better late than never. You want so more juice?" "Sure. Peter should be here any minute. I hope he isn't as powered as he sounded on the phone." "Come on, Arnold. How do you expect him to react, getting a phone call at this hour from you? Besides, he must know that I'm involved, too. The question is: are you ready to handle him?" "All I have to do is remember the past twenty-four hours. I haven't been this horny since the day I lost my cherry." "That's this Sam you were talking about, huh?" "Yes." During the meal, Patty had given Arnold the message with Sam and Ed's phone number on it. Arnold felt it a convenient enough time to discuss that portion of his past and what these two people meant to him. In light of their previous conversation, Patty had taken it all pretty much in stride. He had hoped she would, though he had worried that the idea of these two major influences on his life reappearing right now, combined with his recent union with Peter, might have put her over the edge of her tolerance. As it turned out, he had nothing to fear. She seemed to be enjoying the ever-widening circle of possible sex partners. This amused Arnold just a little. Never had he met anyone as hungry for raw, unbridled sex as this powerful, loving woman. Never, that is, except for Sam. "You know that Peter knows her?" Patty was only half surprised. "Sam? You're joking." "Nope. We were comparing notes and he mentioned her. Seemed she tried to get something going with him before he knew what he was really about." "Wait a minute. He was telling me about her the other day. He said you reminded him of this lady. Small world." "Reminded him? How?" "I think you know the answer to that. Besides, that must be him. You can ask him yourself." "I'll get it." Arnold pulled the robe closed around him, tightened the cloth belt, pulled Patty's hand off the head of his cock which was dangling over the edge of his seat, and headed for the door. He hadn't been very specific about why he was inviting Peter over, but the odd hour of his phone call probably gave Peter enough to figure it out for himself. "Hi Peter." "Hi, Arn." Peter was dressed in a pair of cut-offs and a well-worn sweatshirt from which the sleeves and approximately half the material of the body had been removed, as well as the collar. The neck had been split open to halfway down. And under these clothes, his whole body was bulging with a fresh pump. Everything. Arnold stretched out his arms and gave the young man a deep, encircling hug. From the feel of him, he had been at the weights quite recently, and for a fair amount of time. Peter had jogged over, not owning a car, and a sexy, moist sheen of perspiration coated his body. Arnold remembered Peter's hint about Patty's affection for smells. Yes, Peter knew what he was here for. His chest expanded with deep breaths. He pressed himself hard against Arnold's body, one hand reaching between them to stroke the long, thick length of manflesh which was becoming stiffer with each moment of their contact. Arnold gave into the openness of the young man and their lips found each other as their hands explored the hard definitions of their bodies. "Can I get you something to drink. You're putting off a lot of liquids there." "Yeah, sure. Some juice?" "Fresh squeezed?" "Great." "Got a nice pump on there. You just come from the gym?" "Yeah. I was too wound up after yesterday, so I got there just as Greg was closing up. Told him I'd take care of locking the door. I hadn't been home too long when you called. Kinda had to, ya know?" "Yeah. I know. Why don't you go into the living room. I'll bring the juice in." "Ah, sure. Thanks. Um. . . Patty there?" "Yeah. I'll just be a second." "Ah. . . okay. See ya in a second." Arnold made himself busy with the juicer, pulverizing some oranges and demolishing some carrots. By the time he got done it looked so good he drank it himself, and had to make another for Peter. By the time the second juice was ready he figured he had given the two of them enough time to sort things out. He spent a few moments cleaning the machine then headed into the living room with Peter's drink. As he reached the end of the hall, he stopped to listen. There was no sound. He moved forward a step and saw Peter facing away from him. His young back tapered wonderfully from broad, promising shoulders down to a tight, solid waist. The cut-offs hugged his muscular ass, accenting the curves of those muscles. Arnold could see the definition of his various muscle groups starting to take shape. He subtly flexed and tensed his own muscles, remembering what it was like at that age, the pump just beginning to have real meaning, real effect. Peter still hadn't moved, so Arnold took another small step into the room. Now he could see Patty, who was standing, facing him. She was waiting for something and her eyes flicked over Peter's shoulder to Arnold, a slight smile flashing on her face. Peter, sensing his presence behind him, said, "You in on this, Arn?" "Depends on what you're talking about." "Patty says you two have some sort of agreement that seems to involve me." "Here's your juice." Peter turned to take it and Arnold could see that his cut-offs were fighting valiantly to restrain a raging hard-on. Peter followed his gaze, looking down at his own crotch. "Guess it would be kinda hard to say I wasn't interested." Patty reached out and lightly touched his shoulder. "You never were a very good liar." She dragged her fingernails down his arm with agonizing slowness. Peter's eyelids dropped, his head fell back and a long, soft moan escaped from his lips. Arnold moved to him and ran his hand down Peter's other arm. Although not massive, the muscle was hard and shapely. He grasped the bulk of the bicep and tightened his grip around it. Peter bent his arm and flexed the muscle against Arnold's hand. Arnold knew what this was about; the feeling of hot, pumped muscle under the strong, firm grip of another. Arnold lifted the arm up until Peter's hand was even with the glass of juice he was still proffering. "You'd better drink this. You'll need it." Peter took the drink. As he consumed it he turned back to Patty who was still waiting for an answer to a question Arnold didn't know had been asked. "Well?" Peter finished the drink, handed the glass back to Arnold without turning and, when his hand was free, moved to Patty and pressed his young, muscular body to her. In that moment, Arnold recalled a time, ten years before, when he had moved into the arms of a woman older than him. Mary. She had also been so hard, so firm, so loving. And that evening he had gone past everything he had known about love and physical union, had found a secret in himself, answered questions about his own needs and life and then moved beyond Mary to the greatest adventure of all, truly falling in love. Would Peter receive as much in Patty's loving arms? Arnold hoped Peter would find in her the ability to love a person regardless of their sex. For with his ability to read other people, help other people, see the needs and sense their feelings, Peter was well on his way to being able to fill other people's lives as Arnold, himself, tried to do. And then Arnold's job would be a little easier. He moved to the other two, dropping the robe to the floor as he went. Peter seemed not the least bit startled by the amount of naked flesh that pressed against him. Within seconds, Patty had disrobed as well and was working on the zipper to Peter's cut-offs while Arnold was pulling the tattered sweatshirt up over the top of his head. The shorts dropped to the floor, leaving Peter in socks, shoes and jockstrap. Patty and Arnold each took a foot and slowly, ritually, removed the footwear. Now there was only the jockstrap. Arnold moved away slightly and indicated this was between Patty and her fantasy. "You okay with this, Peter?" she asked. "It seems okay, so far. I know it would feel a whole lot better if I didn't have this thing on." "May I?" "Please." Patty pulled the front of the waistband away from Peter's stomach and then pulled it down to reveal a raging, turgid erection, painfully twisted inside the cup. As she lowered it, his cock snapped free and bounced up and down before him. Arnold could see Patty's desire and relieved her of jockstrap duty, finishing the removal of the garment. "I want to suck your cock, Peter. I really want to." "I think it's okay. I don't feel any of the scared stuff like the last time. Just take it slow, okay?" Patty dropped to her knees in front of the youth and gingerly placed her hands around his shaft. A brief intake of air seemed to be related to passion rather than pain, so Patty continued. Arnold moved up behind Peter and pressed his ever-hard cock against the back of his legs and ass. Peter reached down with one hand and held the top of Patty's head. With the other he reached up over his shoulder and pulled Arnold's head to his own. Arnold looked over Peter's shoulder and watched Patty's progress. She had a firm hold of his cock and was lightly licking the very tip with quick, flicking motions of her tongue. Arnold pressed harder against Peter's ass and Peter spread his legs just a little. Arnold's huge cock swung up between his legs and Patty was now confronted with two shafts of cockmeat. She wrapped her hands around both of them, pressing them together. Peter became very distracted and started pumping his hips. Arnold felt the heat of Peter's cock, the weight of his scrotum as it lay on the top of his own shaft. He began his own motions, counter to that of Peter's, and Patty was soon licking and sucking the two men as fast as her mouth could travel. Peter drove himself harder against Patty's mouth and Arnold's groin. He squeezed his legs together to increase the pressure on the cock trapped between his thighs. His moans became more labored, more desperate and, for a moment, Arnold feared that some of the old trouble was coming back to haunt him. There seemed to be some moment of panic on Peter's part, a fight for control, but then his internal workings took over and he had no choice. He was cumming. He was pumping cum into Patty's eager mouth, pressing her head against his crotch, frantically trying to satisfy powerful urges so basic to his needs that even his ghosts couldn't fight them. Arnold leaned over Peter's shoulder again and watched as Patty sucked the last of Peter's orgasm out of his cock. She was paying attention to Arnold's cock, as well, but her focus was on their young friend. When she had finished, she stood, spread her legs, and pressed herself hard against Peter, trapping both cocks between her legs, as well. She gently kissed the youth on the lips. Arnold was not sure how the youth would respond; thought this might be bringing it too close to home. But Peter took it all in stride, pressing his kisses back to Patty with increasing desire and need. "Can we go into your workout room, Arn?" "It's okay with me. You'll have to talk to the guy who's got my cock trapped between his legs, though." "It's fine with me. Anything particular in mind?" "You just come with me, my fine young stud. I'm taking a trip down Fantasy Lane." The three separated unwillingly and moved to the room containing Arnold's home gym. Peter walked around the central piece of gear, stroking it, rubbing it, lifting and pulling its various cables and bars. Patty had opted for the separate bench press. She set a barbell with one hundred twenty pounds on the stand then sat down on the bench. "Come here, stud." Peter moved towards her. She reached out and took his cock in her hands. He was still very stiff and a little manipulation put the hard edge back on his erection. "How you feel about having some real sex?" "You mean. . ." "Yeah. I want that sweet cock inside me. I can promise you I'll make it worth your while." "I'll give it a try. Never had too much luck before." "You never had two hot bodies like ours to get you running before. Arnie, give him some pec action, will ya?" Arnold alternately flexed his pecs and they bounced up and down on his chest. He reached up and grabbed both nipples, twisting them until they were sore and inflamed. He moved behind Patty, his still rigid cock pressing against her back. She squirmed back against it and Peter seemed to be overcome. He started to sway as he watched the two incredible bodies before him. Patty gently yanked on his cock to bring him back to reality. He looked at her, glassy eyed and lustful. "I think I need to do something here." "What's that, Peter?" "I think I need to fuck something. I think I want to do some sex stuff." "Peter? You want to try it with me? You want Arnold to help?" "I don't need no help, Patty. I need to. . . to. . ." "Fuck?" "Yeah. Fuck." Patty laid down much lower on the bench than normal to allow Peter better access between her legs. Arnold took the bar off the stand, handed it to Patty and then stood by to spot her. Again he remembered another first time for him. He was on the bench press and Billy had just measured his cock. And now he was pumping the free weights and Billy was giving him his first man to man blow job. And Peter was moving between Patty's legs, grabbing each of her thighs and lifting her until his cock was poised at the opening to her cunt. He looked at Arnold, then at Patty. His eyes were filled with the wonder of the sight before him. There was so much awe, so much desire and lust, leaving no room for doubt or fear. Arnold swung a leg over the bench, bent his knees enough to bring his ponderous scrotum in contact with Patty's mouth, and slowly flexed all his muscles until he was so tight, so big, so ripped, Peter had no choice. His need to pump his cock against something overtook the last vestiges of doubt. Patty lowered the bar to her chest, sucked one of Arnold's balls into her mouth, rolled it around with her tongue for a few seconds, pushed it back out and began to press the barbell into the air. Her pecs exploded with the effort and Peter moved his cock forward until he was pressing at her gate. As Patty's arms became fully extended Peter made his move and slid inside her. Arnold was ready and quickly spotted the bar until she could get her strength back. Before she could even regain control, Peter was driving his cock in and out of her with wild abandon. It occurred to Arnold that, though Patty might ultimately be thankful for Peter's quick work, considering the difficulty she was having managing the barbell, it might be a shame to have this all end so soon. Peter's arms were bulging as he supported the weight of the lower half of Patty's body. His abdominals flexed and rippled as he thrust his pelvis. Patty took the bar from Arnold and resumed her exercise. Once Arnold was certain she had it under control he sat on the bench just above her head and pressed his hands into her magnificent breasts, worrying the nipples, feeling the power of her pecs, running his hands up the backs of her arms to increase the sensation in her triceps. Again, Peter's cries became desperate, but this time it was a desperation for release. His head was back again, wagging left and right. Arnold tried to watch the young man and still watch for Patty's needs. Her massive, bulging muscles lead him to believe she was in control. The weight, after all, was nothing compared to what she would use in the course of a regular session. And she was taking it nice and slow, enjoying the sensation of the effort, rather than going for some muscular result. Patty, herself, was beginning to moan, and although she probably wasn't going to cum before Peter, she didn't seem to be lacking for stimulation. She cursed and cried and groaned as she fought to push the barbell into the air against the attacks of her lover. The battle for energy was quickly being won by the lower half of her body and she pushed the bar up one last time and thrust it into Arnold's hands. Arnold placed the bar on the floor next to the bench and sat back to watch his two friends. What he had thought at first to be Peter's eminent orgasm turned out to be just the beginning. Arnold sensed Peter's focus turning from his own driving need to that of Patty's. His rhythm changed. His speed changed. The power of his thrusts changed and Patty suddenly found herself being driven up a very quick ramp towards an explosive orgasm of her own. The surprise of it was as stimulating as the actual event. Peter was watching her intently. Arnold saw him make minute adjustments in response to the way Patty was acting. Deeper and deeper, higher and higher. Arnold's own cock was getting very hard just watching these two. He thought about cumming, felt it happen in his mind; how Patty's talented internal muscles would feel on the length of his shaft and felt the driving need to be deep inside her. Patty reached up and grabbed his cock, more out of desperation than anything. She pulled it to her mouth, licked and sucked it and Arnold felt the surge in his balls. He grabbed the end of his cock, beyond where Patty was holding it, squeezed it hard and flexed again. Peter was watching. He saw Arnold's body explode, saw the massive cock turn dark red and swell. He saw Patty desperately licking him, raking her fingernails over the length of it. Arnold could see Patty's abdominals begin to work as she focused her strength on dealing with the cock that drove into her. The movements of all three muscular bodies reached a fevered pitch, a vibration beginning to resonate between them, and then the release. Arnold's cock spewed hot globs of cum across the space between himself and Peter. Peter felt the hot splat on his abdomen and reacted by driving his first orgasm into a woman's vagina. Patty, feeling the release of the two amazing men around her, pushed herself against Peter and felt the flow of her own lava rumble through her body. She licked and sucked on the huge cock suspended above her face until she felt the driving actions of her two lovers subside. Peter lowered Patty's body until her feet touched the floor. He then sank to his knees and leaned forward, laying on Patty's body, Arnold's cock dangling before him. He teased the tip of it with his tongue while his hands played across Patty's upper torso. Patty threw her arms around Peter's chest and held him to her. She gazed up around the shaft of Arnold's cock and smiled at him. Arnold knew she was thanking him, but also knew there was no reason. Peter was there because he wanted to be. Peter had done everything because he had wanted to. And Patty had been loving enough, unselfish enough, open enough, to allow Peter to go at his own speed. "Hey, Arn?" "Yeah Peter." "Don't think this gets you out of workout this afternoon." "Thought never crossed my mind." "And don't worry. We can still be friends." Patty was laughing so hard she almost fell off the bench. Arnold sank to his knees next to her. Peter stared at them both as though he didn't understand what was so funny. The other two tried to stop laughing, afraid they were hurting his feelings. Soon a smug, knowing smirk crept over Peter's face and Patty grabbed him and pulled him to her. They spent the rest of the morning testing each other's strength, each other's needs, each other's depths, until Patty announced that her fantasy had been fulfilled. Peter and Arnold washed Patty in the shower and then each other. And it wasn't until just shortly before three in the afternoon that they all finally made it over to The Pump House. Greg was again at the front desk and asked Arnold if he had gotten the message from his friends. "Yeah." "They were in again this morning, looking for you." "Oh, right. Can I borrow your phone?" "You want to use the one in the office?" "I guess I'd better. Thanks." Patty grabbed Peter's right bicep and pulled him towards the stairway. "Come on, Peter. It's about time the boss lady started tapping into your expertise. Let's hit the weights." "Hello?" "Sam?" "Arn. Hi. How are ya?" "Great. Just great." "Where are you?" "I'm at the gym. Sorry I missed you. My schedule's been kind of messed up these first few days." "That's okay. . . Your voice is a little lower than the last time." "Yeah, I'm no longer a soprano." "How are you?" "Great. Now. And you?" "Great. Now. When can we see you?" "Ed?" "Yeah. He flew in last night." "I know. I saw him on the beach talking to a friend of mine yesterday." "When I told him I thought I'd seen you at Norma's he canceled a show at Ivan's and caught the next plane here." "Did I just miss you At Norma's?" "Yeah. I guess it wasn't the right place for us to meet." "No, I guess not. How about dinner tonight?" "Sure. You want to come over here?" "Why don't you come to my place. I just moved in yesterday." "Sure. What time?" "Seven." "Okay, Arnold." "Ed knows the place. Just tell him it's where he met Chris yesterday. Apartment six-oh-seven." "He told me he'd met someone who knew you. Funny how it didn't really surprise either of us. You want us to bring something?" "Yes. You. Please. I'll see you at seven, okay?" "We'll be there. See you." "Sam. . .?" "Yes, Arnold?" "I love you both very much, Sam. You and Ed." "Ten years is a long time, Arnold." "I haven't changed that much. I promise." "See you tonight." "Bye." "G'bye." It had been nothing like he thought it would. So tentative, so reserved. There seemed to be too much unresolved. But how could he expect a decade of issues to be fixed by a simple phone call? Still, he had hoped it would have been more. . . more. . . The tears came unbidden. After a while he felt himself move past the pain of his hurt expectations. It was enough that he would see them again. Once they were together, once the energy was flowing between himself and all the amazing people he would gather around him, there would be no more need for pain. He could feel the circle of his life moving towards closure. Soon, there would be no more sadness. Soon. He took several deep breaths, feeling a strength move in and through his body. Then he filled his life with Patty and Peter for the next two hours, focusing on the basics and, in doing so, remembering the path he had been walking. And how the path had chosen him.