Date: Wed, 18 May 2016 17:12:41 +0000 (UTC) From: Boyatt Hart Subject: Bull Sessions (episode 3 - part 1) I'm grateful to the kind folks at Nifty Archive for giving us this forum to share our sexual adventures and/or fantasies and strongly encourage you to donate to them by going to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html. If you're reading and not giving back then you're robbing yourself when you get right down to it. I give permission only to Nifty Archive to publish this and respectfully ask that you read and leave it here rather than repost it to any other of your favorite online forums for sexual content. Given the length of this episode I thought it best to split it into two parts. BULL SESSIONS by Boyatt Hart Episode 3 - The Lifting Buddy (part 1) The next weekend Luther had a date to get some pussy so I decided to go back to Old Eighty Eights in hopes of spending more time with Everett. I got there early enough to have dinner at Luigi's again thinking I might see him there, but no luck. When I walked in there was someone else at the piano. I went up to Phil at the bar and shook his hand. "Budweiser," I said, "Where's Everett?" "Went out of town for the weekend. Set me up with this fellow as his replacement," came his reply. "Thanks," I said as he pushed my beer across the bar, "Guess I'll just mix and mingle, then." "You were a big hit last time," he said with a wink, "I suspect you'll get a nibble or two." I thanked him and then turned to look over the small but growing crowd. Spying a couple of the fellows from the group I'd taken up with on my previous visit I walked over and joined them at their table. They greeted me with much back slapping and copping of a few quick feels. Their attention and acceptance felt nice and we picked up right where we'd left off. The replacement piano man was pretty good but he was no Everett; neither on the keys nor as eye candy. However, the atmosphere was just as lively and I soon found myself in the midst of another great evening. Around ten o'clock I saw a young man in his early twenties walk in. He was a good sized fellow with sandy light brown hair who clearly shared my interest in lifting. His build was impressively thick and muscular with a fairly low center of gravity. He kept to himself, but once he spied me his eyes followed my every move. "Looks like you've got a new fan," one of my table mates teased. "Yeah, good looking kid but too young for me," I replied. As I kept making the rounds and chatting various men up I saw him keeping tabs on me. I decided to go introduce myself. He looked a little uneasy as he saw me approaching the bar where he sat. "Terry," I said as I stuck my hand out to him, "and you are?" "Glen," he said looking a little flustered and unable to keep his eyes off my belly. "Pleased to meet you, Glen," I said as he accepted my hand. His was good sized and sinewy, although a bit smaller than mine and surprisingly smooth for a guy who obviously had pushed some good poundage. Like a typical 'young buck' he couldn't resist testing my grip as he pumped my hand. I acknowledged it with a smile and responded with enough force to make him wince before releasing him. "Hell of a grip you've got there!" he said with a mix of embarrassment and admiration. "You, too," I responded good naturedly, "You've clearly pushed some heavy iron." "Not as much as you," he said making a show of shaking his hand. "Looks like you're about empty there. Another?" I asked. "Love one," he replied, "Budweiser." "Can we have a couple more Buds here, Phil?" I asked. The man on my other side apparently found my tight fit between them uncomfortable enough that he quickly vacated his bar stool, so I pulled it over and sat facing Glen with my legs parted. I studied his masculine features as his eyes roved down my chest to my belly and finally lingered on the bulge in the crotch of my slightly too tight slacks. I found myself thinking that if he were ten years my senior rather than my junior he would be pretty much everything I love in a man. I startled him a bit when I reached down and interrupted his gaze by lazily scratching the object of his attention for his benefit. He looked up into my eyes and blushed. "I'm sorry," he stammered, "It's my first time in a place like this." "It's nothing to be embarrassed about," I assured him with a smile as I laid my hand on his shoulder, "I dare say every man in here including me likes them." He laughed and regained his composure. I complimented his build and moved the conversation to lifting. He lit up and quizzed me at length about my routine, surprised that I worked out alone in my garage. I asked about his as well. He belonged to a gym that advocated those universal machines. We talked about the pros and cons of free weights versus machines. He said his whole reason for taking up lifting was to gain the kind of muscular bulk I had, but that the focus at his gym was more on definition. He'd added what bulk he had in spite of the admonitions of the gym staff and asked me what I thought he needed to do make the gains he was really after. I explained that definition was the entire reason behind their machines because they isolated only the muscles that function in a given movement, and that I thought the gains he wanted would be more readily made if he switched to free weights. "I've achieved this much bulk because my entire body gets used in every exercise I perform," I said, "For example, holding a loaded barbell level to maintain proper form when I do curls requires the effort of a whole host of peripheral muscle groups. They respond accordingly. And, since the only equipment I use is a bench, every other exercise requires me to clean the weight to commence it. I think cleans are the most effective way to develop a strong core." "No squat rack?" he asked. "Nope," I confirmed, "I like the idea of functional strength in practical applications. I can't think of many applications where something heavy would already be positioned high enough for me to just step right under it and go. And every practical application of lifting heavy things I can think of requires you to maintain your balance with them." "Good point," he observed. "I do grant that my legs would be a lot stronger if I worked with a rack, though. Lighter weights and higher reps is generally another part of a recipe for definition," I admitted, "but it's the one sacrifice I make in the interest of strengthening my core." "So how much do you squat under that condition?" he asked. "Front or back squats?" I asked him to clarify. "Both," he shot back. "295 on the fronts because that's the limit on my ability to clean right now. Last night I got fifteen, thirteen and twelve for reps. Back squats I did 275 because that's my current limit for getting the bar off my clavs and behind my head." "That's what you call working light?" he asked looking a little astonished, "How many reps?" "Two sets of twenty and one of seventeen," I replied, "Technically I should be able to do heavier poundages with the back squats than the front because your hips and shoulders naturally stay directly under the weight. It wants to tip forward during the front squats." "This probably helps keep it centered," he said as he reached out and ran his hand over my belly. "No doubt it plays a role," I said with a laugh as I laid my hand on his and pressed it to me. "Damn! That thing feels like a boulder!" he exclaimed. "Strong core," I replied observing the growing lump in his crotch as he admired my paunch, "can't lift heavy without one. And, to your point, I don't think of it as 'working light', just working within my limits under the circumstance, which keeps me focused on expanding those limits." In spite of his youthful age I found myself taking a liking to him as we talked at length about our mutual interest in weights. He asked whether I favored Olympic lifting or powerlifting, owning up to his greater admiration for the brute strength of powerlifting. "I think the Olympic lifts require more athleticism," I replied, "and, as such, develop a more usable strength." "Now I understand how you settled on the exercises you built your routine around," he said while studying my size advantage, "Only a fool would argue with your results." "Well, trust me...if one of those monster powerlifter guys challenged my philosophy I would be the last one to tell him that his ideas on strength are misguided," I said, bringing a laugh from him. He openly looked me over some more with an expression that suggested he was screwing up his courage to broach a topic he was not entirely comfortable with. After some silence he finally came out with it. "Is there any chance I could get you to fuck me? Tonight, I mean?" he asked, appearing to brace himself for rejection. "Glen, you're a great looking guy so I'd be a fool to say no," I said, looking serious as I sized up the sexy contours of his husky build, "Are you sure that's what you want?" "Never been so sure!" he confirmed with a wide smile. "Then let's drink up," I said, giving him a wink. We finished our beers and I settled my tab with Phil, then bade him goodbye. We went to our cars and Glen followed me home practically riding my bumper the whole way, arriving there shortly after eleven. He immediately wanted to see my garage. I led him there and turned on the light. He studied the hodgepodge collection of plates and discs that adorned the bar I'd left perched on my weight bench. "How much?" he asked. "315 including the bar," I replied. "Damn! That's more than fifty pounds over my single best!" he exclaimed, "How many?" "One set of seven and two sets of five," I told him. "Can I see you do one? Just one...please?" he asked with nearly child-like fervor. "Alright," I said with a smile as I began unbuttoning my shirt, "but just one...it's late." I peeled my shirt back off my shoulders and handed it to him. His eyes grew wide as he took in his first sight of my bare torso. Getting myself in position beneath the bar I placed my hands on it in a medium wide grip and, with a loud grunt, quickly lifted it off the rests above me. Very slowly I lowered it while taking in a deep breath until the bar pressed against my swelled chest. Then, just as slowly, I raised it back to full extension, my cheeks billowing out as I exhaled with a growl, and cradled it in the rests once more. I sat up and saw him grinning ear-to-ear. "Unbelievable!" he blurted out, "I want to try one!" "Knock yourself out," I said as I stood up and positioned myself at the head of the bench to spot for him. He pitched my shirt to me, which I draped over my shoulder, and then proceeded to peel his off and pitch it to me as well. I was impressed with his combination of bulk and definition. A sexy dusting of sandy fuzz fanned out across two very meaty pecs perched above his smooth belly and I couldn't help giving him the wolf's whistle. He laughed and bounced his pecs for me before quickly slipping under the bar. I smiled at his cheeky display. He positioned his hands in the same grip I had used and set his jaw as he tried to hoist it out of the rests. It refused to budge. Again he tried accompanied by a deep growl, but once more the bar mocked him. He laughed as he looked up at me with the same mix of embarrassment and admiration I'd seen him display after testing my grip at Old Eighty Eights. "Third time's the charm," he said sounding sure of himself. He let fly with a roar that I was sure the neighbors could hear as he fought like hell to get the bar aloft. I began to erect as I watched his handsome pecs quivering under the strain. His feet finally came up off the floor as his effort peaked. "WHOA!" I cautioned him, "Don't ever let your feet leave the floor when you're working with free weights. They're unforgiving as hell and the worst can absolutely happen." "Sorry," he said as he quickly planted his feet back down on the concrete floor with his exhausted arms dangling from his wide, round shoulders in admission of defeat. "I-I-I think you lost this round, Boo-Boo," I said in my best Yogi Bear. He broke into a hardy laugh as he sat up. "I didn't really expect to be able to get out a rep with it, but I thought I'd be able to at least get it out of the rests. After seeing you do one I just had to know how heavy it felt," he said. I walked around to the foot of the bench and offered him my hand, pulling him to his feet. He firmly roamed my torso with both hands. "God...you're huge!" he exclaimed. I wrapped him in my arms and forced my tongue into his mouth. He quickly melted into me. "Hold these," I said, handing him our shirts after freeing him from my kiss, "There's one more lift I want to show you." He took them from me and, before he had a chance to process what happened next, I hoisted him up over my shoulder, his laughter ringing out like a school boy's. I carefully maneuvered him through the door and the narrow utility room into the kitchen. "Where are you taking me?" he asked through his laughter. "To get naked," I flatly replied as I carried him on into my bedroom. Once there I set him down and stepped back, both our hard-ons raging unapologetically in our trousers. "Now...get naked!" I mock ordered him. "I will if you will!" he excitedly responded. He flung the shirts onto the chair by my dresser and we both quickly undid our pants. I caught a glimpse of his balls as he turned his back to me and shucked his off over his feet one leg at a time. They were impressive. When he turned to face me he was sporting something between six and seven inches of thick hard dick beneath his modest but handsomely rounded belly. My pants and underwear were bunched around my ankles still as he studied my otherwise nude form. "Fuck!" he exclaimed as he reached out and wrapped a hand around my hard cock, "Everything about you is bigger than me!" "You can still back out at this point if you want," I said. "Not a chance!" he quickly shot back. "Then give me your shoulder," I said, steadying myself on him as I freed my feet from the garments that ensnared them. "Kiss me again!" he enthused as he stepped forward and pressed his belly to mine until our cock heads touched. I placed one hand on the back of his head and stuffed his open mouth on my tongue as I slipped my other arm around his back. No real maneuvering was necessary since we were identical in height. I held him in my kiss until I was no longer aware of the lingering taste of beer on our tongues. "Wow!" he exclaimed as I released him, "I've never been kissed by a man before tonight. It gets me so hard!" "Never? Could've fooled me," I said as I dove in for seconds. He threw his arms around my neck as I squeezed his body to mine and drilled his mouth on my tongue once more. I felt his tongue start battling mine for position and backed it out to let him probe my mouth a while. The feel of his densely muscled body against mine as he freely explored my orifice was intoxicating. He released me and looked confidently into my eyes to read my reaction. "You're a quick study," I said with a smile as I reached down and squeezed our dicks together, gently stroking them, "but maybe it's time you leveled with me completely. You say no man has kissed you before tonight. Has one ever fucked your ass?" "No, sir," he said displaying deference to my slight age advantage, "still got its cherry...but I know without a doubt that I want you to take it." "Had another man's dick in your mouth before?" I asked. "No, sir," he said, replacing my hand with his around our hard-ons, "but I promise to suck yours till you come." "And swallow what I give you?" I asked. A brief pause ensued before he nodded his head and said, "Yes, sir." I smiled as I sank my fingers into his thick pecs and ran my thumbs over his erect nipples, "You're about to find out that's a lot easier said than done, pal...and I'm going to hold you to it." "Yes, sir," he said. "But I promise it gets easier after the first time," I assured him. "I trust you," he replied. "Good," I said as I released him and fetched an old, well-worn store bought quilt to throw on the bed. "What's that for?" he asked. "To catch the cum spills," I said spreading it out. Unlike Luther's mine was only a full-sized bed but, as we stretched out on it next to each other, we found that it afforded us adequate room. I rolled onto my side facing him, partially pinning him with my belly as my leaky hard-on flopped onto his thigh. I ran a calloused hand over his fleshy pectoral mounds and began playing with his handsome nipples again. "One more bit of truth telling before we get this underway," I said. "Yes, sir," came his reply. "What have you done with another man?" I asked. "I don't think he counts as a man now that I'm here with you," he confessed, "There was a boy at school this year who liked to suck me off and get his ass fucked when I'd come home from the gym...I get these huge hard-ons after a workout." I laughed as I slid my hand down his belly and tenderly stroked his beautiful cock, "We all do. It's one of the great pleasures of lifting to me. Fifteen minutes after I'm done it's like all the blood I've pumped into my muscles rushes out and heads straight for my prick." He joined in my laughter as he laid his hand on my dick and began smearing my pre-cum around on my cock head with his thumb, "That's good to know...I thought maybe it was just me!" "No-o-o-o!" I assured him, "And the heavier you lift the worse it gets...or...well...the better it gets, I guess...depending on whether or not you like having a rock hard dick to play with in the shower." "I love it!" he exclaimed as he leaned up and pecked my lips with a dry kiss, "May I suck you?" "Such a well-mannered young man!" I said with a laugh as I let go of his cock and rolled far enough back on my elbow and hip to free him from my belly. With my legs spread to invite him in I pressed my pad down to show him my full length, "I reckon it's about time you found out what a mouthful of dick is like. Be careful not to make me come, though. I want that to go in your ass." He scrambled up onto his knees beside me and slowly stroked my meat from the base to the head. "Just look at that thing!" he gushed as he depressed his own modest pad and touched the slightly smaller head of his cock to mine, "How big is it? Ever measured it?" "Well, yes and no," I teased, bringing a confused expression to his face, "I have a fuck buddy and we measured each other just for grins one night, so I guess technically the answer is no...but, yes, in that I trusted his measurements." "So what did he get?" he pressed me. "Seven and a half inches long by five and three-quarters around," I said. "Look how much bigger it is than mine," he boyishly marveled, "Would you measure me?" "This isn't a competition, Glen. I guarantee that you've got more than I'll be able to fit in my mouth. I call that big," I said running my hand up his length. "Please?" he asked. "Alright...if you insist. I think I've got a tape measure around here somewhere. Be right back," I said and went to rummage the catch-all drawer in my kitchen. I returned with it and rejoined him on the bed. He anxiously aimed his dick at me. "Let go of it," I instructed him. He quickly obeyed and let me stretch the tape as far back into his pad as I could get it. "Right at six and three-quarters long," I reported, allowing him to confirm it, "Now let me find the thickest part of your shaft." He expectantly watched me locate it and then stretch the tape around it. "Well?" he asked. "Just over five and a quarter," I said, once again giving him a chance to verify my finding. "Wonder where that puts me?" he asked trying to give meaning to the numbers. "Now that I can't tell you. I'm no statistician. What I can tell you is that it's big enough that I get hard looking at you," I said giving his hair a ruffle. "Really?" he said looking proud. Positioning myself as before with my full length exposed, I waggled my raging hard dick at him and asked, "Does this answer your question?" "Sure does!" he beamed as he got on all fours at my lap and slid his lips over my cock head. He gently nursed on it and sighed with satisfaction. "Show me how much you can fit in your mouth," I encouraged him, "Bob your head up and down and take a little more each time. When it feels like you might gag, stop." He set about following my instruction, but with no suction. "Be sure to suck on it...just remember...not too hard," I told him. I felt his suction start tightening up and told him when it felt just right. He resumed bobbing again and came to a stop just as I heard his throat sound out the first hint of gagging on me. "Okay, hold right there and let your saliva coat it," I coached him. He moaned some more as he took to the feel of my cock filling his mouth. Instinctively he took my balls in one hand and began tugging on them. "Oh-h-h-h...very good...play with my balls," I said. He responded to my encouragement by replacing my hand with his free one at the base of my dick. I quickly sank my fingers in his hair, gently massaging his scalp as he sucked me and telling him what a good job he was doing. Soon he resumed the bobbing motion yet again, eliciting a deep growl from me. He got a little excited by my display of approval and began working my tool with increased vigor. In my stimulated condition I felt my balls start to draw up almost immediately. "Stop! Stop!" I cautioned him, "Any more and you'll make me come." He came up off my dick looking very proud of himself. "Well? How did you like sucking a man's cock?" I asked. "I sure loved sucking yours. It felt good to make you feel good," he said sounding confident. "That's exactly how it should feel...and for that exact reason. Like I said, you're a quick study," I bragged on him. "You going to fuck me now?" he asked. "Yes, I am," I said as I got off the bed, "Lie on your stomach in the middle of the bed." He followed my order as I fished my new tube of K-Y out of the nightstand. I sat beside him and gazed down at his prize winning glutes, so round, firm and muscular. Laying the K-Y down on the bed beside me I dug into them with both hands. He sighed and flexed them. It felt like running my hands over two big, smooth, round river stones. My hard-on flexed a few times between my legs as I imagined the pink, virgin pucker they hid from view. From there I ran my hands up onto his broad, strong back and massaged his lats. Another contented sigh floated out of him. I then slid my hands up onto his mounded traps and firmly kneaded them. "Your hands are rough," he observed, "but they sure know what to do." "Yours will get that way, too, if you start doing battle with a knurled sleeve instead of those soft, plastic handlebar grips," I told him, "You know, Glen, you're a big, strong looking guy as you are...you need to think very carefully about following in my footsteps. There are drawbacks to being my size." "I will," he said, "but I'm pretty sure." He giggled as I gently pried his crack open with one hand and squeezed a big glob of K-Y onto his exposed pucker with the other. Its beauty exceeded my imagination and he looked so cute as he shivered from the coolness of the gel. "What is that?" he asked. "It's a lubricant...to keep you comfortable. I want you to enjoy having me in you," I said. "Oh...I always just used spit when I fucked that boy," he reported. "That's the way my fuck buddy and I do it, too," I said, "We like it that way, but it doesn't last very long and it can get pretty painful." I began massaging it into him starting with my middle finger. Then, to stretch him a little more, I switched to my thumb. He was responding exactly as I had hoped, completely unashamed to enjoy what I was doing to him. Next I switched to my combined index and middle fingers to stretch him just a little more. He tensed up a bit at first but soon relaxed and gave me free rein to prepare him for what was going into it next. "Put your legs together," I instructed him, "It makes more room for my dick to move in you." Again he complied and I straddled his butt with the head of my hard-on lying in the glistening furrow of his crack. I squeezed a healthy glob of K-Y onto my cock head and smeared it around. Next I ran a large bead down the middle of my shaft and thoroughly coated it as well. I pushed my cock head down between his slick glutes and placed my other hand on the bed just below his left armpit. Bracing myself on it, I raised my hips until my dick was perpendicular between us with the head firmly buried in his crack. With my free hand I swiped my glans up and down the length of his cleft to stimulate him and finally placed it on his pucker. He shivered. "Feels good," he sighed. "Bear down on your hole to let me in," I advised and then gently pressed for entry. I felt his well-prepared sphincter helplessly yield to my hardness. "Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h!!!" he groaned as I penetrated him. "You okay?" I checked in. "Yes," he said, and then after a short pause, "It just feels even bigger than it looked." "That's the thing I have no control over," I instructed him, "There's no way to keep it from hurting until I get you formed to it. But how much is going to depend entirely on you. Try to help it in." "I'll do...OH-H-H!...my...OH-H-H!...best...OH-H-H-H-H-H!!!!!!!" he bravely promised. I pressed a palm to his wide back and massaged him as I finished pushing about half way into him. He flinched under me and continued singing out from the stabbing pain. "We're almost there," I informed him, "Hang in with me. You feel great!" "Yes, sir," he whimpered. I slowly eased on down until my balls came to rest on the backs of his thighs, bringing another sustained groan from him. "It's in," I told him as I ran my hand over his back to relax him. I let my belly rest in the small of his back and gently pumped into him a few times. His hole tightened up on me and each gentle thrust pushed another short, pained grunt out of him. "You're a very tight fit," I cautioned him, "so remember to bear down...give in to me. The more you resist the more it hurts." "Yes, sir," he said. When I felt his hole relax I started gently pumping it again. It clamped down on me a couple of times before he got the hang of it, but suddenly my cock began to enjoy a freedom of movement that sent chills up my spine. "Good man!" I praised him. He groaned again, but it was the sound of satisfaction rather than pain I heard in it. I gradually lengthened my stroke until I was utilizing the entire portion of my shaft that I could reach up into him with. "Big...so...big," he panted as I slowly began working up a rhythm. "Stay with me, now," I coached him, "I'll have you formed to me in a minute and when that happens you won't believe how good it feels. Just keep bearing down." "I will...I will," he whimpered again. I pressed on for a rhythm that would reward me without unduly punishing him. At last I heard him growl and he soon started lifting his butt to greet my down strokes. He was obviously beginning to hunger for the sensory reward of what I fed through his wonderfully tight ring. "Oh-h-h-h, Y-E-A-H!" he cried out. His butt was mine at last and I carefully maintained the rhythm I'd settled into to keep him singing. I could feel my balls tightening up and knew it wouldn't be long before I creamed him. He felt so incredibly good on my cock that I thought momentarily about fucking through it and letting his insanely tight chute stimulate me to a second load. But the clock on my nightstand showed it was already well past midnight, and I decided against giving him more than he was prepared to receive with it being his first time. So I continued working him on me and staving off my impending orgasm as long as I could before finally crashing my substantial weight down onto his meaty ass to flood it with my sperm. I growled as I ground my loins against him, my cock flexing like crazy in the velvety warmth of his aching bowels. I reached up and grabbed hold of his meaty traps, pulling him back against me as hard as I dared. A lusty moan escaped him as he ground his ass to my loins for the last three or four spurts of my deposit. Once my orgasm had completely subsided I rolled off him by his side and ran my hand over his motionless back, praising him for the job he'd done as the remnants of my load dripped onto the quilt. He turned his cherubic face to me with his head still resting on his folded arms and smiled with a glow of contentment that made me swell with pride. "You're amazing!" he cooed as he reached out and ran a hand over my chest and belly. "You, too," I confirmed while gently massaging his butt cheeks. He then rolled onto his side facing me and revealed the ultra-hard condition of his cock. "Looks like somebody enjoyed himself," I teased as I wrapped my hand around it and gave it a firm tug. He blushed and then spied the puddles of cum he'd spent during our fuck when I let go of it. "I didn't realize you were making me come while you fucked me," he marveled as he scooped some onto his fingers and tasted it. To his surprise I scooped up a bit of his and mixed it with what was still leaking from me and tasted it as well. "Mmmmmm...more!" I said as I pushed him over onto his back and hunkered down over his straining erection, taking as much as I could into my mouth. He watched with glee as I pressed down into his pad to give him a good view of his full length and began pounding my gullet on his cock head. I made a deliberate show for him of the portion of him I was unable to accommodate in my mouth. It was less than two minutes before he took my head in both of his hands and succumbed to a loud, soul-stirring orgasm. The look on his face was priceless as I showed him my tongue swimming in his sizeable load and then proudly gulped it down. I greedily licked my lips and then exclaimed, "Ah-h-h-h-h-h! Good stuff!" "You look like you really enjoy that," he said, unable to disguise his pride. "I do," I assured him as I raised up and patted my belly, "I love taking the essence of a man down here where I know it'll stay put for a while." "Never had a blow job like that! You're just amazing!" he beamed once again. "So are you. Do me a favor and stay put. I'll be right back." I said as I went to my bathroom and got two wash rags. I walked back into my bedroom still cleaning his ass juice off my half hard cock with one and pitched the other to him as I said, "Go to the bathroom and empty my load into the toilet. You can jam that between your cheeks to keep from leaking on the way." He rolled off the bed and saw what had already leaked from his ass while I blew him. "Wow!" he said as he dutifully stuffed his crack with the rag and awkwardly waddled off to my lone bathroom. When he returned I had the cum-catcher quilt folded up on the floor and the bed turned down. "Should I be going?" he asked. "Only if you want to," I replied, "Otherwise the bed's shown it can hold us both so you're welcome to stay. We'll both be hard and reloaded in the morning. Then we can eat a big breakfast and go see how much free weight you can handle." He lit up and said, "Thanks! That sounds great!" "Glen, you probably won't be able to push as much as you might think. Two hundred fifty pounds of free weight is a totally different game than the same amount on a machine. Promise me you won't get discouraged," I cautioned him. "I promise," he replied, "and I promise to be a good student." "Alright, then hop in," I said pointing at the bed. He immediately obeyed as I walked around to the other side and stretched out next to him. He rolled onto his side facing me and began running his hand over my substantial paunch, "I love this thing...I want one! Mind if I ask how much you weigh?" "278," I replied without hesitating, "You?" "241," he countered as he continued caressing it, "I figure you've got to be the strongest slab of man I've ever met! How big do you plan to get?" "Well," I began and then thought carefully about how to explain myself to him, "size isn't really my primary goal. I'm perfectly comfortable being this big...and I'm certainly not afraid of getting even bigger...but my real motivation is strength. My size is just a natural by-product of that. Every day my one goal is to lift more than I did the day before...whether I manage to or not. I guess I'll get as big as I have to get to be as strong as I can possibly be, given that I have to work full time, too." "I get you," he said, seeming to assess his own goals as he processed my reply, "You know, getting fucked by a man like you is the biggest thrill I've ever had. It was so different than I imagined it would be." "How so?" I asked, tucking him under my arm and stroking his back. He rested his head on my chest and alternately fondled my belly and my cock and balls, then eventually said, "You're just such a brute of a man, but you were...so...considerate...gentle with me. I didn't expect that." He then ran his hand up over my chest to my right trap and began sinking his fingers into it as he said, "And I didn't expect to feel this...good about myself...for letting you fuck me. I wish I could fuck that boy one more time. I'd make it so different for him now." "You were rough on him?" I asked. "He loves muscle...and I didn't really try to make it rough, I guess...but for sure I only thought about my own pleasure...never a thought for his...maybe like his willingness to eat my loads and take my dick up his ass made him inferior to me or something. I lied to him...told him I liked girls and that I was just doing him because they didn't like getting buttfucked. I let him leave for home believing that," he confided. "Look...I'm sure he got what he wanted if he came back for more," I said as I hugged him to me, "but I agree that's no way to treat another person. I believe that a real man has no need to make another man feel like less of one in order for him to feel like more of one." "Lesson learned," he said as he began sucking and chewing on my left nipple, then raised his head, "Can I do a bit more truth telling?" "Sure," I replied. "Tonight wasn't my first time at Eighty Eights," he began, "I've been there twice before...looking for you." "Have we met?" I asked after a pause, feeling a little bewildered. "No, sir," he said in a respectful tone. "Then why would you be looking for me?" I asked. "That boy I've been telling you about," he said and halted, "you've fucked him, too...you and your friend...he called you his bulls." "Yes...as a matter of fact he did," I said, not quite sure how to feel, "Go on." "When he described you to me...how big and round and strong you were...lifting him out of the water and pressing him over your head so many times...he got me so hard...I just had to see you...even meet you, if I could," he confided, "I knew who you were the minute I set eyes on you...his description was perfect. I've thought my whole life that I was alone in my love of size...strength...and...men who possess it." "And now?" I asked as I hugged him against me. "Now I know better," he said as he ran his hand back down onto my chest to play with my nipple, "I guess Damian's story got me a little jealous. You sounded like everything I've always wanted to be...and...exactly what I've always secretly wished I could be with...but talked myself into believing I could never have...and yet he found it." After a lengthy pause to process his confession I planted a kiss on the top of his head and said, "Then I'm glad you found me." "You're not mad?" he asked. "No," I confirmed, "In fact, I understand. You see, I felt alone in the exact same way up until just a few months ago...when I met the friend you spoke of...my fuck buddy. So it turns out we're both fairly new to this experience. Is there anything else you want to tell me?" "No, sir," he said as he sank into me. "Then let's get some rest," I said, "I'm going to work you on those weights tomorrow till every cubic inch of you begs for mercy." "I'm ready...I think," he replied with a nervous laugh. I turned out the lamp and then pulled the sheet up over us, tucking him snugly under my arm. I knew the security he felt as he pressed himself to me, remembering how I felt the first time Luther held me that way, and was glad that I could provide him with it. "I feel so small next to you," he sighed as he draped an arm across my belly, "Thank you for tonight." "You're welcome," I replied, "It was pretty special for me, too." We continued lying together like that in silence until we drifted off to sleep.