Date: Sat, 21 Mar 2015 10:27:56 -0700
From: sean@seanreidscott.com
Subject: The Ox of S-bux (Chapter Two)

The Ox of S-bux
Part 2
by Sean Reid Scott


Jarrett followed me to my stylish condo. When I opened the front door and
escorted him inside, I was struck by how much bigger he seemed now. Just
thick with muscles!

I turned around once I got to my living room, and I just couldn't believe
the physique that was following me. He was also a lot more handsome than I
had seen at the coffee house. It just wasn't fair that a man could be so
blessed. Sure, he had taken the genetic gift he had been given, and had
honed, shaped and worked it to the extreme—but it just wasn't fair.

"Nice place," Jarrett smiled, looking up at my vaulted ceiling and out my
big windows.

"Thanks," I said. "Can I offer you something to drink?"

"Um... what are you having?"

"I'm feeling like some cabernet."

He smiled. "That actually sounds pretty good."

When I returned with the wine glasses, he was staring out my living room
windows, facing my right. His profile was dizzying. Those pecs stuck out
in front of him, pointing at the windows. I could see his nipples through
his shirt; they were pointing at the floor. His shoulder and right arm
were no less mind-boggling. I really did think his upper arm could compare
to many men's legs. And at his waist, he tapered to what I knew had to be
less that 30 inches. I mean, come on! The guy was everything I ever wanted
to experience.

"It's some of the 2014," I smiled as I handed him his glass. "A very good
year."

He laughed.

I nodded toward the kitchen. On the counter you could see the
wine-in-a-box. "I only buy the best boxes of wine."

He laughed louder, then took a sip. He looked back at me and said,
"Actually it's not that bad."

I nodded. "I'm of the opinion that it's the company that makes the wine.
And right now, this wine is the best I've ever had."

"Hmmm..." he squinted as he smiled. "Mine too."

I said, "I imagine you have quite the healthy appetite, what with all
those muscles and everything." My eyes travelled over his physique as I
talked.

"Been known to eat my share," he said. "I have a high metabolism."

"Shit, I'd think so. But now that we're here, I'm not sure I have enough
food for you," I said. "Maybe we should consider a run to the store."

"Tell you what," he said. "After we finish these wines, I'll take you out
for dinner. My treat."

"Really?"

• • • • •

About an hour-and-a-half later, we were returning to my place, after a
delicious surf-n-turf meal. He actually ordered two full meals.

I was getting us some more drinks from the kitchen—this time a little more
potent—when he asked me from the living room, "You feel like watching any
TV? I feel like I need to let this food settle."

I came around the corner to the living room, carrying two martinis, to see
Jarrett sitting on my couch—right in the middle of it. His gigantic arms
were spread across the back of the couch, and his monstrous legs were
wide. My TV was on the opposite wall; he faced it directly. I could have
sat in one of the chairs at either end of the couch, but that'd mean I'd
have to turn my neck to see the screen. Didn't want to do that.

So, I handed Jarrett his drink, and sat down next to him. I was tentative.

After he took a drink, he sat it on my coffee table. "Go ahead and relax,"
he said.
"You can lean back."

Obviously, that meant that one of his tree branches would be at my neck,
but he's the one who suggested it! So I reclined against the back of the
couch, and his warm arm. Immediately his hand cupped my shoulder.

My cock was thickening into its favorite state.

He rubbed his fingers over my shoulder. It didn't compare to his own wide
delts, but it wasn't anything to sneeze at either. The drink—and the ones
I had already had—relaxed me.

After a minute like this, Jarrett said, "I've seen this one before."

I chuckled. Where were my manners? "Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I could turn it
on."

"Or not," he said. He gripped my shoulder a bit more firmly. He leaned
into me, and forward slightly. Our faces met, and his eyes twinkled as he
gave me a gentle, yet wonderful kiss. God, he smelled good. I don't know
the scent; I'll call it "Whisper of Muscle." He held the kiss for—like—ten
seconds or so. So, yeah, it was a really good kiss. He actually teased me
with his tongue, but pulled back before he committed to actual insertion.
"Thanks for inviting me up," he said. "This is much better than the
Welcome Wagon."

I smiled. "You're welcome. I consider it my community service."

We kissed again, and this time he slipped his palm onto the crotch of my
pants, where he found a very hard rod of humanity. I moaned while we
kissed; he inserted now, and his tongue warmed my mouth. He squeezed his
fingers around my cock.

My hand moved to where his was on me, and surprise-surprise, I found the
exact same thing he had found on me—if not proportionately larger.

A few minutes later, we were both lying on my couch. I was on the bottom
and Jarrett's full muscle body was on top of me. We were kissing, and
feeling each other through our shirts. I definitely got the better end of
that deal. My hands explored his wide back, his broad shoulders and his
enormous arms. It was like there were muscles on top of his muscles!

And I was obviously giving him pleasure.

I had envisioned that he'd give me a bit of a posing show before we went
further, but a few minutes later he was following me into my bedroom,
taking off his clothes as he went, mimicking my strip. Under the covers,
my trembling hands were treated to the full-on muscle experience. Jarrett
was gentle, but god, his body was so hard. I felt all of it. He seemed to
like that. I know I did! After an acceptable amount of foreplay, Jarrett
coaxed me onto my stomach. Doggie style? I thought.

This was going to be interesting.

He was methodical. His fingers spread my hole apart, and prepared me as
best they could. When it was time for his long, thick, cock, I was more
than ready to receive him. As he inserted his hard, uncompromising organ,
he let himself move lower, resting those gargantuan pecs on my back. He
nestled his face into my neck. His breathing was heavy. His cock was a
glorious addition to my evening. He pushed, then pushed again. His strong
arms tightened around mine. He groaned, and I winced with his to-the-hilt
shove. He held it there—for a long time—not moving anything. When he
pulled it out, about halfway, he thrust in back in quickly.

This guy had been nice and gentle, but now he began to assert his power
over me with ardent incursions—inside hard, then outward slowly. And
again. And again. Pretty soon his powerful body settled into a good,
strong rhythm. My ass was getting used to the in-and-out assault.

I'm not that much of a talker when it comes to sex, but for some reason,
being overpowered by this Ultra-Alpha brought out a few words. I found
myself muttering, with his rhythmic thrusts, things like, "God, yeah. Push
harder. Do me, man."

To which, Jarrett responded with a few statements of his own: "Fuck your ass.
Crush your body. Feel my power."

While he was approaching Mt. Climax, I started spewing cum onto my sheet.
"I'm coming, man. I'm coming, Jarrett. Fuck me harder!"

He loved it. Within the minute he was feeding my ass with his essence. I
could feel the warmth as it squirt out of his cock and coated my walls.

"God, what a fuck," he said a few minutes later; he was still inside me,
laying on top of my grateful body.

"Yeah," I said. A few minutes later, we still hadn't moved. I said, "Can
you spend the night Jarrett?"

I felt his breath on my neck as he said, "Thought you'd never ask."

— The End —
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