Date: Tue, 15 Oct 2013 07:06:34 -0700 (PDT)
From: Gustav Rennick <gustavrennick@yahoo.com>
Subject: Bodybuilding Fun

Bodybuilding Fun

On this Monday, I had done a three-hour workout at my training gym followed
by a workout out in my home gym just to keep the pump when I decided to
practice my posing. I am a natural bodybuilder which means no steroids, no
drugs, just natural muscle growth through exercise. I have been competing
for five years and have placed in the top five in regionals five years in a
row Ð twice as runner up. I had another competition coming up on the
weekend so I was focussed on getting down to my competing weight with a
body fat measurement of 5% or less.

I am fortunate to be a licensed massage therapist who is very well fixed
because of being beneficiary of my mother's life insurance. I am able to
work when I want and as much as I want and could afford a home gym. I just
have resistance machines at home, no free weights as I didn't want to put
my son at risk.

Anyway, I was posing away in front of the mirrors I had installed in the
lower level of my home, wearing just a jockstrap rather than $60.00 posing
trunks. I was concentrating on getting my poses absolutely correct in order
to emphasize my physique for the judges when I become aware my
nine-year-old son was home and standing at the door to the gym.

I didn't become aware because of my son but rather because of the `ohs',
`ahs' and `wows' of the other audience members.  My son and three of his
classmates were ogling me from the door.

"Hi, Dad," he greeted me when our eyes met.

"Hi, Josh," I crossed the space between us and gave him a hug, "Who are
your friends?" I smiled at his companions.

"These are my classmates, my buddies, and we came to get your help with a
homework assignment. This is Terry, Noah and Justin."

After shaking hands with each of the boys, I returned to my posing routine,
"Excuse me, guys, I need to finish this. É What homework assignment?"

"Well, today in Health class each group got assigned to do a different part
of the human body and our group gets to do `external mus-cu-la-ture'," he
pronounced each syllable purposefully, and smiled proudly when he
succeeded. "And that is how you can help. I told the guys you know
everything about mus-cu-la-ture and muscles and can help us with names and
stuff. Will ya, Dad, will ya, please?'

"Certainly, Josh, you know how much I value your education. How can I
help?"

"Well, Mr Stevenson, while you do what you're doing can we point to
different muscles and ask you the names? That would be a start." Terry
pleaded eagerly.

"Sure, if that will help."

"Oh, it will because knowing the names is a start, and then we need to know
what the muscles do and stuff like that." Justin added.

I smiled at their enthusiasm, "Come on then. Let's get started." Once they
gathered, I began my routine again, killing two birds with one stone Ð
more practice for me, helping with their homework for them. As I presented
each muscle group for the imaginary judges the boys would point and ask for
identification. I would name the muscle group and/or individual muscles and
they would write them down, with my help with spelling.

I had worked through arms and upper chest before Josh changed the `game'.
He reached out and touched my obliques. When I did not object, all the boys
began touching my muscles.

Now, as like the majority of bodybuilders, I love having my muscular
development admired from afar. This tactile approach was a little more
stimulating and gratifying. Having those little hands caressing my body,
`ah'ing' and commenting positively constantly really revved up my
performance.

I was well into my third run through of my routine when young Noah stumped
me with a question, "There's one muscle you haven't shown us, yet. How
come?"

I couldn't think to what he referred, unless it was an internal,
non-voluntary muscle like the heart or diaphragm. "I'm not sure I knowÉ"

Terry supported his friend, "Yeah, how come?' I started to explain there
were internal muscles I couldn't show them when Terry clarified, "My
brother calls it his `love muscle' and says it needs lots of exercise." And
with that he grabbed hold of my jock strap and yanked it to my ankles in
one fluid motion before I could think or respond.

"Hey, boys, stopÉ" I was very embarrassed my son and his friends could
see my chubbed up cock, which had responded to their attention to my body.

Josh and Noah took hold of my semi-hard cock and began manipulating
it. Josh said, "Gee, it's really big, Dad. Real big."

I was flattered, but still shocked. My son and his friend were touching my
cock and were playing with it. "No, guys, not really. Now, stop. Stop right
now." Two more sets of hands joined in adding my balls to the mix.

"Wow, he is real big and he's getting bigger. My brother was right. The
more exercise the bigger it gets."

"No, Terry, that's not how it works, exactly. It isn't actually a muscle
despite what some people call it."

"What's it called, Dad, and why is it getting bigger?" Josh asked.

I swatted ineffectively at the eight little hands roaming freely over my
genitals, "Guys, I said you could touch my muscles not anything else. Stop,
now."

"But, Dad, this is fun. And if it isn't a muscle what is a dink?"

"It is called a penis. And little boys shouldn't play with grown men's
penises. Now stop it all of you. Now!"

"How come it grew like that, Dad? If it isn't a muscle."

I took a deep sigh and decided to take an educational approach. I figured I
would explain and that would make them stop, "Inside penises are chambers,
tubes if you like, of a sponge-like material called corpus spongiosum which
when penises are stimulated, like you guys are doing right now, fill with
blood and cause the penis to harden, and its called an erection. So even
though it feels like a bone or a muscle is inside it is actually just the
pressure of the blood within the penis." My explanation did not stop my
torment, but increased it as the little hands continued to explore
searching for the chambers.

"This is cool. It feels hard and soft at the same time."

"Guys, you really need to stop otherwiseÉ Oh, fuck. Oh, Jesus, I'm going
to cum."

"What does that meanÉ"

The question was unfinished as I blew my heavy load of cum all over Josh
who was standing right in front of me. The white jets hit his nose, his
mouth, his chin, and his shirt-covered chest.

"Eeww, did you just pee on me, Dad? Gross!"

"No, son, it isn't pee. It is commonly called `cum'. It is made up of sperm
andÉ"

"Yeah, we learned about that in class. Does that mean Josh is going to have
a baby?"

"Dad!?!" wailed my son.

"Guys, calm down. Josh, you are not going to have a baby. Boys cannot have
babies. Ever. Cum is what comes out of a penis when is it stimulated. When
it shoots into a woman, she might have a baby. When it shoots into the air
like that, through masturbation, well, it just, I don't know how to explain
that."

While I stumbled on my words, Terry dragged his finger through the goo on
Josh's chin. He sniffed it. Then he tasted it. "Hey, guys, it's kinda
cool. TastesÉ I don't know but it tastesÉ Try it."

All three did. All four seemed to enjoy it as they returned to the pools on
Josh. Josh drew a finger through and then shoved it in my mouth.

I swallowed cum for the very first time, and it was mine, on the finger of
my son. Intriguing.

Small hands returning to my cock distracted me. Noah and Josh declared,
"Let's get him to do that again." My semi-hard cock was pulled, prodded and
manipulated. Despite just shooting my cock hardened, encouraging continued
exploration by the boys.

I protested that it couldn't happen again for a while but my body betrayed
me, made a liar of me. It actually didn't take long for me to shoot a
second load, to the delight of my audience.

My knees buckled and my legs failed me. I fell to the floor with a
thud. The boys took advantage of my new situation and I found myself in the
embarrassing position of having my legs spread apart giving even greater
access to my cock and balls. Hands roamed even more freely over my
genitals. Noses got closer to smell. Josh stuck out his tongue to taste the
little bead of cum which remained on the head of my cock.

The sensitivity of my cock caused me to buck and roar in pain/pleasure as
Josh flicked his tongue, "Arrgh! Don'tÉ Christ, Josh, stop that! Jesus,
Mary and Joseph! No, boys! NO!"

This latter response was caused as the other boys, laughing at my
discomfort, rubbed their hands over the head of my cock. My body bounced
and rolled. Justin planted himself on my chest in an effort to stop me. He
was too lightweight so Noah joined him.

Justin reached for my nipples and apparently decided a new sensation was
needed. He grabbed hold and pulled and twisted for all his puny might. That
puny might was enough. A jolt of sexual energy ran through my body and my
cock was instantly hard.

No one had ever played with my nipples while I was sexually aroused until
that moment, and no one had ever inflicted a pain/pleasure response like
that through them before.

Justin laughed and did it again, harder, "Hey, guys, look what happens when
I do this!"

"Ahhh, fucking hell, Justin, stop! Jeez Murphy, kid, stop. Please stop,
guys!"

They, of course, didn't and were rewarded with a third eruption from my
cock. I couldn't believe my nine-year-old son and his friends were
mercilessly milking me. And that I was helpless to stop it. Three cums in a
very short time weakened me and left me putty in their hands. And their
hands did not stop playing with me. And my cock. And my nipples. And my
balls.

The combined stimulation hardened my cock for a fourth time in thirty
minutes. I couldn't stand it and that's when I said what I said, dooming
me, "Stop, oh, Christ, stop, boys. I'll do anything if you stop! Please, I
can't take it!"

Suddenly, Josh looked around his friends perched on my chest, and said,
"You'll do anything, Dad? Anything at all?"

I was in such agony I missed the malevolent tone in my son's voice, "Yes,
Josh, yes. Anything. Just stop, please."

A moment of silence as the boys looked at each other. Then the hammer fell.


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