Eleven-and-a-half: A Fantasy Of Great Length by Ray Wilder Chapter 11: 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 ======================================== When he realized he was being watched through the peep hole of the door next to him he decided to put on a little show. He put the boxes he was carrying in the living room and then did a quick set of fifty push-ups. He didn't want to make it look like he was posing, he just wanted everything to pump up right. As he walked out the door, back to the elevator, he could definitely hear her voice coming from right on the other side of the door. He flared his back and pumped his calves as he walked. He knew the effect this would have on his ass and he exaggerated the movement slightly. Of the several things he could carry next, he chose the two seabags. This would give him a chance to show full front and he could pretend the bags were extremely heavy, flexing his biceps and delts. But the best trick was yet to come. As he reached down to lift the two seabags he adjusted his cock a bit so that it was just barely hanging on to the fabric of his cut-offs. At the right moment he would flex his cock and shake his right leg. The cock would do the rest. He waited until he was about halfway down the walkway. Flex. Shake. Out dropped his rope-like cock. He leaned down to look at it with a "Gee, how did that happen" look on his face. He shrugged as though it weren't something worth bothering with at the moment and continued towards his, and his neighbor's, door. A few steps later he "realized" that the damn thing was just too much in the way and set the seabags down. He grabbed his cock and stuffed it back up in his shorts as though he were picking up some coins that had fallen through a hole in his pocket. He almost smiled smugly, thinking about what kind of a rise he was getting out of the person on the other side of the door. Hefting the seabags back up and making sure that he flexed his muscles to full effect, he carried them into his bedroom. He thought he'd tease the person a bit and waited a couple of minutes before making the next trip. He returned to the elevator and grabbed a couple of boxes filled with books. As he approached the door to his neighbors apartment a familiar sound caught his ear. Ca-chick, ca-chick, ca-chick. A camera shutter. He had been modeling enough to recognize an SLR when he heard one. Someone was taking photos of him through the peep hole. This was getting interesting. Yup, that was the sound of a camera shutter, all right. Okay, folks, it's show time. He set the boxes down in the living room and adjusted his cock for escape mode again. This time, as he walked out the door, he looked out into the distance and pretended that something had caught his eye. He paused. Ca-chick. He leaned against the railing. Ca-chick. He took a very deep breath, knowing this would expand his chest to a formidable circumference. Ca-chick, ca-chick, ca-chick. And then he flexed his cock, shook his leg and out it came. Ca-chick, ca-chick. He casually looked down at it, shook his head as though showing despair at the behavior of a small child, turned and took it in his left hand so the view of the camera wasn't obstructed. Ca-chick, ca-chick, ca-chick, ca-chick, ca-chick, ca-chick. He studied it as though trying to figure out what could be causing this errant hunk of flesh to behave so. Maybe if he pet it, it would behave. He did so. Then, gently, as if putting a sleeping child back to rights in his bed without waking him, he placed his cock back up in his cut-offs, tucked it in and then pet it again. There. That's better. As he walked back to the elevator for another armload he almost broke out laughing. He had to hesitate for a moment before turning around to make sure he had everything under control. He would ask for copies later. He heard the shutter go off a few more times, but it was hard to look sexy with two-hundred-fifty pound boxes of books in his arms. Or maybe that was the appeal. When he had finished with that elevator load he grabbed a drink of water and headed down stairs for the last of his labors. He was just pulling another box out of the back of the truck when he noticed Patty coming towards him from the back of the building. She had showered, carried a gym bag and had a glow on that could only have come from a rip-roaring orgasm. He suspected he had been the subject of her fantasy. The look she gave him certainly seemed to support that thought. He asked her about this gym she worked at. He thought he had visited them all when he was here earlier, but the name and description didn't sound familiar. She promised him a tour of the place and then said she was off to her sister's that night. Dinner plans were confirmed for the following evening and there was a brief discussion about the tastes and convictions of contest judges. They both had fallen victim to the same problem: Their bodies were too different to fit the mold of a contest winner. It was possible that kind of narrow-mindedness wouldn't exist at the upper echelons of the contest world, but how could you find out if you couldn't get out of the starting gate? Patty started to leave, but noticed that some jerk, this jerk, had left his car parked in front of hers. It figured his spot was next to hers, seeing as his apartment was. He would either have to remove the towing mechanism or have someone hold it up while the car was moved. He didn't relish the thought of standing in front of a running vehicle trying to support it while Patty drove the car, and he needed the tow bar on to take it to the truck rental place so that he could get home. He opted for the physical labor. After releasing the parking brake and confirming the shift was in neutral he grabbed the tow bar and pulled the car forward. Patty offered to help but he just wanted her to stand back and watch. He knew what effect this effort was having on his muscles. It wasn't often that you got a chance to really flex them for a reason. He leaned back and thrust his crotch forward so his cock and balls stuck way out. Patty apparently couldn't stand it. She dropped her gym bag and jogged over to "help". He saw it coming. She put one hand on the tow bar to pull and the other went straight to the enormous bulge in the front of his cut-offs. She squeezed, sending a tremendous wave of pleasure bolting through his body. Arnold, however, had good reason to suspect her actions were not going unnoticed by the local paparazzi. Not that he cared about it himself, obviously, but he wasn't sure how differently Patty would act, had she known they were possibly being viewed. "I suppose you think that's helping getting the job done. What will the neighbors think?" He hoped she would realize that he wasn't taking offense at her actions. She looked momentarily puzzled. Then she caught his drift. "You think we're being observed?" "I have my suspicions. It doesn't bother me. I just thought you should know in case you had any qualms about it." "Listen, Shape, if it weren't against the law I'd make you fuck me right here on the hood of this car, hoping every wonderful moment was being broadcast on CNN. No, honey. If it doesn't bother you it doesn't bother me." All this was said as her hand continued to knead the huge mound of flesh that threatened to burst through the fly of his shorts. "I've got to get to work, and this isn't helping one bit. I'll see you tomorrow night, darlin'. You keep that sweet thing humming and I'll take care of you real good." "Don't worry, Patty. I don't think it'll fall off between now and then." Patty gave his cock one last pat and headed off for her car. As she drove past him out of the parking lot he saw her grab her own breast and give it a squeeze. It was going to be a long time between now and tomorrow. He headed back to the truck and noticed that she had left her gym bag sitting on the ground. He smiled at the thought of having distracted her enough that she would have driven off without it. He picked it up and contemplated going after her with it, but he wasn't sure where this Pump House was so he set it in the truck, thinking she'd realize what had happened and return for it. He looked at what remained in the back of the truck and was pleased that he had made such great progress in just a couple of hours. He was getting hungry, but figured he only had two or three elevator loads to go. The hardest part would be the large, flat cardboard box tied to the wall of the truck. Everything else went up in two trips with lots of short shuttle runs from truck to hallway and elevator to apartment. Finally all that was left was the large box. He had stopped at the store and made this purchase just after picking up the truck yesterday. His housewarming present to himself. It was six inches thick, about the size of a three-quarter inch sheet of plywood and about twice as heavy. As he picked it up he looked down to enjoy the sight of his pecs as they swelled. He had done this many times today. He had done this many times for many days. Everyone, including himself, loved to run their hands over the surface of these twin mounds of flesh, feeling their firmness, sensing the power they contained. He held the heavy box against his chest and enjoyed the feeling of his pecs as they crushed against the cardboard. Each step caused the rough surface of the box to rub against his nipples, stimulating them to erection. All in all, the day had gone very smoothly. He had successfully moved into a new apartment right on the beach, received what was probably the best blow-job of his life, lined up what promised to be a truly wild session of sex with the indomitable Patty, gotten off on a little exhibitionism up on the sixth floor walkway with (hopefully) eight by ten glossies to prove it, his pecs were hard and firm, his nipples were hard and firm, his dick could, at a moment's notice become hard and firm. What a day. And it was only half past noon. He figured if all that happened for the rest of the day was that he got the mess up on the sixth floor into some sort of order he'd could go to sleep a most contented, if somewhat exhausted, fellow. The box didn't fit in the elevator. No matter how hard he tried, turning it this way and that, backing out and turning it over, it wouldn't go in. "That's okay," he muttered to himself. "It's only six floors." There was a point, somewhere between the forth and fifth floor, when he really started to feel the effects of that morning's work-out. He set the box down on the landing, laid it against the wall and looked down at his body. Everything seemed to be as big and powerful as ever. Some of it, like his thighs, pecs and biceps, seemed to be slightly larger than when he had started. But he was running out of energy. He had to get some food pretty soon or the ol' bod was going to run out of gas. With one final Herculean effort, he moved the box to the next floor, out onto the walkway and down to his apartment. He was absolutely covered with sweat; his cut-offs were soaked through. He had that same satisfied buzz he got at the end of a good work-out session, added to the sense of satisfaction at having gotten the job done. He decided to take a quick shower before heading out to get something to eat. It took ten minutes to dig around and find his shaving kit, another five to find a towel and two seconds to realize that the last occupants of the apartment had taken the shower curtain with them. He found the top sheet that had been on his mattress that morning and threw it over the curtain rod. It was minimally effective in preventing the bathroom from flooding, so he showered quickly. As he came out of the bathroom, he was drawn to the wall of windows at the far end of the living room that faced the (semi-ugly) railing and out to the beach and ocean. He walked over, slid the glass door aside and stepped out onto the balcony. A fresh breeze caressed his naked body, sending a slight chill up his spine. His nipples reacted by tightening. His huge cock reacted by recoiling slightly. His balls beat a hasty retreat to the safety of his abdomen. One of the things he liked about this place was the absence of vantage points, such as sewing room windows, from which people could peek into his room. He loved being looked at, but he generally liked to choose his own time and conditions. He enjoyed the thought that he could stand here on his balcony, totally naked, and be completely unobserved.