Eleven-and-a-half: A Fantasy Of Great Length by Ray Wilder

Chapter 14: Flashback

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

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	Arnold found Mr. Ridell in his office in the company of a
staggeringly beautiful woman. She actually was not much older than Arnold,
only twenty or twenty-one at the most, but at his age those two or three
years made a great deal of difference. She was dressed in a tight fitting
blouse and skirt which hugged the contours of her torso, leaving little to
imagine regarding the dimensions of the body beneath. Her hair was the
color of straw; long and silken. It was gathered behind her head by a band
and then cascaded down her back and shoulders. Her face was diamond shaped,
with broad cheekbones and a strong chin. Her nose had that line which many
an ancient Greek sculptor had captured and set as the standard for plastic
surgeons for centuries to come. All these things, and other more subtle
effects, such as the long, beaded earrings which hung seductively at her
neck, served as a pleasant introduction to the rest of her body. Arnold
could tell right away the woman was involved with body building. The way
her neck sloped out to finely developed trapezius muscles, gracefully
flowing down to her nicely defined deltoids was a sure sign that this woman
had more than a casual interest in the sport. He stood in the doorway and
tried very hard to remember what he had come down here for.
	She, on the other hand, guessed in a moment what the boys
predicament was; at least the one he had so recently been concerned about
dealing with. She and Mr. Ridell had been discussing Arnold's plight, a
subject which everyone in the school who had an ear for it knew
about. Mr. Ridell had figured something like this would happen. He just
didn't think it would be so severe.
	He was surprised to see Arnold so soon; there were still fifteen
minutes of class time remaining. He introduced him to the young lady, whose
name was Samantha, Sam for short, and then inquired as to the reason for
his early arrival. Arnold didn't feel comfortable talking about it in front
of the young lady but Mr. Ridell, thinking it had something to do with the
raging hard-on which Arnold was not even bothering to disguise, informed
him that Sam could be trusted completely in any matter Arnold wished to
discuss with him.
	Arnold then related to them a quick rundown of the day's events,
trying very hard to find a way of referring to the condition of his cock
without being too offensive. As he reached the point in his story where he
had excused himself from his eighth hour class and taken refuge in the
second floor bathroom Sam's eyes started to widen along with the distance
between her legs.
	Arnold tried to convey his sense of urgency regarding the condition
of his cock but Mr. Ridell seemed distressingly unconcerned. He informed
Mr. Ridell that going so long without cumming had been a bad
idea. Mr. Ridell winked confidentially at Sam and told Arnold to go get
dressed for his work-out. Arnold was puzzled by Mr. Ridell's cavalier
attitude regarding his difficulties, but complied.
	He went to the locker room and opened his locker to get out his gym
clothes but instead of his regular gym shorts with the name of the high
school printed on one leg he found a pair of deep red posing trunks like
the ones he had seen the men in the muscle magazines wearing. His jock
strap and old T-shirt were missing as well. There were, in their place, a
device that looked like a jock strap but which had a much smaller cup to it
and a T-shirt with a very different kind of cut. He could only figure that
Mr. Ridell had somehow slipped these items in and he was meant to wear
them. He took off his shirt and undershirt and put on the new one. It clung
to his body and, although it was skin tight and gave the appearance of
being too small, was wonderfully flexible and expandable. He especially
liked the way the sleeves hugged the tops of his shoulders, accenting his
deltoids. The large mirror at the end of the row of lockers revealed a
physique which, while he knew it was his, seemed as foreign and impressive
as his swollen, sex-starved cock.
	Which brought up a problem: How was he going to get his enormous
erection into the trunks and jockstrap-like device provided him? He put on
the thong (it called itself that on a little tag on the inside, 100%
cotton, made in Thailand), and pulled it up around his thighs. He tried
bending his cock down but it was too hard. It only made it hurt more. Then
he noticed the strap that went around the waist seemed to have an
expandable pocket built in. He laid his cock into it and it fit
perfectly. He then realized that the cup was only for his balls. He slipped
on the posing trunks and found they were constructed along the same lines,
though the pocket was not as pronounced. He wondered if everyone in
Thailand was as hung as he was.
	After donning his white socks and gym shoes he checked himself over
in the mirror. Something was wrong. The shoes and socks looked completely
out of place. Then he remembered that all the men he had seen in
Mr. Ridell's magazines had been barefoot. He removed the shoes and socks
and re-examined himself in the mirror. The effect was devastating. He tried
several poses like the ones he had seen "the other Arnold" do and several
that Mr. Ridell had worked with him on. The shirt flowed and stretched with
his every move, caressing his body and allowing every detail of his
musculature to be seen. As he turned sideways to check out what it looked
like from behind the thick tube of his cock stood out, pointing the way to
his well-defined ass. The new shorts rode high up his cheeks, leaving the
view of his gluts almost completely uninhibited. As he flexed his biceps
the arms of the shirt stretched to accommodate the increased girth of his
arm and accented the break between bicep and deltoid, a look that could
only be described as raw sex. The front of the shirt plastered itself to
his abdomen and the developing striations of muscle clearly showed
through. His pecs were cradled by the material which formed itself around
the entire belly of the muscle, pointing out, in sharper relief than if he
had been unclothed, that wonderful break where flat stomach and mountainous
pectoral joined like The Rockies and the great plains at Denver. To say
this new outfit made Arnold feel good would be an understatement. The only
thing that worried him was how was he going to walk out into the gym
looking like this with Sam there.
	Arnold was still a virgin. He had had a couple of blow jobs and
lots of older women had come on to him and he knew an awful lot about sex
from talking to Mr. Ridell and some of his classmates, but the bottom line
was that the boy had never actually had his cock inside a woman's
vagina. He was about to turn eighteen years old, and while that may have
been long past the age of awakening for some of his friends, he had
maintained a certain distance from members of the opposite sex. All his
experiences with two people having sex involved his parents. And his
parents didn't make love, they used sex to control each other and
himself. So when, on numerous occasions, the opportunity had presented
itself, Arnold had found his instinct had been to stay clear.
	Mr. Ridell was aware of this fact and had treated Arnold's
virginity with respect and dignity. He knew the moment would have to be
right to initiate the boy into the pleasures of joining with another person
and he wanted to help Arnold enjoy and grow with the experience.
	Several years before Arnold began attending classes at the high
school there had been a young girl whose family life was as messed-up as
Arnold's. Worse, actually. She had been raped by an uncle at the ripe old
age of twelve and in her sophomore year in high school, had been forced to
have oral sex with her older brother while her drunken father looked
on. Her mother, upon learning of the father's involvement with this episode
had gone out, purchased a small hand gun, come home and shot the father in
the head whilst he lay in a drunken stupor on the living room couch. She
tried to shoot the son as well but the son wrestled the gun away from her,
shooting himself in the crotch in the process. The mother, sensing the
justice in this, left the boy to bleed, got in the car, drove off for parts
unknown and was never heard from again.
	The brother recovered, except for the fact that he now pissed
through a surgically implanted plastic tube that never, never gets hard,
even in the coldest weather. The girl graduated from high school with a A-
average and was now attending a prominent university in the
midwest. Actually at that very moment she was sitting in Mr. Ridell's
office awaiting the return of the beautiful young man she had just seen go
off to the locker room.
	Mr. Ridell had taken her under his wing during her years at high
school, guiding her through the same course of physical awakening and
self-growth he was presently exposing Arnold to. In return he had only
asked for the pleasure of enjoying her developing physique in its unclothed
state in a shower that had been thoughtfully provided with a soap
dispenser. She had given this boon unconditionally, as she had given him
her trust. The two of them maintained contact and when he learned she would
be returning at the end of the semester for the summer, he had asked if she
would be interested in meeting a most unusual young man. Trusting him
completely, she agreed and he arranged for her to come to visit the school
on Arnold's last day of class.
	Mr. Ridell knew the two of them would hit it off immediately. He
had no doubt that Sam was the best person he could think of to initiate
Arnold. Sam knew this was why she had been asked here. She had been a
little apprehensive, but trusted that Mr. Ridell would know the right thing
to do. When she first saw Arnold walk into the room, confused and somewhat
agitated, she knew her faith in Mr. Ridell had not been misplaced. This
hunk. This stud. This beautiful boy with a body developed far beyond its
eighteen years and a cock that was nothing short of awe-inspiring, made her
cunt juices start to flow. Mr. Ridell sensed her interest immediately. His
instincts had been right.
	He and Sam talked for a few more minutes after Arnold went to the
locker room. Sam then said she was going to the girls room to change into
her work-out clothes. She picked up her gym bag and trotted out the
door. Mr. Ridell watched after her, recalling her sumptuous, well shaped
body covered with soapy lather after an intense exercise session. In the
intervening years her figure had filled out as she maintained her interest
in body building. Under that tight fitting outfit was a body able to make
his young friend, Arnold, cum in his new posing trunks. He wondered how the
boy was faring; whether he had figured out how to get his big cock into
that thong he had supplied. If he went into the locker room right now he
was certain he would see the boy posing in front of the big mirror at the
end of his row of lockers.
	Several minutes after Sam departed Arnold returned from the locker
room wearing his new outfit. He had indeed been able to figure out where to
put everything. Mr. Ridell's own cock leapt in his pants at the sight
before him. The boy had a sheepish grin on his face as he tried to
nonchalantly cover up the massive cock which wrapped around his right
hip. He told Mr. Ridell "Thanks very much for the great present," to which
Mr. Ridell answered that seeing him in it was all the thanks he
needed. Arnold inquired as to the whereabouts of Sam. He was told that Sam,
who was obviously into body building herself, was in the other locker room
getting changed. She would be taking Arnold through his routine this
afternoon, offering her own advice as to what he should do to improve his
physique and exercise habits.
	At that moment Sam appeared at the door to the office dressed in
her own version of the outfit Arnold had on. Mr. Ridell recognized it as
the set he had given her when she graduated from high school. He remembered
sitting in the girl's locker room as he always did, watching her as she
undressed, then opening her locker to find this outfit. The first time she
had it on it fit like a glove. Several years had passed and many tons of
iron had been lifted. The effect of the outfit now was staggering. Her body
had been toned and shaped, sculpted and tanned until every muscle and bone
fit together in a unified picture that inspired thoughts of unbridled
sex. Sam understood what was to happen here and knew that she had a debt to
repay Mr. Ridell. She was most willing to participate. This wonderful man
had saved her life. If it hadn't been for him she would surely have
resorted to drugs, alcohol or suicide.
	She turned to Arnold who was immobile. Thunderstruck. The sound of
a deep moan began to fill the room. A great, deep rumbling that seemed to
start down in the depths of his groin, traveled up through his massive
chest and flooded out of his throat. His right hand involuntarily reached
for his huge cock, already aching from being hard for the last twelve
hours. Sam knew what was going to happened and didn't want to be left
out. She pushed Arnold back into the chair she had been sitting in. He was
totally under her control. She knew the effect this outfit on this body
would have on the boy, and Mr. Ridell had warned her that he would probably
be pretty horny. She reached down into the side of his posing trunks and
expertly extracted his massive tool. As she touched it he convulsed and
moaned; she feared he might pass out. Her hands wrapped around the
magnificent shaft and she pulled it to her. Cum-juice was already leaking
out of the slit and she gently lapped it up with her tongue. This drove the
boy completely over the edge and his hips thrust up off the chair. Sam
parted her lips and slipped the head and as many inches of the shaft as she
could manage into her mouth. He grabbed the top of her head with both hands
and begged her not to stop. The taste of his juice thrilled her and she
began sucking the huge organ. She knew she wouldn't have to wait long, this
young boy was so horny the only thing she was afraid of was drowning in the
torrent of cum she knew was about to come rocketing up that shaft, blasting
itself against the back of her throat. She hoped she could swallow fast
enough.
	A quick glance over at Mr. Ridell assured her that all was going as
he had planned. If he was able to orchestrate this event as well as he had
her return from the edge of insanity, then this afternoon's activities held
the promise of an event the proportions of which were represented by the
enormous cock she held between her hands.
	She started to stroke the long shaft. His response was in the form
of a vibration that began somewhere at the base of his spine and ended up
consuming his entire being. Within moments his hips were bucking, ramming
the head of his cock against the back of Sam's throat. The moan became more
persistent, louder, savage. Suddenly he stopped. He reached down and
gripped the arms of the chair as his back arched up into the air almost
dislodging Sam from her perch atop his glistening tool. He froze for a
moment and then a loud scream, coming from his powerful chest, rang out
through the room. Sam's mouth was suddenly filled with a cock that seemed
to have doubled in diameter. It was all she could do just to hang on. Then
the flood gates opened and load after load of cum shot up the shaft. She
could actually feel it travel past her clasping hands. He came and came and
came and came and she thought for a moment that she wouldn't be able to
swallow fast enough and still he came. The shout diminished into a loud
grunt that accompanied each spurt. Then he slowly lowered his hips to the
chair, pausing occasionally to shoot another load of cum up the shaft into
Sam's waiting, eager mouth. Sam continued to suck on the giant cock,
milking each precious drop. She ran one of her hands down the shaft and
began to gently massage his bloated balls. This brought one or two more
hurtles of semen to the top of his organ and then the mighty erection
began, thankfully and finally, to subside.
	Sam continued to hold his cock until it reached a state where it
could be easily placed in the side of the thong. This she did with loving
care, making sure that it was straight. If she was going to do a work-out
session with this stud she didn't want to be distracted while he constantly
had to readjust his massive schlong. She looked over at Mr. Ridell. He was
very happy. He hadn't actually planned on the afternoon starting out this
way. He had hoped to save the more intimate aspects of the day for the
end. This was going to put a completely different cast on their
relationship as work-out partners.
	Arnold was not completely sure of what had just happened. He knew
his cock felt much better, his balls hurt, he was sitting instead of
standing, having no idea when that state had changed, and there was this
incredible woman kneeling between his legs looking like the cat that had
just eaten the canary. On a scale of one to ten he thought of a number with
a whole lot of zeros behind it. Slowly he returned to reality and it
finally occurred to him that he had just shot an amazing amount of cum into
this woman's mouth.
	"Thank. . . thank you, Sam. Thanks."
	Tears started to well up in her eyes. The dear, sweet boy.
	Arnold thought that something was desperately wrong and was on the
verge of tears himself. Sam noticed his distress and reached up with both
hands, placed them on his cheek and pulled his face to her. The feeling of
her hands on his face was startlingly pleasant. He allowed his face to be
drawn forward. When their faces were finally a few inches away Sam raised
up on her knees and kissed him gently on the forehead. She pulled back,
still cradling his face in her hands and smiled a smile that sent a wave of
warmth coursing through his body.
	"You feel like a little exercise, wimp?"
	"What do you mean?"
	She pulled him up out of the chair with both hands and dragged him
out of the office into the gym.
	"Come on, Stud. No pain, no gain, as they say."
	Arnold willingly followed. Of course, he would have willingly
followed even if she had been dragging him into a vat of boiling oil. For
the next two-and-a-half hours Sam put him through the most grueling,
tortuous, demanding, excruciating, wonderful work-out he had ever had. She
worked with him on technique, showing him how to get the most out of each
exercise, how to make that one last rep really count. She would do a
particular set and then Arnold would do it, attempting to incorporate what
he learned from her. Sometimes he was successful, sometimes not. But there
was never a sense of one being better than the other. They both moved
through the experience with a joy that surpassed anything either of them
had ever participated in.
	Several times during the course of the afternoon they took short
breaks, heading over to the drinking fountain or just laying back on one of
the floor mats. During one of those moments Sam turned to look at the young
man (he was no longer a boy in her eyes) lying next to her on the mat,
resting, his eyes closed, unaware of her studying gaze.
	He was beautiful, that was certain. His body, his face, his
cock. But as he lay there, all the stress and problems of the world outside
the gym far from his mind, she saw the beauty of the person within. It was
almost unbearable. She wanted desperately to reach over and pull him to
her, to rock him in her arms and let him know that, if he was able to take
what Mr. Ridell had given him and use it to build a life with, everything
would end up, on the average, a positive experience.
	The aching, the longing that she was feeling was made even more
poignant by the knowledge that she would never see this darling young man
again after today. She knew, as did Mr. Ridell, that if she remained in his
life, him bonded to her through the experience of today, he would never
have the desire to reach out to life and drink it all in. It would be very
easy for him to fall into a kind of lust/love with her and never grow
up. This would be a fatal mistake and would deprive the world of his
possibilities.
	All these things she had learned from the wonderful man sitting
over by the door to his office, himself watching their activities,
basketball firmly in place. She knew Arnold would grow to understand what
would happen today and end up, with the right guidance and a whole lot of
luck, as sure of his place in the world as she was.
	She raised herself up on one elbow and studied his muscular
frame. He was well on his way to developing a physique that women, and
probably men, would lust after. Her eyes traveled down to his mid-section
and then traced the outline of his cock as it curved away from her down his
right side.
	"Hey, Stud? You pass out on me?"
	"I'm still here. Just thinking about stuff."
	"You know what's going to happen after we get done working out,
don't you?"
	"Yeah."
	Arnold suspected that Mr. Ridell had probably set up this meeting
between himself and Sam for other than purely altruistic reasons. He had
been thinking about it and had come to the conclusion that this would be a
great way to pop his cherry and pay Mr. Ridell back at the same time.
	"So what do you think?"
	Arnold paused for a second to form the words just right.
	"I think I want to get this body really pumped up and give our
friend over there a show he'll never forget." He paused again. Then: "You
know I'm a virgin?"
	"I suspected as much from your reaction earlier." She looked at his
face, smooth, innocent. "You scared?"
	"A little, I think. I'm afraid I won't know what to do."
	"You just listen to your heart and pay attention to my reactions
and I have a feeling both of us will have an experience we'll never
forget."
	"I'm a little afraid that I'll hurt you."
	Again the sweetness of this man made her almost weep.
	"Like I said. Pay attention to my reactions and you'll do okay."
	He lay there for a few more seconds, processing that
information. His brow wrinkled in heavy thought for a moment and then it
relaxed. He had obviously come to some conclusion. What it meant to him, to
her. . . she'd find out in a little while. She punched him in the upper arm
and said, "Get your ass up, Stud. Time for chewing the fat, and other
things, later. We got some serious sweatin' to do."
	He jumped to his feet with amazing quickness and grabbed her under
her arms. Before she knew what was happening he had lifted her over his
head, transferred one hand to the middle of her back and was one-arm
pressing her into the air. Sam knew that if she struggled she could fall
and hurt them both so she just relaxed and enjoyed the feeling. She wished
she could see him doing this. She wanted to watch as his arm pumped up and
down, the tricep and deltoid swelling with each rep. He did this ten times
and then transferred her to his other arm, repeating the process.
	On his final rep he thrust her high in the air. She spun around
quickly, her arms tight at her sides, and landed in his outstretched
arms. He held her for a moment and then pulled her to him. Their lips met
in a kiss that was deep and penetrating. It lasted several minutes and then
he slowly set her down on her feet. She stared at him, dumbfounded, her
head and heart reeling.
	Finally she got her breath back and asked, "Where the hell did you
learn how to kiss like that?"
	"From you." Her eyebrows raised. "I just paid attention to your
reactions." He smiled at her with a boyish charm. "Race you up the ropes,
no legs."
	He turned and sprinted across the gym floor to the thick ropes that
hung from the ceiling of the gymnasium. She ran over and grabbed the other
one. He counted three and up they went. Sam knew it would be a close
one. He had much more strength than her, but she had the advantage of less
weight. She closed her eyes and started to pull herself up the rope,
hand-over-hand, her legs at right angles to her torso. Her biceps began to
burn about halfway up and she relished the feeling. She dared to open her
eyes to check on Arnold's progress. Looking over to the other rope, he was
nowhere to be seen. Had she left him completely in her dust? It seemed she
had him beat. She reached the top of her rope and opened her eyes. He was
hanging from the girder that the ropes were attached to, mere inches from
her face. He gave her lips another long, lingering kiss and
hand-over-handed back along the girder to his own rope. She was stunned.
	He grinned disarmingly at her and said, "The finish line is down
there. See you at the club house." And with that he dropped down out of
sight. She watched him until he reached the ground and was never certain
that his hands had really touched the rope.
	"You look like a treed cat up there. You need someone to come
rescue you?"
	She started down, her legs parallel to the floor, her abdominal
muscles standing out in full relief. She took several seconds for each
hand-over-hand, savoring the luscious feel of her biceps as they became
more and more pumped. When she reached the bottom of the rope she slowed
even more, the strain showing on her brow, the sweat pouring down her neck,
running between her breasts. She took a great deal of time straightening
out her legs, slowly lowering them to the ground, her abdominals shaking
with the effort. He stared at her, marveling in her muscular control. When
her feet finally touched the ground she released the rope. Her breathing
was deep.
	"If you fuck like you climb a rope, it's going to be a short
afternoon." She watched the expression on his face as he puzzled out what
she was really saying to him. She elaborated by saying, "The experience,
whether it's an exercise or roll in the hay, demands attention to
detail. Bench pressing four-hundred-fifty pounds ten times in thirty
seconds isn't going to do you nearly as much good as pressing one hundred
pounds ten times in two minutes. You don't get to enjoy the details and you
can't make sure you're doing everything as well as you could."
	She could see by the look in his eyes he understood. He turned
around, walked off for a second, assimilating the new information, and then
returned. He walked up to her, looked her straight in the eye and whispered
"I want you."
	She returned his intense gaze. "I want you."
	The tension between them grew until Mr. Ridell, sitting on the
other side of the gym, could feel it. He knew they were both hot as hell
and wondered what they were going to do about it. They turned towards him,
took each other's hand and walked over to him. Without a word they each
took one of his hands, pulled him up out of the chair, his basketball
rolling down his lap and bouncing off across the floor, and led him to the
boy's locker room.