The G - Part 1

This next 6-part series is one that I've wanted to do for WELL over a decade. I can't remember where I first found this story, and I have no idea who the original author is, but it is the most incredible tale of muscle worship I have ever read. I have significantly augmented and expanded the story, and added tons more details, which I hope you will all enjoy. 

As of this writing, I've completed my rewrite of the first three chapters and am well into the fourth. I usually don't start posting a series until I've completed ALL of it, but I'll make an exception in this case. Even as just stand alone stories, each chapter is rather spectacular, I must say. I HOPE to get the other chapters done within the next few weeks, but I'll post whatever I have finished, and if there's a lag before the final chapters appear, then so be it. 

Finally, I would like to acknowledge that this story involves possibly the longest penis I have written about to date. I have a friend and pen pal, Jack, who will particularly appreciate this story, since he's built damn near as big as Big Joe Fiedler in this story. So to Jack I say this -- get ready for a wild ride, as this story is for you! :D 

PS -- I used the name "Joe Fielder" in this story to commemorate one of the sexiest bodybuilding studs I ever saw in my life. When I was a teenager in the late 80s, ESPN had a program called American Muscle that featured footage from bodybuilding competitions and showcased up-and-coming bodybuilders. The program was always on at odd times, so I had to surreptitiously set my parents' VCR to tape it. Anyway, one episode showed some of the contestants from a state or regional level bodybuilding competition, and it included perhaps 15 seconds of a stud named Joe Fielder. I almost wore the tape (not to mention my penis) OUT ogling at that man!! He was outrageously handsome and enormously built, and while he wasn't as cut or as shredded as the other men on stage, as the female commentator said, "if there had been an award for raw potential, this man would have aced it." I have searched Google and YouTube over the years trying to find that lost 15 seconds of footage, or any other coverage of this big and handsome beast, and have never found it (and, of course, the VHS tape is looooong since gone). So to honor the man to whom I had shot so many teenage loads, I've named the alpha stud bull in this story after the elusive Joe Fiedler...   

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The G

Based on an original story by Braun1 (original story can be found on the Metabods website)

Part 1

The Meeting

One is never old enough to state one’s beliefs as absolute facts. But with 28 years behind me, I’m not green or wet behind the ears. In those 28 years, I’ve moved around a lot, I’ve lived and  worked in a lot of weird places, and I’ve seen all sorts of people, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it is to never think that you’ve seen it all. 

Anyway, here’s my point — I’m absolutely certain that there are people on this earth who are not entirely human. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say, they’re more than human. Call them mutants, call them freaks, call them what you like, I don’t care. But I tell you what, I know what to call mine. How do I know? Well, let me start at the beginning… 

I love muscular men. And I mean, the bigger and freakier, the better. I’ve been that way ever since I can remember. I used to spend hours looking at my comic books when I was a kid, staring at the heroically muscular super heroes, and the equally monstrous muscle bulls that would be shown in the bodybuilding advertisements on the inside covers. That fascination with muscles led to my own involvement in sports and athletics, and a lifelong obsession with building up my own body to emulate the beasts I’d see in the gym, in magazines, or at bodybuilding competitions. I’m all for aesthetics and proportions, and my own gifted physique naturally lends itself to those conventional concepts of masculine beauty. But for my own preference, I love the true mass monsters of the sport, men like Greg Kovaks, and Jean-Pierre Fux, and Alexandre Nataf, and Morgan Aste, men who sacrificed conventional aesthetics in the pursuit of impossible muscular SIZE. And after more than two decades of rigorous study, I’d say I’m a connoisseur of male flesh. I’ve learned how to spot good genetics, and am especially good at spotting freaky genetics. 

In high school, I started working out and playing sports, and I quickly learned that I happened to be one of those lucky guys who is blessed with some rather phenomenal genetics of my own, the kind of genetics that allowed me to easily pack on lots and lots of lean, top quality muscle mass. And now, after nearly 15 years of dedication, sweat, and hard work, I’ve managed to pack an extremely impressive 285 pounds on my large, 6-foot, 2-inch frame. Yup, I’m definitely one of the ‘big guys’ you’ll see at your local gym, the biggest man in any room I enter, a true bodybuilder in every sense of the term. I have very broad shoulders with huge delts; a thick, massive chest with perfectly squared pecs; wide, flaring lats that taper dramatically to a tightly muscled, 31-inch waist; corrugated abdominals like a steel washboard; a big, tight, meaty, muscular ass; tree-trunk thighs; and calves the size of footballs. But my real pride and joy are my arms; pumped, my guns stretch the tape to over 23 ½ inches, and they earn me a lot of stares wherever I go. I also have a very high metabolism, and therefore a naturally low body fat of less than 5%, so my muscles are always very cut and extremely well defined. 

In all modesty, I have to say that I’m very handsome as well. Okay, I’ll admit it — I’m drop dead gorgeous. I’m one of those guys with a face that is simultaneously boyishly pretty and intensely masculine at the same time, including a strong chin and powerful jawline, high cheekbones, broad forehead, a large but exquisitely-formed nose, expressive (and very kissable) lips, and stunning, bright blue eyes framed with thick, dark blonde eyelashes to match my thick, wavy, dark blonde hair that I always wear in a stylishly short haircut. With my stunning, all-American good looks and herculean physique, people always tell me that I look like one of those comic book super heroes I used to lust over when I was a kid. 

And full disclosure, my superb genetic blessings don’t end there, for I also possess an embarrassment of riches between my colossally muscular and thickly veined thighs. My cock is so huge that it earned me the nickname ‘Moose’ in college. Even when completely soft, my limp dick measures a full 9 inches in length and is extremely thick. But when hard, my mighty phallus is a true masterpiece of male flesh, stretching to just over 13 full, eye-popping inches and thicker than a beer can! Thick veins run all up and down the length of the columnar shaft, and a heavy foreskin hood covers my huge, bulbous cock head. Beneath that huge cock swing two nuts that are so enormous that they earned me my other college nickname, ‘Bull’. My two huge balls are truly bull-sized, larger than the largest of Georgia peaches and ten times as juicy. They are also tremendously heavy, hanging low in their silky, blonde-haired pouch, and are capable of producing truly remarkable amounts of cum. When gay guys in the locker room or at a bar get a look at the gear I’m packing in my crotch, I usually have to beat them off with a stick. In a manner of speaking, of course… 

By now, you’re probably thinking from the way I started out this story and the way that I just described myself that I’M one of those mutant freaks that I was talking about. As much as I’d like that to be the case, no, I’m merely human. A true thoroughbred stallion of a male, to be sure, an alpha male bull of the highest caliber, but human nonetheless. No, this is a tale of how I met one of the biggest mutant muscle freaks on this planet, and lived to tell the tale. 

I tend to move around a lot for my work, often ending up in small towns for several months at a time before having to pick up and move on to my next gig. I specialize in all sorts of business-related software, from security systems to accounting programs to payroll to customer websites, and I am usually hired by small- to mid-sized businesses who require on site assistance for many of their business needs. 

That’s how I wound up in this small, rather nondescript town in the middle of one of the flyover states. It was a quaint enough little town, surrounded by some very lovely forests, scenic rolling hills, and a scattering of idyllic farms and ranches, but it was a far cry of the big city life I’d grown up in. Still, I’d long since learned how to adapt to new surroundings, and so decided to make the best of my planned few months in this small town before moving on to the next one. 

One of the things I always do when I move to a new town is find the local gym. I’m a dedicated athlete and never let my itinerant lifestyle interfere with my pursuit of fitness, so no matter how small or rinky dink the operation, I always join the local ‘temple of fitness’ to keep up with my workout regime. As it turned out, the local gym in this town was also going to be one of my clients during my stay, so I got to know the facility rather well. The place was known simply as ‘The G’. It had once been an auto repair garage, and a large letter ‘G’ was the only portion of the original sign that remained on the front of the building. It was a surprisingly large and well-equipped gym on the interior, if a little lacking in decor, and it was far better than what I was accustomed to in the small towns I visited. I looked forward to hammering out some grueling workouts at The G. 

And lucky for me, the middle-aged manager of the gym took a liking to me right away, and threw in a free membership for me for the duration of my stay! 

I had been hired to go through ‘the works’ at The G, including installing an electronic security and surveillance system, upgrading their entire HVAC system, installing management software for HR, payroll, and accounting, and building a customer-friendly website. As was still common for small town businesses, the gym was far behind the times when it came to technology, and they were still keeping paper books and file cabinets with clients’ membership information! The team at The G clearly needed a lot of help from me, so I knew I was going to be spending a lot of time there. 

I tend to work odd hours, such as early in the morning or well after business hours, in order to minimize any disruption to the business I’m servicing. With The G, I therefore tended to do most of my work on the gym floor in the evening hours… which also happened to be when the serious meat heads would work out. And since I was always after the serious muscle freaks, that was a perfect time for me to survey the clientele and look for any likely candidates. 

Past experience has taught me that small-town gyms are a most prolific source of real life freaks. I have been surprised so many times at what youthful ambition, years of pumping iron, enormous amounts of food, and, in many cases, a pharmacopeia of chemicals and god knows what else, could do to a guy that was naturally huge and gifted to start with, in his attempts to become king of his particular hill. 

There were some rather big guys who worked out at The G, and a number of teens and young men who showed some serious promise and potential, but there was no sign of any of those mass monsters that I loved most of all. Heck, I was bigger and better built than any of the other guys at The G, so I was becoming rather disappointed at the lack of massive muscle man eye candy. 

But every gym has a gym legend, the man everyone talks about as the freakiest, and The G was no different. 

I heard rumors about ‘Big Joe Fiedler’ for several weeks before I caught my first sighting of the guy. This legend was apparently quite secretive, seldom to be seen, something of a hermit in fact. Joe’s family had apparently founded the town generations ago and owned pretty much the whole thing, so when his father died a few years prior, Joe had inherited everything. As if his background wasn’t mysterious enough, all the tales I heard about Joe’s size and strength sounded akin to fisherman’s tales to me, and then some, so I dismissed them all as lies or extreme exaggerations of the truth. 

But then one day I saw Joe for the first time, and I wondered if all of the stories might actually be true! 

I was working on installing new HVAC ducting that had been delivered earlier that day, so I was across the gym from the entrance when Big Joe first walked in. The man was dressed in the baggiest sweat pants and hoodie sweatshirt imaginable, but even such enormous clothes couldn’t help disguise the utterly colossal SIZE of the man. He looked to be about 6-feet, 6-inches tall with a massive frame, and every inch of that huge frame looked to be bloated to near bursting with freakish mass. The baggy sweats obscured any details from view, but even through the clothes I could tell one thing was for certain — this was by far the largest human being I had ever seen in my entire life! 

I was stopped dead in my tracks, and could only stare open mouthed as I drank in everything that I could about the huge man. I could see that he had jet black hair, worn short, and that a similarly dark stubble graced a ridiculously powerful jawline and prominent, squared chin. The man was devastatingly handsome in an overwhelmingly masculine sort of way, and when he smiled and affably greeted the gym manager, I thought I would melt then and there. This insanely handsome beast of a man could have been half blubber beneath those baggy clothes, and I still would have considered him the most beautiful male I had ever seen! 

Joe followed the much smaller man into his office, and I loitered around my work area with my eyes focused on that door, waiting for the huge man to reemerge. He did maybe 10 minutes later, gave the manager a friendly handshake (my god, the man’s enormous paw literally engulfed the manager’s smaller hand!), and then walked out the gym door. And I found myself relearning how to breathe again. 

I later learned that, as with many businesses in the town, Joe actually owned The G. The manager told me that Joe was a nice enough guy, and the best type of boss that you could ask for (particularly after his rather less well loved father, who had apparently ruled the town with an iron fist), but that he kept very much to himself and didn’t interact much with other folks. What little I learned about Joe only deepened the mystery surrounding him, and intensified my desire to see more of him, including whatever he was hiding beneath those ridiculously baggy clothes. 

I caught perhaps half a dozen glimpses of the man over the next month or so. He was always easy enough to spot — a very tall and VERY large black-haired figure with enormous shoulders that were well over a yard wide, barely able to pass through the gym’s large doorway without ducking and turning his shoulders sideways. He dwarfed everything and everyone around him, and even though he was only a few inches taller than me, Joe looked like he might be close to double my weight! His oversized clothes failed to disguise the record-setting MASS of the body hidden beneath the baggy fabric, and I definitely got the impression that Joe was indeed trying to hide his body away under all of those clothes. But no clothes, no matter how thick or how baggy could hide the fact that, wherever he was thick, he was VERY thick, and wherever he was wide, he was VERY wide. 

Joe was overwhelmingly handsome in a way that was difficult to describe. His face was rugged yet gentle, with an ageless quality that could have placed him anywhere from his mid 20s to his early 40s. We even made eye contact a couple of times — hell, I couldn’t help but stare at him every time I saw him, no matter how much I tried to hide my hungry glances — and he always gave me a friendly nod of his head and a small smile. And his eyes! They were a piercing, sparkling green that went perfectly with his fair skin, rugged stubble, and thick black hair. 

I was hooked from the very start, hopelessly enamored and obsessed with this handsome brute of a man, but unable to meet him or get to know him. Oh, what I wouldn’t have given to see that guy without at least some of his clothes, or preferably without any of them. This guy was far larger than anything I had ever seen or imagined. My brief glimpses of Joe fired my imagination no end, sending me to trips of fantasy involving tape measures and worshipful, exploring hands. God, you could feel a rumble in the floor when he walked past, he was so huge! 

I tended to be a voyeur by nature. Even as big and muscled and handsome as I am, I very rarely approached other guys, especially in these smaller towns where homosexuality was often more of a taboo. So I would usually content myself with just surreptitiously watching the big dudes and muscle freaks in the gym, soaking in their masculine power and beauty and watching them push to grow ever bigger, and then mercilessly beating my meat later as I recalled these brutish work outs. I was therefore immensely frustrated by the fact that I could never catch Joe working out in the gym. In fact, very few of the other gym patrons could claim that they had seen him work out there before, and those that had said that they hadn’t actually seen him lifting weights in years. It looked like I was fated to never see the unimaginably handsome giant of a man in action, let alone in any sort of skimpier attire. 

Then one fateful day, all of that changed. 

I had been working in the gym earlier that Saturday, installing a new burglar alarm window breaking detector. One of the big street windows had been replaced a week earlier after a few discontented youths put a brick through it, which was apparently a very rare occurrence in this otherwise relatively crime free town. Anyway, I returned to the gym late that night, several hours after closing, to adjust and test the system, as I didn’t want to disturb any of the gym patrons with potential alarms. 

The premises remained lit with a few fixtures even at night, so I didn’t need to turn on any additional lights to complete my hardware and software checks. After confirming that everything looked good on the gym floor, I went to the locker room in back. The alarm box was in one of the lockers, so I opened the locker door, got my tools unpacked, and set to work testing the system. It was only then that I saw that the back door to the locker room, the one that led outside and was appropriately marked ‘staff only’, was standing ajar. I could also hear the showers running nearby, and concluded that Mathilda, the cleaning woman, must be busy inside, though these were late hours even for her. I dismissed the sounds and the open door, and got back to my work. 

I spent the next ten minutes or so performing all of the required diagnostics on the alarm system, tinkering with it here and there, until I was satisfied that it was working perfectly. I closed the alarm box and the locker door, and was just putting away my tools when I heard the sounds of running water finally cease in the shower area. That was when I also noticed that one of the other locker doors was standing ajar, and it dawned on me that there might be an actual gym member in the showers, though what business one of the members would have in the gym at this late hour, I had no clue. 

Then a figure strode into the locker room from the shower area, and from just his massive size alone, I knew instantly who it was. 

Now remember I’m writing this with hindsight. I guess I was lucky that the adrenalin-pumping shock of realization hit me with its iceberg-blow-to-the-stomach-which-then-curls-up strength before he actually came out of the showers and I saw him, because if it didn’t, so help me, I don’t think I would have survived it. As it was, I barely managed to retain consciousness when I finally got to see him for the first time. And to do the situation justice, you’ll need to imagine that I was describing all of this at the same time with 100 voices, one for each of the 100 things I noticed at once, instead of a listing from head to toe, because this is how I perceived him when he came out of the shower. 

First of all there was his short-cropped raven black hair atop a face handsome to the point of actual physical pain. He looked to be of black Irish descent perhaps, maybe Italian or German as well, but regardless, this guy made me look positively ugly in comparison. 

He was also by far the widest man I ever saw in my life, and that included doctored pictures and morphed photos. This guy set completely new standards as to the shape a human body could attain. He was just monstrously big, and to say he was simply ‘over muscled’ would have been an incredible understatement. There was simply no words truly adequate to describe him. 

His pecs were not merely slabs of muscle, thick but flat; instead, they bulged upwards and outwards, practically overflowing his perfectly unblemished, pale skin, stretching it with their impossible half-ball shaped bulk, so that the thick nubs of his large nipples faced almost straight down. The gigantic pecs made the crevice between them look like a deep canyon, which could trap my palm sideways with plenty of room to spare, trapping it between over 8 or 9 inches of hyper bloated muscle. 

He almost literally had no neck - what would have been his neck flared out with two trapezius muscles the size of ham hocks, immense rounded muscle bellies that themselves tapered and flowed into boulder shoulders the size of medicine balls. 

His upper arms were so monstrously, impossibly big that they must have been thicker than my own waist, making my mighty 23.5-inch guns look puny in comparison! His bone structure was very thick, but his muscles were so freakishly enormous that his joints actually looked small. Descending from his mammoth, more-than-a-yard-wide shoulders, his upper arms bulged immensely, thick veins throbbing over his gargantuan biceps, which bulged out blatantly even when completely relaxed, and his equally enormous triceps being pushed out by oversized lats, ending in a pair of forearms so insanely corded with muscles that he could no doubt squeeze stones into dust in his huge, muscular hands with no trouble at all. There was not enough space between his arms and his lats, so his elbows were forced outward from his body, something even the biggest bodybuilders achieved only with a high pump plus a lot of strutting. But this guy did not have to pretend; even relaxed, his arms simply could not hang down at his sides like us mere mortals. 

His deeply corrugated abdomen did not look as if it were merely tiled; instead, the individual cobble stones of his belly muscles bulged immensely outwards in perfectly symmetrical  splendor, framed by the most cut and chiseled serratus muscles I think I had ever seen. There was certainly no blubber on THIS muscle god’s almighty form! Each muscle in his extraordinary midsection bulged and twitched in a spectacular symphony with his every breath and movement as he rubbed himself down with an oversized bath towel, which looked like little more than a kitchen dish rag against his utterly colossal body. His waist stayed incredibly narrow for the sheer goliath size of him; in fact, it looked to be barely more than the third of the width of his preposterously wide shoulders, creating a taper which most people would not dare imagine, and which in turn made his monumental chest look even bigger and his colossal shoulders even wider. 

Apart from a dusting of dark chest hair across the impossibly broad expanse of his spectacular upper clavicular shelf and in the center of his monstrous pecs, and a delicate and delicious-looking treasure trail down the length of his utterly chiseled abdomen, he looked to be practically hairless. But as he lifted up one monstrously muscular arm to dry underneath it, I saw an incredibly thick thatch of lush, dark hair in his deep and muscular arm pit. I very nearly swooned at the sight. 

His skin looked perfectly smooth and flawless, its natural paleness a stunning and erotic contrast to his really thick black hair and a strong day’s beard stubble on his powerful and chiseled jawline. He almost looked like someone had pumped him up with an air compressor until the poor thing dropped dead from exhaustion. 

As he turned around from the doorway and walked to his locker, I caught my first glimpse of his back. His lats were simply out of this world! With most big and built guys, myself included, the back tapered down from the shoulders to the waist in a classic V shape, but not with this monster! With him, the lats first bulged outwards, pushing apart his cord-plated triceps, and then tapered in a sort of rounded way to his powerful lower back, coming in almost horizontally, and then changed direction further, tapering down to his disproportionally small waist, creating a sweeping curve oozing with power as it went down to a tight, incredibly muscular and striated ass, striations in the huge square muscles forming with the slightest shift of his frame. Striations that ran into the twitching cables of his monumental thighs, and I had no doubt in my mind that his thighs were wider than most guys were around the chest, and re-emerged in the cut forms of his immense, bifurcated calves. 

No man had ever been so big! I was dead certain that this titanic muscle beast must have had more than a quarter ton on him, perhaps even double my own massive 285 pounds!! And that was a conservative estimate!! All of the truly huge muscle freaks take drugs, sure, but this guy’s were really something! 

He wasn't ripped in the sense that word was normally used. In fact, his skin looked smooth until it the muscle beneath it flexed with even the slightest movement, whereupon the skin got stretched to the limit, exposing individual heads and strands of muscle only by virtue of sheer size! When any single muscle flexed, striations upon striations appeared, and the skin took on a grainy texture that was hard to describe, almost like the skin itself almost entirely disappeared to reveal the coarse, rough texture of the colossal muscles beneath. 

I know I must have been gazing at him with the blatancy of a blowtorch, but I would not have averted my sight even if it meant falling dead on the spot. When he turned to face his locker, I had a side view of his physique, and I swear my heart almost stopped then and there. His herculean pecs were so big and high with the pump that they stood out almost horizontally from his chest wall. Hell, he looked ready to rip apart at the seams! A network of thick, bulging veins sprung out on his forearms and his shoulders, and the separate heads of his shoulder muscles actually stuck out. If he flexed, he’d surely rip his skin! 

There were fainter lines on his otherwise perfect skin. Stretch marks?!? My god, could he still be growing, at THIS size!?!?! He already looked as if he had all of the muscle in the world on him!! But the surprises were still far from over… 

I’ve seen some huge muscle before, and I could maybe even have been able to dare and conceive of something like him in my wildest fantasies, but my jaw literally dropped and I must have been drooling like a mesmerized fool with what I saw next. I would have fallen over if it were not for the locker behind me, providing much needed support. 

As if his monstrously muscular physique and excruciatingly handsome face were not enough, the gigantic he-man sported the biggest piece of man meat the world had ever seen, or indeed ever imagined! He rubbed himself down from head to toe with that white bath towel, and each move caused his mammoth pecs to shudder and flex, his corrugated abs to quiver and dance, and his overgrown fuck hose to swing ponderously between the biggest, bulkiest thigh muscles in creation. I could not move even as he turned to face me, still rubbing himself down. The mighty phallus hung straight down from his lightly hairy crotch, swinging between his massive thighs and shuddering with his every move. And believe me, measuring anything on this guy in mere inches was futile; only feet, and quite possibly yards, could do him justice. His cock was ridiculously thick, and so fucking long, and although the preposterous size of the rest of him confused the eye, I swear it was only slightly shorter than two feet in length, hanging down and reaching several inches below his knees! He slowly went over it, drawing the towel along its girthy underside from the thick base to the foreskin-encased head, and it hung limply over the towel. He pulled slightly at it, which made it stretch a bit as he dried it with the towel. Even without that show, there was no doubt it was completely flaccid. 

When he lifted it up, I finally got my first glimpse of his balls, and I was once more stunned. Again, to say that his balls were simply ‘huge’ would have been a vast understatement. Those mighty gonads were so monstrous as to be obscene, dwarfing even my extra large bull nuts. Each orb had to be the size of a full, ripe melon, and they were so heavy that they hung over three full inches from his crotch. The mammoth nutsac itself was completely smooth and devoid of hair, and covered in a light tracery of delicate veins that made those mighty man lumps look even more powerful and virile. I had no doubt in my mind that this freak of nature had testosterone levels exceeding that of a herd of sex-crazed bison, pumping out of those massive hormone factories in insane amounts. The freakish size of the stud’s humongous nuts also helped explain his gigantic body and the utterly enormous schlong hanging down from between his legs. I had no idea how this guy even walked with a pair of bulky cantaloupes dangling from his crotch, for surely if one of those titanic testes got caught between his voluminous thighs, it would be instantly crushed to a pulp! 

I had finally gotten my wish. I had finally gotten to see the mighty Joe Fiedler in all of his naked glory. And he was more than I could have ever imagined! 

I know I probably kept mumbling some expletive or other, and it probably came out completely unintelligible. When I finally looked up from his crotch, I discovered that Joe was looking directly at me with a gaze I could not describe, and with eyes of an almost diabolically electric green color. My own blue eyes must have flown wide with fear, for I knew that this hulking god of a man could close the distance between us in half a dozen long strides, and kill me in a heart beat. 

And then I heard his voice. 

“So, is it all you expected?” he asked. His voice was rich and incredibly deep, a basso profundo that I swear I could feel rumbling even inside of my own heavy balls. Those six words were a question, a motivation, an answer, and a hint at consequences all at once. He was looking straight at me, a look dissecting me down into the individual atoms that made up my worthless self. And then he was suddenly right in front of me, and he lifted my chin shut with just one of his big, meaty fingers. His touch startled me and allowed me to regain a precious modicum of control. His movement was hard to describe, like corded steel moving beneath the thinnest veneer of skin. Imagine perfect, skin-colored living steel. 

He put the towel over his massive shoulders and raised one dark and bushy eyebrow. Afterwards, I remembered what was a truly strange moment of realizing that words did not come out of my mouth because I was really scared to the bone-marrow. I tried to speak, but instead I simply nodded in a mixture of lustful stupor and terror. A sardonic grin split across his devastatingly handsome features, and he laughed, a sort of low, rasping rumble, shifting his hands onto his hips, and stood that way for a second. Then he slowly started stroking his goliath left pec with one hand, causing his huge meat to slowly swing back and forth between his legs. Each time it collided with one of his thighs, the massive schlong would smack faintly, shudder and bend, and then start ponderously swinging in the other direction.

I was being overwhelmed with having all my secret dreams displayed before me in the form of a mighty he-man, a giant muscle bull who was impossibly huge EVERYWHERE. To have this extraordinary sight before my eyes was the unbelievable culmination of all of my wildest dreams! I still did not know if he was going to kiss me or kill me, but I knew that either way, I could have died a happy man then and there! 

“Yeah, I can see that you like it,” he said in his low, rough voice, his eyes looking down at my crotch and then meeting my gaze once more. I realized that I was indeed sporting the boner of a lifetime, which was embarrassingly obvious even through my pants. “And I can see that you’re a very big boy yourself, my handsome blond bull,” he continued, his huge hand continuing to maddeningly stroke his massive pec, teasing me. I was almost painfully aware of his colossal cock, which looked like some sort of long and heavy club hanging down like that between his mammoth legs. 

“I bet you’re sorry you don’t have a tape measure on you right now, huh? So you could see how big I really am? No doubt with particular emphasis on certain body parts, eh? Well?” Joe’s gorgeous smile seemed to be getting even bigger as I trembled in lust and fear in front of him. 

“I… I’m…” I tried, stuttering, but the words simply stuck in my throat. 

“Go on, you can ask me. It’s okay. I promise I won’t hurt you. And if you ask real nice, I might be good enough to let you feel for yourself…” 

I just nodded, mumbling something unintelligible. He never shifted his electric green gaze from mine, but suddenly there was a subtle change in his eyes, a certain softening, and I found myself released from eye contact. 

“You like a bit of meat on your men, do you? So how do you like me, huh?” he said, puffing up, but only a bit, and twitching his chest muscles. He sort of half-flexed, which with his full pump threw me into new levels of arousal. He was so near that for the size of him I could only look into his face or at his pecs. His pecs, my god… and then I felt like I got pricked in my balls, and I realized I’d just shot my load into my pants! He looked down to the bulge on my jeans, and the spreading stain of wetness, making an almost comically inquisitive face, peering over his huge chest at me. 

“Well, well! I guess really you DO like what you see!” So now he knew. 

“Nice! I like being appreciated. So, what’s it gonna be, hmm? The question?” he asked again. 

“I… How…” I gave my throat a second chance. His face looked both patient and expectant, a ‘go on, it’s okay’ expression on his heartbreakingly handsome face. Somehow, this made my throat unclench and the words finally got out. “Wha… What do I have to do?” I winced the moment the words left my mouth.

A deep chuckle rumbled through Joe’s massive barrel chest. “Not exactly the question I would have expected, but still a good one… and from a clearly honorable man, no less…” He could have easily crushed me with one hand, and I remembered at that point thinking of a cat cruelly playing with a mouse only to kill it later, but I was exhilarated as well, my entire body tight as a bowstring. Hell, my 13-inch cock was still hard as a rock in my cum soaked pants, as if I hadn’t blown a massive load only moments before. “But, as long as you're interested…” He looked at me closely then, considering something, and then he said, “If I let you go right now, let you leave here before things went any farther, you’d dream of me for the rest of your days, wouldn’t you? Wondering what it would have been like, imagining what it would have felt like to fondle and squeeze and grope me, and feeling miserable because you didn’t… You think you could live with that?” 

If he only knew how right he was! I dared hope he did know. When... IF I got out of there alive, I’d have trouble facing the regular mundane life knowing that someone like him existed in the world. 

“Well, it wouldn’t be very nice of me to let down an admirer, especially not one so curious and respectful…” he grinned and laughed again, looking me up and down once more with his discerning and hungry gaze. “…not to mention so muscular and handsome!” He turned away from me then and strode back to his locker, exposing his giant back and massive, flexing buttocks once more. He grabbed a duffel bag from within, closed the locker door, and looked to be getting ready to leave. Why, why, WHY did it have to happen this way?! 

“And also so different from the other men. Proposing equitable trade, no less! Well, well…” he droned on. He then turned around to face me once more, large duffel bag hoisted over one colossal shoulder. I thought I was beyond the point where anything could startle me at that point, but I was wrong. “I tell you what. Consider this your lucky day, your break in life.” He looked like a true god of muscle come to earth, standing there naked and proud before me. 

“I’ll cut you a deal,” he continued. “I’ll let you grope and squeeze all you like, even with my help, and drool all over me as long as you like… under one condition.” My heart was thundering so hard in my chest I was certain Joe could hear it halfway across the room! “If you want me to flex for you, then you have to get this baby to flex too,” he said, pointing at his crotch. “You are allowed any method or methods you like, hard or soft, gentle or rough, as long as at least one of them works. There will be a special bonus if you manage to go to certain… lengths…” Was that a wink? “Let’s just say that I like an honest admirer to really get to know me once in a while… and it’s been a very long while! So you’ve got your chance, stud… and you’d better make it good!” 

He stood there, waiting, but the immensity of the situation had stuck me to the spot. What had I gotten myself into? “Come on, handsome,” he said, a warm smile making his face even more devastatingly gorgeous, if that was even possible. “Come with me. Never mind the tools; they’ll still be here waiting for you tomorrow” One of his huge paws gently but firmly clasped my shoulder as he steered me toward the back door. 

My next huge surprise was the fact that big Joe lived right above the gym. I had always assumed that he lived in the huge mansion at the edge of town (which he did indeed own as part of his family’s estate, but which he hadn’t actually lived in since he was a boy), and that the upstairs portion of the gym was simply used for office or storage. He was still completely nude, the cool night air apparently having no effect on his mammoth naked form, as he led me up a series of back stairs to his front door. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the gigantic globes of his supremely muscular ass, which bulged and flexed most beautifully as he lumbered up the steps ahead of me. I longed to dig my fingers into those fantastic glutes and bury my face in the incredibly deep and hot cleft between them. 

My mind was a swirling fog of conflicting thoughts and emotions, and I was consumed in a dizzying whirlwind of lust, fear, denial, and greed. But ultimately, I decided that I’d rather die than miss this most extraordinary opportunity. I wanted this man more than I’d wanted anything else in my life. But at the same time, I was afraid that I wasn’t going to be able to do what he asked, that I would disappoint him in some way and be found wanting. 

The front door opened directly into his apartment, which was a huge open plan living room/bedroom/kitchen that was the same size and the gym floor’s footprint below, making it a very large studio apartment indeed. And that was a good thing, too, as Joe’s gargantuan form seemed to fill even that enormous space. 

He practically led me by the hand into his home. It wasn’t easy to unstick my gaze from the  monstrosity of his manhood, even if only to look at the rest of his glorious body. And all of a sudden it dawned to me why he never appeared in public in anything other than the baggiest of clothes; there was simply no WAY to fit his goliath endowment into anything smaller. Normal gym wear was out of the question, let alone the ridiculousness of a posing strap… though the thought of him utterly overwhelming even the most massive posing slip with his herculean size made my still rock hard cock give a powerful lurch in my sperm-soaked pants. 

I barely remember how, but in the process of getting from the entrance to the bedroom area at the far size of the apartment, I lost all my clothes too, until I was as naked as this god of muscle who stood before me. I should have felt entirely small and insignificant next to this huge man — and indeed, in some ways I did — but at the same time I felt completely safe in his presence. Maybe it was the look of hunger and need I saw reflected in Joe’s own captivating green eyes, a gaze filled with confidence and power, and maybe even a bit of ownership over me. 

There was an absolutely enormous bed against a hip-high dividing wall, a bed that simply had to be custom made, for it was larger than even a California king. There was room for both of our big forms to share the bed with plenty of room to spare! The bed faced a wall — a mirrored wall — with a thick throw rug covering the distance between the foot of the bed and the wall. 

Joe sat down in the middle of the bed, pushing himself back until he was propped up against the dividing wall, sitting upright with his massive legs spread open wide, his goliath bollocks resting heavily on the bed and his two feet of limp cock drooping heavily over his right thigh. 

I stood there for several moments, rooted to the spot, uncertain at first about how I should approach him. That’s when I noticed that the top of the dividing wall was acting like a shelf, with a large bottle of baby oil, a thick tube of moisturizing cream, and a long cloth tape measure ready and waiting. 

Joe had already had the room all prepared for me. 

At my questioning look, the big man said, “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a long time now, Dave. You’re the handsomest man I’ve ever seen, and certainly the sexiest man to ever come to this little town, and I’ve wanted to get to know you better from the first time I saw you.” My heart was fluttering in my chest at Joe’s unexpected words. This unspeakably massive bull of a man wanted ME!?! It didn’t seem possible, yet here I was, in his bedroom with him lying naked and ready before me. “I see that you’ve already noticed the ‘tools of the trade’ that I laid out on the headboard here, so you might as well start using them.” 

I found myself kneeling at one corner of the bed, my hard cock standing out like a spear before me. Joe had practically spread himself across the mattress, but there was still more than enough room for me. His frighteningly huge body was still all pumped up, ballooning muscles bulging bigger than anything I’d ever seen in my life. I could not resist anymore, and placed my hands on one of his impossibly huge pecs. The sheer curvature of it made me start stroking it, and I felt my cock instantly grow even harder, if that was possible. His skin felt like warm velvet, while the muscles beneath felt like solid steel. He groaned softly, his eyes half closed, and started stroking his cock, so damn slow, pulling to the side, with every stroke stretching it, hinting at the size it could become. 

If I managed to get it hard. If. I didn’t know what to do, what he expected. 

I reached for the baby oil. “Nope,” big Joe said. “The cream goes first.” I took the huge tube of cream in one hand and looked at him quizzically. What am I supposed to do with a tube of moisturizing cream, for God’s sake?! His eyes slowly went from me down toward his crotch. I opened the tube, and squeezed some of the milky white cream onto my palms. I moved down, hesitating, still not understanding exactly what he wanted, when it suddenly dawned on me. 

I smeared cream onto my palms, bent down, and with a slowness approaching reverence, touched his manhood for the first time. I guess maybe part of me was afraid that it would turn out to be a dream after all. His satisfied grunt told me that was exactly what he wanted. The skin moved over the member freely, indicating that it was so limp that it was practically shriveled. He was beautifully uncut, and holding his cock near the head was like holding a very thick, very heavy rope by one end, while the other end was connected to his crotch. It was completely flaccid, and as I smeared the cream all over that tremendous column of flesh, I enjoyed every moment of it. I was amazed how it easily stretched by multiple inches if I squeezed and pulled only a little. I didn’t yet even dare think of how huge that cock must get when it was fully hard, and I managed to stifle the hedonistic urge to pull and yank at it only to get an inkling of the size it would become. 

“Yes, good… smear it thick, all over…” he mumbled as I added more and more of the cream. which was quickly absorbed into his skin, making the entire phallus slick and slippery. All of a sudden, he opened his eyes and his arm moved to straighten his cock over his thigh, which he did by pulling at it by the base and then stretching it out until his gripping hand was just behind the bulbous, foreskin-covered head. It made a faint slap as it smacked up against his huge right thigh. Then with his free hand, Joe started groping around the shelf behind him, his upper arm ballooning into even more insane dimensions until he found the waiting tape measure. He tossed it to me and just said, “Well?” I obediently took the tape measure as he pulled his hands away from his hose and lifted up his crotch by trusting his hips upwards. God, what a monster! Now that I had something to compare it with, it looked even larger! I had to carefully straighten it and it reached down below his knees! I stretched the tape measure over it, draping the cloth strip down the entire length of that unbelievably massive phallus. 

“So, how long is it?” Joe asked, his eyes still closed. He put both of his arms behind his head, which made his biceps bulge outward even larger than before, losing the contest for precious space with his forearms and shoulders. When he raised his arms, his enormous pecs flattened only slightly, still mounding impossibly huge over his corrugated cobblestone abs, and his large, square chin was pressing into the crevice between the spectacularly meaty chest muscles. 

“Jesus... It’s almost two feet long! I’m reading twenty-two and a quarter inches!” I said, awe and wonder in my lust-roughened voice. I realized in amazement that Joe’s limp cock shattered all world records for the longest hard cock in human history! 

“Hmm… I thought you were supposed to get it harder… and bigger…” he rumbled softly, winking teasingly at me was a smirk turned up one corner of his decidedly kissable mouth. His abs twitched as he spoke and then continued to slowly rise and fall as he breathed. ‘Shit,’ I thought, ‘can your cock even get bigger than this?!’ And then I had a sudden idea! Maybe a stupid, preposterous idea, but I was sure, dead sure, that I knew what to do. And I knew why. I managed somehow to stifle down the lust boiling inside of me. This was going to take concentration, all of the concentration I could muster. After all, I hadn’t done this for a very long time. 

I had done some experimentation with hypnosis in my university days. I took a course initially as a lark, simply to satisfy my psychology requirements, but I quickly grew curious and intrigued. I did further exploration into this form of guided meditation, using it first as a parlor trick at parties, then later as a good way to support myself through college. I hadn’t used hypnosis on another person in several years, and I felt rusty at it, but it was almost as if I had a guiding spirit in that moment. 

I also knew that there was something strange in this situation. Joe was clearly into me and enjoying himself, but he was still completely soft. Now at his impossibly monstrous size, the word ‘hard’ was likely going to be a relative term, as I knew that there was likely no way that such an enormous slab of man meat could approach something like a usable hard on. But still, Joe’s cock hadn’t yet plumped up even in the slightest from where it had started. I had real trouble controlling my voice at first as I finally started chanting and stroking him rhythmically, but my voice grew stronger and more confident as I continued. He only commented that this was certainly a new approach, but, again, there was that change in his eyes and he cooperated wonderfully, which only added to my confidence. In fact, it was so easy, I don’t think he even realized it when he finally went under. 

I remember distinctly finding it… well, funny, trying to practically tell someone ‘your cock will grow’ and keeping a straight face and a steady voice, but I persevered. I managed to suggest it, but not in so few words. I suggested that he’d start getting hard after I say a key word, and that he would keep on growing until I told him to stop. I was realizing the darkest depths of my most secret desires. I had always dreamt of feeling in flesh the biggest cock in the world, and I had most definitely found it! Just the thought of the size the freak cock in front of me could become pushed me to the brink of shooting my load for a second time. 

At his size, I knew that it would take ages to get hard, if he got hard in any usable sense. I was sure that was part of his problem. So I made sure I used every way at my disposal to convince him that he could do it, and that I would be there with him when he did it. But my secret, darkest desires were also coming into play, as I wanted to see this preposterously, grotesquely overgrown mutant piece of man meat get so hard, so freakin’ hard that there was no hard-on like it in history, and I hypnotically suggested exactly that to big Joe. And I didn’t stop there. I didn’t care about any consequences — I wanted to see how big the biggest cock could get, I wanted him to grow more and more and more, to grow to unimaginable dimensions, to bloat up, to pump himself bigger and bigger. And then, to see him have the most earth shattering orgasm.

After more than ten minutes of hypnosis and suggestions and build up, I then said the keyword.

Nothing happened, except for him opening his beautiful green eyes — a record in short recovery! He seemed completely unfazed by what I’d done, and handed me the bottle with the baby oil. “Let’s say I’m giving you a clue,” he said with remarkable calm, voice rumbling through the mattress and into my body. “Just oil me up. It’ll help, I promise.” 

I poured oil from the bottle in a greasy line from his crotch right up to his pecs, and started eagerly rubbing it into him. My hands glided over him, impeded by every bulge of his gargantuan muscles, but as much as I pressed into him to make them flex, he neatly avoided it, smiling, because he knew what I wanted — and my part of the bargain was still not done. He had such unbelievable muscle control that he could have played with me as long as he wished. I started feeling up on his gigantic pecs, the baby oil making even the coarseness of his chest hair smooth beneath my exploring hands, and the erotic excitement of gripping and groping such impossibly large chest muscles helped keep the disappointment of my apparent defeat at bay. 

And then he started breathing more deeply. 

“You might want to hurry it up, Dave. It seems you’re pressing the right buttons after all!” 

I glanced at Joe’s face, seeing the pleasure evident in his extraordinarily handsome features, and then I glanced down as his crotch. A single glance was all I needed to know that my plan was starting to work. I took more of the baby oil and used it to cover his magnificent arms. I did it quickly, marveling at the fact that I would need a third hand, and perhaps even a fourth hand, to reach all the way around his utterly goliath upper arm. Even with my two big hands, I could barely get even halfway around their monstrous circumference!  

“Yes… good…” he said, and I could not contain myself any longer, and neither could he. As soon as I stopped rubbing him, he reached down and pulled his hose up over his belly. It was a bit bigger, but still pliable and drooping, and its head was right over the crack between his upper pecs. There were only maybe three inches to spare to his chin! 

“Don’t you worry… It always takes a while… You’re doing great,” he said encouragingly, a soft smile on his face. He went over his pec with one arm, and I needed no more cues. I started stroking his pec again, intently looking down his abdomen where his hose rested heavy, cradled by the six huge bulges of his massive belly muscles. I started playing with his thick nipples, tweaking them and rubbing them until they became rock hard nubs of flesh. Gentle pinches made him moan, and harder pinches made him moan louder, so before long I was really crushing those thick paps between my strong fingers. But Joe sure had some tough teats, for he let me really maul those big nubbins, moaning louder and harder as I really worked them over. 

At first, Joe’s huge cock only swelled slightly, very slowly, getting about an inch and a half longer in the process, and only a bit thicker. I continued stroking his pecs, which he flexed only a bit, and I groped them hard every time he did so. God, what volumes! I carefully avoided his cock, though, letting it slowly plump up on its own. After about half a minute, I could feel his heart pumping as the veins along his lower abdomen slowly twitched and started bulging. 

“Ahhh, yesss…” the big bull sighed in obvious pleasure, and then it really started happening. In a matter of seconds, Joe’s cock grew over an inch, and then it just kept going, getting longer and slightly thicker with each passing second. I had to touch it, I had to feel it growing in my hand. I carefully wrapped both of my hands about the middle of the shaft, amazed that despite its size, it was still soft. I could feel it twitching with this heartbeat. It was slowly stretching my hands as its girth increased, and it crawled in small jumps over his oiled belly. 

He was still lying down, his preposterously big chest dramatically rising and falling as he breathed deeply. It struck me that his chest was so big that he had to lift himself up to see his crotch over it. I started stroking him, mumbling to myself, stroking from crotch to head, the whole incredible length, which was getting longer by the second, while he moaned and grunted and growled like an animal. His cock was starting to curve to the side, twitching slightly, its head now draped over his right pec. 

“Oh shit! It’s growing!” I blurted out, watching with awe and fascination as Joe fondled his cock as well, straightening it out as the bulbous, helmet-shaped head now hovered over his own face. I never let it go, it was so heavy, and so hot. I was sure it had long broken any imaginable size record for ANY terrestrial penis, man or animal, as it continued to grow. 

“Oh yeah… I’m getting really big now… oh yes…” he moaned, his eyes closed again. An urge overcame me and I started licking that massive cock all over, feeling with my lips its colossal length, its impossible thickness, its bulging and protuberant veins, and it was hot, so scorching hot. And yet it was still far from hard. And then I felt it — he started ‘flexing’ it, pumping blood into it, I could feel how it stretched under my lips. 

“Oh yes, pump it up!” I said, but it sounded like licking, because that’s what I did, all the time stroking his bulging pecs and tweaking his big nipples. 

“Bonus for you, my friend! It’s never been this hard in my life!” I heard him say, and felt his huge hand on my muscular back, stroking me. Hard!? I was right — he was still soft, he had never had a full hard on in his entire life — but he was well on the way to having one now.

“Oh yes… Lick it… Is it big enough for you, huh?” he moaned in half slurred words, his voice growing even deeper with lust. “Don’t you worry, you’ll get more! It’s getting bigger… I can feel it…!”  

It was very difficult to stop licking him, going from the shaft of his pole to the nipple of his bloated right pec. I did not want him to cum, as he had yet to get properly hard, and I wanted to see him achieve a true hard on. I sat up.

“…oh yes… I’ll pump it up… Oh God…!” he moaned, his beautiful eyes closed, and I saw his cock flex and stretch even further. In what seemed seconds, it grew even more and was already reaching over his right shoulder. 

“Fucking shit!! How big do you get!?!” 

“I dunno,” he replied, grunting and moaning through clenched teeth. “I guess we’ll find out together…” 

The sight froze me on the spot. I could not move. I felt my own cock hurting me with a once-in-a-lifetime boner, but I could not move. Joe groaned, and his mutant cock continued inflating like some enormous circus balloon, a thick throbbing vein running the entire dorsal length of it. As the skin stretched, hundreds of smaller veins and bulges started showing, erupting all over its spectacular length. I heard his voice drone, “I can feel it… It’s getting harder…! I feel the hardness in… inside me… like riding on a steel rod…!” I just kept staring, utterly transfixed. I had no idea where he got the blood to get it this big, and I didn’t really care. Watching even from this crazy angle, there was no doubt at all that this gorgeous beef heap in front of me would have had trouble giving himself a blowjob, not because his cock was too short, but because his over-bloated fuck pole was too LONG! I suddenly remembered the tape measure — it was still somewhere nearby. 

He suddenly moved, startling me as he sat up, and gripping his tree-trunk sized man meat by the thick and vein-gnarled root. My view was now obscured by the impossibly wide curtain of his back, but as he slowly lifted his huge meat, the cock head came fully into view over his shoulder. 

“Oh shit…!” I mumbled. I needed the tape measure badly — this simply wasn’t REAL! The great towering penis was swinging slowly under its undoubtedly very considerable weight. 

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the biggest of them all?” I heard Joe say as he gazed at himself hungrily in the mirrors. ‘Surely, this is as large as it can possibly get!’ I thought — but that clearly was not enough for him. 

He stood up, huge left fist around the base, not nearly covering the massive circumference, and his right hand holding it straight in front of him. If he wanted to reach the head, he would have had to pull it upwards, it was now so impossibly long. Compared to this, I had no cock to speak of! A voice kept repeating in my head, saying ‘This can’t be! This can’t BE!’ as he held his cock aloft, looking at his reflection and huffing and wheezing like an animal. Suddenly, I felt the tape measure in my hands, god only knows how it got there, but before I could come closer… 

“No!! Not yet!” he bellowed. “Get the cream! Now!!”

I obeyed, frantically searching for the tube, almost schizophrenically. I could see his reflection in the mirror. He looked like a tipped tripod, with the third leg of his mutant cock held up by his huge hands, his great melon-sized bollocks dangling pendulously below. Finally, I found it. I was beside him in a single jump, squeezing it so hard that the contents of the tube almost exploded onto his ramrod. I spread it all over as quickly as I could. He was trying to press himself into my hands, barely containing himself, but his mammoth legs twitched with that telltale jerking rhythm which gave off his intention.

“Enough!” he muttered. He slightly altered his posture and shifted his grip. In utter amazement, I watched him squeeze the base of his cock with his left hand, and saw how the skin on it stretched before my very eyes. I was afraid even to move. Unbelievably, the underside became visibly thicker, and with each squeeze and pump it curved upwards some more, like a bow, with him moaning like an animal on every squeeze. 

He was literally flexing it, and it twitched with every flex, growing ever bigger, curving upwards. He was still holding it with his right hand, gingerly, from the underside, the skin slipping several times as it grew even longer. I watched, rooted to the spot, as he continued to literally inflate his cock with the rhythmic pumping of his own powerful groin muscles. The sense of time’s passage returned when his incessant flexing started bringing ever-smaller gains in size. The mid-section of his cock was now much wider than the root, and the head, which was even wider, glistened like purple glass, the foreskin now entirely, perhaps even painfully retracted. He still squeezed madly, all sweaty, incredible muscle shapes sticking out on his arm and abdomen with every squeeze. Finally, after several flexes resulted in no movement at all, he sighed, and opened his eyes, a strange look in them. I swear I saw a glint there that gave me chills.

He very carefully lowered it a bit, blatantly showing it off by pushing his hips forward, still flexing it — I could see his massive balls twitch. He moved his right hand toward the head, but stopped mid way, holding the gigantic trunk of his cock from underneath, not being able to reach any further without pulling it up again. If he could squeeze only a drop of blood more into it, he would have, no matter what. He held it so, watching his image in the mirror, puffing and wheezing, which inflated his huge chest to the point where I thought it would rip his skin. 

“Yeah…! THAT’S what I call hard…! Really hard…” he said. “Now you can measure it.”

I realized the tape measure was still in my hand. As I approached, he moved his hands a bit. With much hesitation, I pressed one end of the tape onto the spot where his impossible organ jutted from his abdomen. Two veins bulged immensely on either side, each thick as my pinky. It looked like even the smallest scratch would make his cock literally explode. With great care to cover all of its curve, I unrolled the tape over the top of the biggest cock in the world, going from the thick root forward and over the even thicker trunk. Ten inches. Wider again, gingerly feeling the bulges of the big veins. It felt like a hot steel rod under my fingers as I passed over his right hand. Twenty inches. It curved still higher, now at the level of my chest, tapering now, the skin getting lighter as I reached what would have been the foreskin were it not so stretched out, the blood engorged tissue underneath forming thousands of small bumps. I reached the crown of his cock head, jutting out like a giant mushroom, and go over it, hearing his sighs as I pass the corona, flaring wider than my fist, stretching the tape further over the dark purple balloon of his cock head, and finally reaching the gaping piss slit. Thirty and a half inches of meat! With trembling hands, I then measured the circumference of the thickest part in the middle of the shaft to be eleven and a quarter inches. His cock looked like a gently curving torpedo. I could actually feel myself going slightly mad at the sight. 

“Get the bottle…” he groaned with a strained voice, veins bulging out on his beyond-bullish neck. I took the bottle with the remains of the lube and squeeze it into the palm of his left hand, outstretched to me. He was not holding the base of his cock any more, but it lost none of the hardness at all. The veins over the root pulsed faintly, trying to get still more blood into the mammoth member. He quickly spread the lube over his abs and half his chest. 

“Hold it,” he commanded, and I gingerly took his engorged organ right beside his right hand, replacing it with both of mine. He started letting go, and it sank down a bit. It was so heavy, even heavier than it looked, and I was unprepared. 

“Careful…” he croaked. I was holding it firmly now, about ten inches back from the base of the enormously swollen head. He let go of it. Hanging down, it would have easily reached his ankles. He took the bottle from me and managed to spread some of the contents over his chest and arms, taking care not to move too much. If I let his cock fall, I thought it would probably tear the mighty ligaments that held it aloft and rip itself off his crotch! The crazy idea of him fucking me was so strong, but incredibly some semblance of reason remained in my mind. He would tear me and himself apart if he tried to fuck me with his monstrous cock! He could literally spear me through with it! 

Suddenly, he moved, facing the mirror directly. He looked at his own impossible reflection for a few seconds, panting heavily. 

“Ohhh fuuuuck! Look at me! I’m really huge, huh?” he whispered, though whether to me or to himself, I wasn’t sure. Watching in wonder, I started stroking his cock with both of my greased hands, still holding it as steady as I could. “Oh… a… ah…!” he moaned as I stroked all the way up to the flaring ridge of his cock head. “Oh Jesus! Yes…! Oh David, yes, jack me off!” And then before I could see it coming, he did a lat pose, slowly spreading until his utterly gigantic lats filled out the remaining space between the rest of his torso and his elbows, and then some. That was too much for me.

In front of me was the biggest, strongest, handsomest, most desirable male in the entire world – a true superman in every respect, strutting, flexing, and inflating himself, showing off like the prime breeding bull that he was. He looked ready to burst his seams. Inside my head a switch flicked from ‘human’ to ‘animal’. My tortured manhood was by now engorged as never before, all dripping with precum, lust taking over what precious little was left of the rational mind. All at once I had the impressions of his inflated chest, his pumped up pecs, the granite of his mountainous abs, his lats flaring at an improbable angle, the corded pillars of his legs, and the impossible size and shape of his manhood, swelled to grotesque and gigantic dimensions by his incessant pumping, as I held it in my hands, and his back fully flexed. I could feel my big balls twitch as I started rubbing him uncontrollably. He started moaning like an animal and then he suddenly inflated his chest to the max. Then I felt lightning strike.

It came like a flash; I had never experienced anything like it in my life. I must have been shaking like a maniac, still trying desperately to hold up his massive pole while jerking him off, as my huge cock exploded with eruptions of hot jizz all over me, him, and the mirror, without me even touching it, shooting huge gobs of my milky juice several YARDS away. It felt like pissing, unending, but I never shifted gaze from him. 

He held the pose, flexed to the point of cramping, his unbelievably handsome face holding a mask of a man screaming, but without a sound. His abs twitched uncontrollably and he stabbed forward with his hips, playing dangerously with my precarious balance. His mammoth balls were twitching and convulsing visibly in orgasm, trying to pump his sperm into the shaft of his cock. And considering the distance that cum would have to travel, he would have to have some seriously powerful balls to power that cum through. 

Then suddenly, I felt his cock swell to even greater dimensions as he came. Nothing came out of the piss-slit for several seconds as the great wellhead of cum worked its way up the two and a half foot plus shaft… and then there were suddenly buckets full of the stuff, pumping out with a force and violence I couldn’t believe. Joe didn’t cum in shots, blasts, or wads like mortal men; he came in pints, quarts, and gallons. Each blast was a truly massive splurt of cum, rocketing forth with such force that, as it struck me full in the chest, it damn near knocked me over. The sheer quantity of the deluge was unbelievable, and the first four blasts drenched my torso and ran down my legs in thick rivers. And these blasts were followed by more, and more, and yet more, the huge stud cumming in a parody of a human orgasm, my wildest cum fantasies brought to life. 

It was only after more than a score of massive blasts of cum, each more copious and voluminous than a normal man could produce in a month of constant milking, the titanic orgasm began to ebb. Another dozen or so slowly decreasing blasts followed, splashing onto our bodies and the thick rug beneath us, which was already soaked with his spunk. It was the thickest and whitest cum I had ever seen, clearly chock full of potent bull sperm, and was so clotted and chunky that it looked like it had lumps in it. That was some very thick splooge indeed! 

I kept right on rubbing his rock hard cock until he finally relaxed his lat pose and took his cock with both hands. It was still dribbling large gobs of his man juice when I finally let it go. I slumped onto the bed and he leaned onto the mirror, passing slowly from the root to the head of his monster manhood, squeezing, a thick stream of jizz coming out of the piss-slit every time he would reach the head, holding his cock almost straight into the air to accomplish this. It was long enough to reach his forehead. He really could not give himself a blowjob without bending it backwards, and it was so stiff and so hard that I’m not sure even Joe’s almighty strength could have bent it far enough, at least not without breaking it!

We stayed that way for a while — him leaning against the mirror and panting, me sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at him with open mouthed wonder — I have no idea how long. But his mega erection clearly had no intention of ebbing; in fact, I could have sworn it looked even bigger than before! 

“I knew there was something special about you the moment I saw you, Dave,” Joe said to me, meeting my gaze through his reflection in the mirror. “And I don’t just mean your handsome face, beefy body, and huge cock. I just knew that there would be a connection between us, and that you might succeed where every man before you had failed.” He paused and turned to face me, looking directly into my soul. “Just tell me that you can do that again.” 

I shook my head so hard in the affirmative that I know I must have looked like a fool, but a large, warm smile spread over Joe’s achingly handsome features as he accepted my response. 

He looked down at his cock, still rock hard and huge in his hands, and said with incredulity, “God! It must be thirty inches long! And it’s HARD!”

“Even longer,” I heard myself rasp before gathering the courage to say, “I’d like to know about the rest of you…” 

I couldn’t believe that I’d said that out loud, and I instantly flushed with embarrassment. But Joe just laughed, sounding amused and pleased by my words. He slowly kneeled down, keeping his knees spread out wide, so that he ended up in a sort of half-kneel, half-squat on the cum-splashed rug. He then gingerly let his monstrous pole ease down until the bulk of it was resting on the soggy rug. God, what a sight! I felt the rush of blood once again to my sore and distended cock. Joe’s monumental penis extended so far in front of him that he couldn’t reach the head of his own cock without bending it up. 

I quickly followed suit, half squatting directly in front of him, his humongous cock passing between my spread legs and inches below my muscular ass. My sights were again glued to his monstrous, cum-drenched pecs. I started stroking them, using his own thick cum as a sort of sticky lubricant, and he obediently began flexing them into huge and hard mounds of freaky flesh. Then he literally inflated his chest by breathing in as deep as possible, and then flexed his pecs so his chest stood out practically horizontally. I didn’t even try to stop a gasp of wonder and lust at the feeling of it hardening and growing under my hands to even more impossible dimensions, forming warm, bulging cords of cabled steel beneath my gripping and exploring fingers.

“GEEZUS! How can you be so fucking BIG!!” I muttered more to myself, stroking and fondling those huge pecs. I could finally resist no longer, and my big hands caressed over one of Joe’s gigantic shoulders to start grasping one of his arms. It was so big, his bicep bulged huge and meaty even totally relaxed. I could not even get a grip around its elongated, football-shaped bulk with both hands, as there were inches to spare. “…huge fucking beef…” it was like hearing someone else talk. Suddenly I realized I must have been mumbling like that for a while now, groping and squeezing him, not believing the impossible volumes of muscle under my hands. He was obviously getting as much enjoyment out of it as I was, moaning and whispering encouragements to me in his deep and resonant voice. 

I didn’t even want to guess at the size of him, I wanted to know it exactly. I passed a regrettable glance over his yard-plus wide physique to the tape measure on the floor behind him. There were some things I just had to do. Making sure my touch never left his skin, I reached beyond him and grasped the tape, my naked body brushing up against his mighty muscles, and making my huge cock leap in response at the mere touch of our bodies pressed together. First things first — I carefully wrapped the cloth tape around his relaxed arm, and he helped me by raising it a bit. I placed the tape where I guessed the arm would peak the most. He knew exactly when to start flexing, and he did so, with maddeningly slowness. 

“Yeah! Flex it! Pump it up big for me! Show me what a muscle bull you are!” I said, and he slowly obliged. He first simply raised up his arm, letting the gigantic teardrop of his triceps muscles hang down relaxed. I only had a few seconds to get a cold measurement before he started bringing up his forearm, already stretching the tape. His cold upper arm measurement was definitely something over 28 inches, larger than any arm I had ever heard of! That’s all I could see before it started getting larger by the second as he slowly flexed. His half-hanging biceps first rose to life again, forming that overinflated football shape, and as he brought his forearm higher, it started getting shorter and then rounder, transforming into an almost a perfect sphere of muscle. With great control, he increased the flex, causing the separate heads of his biceps to come into view, and turning his triceps into a collection of thick cords and the most pronounced, dramatic horseshoe shape I’d ever seen. He then slowly pulled his elbow inwards and slightly down, making way for a full biceps flex, and then turned his wrist inward, fully flexing. 

“Holy fucking SHIT!!” I exclaimed as his bulging peak suddenly became higher and grew a further peak on the second head of the muscle, shattering all possible size records, the big cords of his triceps dividing into smaller cords as his skin seemed to virtually disappear, melting away to show the incredible grainy striations of his magnificent, massive muscles. Even with his long-boned and oversized frame, there was only what looked like a bit more than two inches to spare between the tip of his engorged biceps and his clenched fist! I almost unconsciously adjusted the measuring tape, which now read something over 30 inches! My god, that was almost as big as my waist!! 

The flexed muscle of his forearm pushed out a spectacular network of bulging veins. He had the most freakishly shaped biceps of all time, bulging almost twice as high as it was long when fully flexed, so that the tendons holding it to the elbow joint now stood vertically under his skin. His skin was stretched so tight that it became visibly lighter, and the pale blue of that incredible venous network showed through more clearly. He pumped his swollen biceps up and down very slightly, squeezing so hard I could actually hear his tendons groan, regaining pump, and soon the ends of the tape popped out of my hand. I let the tape fall down so that I could feel this steel mountain of muscle with both hands. There was so much rock hard meat flexing there before my eyes that there was plenty of acreage for my hands to explore, and explore they did, groping and squeezing and caressing for all I was worth. 

I suddenly started feeling a rhythmic thumping of something very thick and very warm against my naked ass cheeks, and I realized with a start that Joe was flexing his enormous cock cannon beneath me, which was rearing up off of the floor with each mighty flex to smack against my big, solid ass! Dear gawd, the sheer POWER it must take to lift such a huge and heavy cock into the air!! The unbridled STRENGTH of his groin muscles to lever such a fantastically long column of solid, heavy flesh skyward with each mighty pulse!! The feeling drove me mad with lust, and I started to ride his huge cock, sliding my sweat- and cum-slickened ass up and down its extraordinary length, and pressing my own huge cock down onto its MUCH larger brother. 

We were soon moving in perfect synchronicity, my right hand rubbing my big cock into his monster meat, his huge left hand gripping me behind my muscular neck and firmly massaging me, and my left hand squeezing and groping madly at the massive oiled balloon of his right biceps muscle, which he continued pumping and flexing up and down, making me feel it ebb and grow back to its out-of-this world dimensions. Our eyes were locked together and our voices became a collection of grunts, hisses, sighs, and finally wails of erotic agony as I experienced the fire of orgasm yet again, cumming for the third time in little over an hour and spraying his goliath, herculean chest with more jizz than I ever thought I had. Though my load was huge by normal standards, a veritable ‘money shot’ that would have made the greatest porn star proud, it paled in comparison to Joe’s super human, hyper masculine ejaculation. 

I almost fell back as I tried to drop down to reach his own fountain in time, distant because of the preposterous size of his manhood, moving quickly as he started spreading my hot jizz over his humongous chest with his hand, his pecs twitching uncontrollably telling me, together with the urgent and almost pained expression on his gorgeous face, about the rising roar in his head. I practically lay down before it, my cock still belching out its own mighty load, unwilling to even touch his spear, and wrapped my lips around as much of his mammoth cock head as I could, but succeeding in getting them around little more than the gaping piss slit, teasing it with my tongue, tasting his heady, musky flavor. He shouted at the same instant, barely managing to hold himself from falling over, and this time I was sure his hose swelled as I waited for it to fill me up with untold pints of his unbelievably thick baby batter. 

It once again took several seconds for the swelling tide of his splooge to bridge the vast distance from his humungous, convulsing balls and up the tremendous column of his cock shaft. Finally, I was rewarded by a great clotted gush of thick, hot liquid, instantly filling my mouth to overflowing with that single, utterly gigantic pulse of sperm. I swallowed as quickly as I could, his male essence tasting both sweet and salty, and very beefy, and also of something reminding me of almonds. 

Gigantic streams and gushers lashed my tongue and filled my mouth, choking me. It was like trying to drink an entire river, and after the first three or four pulses of sperm, I had to pull my head back to avoid drowning in Joe’s insanely copious semen. Thereafter, I had to be content to drink from his huge hose, letting the vast bulk of his load splash onto me and the rug as he moaned like an animal, again and again, grinding his majestically tumescent cock into the thick fibers of the rug. 

Once again, the orgasm seemed to last for an eternity, and I swear that Joe pumped out even more sperm in his second orgasm! Both myself and the rug were quickly soaked in his gelatinous, sticky sperm, and I remember fleetingly thinking that he would have to throw this rug out after tonight. It was simply too drenched in his manly fluids to be saved. 

What followed is more than a bit hazy. I remember watching him half-sprawl on the floor, his great chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath. It took almost ten minutes for his hardon to even BEGIN going flaccid, and another ten minutes after that before it was fully limp again. As his shaft was shrinking and wrinkling and growing smaller, I grabbed the moisturizing cream bottle and managed to wring out the last of the lotion to spread over his deflating cock, hoping to keep the irritation down. 

After that, I think we dozed for a few minutes, my heavy weight laying on top of his far more enormous form. A short time later, we both got up, and a grinning Joe produced several large bath towels, which we used to scrape the bulk of the nut sludge off of our bodies. Enough so that we could crawl into the bed together, reeking of sweat and spunk, completely spent. 

I slept more deeply that night than I think I ever had in my life. I woke up periodically, needing to make sure that it wasn’t a dream, and that the massive, hulking form of big Joe Fiedler was still lying there by my side. We took turns spooning each other throughout the night, utterly comfortable in each other’s presence, our bodies melding with one another like we were made for each other. The night was full of dreams of him, as I felt the magnificent bulges of his huge muscles pressed up against my own body, and I don’t think my cock went entirely soft the entire night. Several times, I briefly awoke to find Joe’s impossibly long, flaccid penis draped over my body, a heavy, warm weight that was almost impossible to describe, and I would smile with utter contentment as I fell back asleep…