Big Is Better

BIG IS BETTER

By XH4M

This story is a fantasy. All characters in this story are fictional with no resemblance to any real persons implied. Any reader with objections to graphic descriptions of sexual encounters between males, who may not have reached the legal age of consent, or whose local, regional, state or national jurisprudence prohibits such descriptions, should NOT read further. Copyright (c) 2000 XH4M. 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 story should be directed to: xhuge4muscl@hotmail.com

PART 13 - CHEERS

I could never forget the details surrounding the day we first locked eyes on each other. It was in the dead of winter on a Sunday afternoon, I'm guessing around 2 P.M., and just as frigid as a witch's titty outside. I'd spent the previous several weeks in heads-down research work every waking moment. I was horny as hell and in desperate need of some man-company - desperate enough to even risk experiencing yet another disaster. So I found myself back in that local bar nursing a brewskie by myself, trying to 'celebrate' my 19th birthday. Funny how a guy can feel suddenly so lonely when he's in a bar of all places, but I surely did. And the pickings were sadly even slimmer than usual. Ironically, I was one of the 'bigger' guys in the bar that afternoon. That seemed like some kind of cruel joke. It could have otherwise passed for a concentration camp survivors convention. So much for that birthday wish.

My thoughts inevitably began drifting. Suddenly Gabe came to mind. I wondered where he was and what he was doing now. But on this particular afternoon, I was uncharacteristically sitting right at the bar rather than propping myself upright in my usual corner, my more typical modus operandi. Lost in my private thoughts, I vaguely heard a voice coming from over my right shoulder....

"Hi there. I'm Samson. But please, my friends just call me Sam...."

From the voice's close proximity, this overture was obviously being directed to me. I continued nursing my beer. A part of me wanted to say, 'Please just leave me alone,' without even turning around. That part wasn't in the mood for another ultimately disappointing, and too-often embarrassing, one-night stand - or in this case, a one-afternoon stand. Of course another part of me wanted something else entirely, and was still clinging to hope. My optimist and pessimist were engaged in mortal combat.

But this voice did have an unusually nice quality to it, I'd noted. It was deep and seductively masculine. But before I could crank my head around to check out its source, I felt a hand on my right shoulder - and this hand was squeezing it in a friendly sort of way. The gesture did not sit well with me. I mean, unless I'd been looking at the guy for at least ten seconds, I thought it rude and horrible of him to touch me. Involuntarily, I looked directly at the hand and instantly surmised the owner wasn't likely a pianist. It was a stunningly large, heavily-veined paw - a real man's hand. Frankly, it's fortunate I was sitting down for I'd have surely fallen down in the following seconds. I naturally looked up over my shoulder to see who this hand belonged to. My vision was completely obstructed by an in-the-flesh absolute giant of a man filling my entire field of vision. His size was so unexpectedly shocking - and unequivocally frightening - I recoiled back and reflexively started to bolt up from my barstool.

"Whoa there!"

That steam shovel-sized hand immediately blocked my skyward launch-in-progress and pushed me back down on the barstool. For the moment I wasn't going anywhere.

"Hell, I knows I'm probably a bit scary. Maybe even more than just a bit," the giant started to chuckle. "Seems I always have that affect on guys. They run away from me. But please - don't run away. Please? I'm just a regular guy, really. Honest. Just talk with me awhile?"

I'm not sure I necessarily had any choice about it. That huge hand was still strategically placed and firmly holding me down. All I could see were these two slowly-moving cotton-covered white mountains less than three feet from my face. They were utterly immense and wildly three-dimensional. These ghostly apparitions were so alien it took several seconds for my brain to accurately identify exactly what they were. But when it finally registered, I was instantly dumbstruck. These stupendous, undulating snow-capped mountains were actually the guy's chest muscles covered by a white tee-shirt. But as the two behemoths continued to slowly writhe in front of my solidly-frozen eyes, they seemed to have a calming affect on me. Their subtle movements were hypnotizing. I couldn't command my eyes move anywhere else. It seemed time itself was suddenly slowing. Eventually I realized he was also wearing an unbuttoned, wide-open dark flannel shirt over that tee-shirt. It's just that his massive chest plates jutted out so far beyond his underlying ribcage the front panels of his flannel shirt had been pushed well out of their way to the sides. I could set my beer bottle on top of either of his massive 'shelves' and it would have certainly just stood there! I'm sure my mouth was falling open - a side effect of the hypnosis, no doubt. It's a good thing I'd pulled the stool up to the bar very closely or I'd have been immediately embarrassed by my hearty arousal, too - an undeniable sign of how powerlessly and instantly spellbound I really was.

"Say, the truth is I came down here hopin' to find ya, Pete. My buddy tells me your name's Pete, right? I'd never even be in this bar otherwise. I just scares too many guys, I guess. I don't hardly bother comin' here no more. Just ain't worth it. You maybe know what I mean? But I've been standing in that back corner over there, just watching ya for awhile, I has. My buddy said ya speak kinda softly, but 'cha carry a real big stick, boy. Is it true?"

"Say what?" I almost blurted out. Under any other circumstance, I would have certainly ignored or deflected that comment, or else possibly even denied it totally. I might have even bolted and ran out of the bar. But the truth is I was being intensely turned on by these two jumbo-sized masses of mind-blowing muscle as they continued to slowly undulate. My overabundant supply of hormones immediately controlled the moment. I couldn't think straight with all that blood pounding away inside my head. I couldn't even get a word to come out of my mouth. My mouth was as parched as the Gobi Desert. I choked trying to speak in fact, and took a swig of beer to stop the throat spasm.

Finally, I managed to stammer out, "Yes, Peter... I'm Pete. And, ahhh... I guess so... But you are definitely NO regular guy!"

"No - guess I knows what 'cha means, well enough," Sam chuckled. "I know this all scares guys away - well, most guys anyway," he said, quickly scanning his body from side-to-side with his eyes. "Does I scare ya, Pete?"

"Well honestly? Yeah, you scared the shit out of me," I replied perhaps a bit too honestly. Noting the giant's disappointed - or worse, possibly pissed off look - I quickly added, "I was really just startled, that's all. Maybe you should warn a guy before you just walk up behind him - especially when he doesn't see you coming!"

I remembered to smile, letting him know I was at least semi-sincere. Sam's mouth opened into a big, wide smile, showing a blazingly white and absolutely model-perfect set of choppers in his mouth.

"That'd be so great if you'd just sit and talk to me a spell. Maybe you can try to just forget the size of me, least for a little while?"

I knew that would be virtually impossible but nevertheless told Sam I'd try my very best to "picture him as a Munchkin." Meanwhile, my eyes were slowly beginning to take in other aspects of this truly gigantic man. I consciously noticed the real dimension of what was inside the arm of the long-sleeved shirt attached to this hand still covering my shoulder and part of my upper back, too. His large upper sleeve was filled to capacity with a humbling mass which reminded me more of an athlete's upper leg actually than a man's arm, from its size. Without a doubt it was the biggest arm I'd ever seen - more than I'd ever imagined even in my nocturnal fantasies. I was also now very aware my dick was still swelling up in my pant leg, hidden underneath the bar. I felt its weightiness. I was also more than a bit light-headed from the speed at which I was growing this torpedo. Lightening-fast, intense arousal too often had that affect on me.

After very slowly passing over a mile-wide pair of shoulders whose thickness from front to back also defied description, and traversing a neck that seemed as large as my waist, my eyes finally managed to make it all the way up to top of this man-mountain standing at my side. It wasn't really a cute or 'pretty boy' gorgeous face. No, not at all. If was a completely handsome face, and in the most utterly masculine of ways. In fact he possessed every feature I found irresistible. Sam had a large square jaw. Heavy brow. Clear sparkling eyes - the type I could get lost in. Though Sam was clean-shaven, I could see he possessed a dense beard - the kind which reeked of raw, potent masculinity to me. And this incredible face crowned a body which stood way over 6 feet - how much over I had no way to estimate. The fact was Sam's whole upper body was just so huge I couldn't begin to tell how tall he was, let alone what he might tip the scales at.

Meanwhile, he'd evidently been observing me mapping out every last inch of his gargantuan physique.

"So, there... now that you've taken a real good look," Sam observed aloud.

I immediately felt like I'd done something wrong - kinda guilty of some unknown crime. He returned again to promoting his most immediate agenda.

"Say, do you suppose maybe I could touch it - please?"

I thought his please may have been an afterthought, but I knew without a doubt what "it" referred to. I don't think a guy had ever been so bold with me this soon in the game and that sent a cold shiver up my spine. Seemed this guy Sam didn't care much for idle chatter, although there was also something undeniably very friendly about him. I tried to say something, but my mouth failed me again. After a long pause, Sam repeated his request again.

"I really just love - you know - big guys. I do! Really!"

There was something odd about the way he spoke. His manner of speech had an almost childlike quality, but there was something also exceedingly straightforward about him. Certainly lustful, yet unusually sincere. I sensed immediately a genuineness without any of the usual bullshit coming from this total specimen of manhood dominating my whole horizon. It seemed everyone else in the bar was disappearing. There was only Sam and me left in the moment.

"And if I was to say no, Sam, then what? You could ambush me outside later and easily do me severe bodily injury if you wanted to. So do I really have any choice here?"

"Course you can say no - if ya want. Absolutely! I'd never hurt you. I ain't that way. I never EVER hurt no one. A guy my size? Why that wouldn't even be fair."

From his expression, he seemed surprisingly hurt. Callously, it never occurred to me this King Kong might have real feelings. I felt ashamed for having hinted this was even a possible outcome.

"Hey that was a stupid thing for me to say, Sam. I'm sorry. Really, I am."

I reached up and patted him to reinforce I'd meant no harm. My awkward good-will gesture landed smack on his mega-chest - the most accessible target I could reach from where I sat. It was like patting the rump of a thoroughbred. The mass and density stunned me.

"That's O.K, Pete. I didn't wanna really do nothing else but look at it - maybe feel it a little. I didn't mean no harm. I thought ya might be the kinda guy who'd... you know... might sorta like a guy like me... even special-like. I must've figured you wrong though. I ain't the smartest guy in the world. Suppose you can already tell that, huh? But I was thinkin' the way you was lookin' at these... that maybe...."

Sam put his hands on his hips and slowly inhaled, spreading his elbows out. Like two Phoenix's rising, hard hemispheres of muscle rose up, forcing the front panels of his flannel shirt aside and sending them retreating into the deep recesses of his arm pits. His white tee-shirt underneath stretched tighter, perfectly hugging two swelling mountains of muscle. Huge nipples became clearly visible as the cotton threads pulled uniformly apart from each other, making his tee-shirt more transparent to me especially at this very close range. They were larger than silver dollars and pointed down at the floor - each suspended under a shelf of ballooning muscle. It was like watching two Zeppelins inflate. The two titans just continued to rise both upward and outward, finally reaching within only inches of my chin. Then the two tectonic plates of muscle began very sensually move completely independently and in opposition to each other. Amazingly, Sam commanded each one alternately to reach out even more and brush against each of my cheeks. The affect on me was instantly stunning; a fact which must have surely been written across my entire face, too. But for some absolutely idiotic reason, I thought I needed to "be cool" and not appear to Sam to be at least outwardly as totally swept-away as I actually felt inside.

By now Sam must have had some hint from my difficult-to-conceal reaction he may have actually pegged me quite accurately. I was totally spellbound and seduced, and my mouth may have even betrayed me by opening widely at moments. I don't know which excited me more - his massy mammoth chest muscles or the unbelievable command and control he exercised of each one of them. Regardless, I couldn't begin to control the seismic tremors of lust coursing through my entire body.

As the massive beasts continued their slow dance, Sam picked up the conversation exactly where he'd left off.

"It was just the way you were lookin' before - at these. I was hopin' for a second that maybe you liked 'em - you know maybe - kinda big on a man?"

It was difficult to keep any outwards semblance of being nonchalant in the face for such powerfully erotic visions, especially when I was thinking to myself, "Big? Those aren't big - they're fuckin' monstrous!"

I finally got my mouth to move but only with a concerted effort. I'd give him some positive feedback, but with intentionally subdued enthusiasm.

"I... I guess I kinda like them. They look...ahh... errr... good... actually...."

I wasn't sure Sam necessarily bought it though. With his question answered, Sam ended his hypnotizing display and relaxed, backing away from me slightly.

Still feeling dazzled by Sam's unusual seductive skills, I stupidly asked, " How... ahh... big are they really?" Then I caught myself being a bit too 'interested' for my own comfort and quickly tried to disguise my meaning. "Err, I mean... You... Tall. How tall are you? How much do you weigh?"

Very matter-of-factly, he replied, "Does it really matter? You can see I'm a big dude well enough, can't ya?"

In fact his exact stats probably didn't matter. He was monstrous. Here I was, being picked up by fucking King Kong! And he looked as if he could easily do that, too - and probably with just one hand. So why did I care about his stats? I also had the disturbing thought again that this monster could squash me like a fly if he wanted to. But Sam pressed his original agenda.

"So Pete. Will ya let me touch it?"

I whispered, "Do you mean touch it right here? Now? In public?"

Obviously trying to encourage my cooperation as well as to reassure me, he said, "Ain't no one paying no attention. No one's goin' to even notice...."

Strangely, in the next moment my head involuntarily gestured down towards my crotch.

"Sure. You can touch it, if you want to. Go ahead, but be discrete, O.K.?"

Sam's hand left my shoulder and came down on my thigh, still hidden under the overhang of the bar anyway. His hand found my bloated pant python, which was no particular challenge to locate in its current condition. As he sampled my wares privately, his eyes got glassy then his pupils suddenly dilated.

"God, it really IS... " He stopped mid-sentence, completely dumbfounded and unable to speak. Now he seemed as personally awestruck as I felt myself.

The look on his face reflected his initial disbelief, then genuine astonishment as he figured out the fantastic rumor he'd heard from his buddy about me wasn't a rumor at all. As he continued checking me out, I was also actively checking out the many large shapes underneath his clothing again. I was becoming even more conscious of just how much this guy totally dwarfed me. He was no man at all, by any previous measure I had anyway. He was a real King Kong - a powerful, huge and stunningly handsome man-beast who had amazingly large, erotic shapes everywhere I looked. Those special shapes which screamed 'superior strength' to every fiber of my being.

Sam's brought his mouth very close to my ear.

"Pete, it's... it's just way bigger than I'd... Now I've just GOT to really see it. Please, please, pleeeaassseee? I want us to go somewhere so's I can REALLY play with it. Just how big IS that thing? Wow, is that ever...."

This conversation was getting absurd... but strangely also as erotic as hell. Sam reminded me more of a boy talking even as my eyes told me every inch of this guy was definitely 'all man.' These two perceptions didn't quite fit together neatly in my mind. But what I found even more ridiculous was being in such close proximity to such a gigantic and powerfully-built man was turning me on so much I didn't actually care. So I end up finishing his thought for him.

"Yeah, I know it kinda freaky. I'm... I'm not normal. I mean my dick, Sam - it's a genetic trait I inherited. A doctor told me that. I've got some weird hormones. I don't even get hard-ons the same way other guys do."

What I was thinking during this self-confessional moment was that it actually takes me relatively much longer to get fully erect than other normal-sized guys. With me it's a process, not the quick event it seems to be with other guys.

"Wow. Hey, that's perfect! Say, we maybe even got something in common. I ain't exactly a normal guy either, case you ain't noticed. I figure there's always been somethin' different 'bout me, too. Maybe it's somethin' to do with them whore-mones you mentioned. Just I don't know anything 'bout that, really. All I knows is I'm big and all I want is to get even bigger! But better yet, Pete, the truth is I'm just made for guys with big tools, too. Honest!" he said with a mysterious sparkle in his eyes.

Sure. That's what they all said. I'd heard such bravado many times before and learned skepticism was a healthy thing when it came to these macho claims. Every guy I'd met had fallen far short of his stated capacity in the real moment of truth. But I was also undeniably enthralled by him. I stared into his pleading puppy-dog eyes as I weighed the pros and cons concerning Sam's proposition. Should I really go home with this guy? What's the worst that could happen? He was dangerously big but seemed decent enough, otherwise. It wasn't likely I'd meet another guy built like him again in a whole millennium. So maybe I should take a chance. After all, it was my damn birthday... and this dude was hotter than Hades.

I decided to cast caution to the wind and go through with it. My brain wasn't the organ making the decision however. My dick was in total control and I was over-the-top in lust. I'd have dropped my pants in the middle of Main Street at the height of Xmas shopping season for Sam, if he wanted me to.

I leaned into his ear, quietly saying, "Your big hand feels perfect... right there," pushing down on it to emphasize where 'there' was. "That feels real good. And I'll show it to you... if we can go somewhere private. Maybe back to your place, Sam? You see, I've got this roommate situation...."

"Yeehaa! We's outta here, right NOW!" Sam bellowed so loudly it's certain everyone in the bar heard we had a confirmed 'date,' too.

I suddenly had a wild impulse to ask Sam for something. It may have only been Sam's startling directness rubbing off on me a little, but at that moment I'd thought if he could be so open and direct about things then why couldn't I? But my face flushed embarrassing as I considered how advisable it was to make my special request known to him. I was concerned I might totally blow a good thing and Sam would end up walking away in disgust.

"So, ah... Sam... I have a question first before we leave. I was wondering if... if maybe... you'd be willing to...." Then I hesitated, suddenly unsure if I should continue.

Sam looked outright puzzled. "What do ya have on your mind, Pete?"

I could feel my face turning crimson.

Sam grinned. "Say, look at you. You're blushing! What 'cha want?"

Just Sam's noticing I was getting red-in-the-face made me even more embarrassed.

I chastised myself for a moment, then gave myself a silent pep-talk. "Damn Peter," I thought, "come on - just SAY it. Ask him! What's the worst that can happen? You'll go home alone. Ugh. That's all."

I decided to take a safer, more indirect approach, not quite trusting yet he'd be O.K. with this secret wish of mine. Even thinking about it greatly embarrassed me.

(I'd eventually come to understand that taking such a circuitous route was unnecessary with Sam. In fact, more often than not, he would completely miss my obtuse or vaguely-disguised requests. Moreover, he'd teach me to say exactly what was on my mind.)

"Sam, you said big ones turn you on?" I asked, already knowing his answer.

"They sure does! That is THE truth," he replied without hesitating. "A great cock just makes me crazy!"

I found myself hoping Sam meant that metaphorically and not literally. I continued to lead him cautiously.

"O.K, ahhh... Then you'd want to see my cock get as big as possible, right?"

"You bet 'cha! I can't hardly even wait to see that big mother!"

"O.K. Sam. Then it'd help get me really excited if maybe you'd... you'd maybe...." I started to stumble badly, again feeling too embarrassed to candidly express my thoughts.

"If I would what?" Sam asked, seeming more perturbed with my hesitation to clearly state what was on my mind.

"If you'd... maybe take off your shirt, so I could just see... I mean, you just look so... "

Sam finished my sentence for me.

"Big, maybe? I look so BIG? It's just all muscles. But I's a real strong guy, Pete. Really!"

I was relieved Sam more-or-less had correctly guessed where I was generally headed. He'd spared me having to come right out with it myself. Being so helplessly hooked on his muscles embarrassed me as much as the size of my dick. I just couldn't own that part of me, so I couldn't put that out to Sam either. But Sam also hadn't reacted negatively to my strange request. He hadn't seemed particularly bothered by it at all. I felt kind of good about that, if only for a fleeting moment. But even his mere spoken words, "It's just all muscles' as well as the reference to his admitted strength had the power to kick my desires into overdrive, all by themselves.

"Sam, it's my birthday today. Honest. And it always excites me more when a guy has his shirt off when... when... he's playing with it. That's all I meant by that...."

Right - but only a half-truth at best. A guy with great big MUSCLES is what jet-propels my erections best, but I couldn't seem to just say it aloud.

Sam just smiled. "Pete, well I got no problem t'all takin' my shirt off in front of anyone. I want 'cha to just think of me as a big birthday present. So tell me now, just how big does that 'ol dick of yours get anyway?"

"Oh - probably too big to be of much use... " I said, telling him now a whole truth with a forced half-smile. The blood was already starting to pound in my head at the mere thought of Sam's agreeing to peel off his shirt for me. I still didn't know how stupefying Sam's physique actually was, but I would shortly get a whole new concept about what 'big' really meant - and so would Sam, for that matter.

Sam was beaming from ear-to-ear. "O.K. Pete, we got us a deal! Boy, I think I'm a lucky man!" Then he got quiet as if thinking about something else.

"You seem like a nice guy, Pete. I mean a real nice guy. Just the kinda guy I'd like to be friends with. I mean... maybe even real special friends. Say Pete, do ya like feelin' this?"

He took my hand and placed it on his the upper part of his other arm hanging relaxed by his side. He obviously wanted me to check it out so I cautiously ran my hand around the back of it slowly and then along the side. My hand couldn't begin to even cover one-fifth of its mass. His arm was just that huge and felt just as rock-hard as granite. When my palm finally paused momentarily on the especially huge muscle in front, Sam slowly began raising his hand up toward his head and what I felt happening underneath his shirt-sleeve got my dick hard as granite, too. It was the most magnificent thing I'd ever felt. I may have even started to moan involuntarily, if only for moment before I caught myself and tried to stifle it.

"You really ARE Samson! That's HUGE! It's so HARD...."

Sam seemed relieved at my unmistakably positive response, but still replied modestly, "Oh, that's really nothing. My arms are puny right now. You should see 'em AFTER I've been liftin.' I like 'em when they get huge! You can come over to my gym sometime so's you can see 'em when they's REALLY big. But this here ain't what I'd call big right now...."

He was sincere - oddly apologetic - and also clearly dillusional if he really thought those arms of his were at all puny. There was something very unusual about even the way he perceived himself. I mean this dude was already super-sized, and I practically creamed at the thought of possibly watching Sam actually lifting. An ocean of pre-cum was steadily leaking from my inflated hog. With Sam's hand right back there 'on the jobsite' too, he took notice of that area of dampness in my jeans.

"Oh jeez, no! Did ya really cum already?" he asked, clearly concerned and obviously disappointed.

"Ahh... no, not yet... I didn't cum," I muttered. It was difficult to speak with my surging excitement. "That's just pre-cum...."

"That's PRE-cum? WOW!!" he exclaimed, appearing somewhat stunned by this disclosure. Granted, the size of the area of wetness in my pants was probably larger than most guys would be if they'd shot their full load. In fact I was just beginning to get warmed up nicely although he had no way of judging that. His was an understandable misperception of the situation.

"You're makin' me SO hot!" With that, Sam excitedly grabbed me under my armpits and effortlessly lifted me right off of my bar stool - and let me tell you that I was not exactly a welter-weight either. In the blink of an eye, he had me literally airborne. My legs reflexively wrapped around his waist to steady my trajectory. My hands could only find his two wide shoulders to grab on to which I used to steady myself momentarily. His shoulders were just monstrous and as rock-hard as his arms. I was suddenly face-to-face with Sam.

"I gotta kiss you..." he announced, catching me completely by surprise. It wasn't so much a request as it was a statement of his intentions. He followed through immediately with a quick bit of smooching right on my lips. And his mouth was hot... amazingly hot. His rough, sexy beard stimulated every nearby nerve-ending surrounding my own lips. I'd never been just passionately taken - actually more seized - by any man. I liked the feeling of being kissed so much I'd have shot my load on the spot if he'd kept it up another second more.

But he pulled back momentarily, and looked me in the eyes again grinning, "Boy, you are SO hot! We're gonna have us a great time! What do ya say... let's get out of here!"

I needed no encouragement. In the blink of an eye we emerged from the dark bar, squinting in the blinding afternoon sunshine.