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 16 - THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS
Sam paused long enough to unlock another door at the bottom of the stairway. It turned out to be a rear door to the gym. Initially I had trouble seeing much of anything in the dark room. As I stood there letting my eyes adjust, objects slowly became more visible. I realized the large room was lit somewhat by low-wattage security lights mounted around the perimeter. Meanwhile, Sam walked to the front of the gym and closed the big blinds covering the large plate glass windows. I guessed this was to insure some privacy. He grabbed a chair on his way back and set it down near one edge of a raised platform. As my eyes acclimated more, I saw the platform was uneven lengths of what looked like steel I-beams all pushed together forming roughly a 12' x 12' raised flat surface. Adjacent to this platform was a rack holding some regular-sized bars and assorted weights like you'd see in any gym. But there was another rack with unusually long and much thicker bars - and those were certainly nothing like I'd ever seen before. They were formidable, heavy-looking things even without any added weights. Scattered around the floor in various places were some absolutely gigantic iron plates stacked in piles of two's. They were all so massive they looked the same to me, but I surmised each paired set was probably of differing weight. This was BIG iron in every sense of the word, and it was obvious they were made to be used specifically with those unusually big bars.
"You can have a seat here, Pete," Sam said with a wink and patted the back of the chair, "and rest up! You're gonna need it, I think. I need to change into somethin' else. I'll only be a minute."
I sat down, not at all sure of what was going to happen next. Sam disappeared through a darkened doorway. I heard a locker door being opened, followed some moments later by the sound of it closing again.
Sam emerged from the doorway wearing a form-fitting Olympic-style weightlifter's one-piece singlet, held up by straps crossing over his shoulders from his immense chest to the back. It was one unusually hot-looking 'outfit,' too, especially with Sam wearing it. The dark-colored singlet stretched so tightly over his hulking physique it looked as if it was spray-painted onto his body. It would have revealed even the most minor physical defect in any normal man's body. But I saw none whatsoever, all the more astonishing for a dude as huge and heavy as Sam was. For all of his extreme mass, his physique was artistic sculpture - a fact his singlet now completely validated.
Sam was also wearing a thick leather belt cinched around his waist over the singlet accentuated the large, beautiful bulge in his crotch, making it stand out in rather bold relief. I'd already surmised Sam was very well hung - though more from what I'd felt in my hand before than actually seen since it was behind me. But the singlet now left no doubt he had one very hot package. As I gazed at him, the shape of Sam's body silhouetted in the dim lights looked outrageously sexy to me.
I started ogling Sam's bared legs. This was the first time I'd seen them really exposed. The lighting seemed to make them particularly stand out, and out-standing they were; real big attention-grabbers of the highest magnitude. His thighs were stunningly immense, each one without any doubt thicker than my torso. Prominent columns of muscle flared upward from each knee. As Sam slowly walked forward, I took a dry gulp as I marveled at the huge, swollen twisting striations in his thighs appearing and disappearing with each step. I noticed he also had a peculiar gait as he swung one massive thigh around the other. I'd never seen anything even remotely resembling Sam's leg muscles before, and being so turned-on by these two oak trees was an unexpected, thrilling surprise. As he stepped by me onto the platform, I wafted his sensual manly musk like a bloodhound. I swear I felt the floor trembling too as he passed by.
He stopped about 8 feet in front of me and turned around.
"There, Pete - this is more like it. It's comfortable - see, this here material stretches. Gives me some freedom to move when I'm liftin.'"
Sam said nothing more, and just stood there absolutely motionless, as if intentionally providing me this first chance to do nothing more than to leisurely look him over very thoroughly. And come to think about it, this was the first time I'd had the opportunity to stare and gawk openly at Sam's physique from head-to-toe. Until this moment I'd been very close - and often directly inside - his 'personal space' most of the time. Sam was way too much man to fully take in when I was that close to him. It was impossible to really get the 'big picture.' Previously, we'd been involved more-or-less in conversation, too. There were no other distractions now - no talking - no moving around or 'doings' of any kind - and I was at the perfect viewing distance to finally get the full, genuine visual impact of this man.
A big part of me screamed to do just that - to stare. But I had this long-standing 'rule' in my head about never looking at a guy for too long or letting them know I was staring. So I looked discretely, always keeping my eyes moving and never letting them linger. Partly, this was because it wasn't polite I'd been told - and partly because it didn't always feel particularly safe either. More recently, my newest life-lesson concerning 'staring' was that when I caught a guy's eye for too long, they'd seem to assume that also indicated I was automatically interested in them. But usually that wasn't the case - except for Sam, of course - because, God knows, I could have stared at him for hours, if not days.
But I started staring automatically anyway - really hard. I certainly wanted to. But after only a few seconds, I felt funny and I'd divert my eyes to something else. Then I'd let them wander back to Sam for a few seconds more. And then I'd find myself doing exactly the same thing again. I'd find myself looking at something across the room. This battle went on - back-and-forth - back-and-forth - for quite awhile. These bouncing eyeballs of mine had also not escaped Sam's attention.
Spreading his arms out wide with his palms facing me, Sam looked right at me and said, "Are you nervous about somethin'? Ain't nothing to be afraid of, really. Go ahead Pete. You can look at me. I think this is somethin' you need to kinda get out of your system anyway. It's really OK!"
"But I am looking at you, Sam," I said defensively, knowing it was technically correct but none-the-less only another half-truth at best. Of course even as I was saying this, I also automatically turned my eyes away from him again.
And when I looked back, Sam was looking down at the floor, seeming momentarily quite exasperated. Then he looked up at me.
"Peter, I LIKE you for Christ sake! And I thought you said ya liked me, too. There's something mighty strange goin' on here, I'm startin' to think. Pete, people stare at me all the time 'cause I'm different. They don't even know me, let alone like me. But believe me, they definitely ain't got NO problem lookin' at me - not at all. They outright gawk! And the funny thing is - it seems you like me, but you AIN'T lookin'! Not really, anyway. And I knows I like lookin' at you - a lot! Fact is, I can't barely take my eyes off of you, the truth be known. And you said ya liked muscles, right? Well, I got big muscles... and I'm real strong too, Pete. Really, I am! I knows I ain't bright, but I just don't get it. Not at all. Seems if ya really liked me, Pete, then you'd be tellin' me so with your eyes, that's all..."
Boom! There was an atomic explosion inside of me. Sam's words descended on me like a building collapsing on my head. I felt like a complete and total jerk - and a bit of a bastard, too. I needed to say something - and fast. I sensed if I did not, it would suddenly all be over - irreparably over. But I seemed to only be able to get words out of my mouth by talking to my feet again. God, I hated myself when I was like this! Moreover, it was also taking one giant step backwards for me. Nevertheless, I found myself doing it all over again - repeating the same behaviors whenever I'd felt this way before - talking to inanimate objects whenever I had 'big feelings' going on inside of me. But saying something was better than saying nothing at all. So addressing my left sneaker, I spoke honestly nevertheless, although my words came out painfully slowly.
"Sam, I like you - a lot. That's really the truth. And I want to look at you, too. Really, I do! You're whole body is amazing... and God, those muscles of yours are just... just... so unbelievably big. Honest, Sam... you're just... just the most handsome... the hottest... guy I've ever seen... and God can strike me dead if I'm lying...."
Strangely, my left sneaker remained mute, but after some long moments of silence, I heard Sam's voice.
"O.K. Then all ya have to do, Pete, is let the genie out of the bottle. I've got big muscles, and it all right if you wan'na look at 'em, too. It's OK that ya like 'em the way you do. Go ahead, Pete - look as long as ya want! Let go... let that 'ol genie out. I want 'cha to for me. So, you look up at me now, O.K.?"
I took a very deep breath, and then I pictured in my mind opening a bottle and seeing strange-colored vapors rushing up out of it, and then I repeated this several times more in my mind. Something seemed to fundamentally shift inside of me, and I thought I could trust my eyes to now more faithfully tell Sam everything I felt about him inside.
So I slowly looked up - and what I finally was able to truly 'see' was one hell of an eyeful, let me tell you. For me, it was the difference between watching Star Wars on TV versus seeing it at a movie theater. The full sensory impact of Sam's physique could only be experienced on my 'big screen.' I allowed myself to gawk openly. I gave myself permission to stare blatantly. And somewhere in the middle of ogling every part of him, I passed some point of no return. In fact, I wondered if I could ever stop staring! Sam must have certainly felt the heat from my lasers searing his skin as they scanned over every inch of him slowly, again and again. It didn't take a great deal of time before my continuous uninterrupted staring was making me feel flushed.
There were muscles everywhere I looked - massive and huge, rippling, powerful-looking things; some appearing and disappearing behind others it seemed. Sam hadn't lifted so much as a pencil yet, and I was turned-on powerfully, but I know Sam fundamentally understood that already. He knew what made my motor run, and he possessed it all - absolutely everything last attribute I was attracted to in a man. On a scale of 1 to 10, I rated Sam about 1,000. I like my men T-D-H. And no - I don't mean 'tall, dark and handsome,' although he certainly was all of those. I mean 'Totally-Developed Hunk.' And what I saw fit all the criteria multiple times over. Sam was more like a 'Titanically-Developed Hunk,' in truth.
My eyes didn't waiver, and I let Sam see right into me. And as I continued to stare at this outrageously muscled, brutally-handsome monster standing motionless before me, the image of Sam transformed clearly in my mind into the 'Samson' of the Bible, whose phenomenal strength was of divine origin, and who slew the entire Philistine Army single-handedly. And if not exactly like Delilah, I nevertheless craved to get into any of his gorgeous hair, too. Wherever it happened to be on his magnificent body, it was perfection too, and it greatly contributed to the overall stunning impact of this He-man. Every aspect of this man was hotter than Hell to me, and after visually gorging on him for only several minutes, I just 'wanted' him - plain and simple.
And Sam had been observing my reactions - watching me watching him. We hadn't spoken a word in minutes, but our communication was nevertheless honest, total and complete. With a whimsical grin, Sam finally broke the long silence.
"Hey- you ain't gettin' horny by any chance, are ya, Pete?"
Without waiting for an answer, he looked down and inspected his singlet with his hands, saying something about it needing a slight adjustment. He reached up with each hand and simultaneously pulled up on the shoulder straps, which effectively lifted the material at the sides of his crotch higher. This not only exposed more of his high upper thighs and the sides of his groin partially, but dramatically accentuated the plunge of his bulging basket and clearly revealed two substantial balls and his sexy thick wand through the now more tightly-stretched material. I knew the He-man was toying with me, but I didn't mind his intentionally erotic playfulness at all!
Looking right at me, he said, "There. That looks even better, don't you think? Hey, are ya getting horny yet, Pete? I sure hope ya are!"
Horny? You bet. But I was also feeling unusually sexy myself. I had this new 'attitude' going inside of my head as I reminded myself to enjoy this and 'let go.' I felt a kind of sensual power again - something I hadn't experienced in several years - and it felt really good.
And to capitalize on my unusual feelings, I gave myself permission to be a little playful, too. Besides, the entire scene - Sam's big muscles all poured into that sexy-beyond-belief bulging singlet - was arousing me uncontrollably anyway. Why waste this, I thought. I sure knew what pushed Sam's 'on' switch. Hell, I even had the right toy already - but there was no way he'd ever know that wearing my usual baggy jeans. So just how to 'communicate' this to him? Hmmmmm....
I reached for my crotch and slowly began squeezing and suggestively rubbing it with my hand, looking up at Sam and then back down to my crotch - saying with my eyes, "Right here Sam. Look right here." Then I slowly swung my leg out - the one containing my dick - exposing the inside for Sam's viewing pleasure. Then using my thumb and index finger of both hands, I pressed down on my jeans to clearly frame the perimeters of my cock in the leg, effectively demonstrating to Sam not only where it started and currently ended, but also its circumference: my gesture saying unequivocally, "Here's the whole enchilada." Looking up again, I saw Sam was riveted on my crotch - getting kinda glassy-eyed too - looking like he'd start drooling if I continued this much longer. B-I-N-G-O !
"Yeah, I'm real horny Sam. Can you tell?"
I kneaded my fat thing slowly with my fingers, just to make sure Sam was paying close attention.
"It feels to me like it's getting pretty big. Oh yes - definitely feels big! Hey, are you getting horny yet, Sam?"
I thought we were now even, judging from the expanding bulge in the front of his singlet.
"So Samson, I thought if I got big, you were going to get big, too."
Not that he had to grow one single centimeter anywhere to be the hottest man I'd ever seen, but you know - promises were promises, regardless.
"Woof! Woof!" Sam barked out like a dog repeatedly. "Pete, you're totally inspiring! Makes me wanna get extra-huge and then do somethin' real special -just for your birthday. Ya ready?"
Boy, was I ever. For the moment anyway, the genie was out of the bottle. I was determined to keep my eyes on him like a snowy owl would a lemming.
"My heart may not be able to stand it - but definitely go ahead anyway, Sam. I'll die at least with a smile... and this massive hard-on. Come to think of it, that might give the undertaker a real thrill with the rigor mortis and all."
Sam guffawed with seeming disgust at my awful sense of humor, and then got down to the serious business. I sat up and leaned forward enthusiastically. There was no saliva in my mouth. It had disappeared completely untold minutes ago. I sort of braced myself to see something I knew I'd probably never see again in my life. I was ready - focused - and going to savor every second of what was coming.
"Go ahead Sam. Enormou-size!"