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 17 - REMEMBER THE TITANS

He waved in acknowledgement, and then bent down over a fearsomely heavy-looking barbell lying near him, lifting it off the floor as if it weighed nothing at all. That alone was instantaneously impressive. Then he turned to face me again.

Sam began to literally toss that barbell around, doing a nonstop, back-to-back series of different kinds of lifts, repeating each lift many times before he moved on to the next one. For his first lift, Sam started with the bar in from of his thighs, and pulled the loaded barbell up to his chest using his arms and lowered it down again. Then Sam switched his grip and, bending over horizontally, began pulling the bar up into his chest and then releasing it slowly back down again. Next he sat down on a nearby bench and, leaning back, began pushing the bar up off his chest until his arms were nearly straight and lowered it slowly back down to his chest. Next he stood up and, dropping the bar behind his head, raised the bar straight over his head and lowered it back behind his neck. Then resting the bar behind his neck across his shoulders, he changed his grip and squatted down to the floor and stood back up again. For his final lift, he stood tall and began pushing the bar straight-up over his head and then letting it back down to his shoulders. Each lift was breathtakingly awe-inspiring. That barbell was a very heavily-loaded mother, too - I'd seen the heavy bar sagging from the weights the very first time Sam lifted it. I could read the poundage printed on the side of the outside plate. After counting the number of plates on each side, I quickly calculated how much weight Samson had been lifting non-stop with such eye-popping ease for, I guessing, perhaps 15 minutes. I wasn't about to miss one moment by checking the clock on the gym wall. I was more than just impressed. I was astounded - and stiffer, certainly. Sam had been effortlessly lifting this weight for more than a quarter hour. I would not have been able to lift it cleanly even one time, and even then, only at the extreme risk of seriously injuring myself!

Sam finally set that particular barbell down, and he did so just as effortlessly as when he'd picked it up originally.

There was no sign of any sweat anywhere on him, and his breathing wasn't labored either, even after such a very long time of non-stop lifting. Overall, it appeared Sam had just expended the total energy needed to twist the top off a Bud. This guy really was in incredible shape. In a way I knew he just had to be, of course, but I guess seeing really is believing - suddenly Sam had become much more real, and therefore unreal to me both at the same time. And his strength - those big muscles of his! I was at the point of starting to get rock hard myself. 'Little Johann' had transformed into 'Johann, The Magnificent.'

I started clapping my hands and whooping and hollering and stamping my feet, all to show Sam just how much I'd enjoyed his lifting.

"Sam, that was u-n-b-e-l-i-e-v-a-b-l-e! I've never even seen anything like that... and you repeated them over-and-over again, just so many times! God, how'd you...."

"That's a rep, Pete. It's called a repetition," Sam interrupted, for my educational enlightenment.

"I mean WOW - you ARE strong! What a terrific birthday present! Really, that was the best EVER! Thanks!"

Sam looked genuinely very puzzled and confused for a few moments. Suddenly, he just buckled over with laughter.

"Oh, no. No... no... Pete..." Sam was gasping for air in between belly-laughs. "No, Pete. You mean that? What I was just doin'? That wasn't no LIFTIN,' Pete. That weren't LIFTIN' at all! I was just loosenin' up!!!"

Then Sam started roaring again, slapping those oak trees of his repeatedly. The guy was busting up! I'd just witnessed the hottest thing I'd ever seen. Damn - it sure LOOKED like deadly-serious lifting to me. Little Johann sure thought so. Well Sam sure thought this was extremely funny, but I was feeling foolish about feeling foolish, if you know what I mean. I didn't like being 'in the dark' about this still private joke.

After too long a time of genuinely enjoying himself seemingly at my expense, Sam finally slowly collected himself together... Well, sort of anyway....

"Now...." Sam started chuckling again but then quickly tried to check it, probably seeing from my expression I wasn't all-that-amused.

He composed himself for a few seconds, and then conquering his bad case of the giggles, was able to finish his thought.

"Now Pete - this HERE'S where you might want to sit up and pay attention."

Did Sam really think I'd been napping? I'd been watching him so intently I hadn't even blinked once for fear of missing even a millisecond. Moreover, my heart was already pounding to the point where I could hear it in my ears.

"This here part - what I'm gonna do now - this'll be your 1st birthday wish."

"My 1st wish, Sam?" I thought maybe there was a nuance here I'd missed before.

"Yeah, your 1st wish. I'm hopin' you're gonna make more of 'em tonight, 'cause I really want to... well... just remember- whatever ya want, Pete. All ya got'ta do is remember that genie," he winked.

Sam walked over to another rack which held very different bars than the kind he'd just used. These were very long and some seriously THICK pieces of solid steel - at least the size of those used for Olympic lifts, though for some reason I thought these bars were specially-made - and even larger. After looking over several possibilities, Sam finally selected one.

"These here," Sam said, eyeing and rubbing the bar almost fondly, "cost me lots of money. Must'a saved up for near' a whole year 'fore I could 'ford to buy these here babies. They's made 'o real TY-TANE-YUME, they is!"

He walked over and placed it across a low support stand which sat near the middle of the platform in front of me. He proceeded to load several pairs of those gigantic weights on both ends of that bar, collaring them all in place. This was genuine 'big iron' - the real McCoys - a size you wouldn't find even in a large commercial gym. It was the kind of massive weight which made me go weak in the knees just watching him mounting them.

He bent over the bar and lifted it slightly several times, gripping it in various locations as if carefully determining exactly where he wanted to place his hands. When he was satisfied, Sam moved his legs into a slightly wider stance and squatted over the barbell, gripping the bar with his palms facing forward. Slowly Samson started to straighten his knees. The huge barbell creaked and groaned eerily and as it slowly cleared its moorings. As he continued to lift it, the ends drooped dramatically as gravity tried desperately to pull the piles of massive weights back down to Earth. Almost straight-armed, Sam stood up completely, raising the huge barbell to his thighs.

I'm not sure why - maybe it was how holding such massive weight physically affects a heavily-muscled man's body - but seeing Samson just standing there, side-profile to me, made me feel a deep desire to cum. My sudden urge to touch myself was compelling. Sam was standing at nearly a 90 degree angle to me, absolutely straight and tall, with his shoulders thrown back to counter the great weight. His side-profile was wholly magnificent and fantastically hot. Sam's neck looked so thick, at least equally as wide as his head, and maybe more. Muscles swelled along the sides with a large vein tracing each edge. The tops of the muscles in his upper back anatomically originated near the base of his skull, well up the back of his neck. I don't think I'd ever consciously realized that before, probably because it isn't obvious on a normal man's body. Seeing Sam was like getting an instant anatomy lesson. Sam's upper back muscles were pronounced they flared out like the wings of the Concorde behind his neck; each wingtip being capped by a basketball-sized globe of muscle that formed his outer shoulder. But the single, most dominating feature from this particular angle anyway was definitively - Sam's chest. In fact, it was THE feature at the moment, for me. Mighty pectorals, looking every bit as thick as battleship armor, thrust out so remarkably they formed near hemispheres of muscle. Seen from the side, these projections of such great mass high on his body, combined with the bold contour around his entire thickly-muscled upper back, reminded me of a satellite photo of the South American continent. Sam's waist seemed to vanish beneath it all. If I thought my mouth had been dry before, it felt now more like the Sahara Desert at noon.

"Now this HERE is gonna be some liftin,' Pete!" Sam said emphatically, making sure I understood he hadn't really been lifting yet - at least by his definition anyway. "Hey, Pete - you just watch my bi's while I curl this 'ol thing. I'm gonna get me some BIG muscles now. It's party time, Pete! I'm real sorry I don't have no hats or noise-makers, but... I'm really hopin' ya like big presents...."

With that, Sam slowly pivoted with the huge barbell so he was facing me more directly. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back slightly, and then just stood silently for the longest time, still gripping the monstrous sagging barbell in his hands.

As more time passed, I thought to myself, "Gee, this sure is different." I even cleared my throat a couple of times while I patiently waited for something to happen- but nothing did, with the exception Sam's face seemed to be changing somehow. His countenance looked calmer and more relaxed - almost serene.

With his eyes still closed, Sam quietly spoke just a few more words. "This is for you, Pete...."

Then more time passed in total silence. Sam's eyes remained closed throughout. I even wondered briefly if he could possibly have fallen asleep. Whatever was going on here, I was completely clueless. So I just sat there waiting. After all, Sam knew what he was doing even if I did not, I figured. I'd have sat there for a week, in fact, waiting for Sam's lifting.

When Sam finally did open his eyes again, he did so very slowly. His eyes seemed different, but I was hard-pressed to say exactly how. His stare seemed to pass through me, as if I wasn't there at all - or he just wasn't really seeing me. His face had also become completely expressionless; his previously 'calm and serene' look has been replaced with something appearing to be just empty and vacant. Sam's breaths were slow and rather deep.

I was about to say something when I saw the large muscles in his big arms visibly tense as Samson made a deep 'Oooof'ing sound. The huge barbell moved slowly upwards. I knew he was doing yet another set of standing 'biceps curls' as he'd referred to this particular lift anyway - but now he was using this unimaginable-times heavier weight. Astonishingly, Sam nevertheless steadily pulled up the massive bar until it just brushed his protruding pectoral mounds. He held it there momentarily before slowly lowering it back down to near his thighs. Then with another 'Oooof' he started another repetition. By the third or fourth repetition, vascularity was becoming apparent everywhere in his torso, and to a lesser extent even his legs. I could clearly see veins even in those areas covered by his singlet. His breathing was deep and very steady. In fact everything about each repetition, so far anyway, was a perfect clone of the previous one. His fifth repetition with this staggering weight looked to me exactly like his first. Outside of the obvious veins and muscles which were erupting all over Sam's body, there was no other indication he was really straining - certainly not by his facial expression.

I was being instantly re-educated about just how unbelievably powerful Sam really was. I mean - the steel bar itself was just massively thick, and yet it still drooped so violently under the weight I thought it could possibly snap. This was a serious - absolutely stunning amount of weight, actually. I didn't know how many men in the entire world could even do what Sam was doing. At most, maybe a handful - maybe even less, I thought. It was just devastating to watch him. I was completely humbled and in totally awed - and Samson was pegging my gas peddle to the floorboard. The world could have ended and I wouldn't have noticed. This was one genuine, boner-fied HE MAN! Now THIS was SERIOUS STRENGTH!!

I remained hypnotically fixed as Sam astoundingly performed even more repetitions. The unmistakable loud clangs of the shifting massive 'big iron' plates quantified in my mind the brute strength commanding them to ignore gravity - and was doing so over and over again. Sam's form was perfect and remained absolutely unwavering. His facial expression remained unchanged as well - in short, he didn't have one. This may have been just an unimaginably intense focusing and concentration on Sam's part. "Yeah, that's got to be it... maybe," I thought. But even though Sam's face wasn't changing, absolutely unbelievable things were happening to his body.

Defying the possible, his already huge neck, shoulders and chest muscles were clearly becoming even more pronounced. I saw the impossible nevertheless happening to those very big arms of his with my own eyes. With every repetition, they were growing bigger. The mere sight of them was absolutely paralyzing. Sam's biceps were approaching such stunning dimensions in proportion to his other muscles they were the true champions ruling the moment; two perfect, spellbinding planets.

And Sam just continued to lift. 'Oooof.' More repetitions followed, each cycle being performed with such perfect rhythm you could have calibrated a metronome to it. I don't know if it's possible for a muscle to literally explode, but both of Samson's biceps were just phenomenally engorged monsters - which might have been Sam's own description of my cock at that moment, too, if he could have seen it. He didn't look like he was seeing anything, however. The skin over his biceps was stretching so thin it had a bluish transparency to it. I also noticed very small bright red-colored capillaries were beginning to appear as well, and I knew enough about medical biology to understand these were micro-hemorrhages - and their sudden appearance implied the capillaries were beginning to rupture from the internal pressure.

Sam's astounding physical capabilities seemed to be surpassing some threshold of what might be humanly possible, even for the huge and muscular man he was. His strength seemed - well - Samsonian. Certainly it was way beyond what I thought he might possess even considering his size. THIS power was truly fearsome.

I'd lost count of the number of repetitions, yet his lifts and his form both remained mechanically perfect. The man was a muscle-machine, and one with the horsepower of a six-story Earthmover. Sam was showing no discernible signs of fatigue nor any indication he was ever going to stop for that matter. Every centimeter of his bodying visually screamed out to me the near-tortuous force being applied both to and through it, yet Sam's face remained essentially expressionless, belying any indication of that whatsoever.

I mean - I already knew Sam was a real rare mountain-of-a-man, so it didn't surprise me particularly I hadn't ever seen anything like what Sam could apparently physically do before - but an unsettling feeling came over me as I wondered if anyone else had ever seen such a thing before either. My eyes were telling me conflicting things I couldn't quite make sense of. I could no longer reconcile everything I was seeing - and I was feeling a bit like Alice, after she's fallen through the looking glass.

But just as these vague concerns were starting to garner my increasing attention, Sam suddenly just stopped - stopped cold - with the bar lowered in the starting thigh-position. He stood there, silent and motionless, still holding on to the massive barbell - his face still expressionless - still that vacant stare. Then I saw him snap his head from side-to-side, just once.

"Sam?" I said, hoping to get some response from him. None was forthcoming. I waited in the silence for something to eventually happen, and finally it did. Sam blinked. And then I saw him blink again. Then again. He slowly tilted his head upward and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, holding them there for awhile. Then Sam returned his gaze on to me, but he seemed disoriented as if he was trying to get his bearings. Finally he tilted his head down and appeared to be looking over the massive, sagging barbell he still held with his powerful forearms - now thick with tentacles - in a vice-like grip. Suddenly, Sam just released his grip, sending the massive weight crashing thunderously to the floor and scaring me half out of my wits. I felt the reverberations as the massive iron recoiled and bounced ominously a few times. Then silence.

"Sam?" I thought he might have nodded his head slightly to acknowledge me, but I wasn't sure. He still said nothing. His facial expression still looked peculiarly blank. He seemed as if he was way off somewhere else. He slowly raised his extended arms in front of him slightly and looked at them both, as if he really wasn't quite sure what he was seeing. Given their current dimensions, it wasn't hard for me to understand why he might not recognize them immediately as necessarily human arms either. Sam slowly cocked his head to the right slightly and looked at his left arm for awhile. He rotated his arm slowly, looking at the all sides of his upper arm. Then he very slowly cocked his head in the other direction, repeating the same basic inspection of his other arm. He paused suddenly and then snapped his head hard again.

"Sam?" I repeated. The way he was acting was starting to weird me out. He casually glanced up at me momentarily, but then returned his gaze back to his arms, still not speaking. Well at least I knew Sam had heard me. He'd clearly responded to his name. I'm not sure he knew it was necessarily me. The look in his eyes was still funny, but at least his face had regained a little more expression. Sam was moving his brow, jaw and mouth a little, and I noticed other subtle, more natural movements occasionally in the rest of his body.

He appeared to still be extraordinarily interested in those incredible arms of his though, exploring every inch of them again with his eyes. He held them up in front of him and locked them out, fully-extended. The sight of them being so dramatically 'presented' made me immediately woozy. In this position, his biceps looked like they were actually set on top of his arms, as opposed to being a part of them. Two fire extinguishers of rock-hard muscle reached from his shoulders down to his elbows. Sam started to very slowly bend his forearms until his upper and lower arms formed roughly a 90 degree angle, partially flexing the stunning twin giants in his arms. Even only half-flexed, his biceps were absolute Titans, and still mushroomed up into beautiful quasi-domes. Sam was clearly checking out their fantastic size and shape, but the manner in which he looked at them was oddly casual, to the point of seeming detached. Again I noticed Sam pause, and then shake his head from side-to-side. Then he went right back to looking at his arms.

It seemed to me to be more like he was simply 'inspecting' them, as opposed to feeling any admiration or pride in their utter magnificence. In fact, Sam wasn't demonstrating any reactions at all to seeing his own erotic monsters. It appeared he wasn't having a conscious thought about much of anything. He'd just look at one arm and then the other, slowly flexing them repeatedly in front of himself. All the while this was going on, more discernible "body language" and overall movement was gradually returning again.

"Some pump," I thought I heard him mutter under his breath, but to me this was meaningless babble. Don't get me wrong - I was absolutely enthralled watching Sam more actively examine his muscles - something about this was oddly very hot. But increasingly, what I really wanted to see was some evidence of a little more significant brain activity. So I thought I'd try one more time to make contact with this very big alien being.

"Sam? Take me to your leader, Sam...."

Sam paused and shook his head hard from side-to-side several times again. And a few moments later, I did heard an "ahuh" come out of him, even as he resumed inspecting his two Goliath's again. But he was moving around more and generally acting livelier again.

"That's some pump... " Well, I heard those words clearly enough this time.

"SAM," I said loudly, resolutely determined to get some acknowledgement from him other than a grunt, even though a grunt from this He-Man was pretty hot stuff in itself.

"Hey there, big guy. Are you in there somewhere? Anybody home? Come out, come out, wherever you are!" There was still no particular reaction from him at all. "I don't think you even know who I am, Sam!"

The big lug just said, "Sure I do..." still looking dispassionately at his big battleships.

I had a strong urge to get right up off of that chair and punch him actually - I was suddenly feeling just that mad. I guess I just needed some recognition but wasn't getting much at all - and I was getting pissed now. But luckily for Sam, he saved himself from a ferocious attack from this Lilliputian Army recruit. Given the mass of muscle standing there in front of me, it would have been about as attention-getting as a volley of arrows released against a tank, anyway.

Sam - and no doubt sensing his extreme mortal danger I'm sure - raised his head and looked directly at me.

"Sure I do. You're Pete...."

Sam still seemed overly subdued to me - well, for Sam, that is. He sounded almost tranquilized, and I thought a hint of a far-away look still lingered in his eyes. He seemed... extra mellow... but at least he'd clearly acknowledged me and was beginning to interact.

Sam shook his head back-and-forth again, this time making a big 'raspberry sound' with his lips. Then he opened his eyes wide a few times, just like I do myself when I'm trying to be alert. Then Sam loosened up his hulking body by stretching a little - alternately bending his legs a few times, rolling his head slowly in a big circle, and finally shaking his arms out forcefully.

"And YOU, Pete - are the birthday boy," he said, suddenly looking directly at me with an imbecilic partial smile. His eyes were clearer and more focused. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Sam was definitely sounding and behaving more like his good 'ol self.

"So - Did I light your birthday candle, Pete?"

"Like a bonfire!" I replied, breaking into a broad grin. "You are AWESOME!"

A wide smile spread across his Sam's face, too. His whole face expressed genuine happiness. Then he tucked his chin towards his chest seductively and, keeping his eyes riveted right on me, began walking towards me. He took one very deliberate step at a time, closing the distance between us ever-so-dramatically slowly.

"I'm real strong, Pete. I got me some real big muscles now, I reckon...."

That was true enough, I thought, but Sam's tendency for understatement had also never been more extreme than it was at that very moment. As this gargantuan God slowly moved towards me, my heart started to race.

"Say Pete, I bet you're big as me now too, huh?" Samson said, taking another step closer. He glanced down at my crotch momentarily, and judging by how wide his eyes got, apparently answered his own question. I was grateful for that too, because certainly no words were going to be coming out of my mouth anytime in the foreseeable future. Lockjaw had set in permanently.

"Ya sure are," he continued, answering his own question. "That thing's a MONSTER! Ya make me so hot."

Sam took another very deliberate step.

What he'd said was true enough on both counts, too. After being wildly aroused for what felt like forever, the broad back of my fully-realized pant python was straining so hard to rise up through the top of my baggy pant leg, the material was floating in air clean off my knee. This was the kind of hard-on which usually embarrassed the hell out of me, but my engine Rpm's were red-lined. Sam also had bulging 'big meat' now of his own, prominently pushing at the bottom of his leather belt.

Sam took another step closer. I had to tilt my head upward slightly in order to see his face. Massy pectoral mountains, like twin bows of mighty ice breakers, projected proudly out in front of him. It seemed to me they would reach me steps ahead of the rest of his body.

"Pete, you can lose those jeans anytime now. I'd wanna see your huge meat. Show me I'm big enough for you...."

Without moving my eyes off Sam, I unzipped and, bridging off the chair seat on my neck, quickly pulled my jeans down below my butt to free my hopelessly confined prisoner. The whole expression on Sam's face changed into one of wonder as he watched spellbound my cock's steady rise to its full glory as it lifted dramatically skyward - standing high and mighty at last. I was allowing myself to be the proud poster boy for the "Be All That You Can Be" slogan, in terms of erections. It felt so very heavy, slowly weaving and bobbing there high between my thighs, looking like one-half of the St. Louis Arch, I thought it might just snap off of me. But I just sat there patiently and let myself be huge for Sam anyway. I was surely all he wanted me to be - and probably considerably more.

I understood in my own way what Sam needed now, and I would let him savor me unhurried for as long as he wanted, allowing him complete control over this duration. And he made me feel good actually - like I was sexy and hot. I don't know what Sam was actually feeling inside, but I know that, for him, it was powerful - and good - and likely even very necessary. His expression told me unquestionably that it was, for him, an extraordinarily gratifying experience. Sam just stood there looming over me and slowly played with himself with one of his big paws. As he worshipped my cock for a very, very long time. When he was finally satisfied for the moment, he glanced up at me and simply said, "I must'a died, 'cause I'm in Heaven now."

Then he took another step forward again and knelt down in front of me.

"That there's really... well... the most magnificent thing I've ever seen in 'ma whole life. Thanks, Pete."

He paused for a few seconds, and then spoke again. "Now I wanna do something special, just for you. I'm mighty big, too... See?"

Matter-of-factly, Sam reached up and grabbed the shoulder straps of his singlet. In unison, he pulled them out across the wide plains of shoulder and then around the outsides of the two boulders marking their ends, and in one motion, peeled the singlet down to his leather belt, leaving the straps dangling by the outsides of his tree-sized thighs.

Sam understood implicitly what I needed, too. What immediately followed was far more than merely 'eine Augenweide' - a feast for the eyes. For me anyway, seas parted and worlds collided. What I saw and also felt inside were so powerful it's indelibly burned into my mind until my last breath on Earth.

He raised his utterly-pumped massive arms slowly from his sides, fully-extended, until they were just above the level of his massive eagle wings, and then he just held them there for awhile - these two inhumanly engorged, perfect huge cylinders of granite which lay atop each arm - for me to just look at them, absorbing their full erotic impact. He let me bask in my own wild erotic energies. To feel the nuances of desire and the craving and wanting and lust. He held them there just as long as I needed. And somehow he was so in tune with my soul - he was reading me so well - he just knew when it was time.

In a dramatically slow movement, Sam brought his fists up towards his head, and purposefully created - just for me - one of the most erotically intense, spiritual moments of my life. His deeply-veined mighty and powerful Titans rose steadily upward, slowly transforming from huge horizontal cylinders into wrenching fully-flexed absolutely global Gods standing high in the heavens - two perfectly split biceps, each larger than a ten pin bowling ball, just kissed his thickly-roped forearms. My arousal was so profound - so total - that I reached for the very first time that mystical point where agony and ecstasy are both one - and I know I ached deep inside. Ached like never in my life - and it was, at once, also wondrous beyond description. And I just sat there and looked - then looked more - looked at, what for me was, penultimate masculine Beauty. And I ate of him magnificence - I ingested him - I consumed him totally - in a Holy Communion.

If I had even thought about touching my cock, I would have exploded on the spot. But the power of this arousal - the intensity of this erotic energy - was so great I was somewhere beyond being capable of independent thought. Like Sam before me, I too had found Heaven.

Then I heard a deep, masculine voice speaking from somewhere off in the distance.

"I want 'cha to feel 'em, Pete... feel 'em all over. They's REAL big. Go ahead now... It's O.K."

I sat there absolutely motionless, well beyond the capacity to exercise any conscious control over my body.

Sam lowered one arm and moved forward, walking on his knees, and pushed my own aside as he positioned his body between them. Taking me gently by my wrist in his hand, he lifted my arm upward. Then placing my hand on the very summit of his flexed Titan, he released it as he resumed a full flex with his other arm, and returned his total attention to my swaying cobra.

Like a tree gently bowing in the breeze, I could feel my cockhead occasionally touching Sam's abdomen now, sometimes just brushing the hairs of the sensual love trail running up the centerline of his stomach, and at other times patting his deeply corrugated washboards.

My other hand seemed to automatically find its way to the summit of Sam's other biceps, and I started to actually feel what, up to this point, I had only been seeing. My hands slowly orbited like moons all around the twin Jupiter's high up before me. Had I been more mature, I might have actually wept with joy actually - without any shame at all.

I heard his distant-sounding low voice again.

"Happy Birthday, Pete. Time to make a wish, and blow out your huge candle. It's O.K... Go ahead now...."

Well, my wish had already come true, a thousand times over in fact. The very second Sam's words penetrated, my eyes slammed shut. My balls yanked up so violently into me I bellowed, then involuntarily pulled down, lifting myself right off of the chair using Sam's massive Titans for handholds. I blew my candle out alright - hard - like a wide-opened unmanned high-pressure fire hose. The first and second volleys passed far above his head and over one of his shoulders. Sam moaned with that kind approval only a real man can have. The third caught him squarely in his face. Uncounted others randomly coated the shelves of his massive pec mountains, drizzling over them like frosting on a Bunt cake. And minutes later when I'd finally emptied my tanks to the very bottom, big gobs of cum randomly clung to the deep ridges and hairs all over his stomach.

Dazed, I opened my eyes and began surveying the damage before realizing my hands were still firmly mounted on Sam's mighty Titans, and Sam was, in fact, still moaning even louder. Glancing up, I saw Sam's eyes were closed and his head was tilted far back. Then I looked down at the crotch of his singlet, and immediately saw the large dark area of wetness in Sam's ample basket, and also noticed his love batter beginning to leak out past the elastic around his balls. As his hot moans continued, streams of cum started flowing, following the contours of the large muscles on the insides of his huge thighs. "Man, can this big bruiser really CUM!" I thought to myself. "What a total stud!!" Then completely to my surprise, my still rock-hard rocket fired off not just one, but two encore salutes, seconding that emotion.

Eventually Sam too opened his eyes, and like I had done myself, he looked around somewhat dazed for awhile just eyeing the carnage around us. After completing his survey, he returned his attention to me and broke into the biggest grin I've ever seen on a man in my life, silently mouthing the word, "W-O-W!!" to me.

"You're INCREDIBLE, Pete! Look at all this great protein! Boy, I think I needs me a shower. I means - another shower! So, what'd ya think? Am I big enough for you?"

"No way." I came back with, just being a wisecrack. "I was a little disappointed, actually."

Sam looked a bit maybe - confused - momentarily, then he just stood up to his full height suddenly. The look which came over Sam's face gave me a bone-cold chill. His expression went from to confused - to serious - to angry - to just something suddenly really ugly and very mean. It was more than scary. When someone the size of this monster looks mean, it's instantly damn terrifying - and Sam suddenly looked seriously threatening and dangerous. This had all happened so fast I was dumbfounded. My mind raced. No one knew where I was, and there was absolutely no one around to even hear me if I decided to holler my brains out.

I was about to tell him I'd just been kidding with him - but before I could even get the words out of my mouth, Sam suddenly reached out and grabbed my head between his giant-sized hand - and I mean hard, too! Believe me when I say he had my immediate 100% attention. This guy's hands had every inch of my entire skull covered totally in a vice grip. The picture of Sam pulverizing my skull like a squash with my brains literally all over his hands flashed instantly through my mind - and this brute had the more than enough strength to certainly do that easily. My life was going to be over in the next few seconds. Completely stunned, I froze like an animal.

"Well, I guess I'm gonna have to just..." he started to say, with a meanness in his voice that would strike fear into anyone - and I braced myself for what was coming next. "...just kiss ya anyway, Pete."

When I popped open my eyes, Sam was wearing an ear-to-ear shit-eating grin. Then tilting my head up with his hands to meet his face, Sam bent over and planted a kiss on me that belonged in the Guinness World of Records - and left me quivering like a bowl of jell-o.

Eventually, Sam slowly backed away and crouched down on his haunches. He cocked his head, then smirked, "And you's - a big liar, too, Pete," which he followed up with a knowing wink.

This time I grinned broadly in acknowledgement - just in case....

"So Pete- does ya think I's real strong? Does I qualify?"

Strong? I immediately thought about Samson and that monstrous barbell, and I wanted to ask him just how much it really weighed. I knew just by its size alone it was extraordinarily heavy. But the concussion when it crashed and bounced on the floor was deafening. The terrific shock wave passing through the building's structure rattled the fillings in my teeth. The thing was just fearsomely massive! So did he qualify as a strongman? Beyond any doubt. But the truth was I didn't even know how to describe THAT kind of physical strength in words. The dude is a monster certainly, but still... I thought momentarily if I should ask him to explain 'a few things' to me. Granted, I didn't know jack-squat about weightlifting, but what I'd witnessed left me disconcertingly now with only questions without any plausible answers.

But as I pondered these things, my eyes were also basking in the vision of a Hercules in-the-flesh stripped to the waist still crouched down before me. Suddenly my questions didn't seem all that important anymore. This man was hotter than the surface of the sun! Uncharacteristically, I impulsively revealed to Sam exactly what I was feeling inside of me at that moment by both my words and actions.

"You're the strongest man I've ever known," I simply said, and left it at that.

Moving off the chair, I closed the distance between us and - kissed him! For me to take the initiating role was something totally new. And in the process of enthusiastically 'planting a big one' on Sam, I pretty much wiped my cum clean off his upper body with my sweatshirt. God, what a huge set of projecting boat bumpers that man possessed!

Sam kept looking into my eyes long after that kiss finally ended, tilting his head occasionally from side-to-side and stroking my hair and head gently again with his big paws. Tingles were running all through me. The way he touched me felt wonderful and the way he looked at me felt even more special. Sam seemed to really enjoy me. That was coming through to me loud-and-clear. As for me, well - I knew I could never tire of looking at Samson, this brutally handsome man with absolutely the biggest qualifications I'd ever seen anywhere - or would ever see.

Then Sam straightened up and said, "Well, I don't know 'bout you, Pete, but I know's I'm mighty hungry. I ain't eaten in 'near 4 whole hours, I reckon. I'm near starvation! I need me some FUEL!! What do ya say I fixes us some grub?"

"That'd be great, Sam. I'm hungry - I could definitely stand something to eat, too," I said, rubbing my stomach. "Can I help you?"

Shaking his head emphatically, Sam replied, "No. Absolutely not. There's no way I could tolerate that. There's here's your birthday, Pete." Then he added, with a devilish grin, "Then after we's done eatin,' maybe you'd be wantin' to open another present? I sure hopes so, 'cause I been savin' the best. Somethin' extra-special! I'm real strong, Pete. I've got big muscles...."

I nodded my head in total agreement, and then I decided to correct Sam on just one not-so-little point.

"But you're wrong about just one thing, Sam. You don't have big muscles... you've got the bigg-EST muscles!"

Sam turned his head away slightly, smiling bashfully. Moments later, I saw his whole face slowly breaking out in a prominent red blush.

"Ah... I think I needs to grab me just a quick shower first...."