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) 2002 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 31 - BUSHWHACKED
Sam wrapped his big arms around me and then leaned slowly back onto the bed, raising his legs as he pulled my body up between them until I was laying on his chest with my cock still firmly implanted within him. I immediately felt the length of his own beautiful, beefy manhood pressing along my abdomen between us, still surprisingly very aroused. Sam embraced me in a kiss that conveyed the most extraordinary feelings - passion, utter tenderness, gritty lust - a kiss of such exquisite sweetness that I felt... gulp... loved. Uncontrollably, my hips began bucking again. I was in every sense 'dicke Eier haben,' meaning I was excessively horny, but literally 'to have big nuts.' I had it more than covered either way. And as for the nuts, well they were full unto runneth-ing over.
Sam whispered softly in my ear, "Just try to holdin' still and not movin', Pete, OK? I promised I'd make ya cum, and I really wanna - all my myself."
Sam moved his arms so the back of his head rested on his palms. Then one at a time, he reached for my hands, alternately placing one on top of each of his great biceps.
"Pete, just keep your big pals Rocky and Bullwinkle here good company for awhile," he said affectionately, "and I'll do the rest...."
He summoned up his fantastic Titans for me, fully-framing his head with two great flexed cannonballs of muscle like an impossibly masculine halo.
Ask Sam had asked, I tried to lay there quietly on top of him, resting my head on his chest, even as my body cooked in a veritable boiling ocean of my own testosterone. My head whirled around in some timeless sexual cosmos as my hands endlessly orbited his twin Jupiters.
I was gurgling almost incoherently, "They're so hard... so fuckin' big...."
Sam regarded me tenderly, savoring this ultimate 'muscle' sacrament and the implicit sacredness of this special moment for awhile - then laid his head down on the pillow and closed his eyes. Some seconds later, he delivered his promise - and also changed my reality forever.
One simply cannot understand, at least empathetically, what one hasn't personally experienced. Sam has remarkable and unique abilities. Some of his gifts I still can't explain fully to this day, though in time I eventually understood more about them. But from the moment that Sam closed his eyes to the moment I reached orgasm, probably only a matter of seconds passed. My feeble attempt to describe my climatic event will take far longer than the actual event itself.
After Sam closed his eyes, I felt my cock being snugly embraced by Sam's hot love-hole. Then the mind-blowing pulsation's began, slowly at first. The feeling was so incredible and immediately pleasurable that I choked with surprise - and then groaned gutturally. I knew then that pumpkin-poking would never be the same again. These muscular contractions were divinely sensual and arousing. The sensation at first was like erotic fingers deftly fondling my cock, but the pulses rapidly quickened, creating almost dual sensations at once.
A fluttering sensation enveloped my cock, as if the soft beating wings of humming birds were caressing its entire length. At the same time it also felt as if discrete warm, wet, muscular tongues were licking every inch of it. To a man's penis, there could be nothing more arousing - no greater pleasure possible in the entire world - than what I felt at that moment. I'd reached penile Nirvana. And it was through this belief-suspending display of ultimate muscular control that Sam also finally revealed his true identity to me. Here is Eros - the Greek God of Love.
I gasped loudly several times as my body went rigid. My sexual arousal was so immediate - the stimulation so total - that my hips involuntarily bucked into him once - maybe twice at the most - before my big baby carriages yanked up inside so violently that I thought I might have herniated. A millisecond later my balls exploded, causing me to let out a wail that must have been heard in the next town over. This bulge of jism roared through my cock as I delivered my first load deeply inside Sam's torrid fuck hole. Tears filled my eyes. It was like forcing a pint of scalding cum through my penis in just that one, prolonged shot. A slight tremor moved through Sam's body when he detected the first recoil of my big bazooka inside of him. Wildly excited himself, Sam arched up on his neck and moaned deeply, then wrapped his calves around behind my buttocks, pulling me even deeper into his fuck chute from behind. And from that moment on, the two of us were interlocked in an orgasmic feeding frenzy - a chain reaction that, once unleashed, much run it's course.
Our respiration rates both soared as we mutually pummeled each other. Sam continued fellatiating my cock with his magically tongued hole. Those powerful sensations in turn kept my cum-pumper fully-engaged in making forceful regular deposits deep into his love vault. The huge relentless recoiling he felt inside aroused him more, commanding his anal love-muscles to keep on working their special magic on me even as his own just-spent cock dug into my belly.
Sam's deep moans only grew louder as my unrelenting barrage continued. He raised his head, looking at me with evermore wide-eyed incredulity. I don't think he'd ever experienced a sustained orgasm in my league before.
As for myself - I don't think my cum-hydrant had ever been opened wider. His large-capacity storm drain was audibly struggling to handle the sudden unexpected flood. My pounding meat was making squishing sounds like a plunger in a bowl as I unleashed a torrent approaching biblical proportions in Sam's ass. His eyebrows popped as he began leaking like a sieve - another first! The monumental back-flow sprayed back all over my own balls and groin, thoroughly soaking the bed, as I continued draining my sperm barrels to the very last drop.
When I was finally done, Sam quickly surveyed the disaster scene with a very satisfied - and astonished - smile.
"I can see now why rubbers is a waste of money. I'd be better off investin' in a LIFE JACKET! You got me soooo hot, Pete, I gotta...."
Sam never finished his thought. Instead, he folded his arms over me and pulled my body tightly against his. A deep moan followed and his body tensed briefly underneath me. Moments later, I felt the unmistakable prolonged rhythmic pulsing of his sex against my stomach and the hot flood of his own cum pool between our abdomens. Sam's long sigh signaled his deepest and profound pleasure as he began to gently rub my whole body sensually around on top of his slowly. My skin glided easily, lubricated by the lake of semen between us. Cum-surfing with a guy was a brand-new experience for me, and the sensations so arousingly sexy that my cock, still buried deep inside of him, started randomly firing again like a drunken cowboy, though by this time I was fairly certain that I was only firing blanks.
Feeling my still sporadic gunfire, Sam squeezed me affectionately and savored the feeling of sliding my body around on top of his.
"I ain't accustomed to sleepin' with a semen glaze, really I'm not. WOOF - this feels sexy...."
I snuggled down on top of him and patiently waited for my cannonade to finally fall silent. Well, I tried to hold him as best I could but clearly Sam, by virtue of his size, was doing most of the holding. I mostly clung on.
As we lingered there in prolonged post-coital cum-drenched slithering embrace, he slowly twisted my hair in his fingers and stroked my head; fast becoming a favored habit of his.
"Hey, Pete?" I heard him say.
"Ahuh," I replied lazily, not lifting my head from his chest.
"I want ya to know somethin'."
"Yeah?" I said, raising my head to look at him. "What, Sam?"
"I can feel it...."
But this time I knew he wasn't referring to my re-inflating Hindenburg still parked deep in his hangar. Sam gazed hesitantly into my eyes, his shimmering with a profound kindness. Then I heard 'the word.'
"I loves ya, Pete - I just does....."
It was a clean - straightforward - forthright statement. There was no hesitation; no vaguely beating around the bush. Not 'I think I love you.' Not 'I might love you.' And I knew that Sam meant it the very first time he ever spoke the words. I've never been so sure of anything else in my life.
I smiled back at him warmly for what seemed an eternity. I probably provided my own light, in fact. But I never said a single word back to him in return, eventually turning and resting my head down on his big chest pillows again. And that was perfectly OK with Sam. He accepted my response, or in this case lack thereof, without protest. Looking back at that moment now, I think it was quite remarkable on his part, actually. He didn't have a need to hear any reciprocity from me, though I'm sure that would have certainly pleased him very deeply. But he just let it go. I've since apologized to him for my shortcomings that night. He'd simply needed to tell me how he felt. He took the risk that countless others never dare. I now am just beginning to understand that to open one's heart in that way is an act of the most incredible, selfless bravery imaginable.
If you might be wondering how I really felt inside at that very moment - well, a part of me felt... wonderful joy. You might say he'd swept me totally off my feet - literally, several times already that night. And I also felt a whole lot scared... terrified of my own great, confusing feelings for Sam. But did I know I loved him, right then and there? Oh, yes - more than you could ever know - and that was precisely what terrified me. Oh, in time I eventually said 'Ich liebe Dich.' That felt less threatening to me when I first said it to him - Sam had no idea what I was saying, of course. But when I was absolutely ready, I found the courage to say the 'magic words' to him in English, too. I think Sam somehow knew what I felt all along anyway. He never tried to extract it from me either - and I love him for that reason, as well.
So my birthday celebration went on all that night, and I would, indeed, learn many new things. I would learn that Sam's appetite and stamina for sex was as insatiable as my own. I'd learn what getting a real blow job was like for the very first time, though how he ever managed it... well... I'll leave that for another time perhaps. Let me just say for now that he hadn't yet revealed to me all of his unusual 'talents,' impossible as that may sound. And although I didn't get down there often - making that long trip nearly required packing a lunch - I'd discover that if I tickled his feet, the mighty muscle-bound ox could be rendered absolutely powerless, squealing like a little epileptic piglet - an Achille's Foot, so to speak, I would devilishly exploit to 'reason with him' in the future.
But that night, we got no sleep at all. Sam was determined to teach me everything a man should know about sex as well as everything I could possibly do with my cock - and my tongue - all in a single night it seemed - things that I'd never even dreamed.
As a sex education coach and mentor, Sam was absolutely unparalleled. My education was as intensive as it was comprehensive. I doubt he'd ever had a more willing and capable protegee. He admitted later that he'd just gotten even more horny as the night progressed - that having sex with me unexplainably increased his already overly-healthy libido. I'd say we went at it almost non-stop, except for an occasional break. Me - I had to pee a lot. Sam - he always had to eat a lot, as I would learn quickly enough.
And by the time morning finally dawned, he'd even taught me all about 'blue-balls,' though that misfortune was unintentional. I'd never felt such excruciating pain in my life. It was worst than getting kicked in my groin by our buggy horse once. Gratefully, Sam also knew exactly how to cure a bad case of blue-balls almost instantly, but his holding those hot compresses on my big nuts with his hand, while well-intentioned, somehow only seemed to make matters initially worse. I finally suggested he go raid the refrigerator again while I held the hot towels to my own balls for awhile. I think I might have hurt his feelings a little, but I just needed him well out of my sights temporarily to cool my sexual ardor. The man was just TOO hot, and being turned-on was definitely not what I needed at that moment. My 'alternative' method worked nicely - and quickly too, thankfully.
That night was the beginning of something miraculous for me - something that would mark a turning point and a brand new and wonderful experience in my life. You could say that many seeds were scattered that night. A few found fertile soil and germinated, eventually becoming exquisite blooms of breathtaking beauty - and the rarest and most special one among them was Love. And the rest, we discovered could be unceremoniously expelled from Sam's asshole by occasionally pressing down on his lower abdomen whenever it started to get a little puffy. A mattress was also added to the growing list of casualties that night.
My cum became Sam's new and most-desired 'high-protein shake' that night. He swears by it to this very day, claiming if I ever marketed the stuff, I'd put every GNC supplement immediately out of business. Frankly, I think he's just got weird taste buds - or he's habituated. But still, whenever I happened to be in the apartment around noontime studying, he'd come upstairs from the gym and have me for lunch for a quick pick-me-up... sometimes literally. Sam liked to sneak up and grab me under my armpits from behind, then hoist me up to the ceiling in front of him, hold me there while undoing my jeans and pulling down my underwear with his mouth - and that stunt alone always conveniently primed me with a big waiting fatty. With my hands stroking his suspending arms, he'd just chow down, draining me like he was downing a bottle of Gatorade.
Ah, yes - those were the proverbial good ol' days. But savoring them only brought into higher relief the most recent events; events that I was trying to desperately avoid. These definitely were the bad new days. My vivid memories of the rest of that night seemed to fade against the backdrop of the more pressing immediate problems. I would have given my nuts - which it might surprise you to know I'd eventually grown to actually value - to have been able at that moment to stay lost in my old memories, denying entirely the reality unfolding around me; a reality that terrified me to the very bone. My mind tried to grab onto another fond memory out of my mental photo album, but already they were breaking up. Those old memories seemed so distant - so far away - and so very long ago....