Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00353 515 73 20
Needless to say that after our first, exciting encounter as fuck buddies, I was very keen to get another chance to explore the possibilities open to three big strong horny men, myself being the exception to the hairy category that Dan and “Big” occupied comfortably. As I approached 21 years of age my chest and belly were all but hairless, my back totally smooth except for a small area above the crack of my arse. My thighs had a coating of very fine hair that was hardly noticeable, calves and arms a little nearer to average masculine coverage but with fair to mousy fine hair on my head I guessed I’d grown as much of a pelt as I was going to by then. However much I build my bulk, I always regretted not getting a thick, masculine pelt of body hair.
With hindsight, all those boys who wanted to display their bodies in shows and competitions were obliged to wax or shave in the show season for it to grow back thicker than ever in the months afterwards.
My first objective was working out, but I was also a spectator in the gym, secretly enjoying the movement and proximity of muscle mass. I was never interested in attending shows and certainly not competing in them and from the very first I mourned the loss of body hair on these fabulously constructed men when they turned up to train in the gym just before a competition, shiny and smooth all over.
Whilst I was still obliged to use the facilities at peak times, I witnessed a few minor disagreements between one or two of the driven individuals who were competitors and rivals in local competitions. One who was often at the centre of these niggling conflicts, Bob, the very man I had stopped in the street who introduced me to the St.Mary’s gym by simply giving me the name when I asked where he trained.
He was a man with anger issues bubbling under the surface all the time, a surfeit of adrenaline and more testosterone than his share, he had what I think of as a mature physique. As developed as it was gonna get, he focussed on maintaining his bulk out of season and cutting to ribbons towards showtime. He was not what I think of as handsome and although he shaved for shows, his body was not really hairy at all. For all of the above reasons, I did what other users did and kept well out of his way, steering clear of those with whom he trained most of the time. These guys would get into snarling and bickering with one another about their use of equipment but it always looked far more fearsome than it was. Bob lifted big and aggressive, always had a buddy by him to spot, most of whom, younger versions of himself, lifting the same titanic poundage. One, however, stood out. Badger.
The two sometimes arrived together or left together but spoke as if only nominally acquainted. Badger would have been a very powerful man without the obsessive weight training he had done but he had become a mountain of a man. About six four and I’d guess 280 pounds, big boned with short, dark wavy hair and a dark 6 o’clock shadow permanently colouring his facial features. His complexion was Mediteranean, Greek or perhaps Armenian / Trans-Caucasian. A classic, strong, denseley knitted brow, a broad nose and sparkling, black- brown eyes.
I never knew his real name, his nickname was completely ubiquitous. He sometimes trained alone or with other big guys but most often, at night, I’d see him with Bob. I’d over hear them talking about contestants in shows, they would occasionally show one another poses they’d seen. I only ever saw Badger shaved once and then it was after the event by a few days and his colossal body was already stubbly all over with course, sharp bristles of the returning pelt. I tried to imagine feeling the coarse rasp of that surface against bare skin. A ripple of sensual pleasure shook me all over. Even the triceps were bristling with that re-growth. Within a couple of weeks his natural look was restored and I realised he must be clipping his thick mat of body hair every week to keep it so even. What a job!
When I changed back to afternoon work-outs, my occasional meetings with Dan and “Big” John had brought out a whole new dimension to my sessions at the gym. I’d see them sometimes weekly or fortnightly and we’d usually roll on back to their place to finish our afternoon workout together. Then, one session of legs, when Dan and John were on a different shift, Badger showed up in the afternoon, while I was working, warming up for squats. When he arrived, I’d only just started my first warmed up set at the first of the two big squat stands.
Badger took some time on the leg bicep machine, warming up, before setting up at the other squat stands and making some stretching and dummy squats. His massive chest and shoulders making the bar look small. He peeled off his sweat pants and flexed his darkly hirsute and enormously muscled legs. He nodded and acknowledgement to me in the mirrors as I settled my bar back into the stands and went to the rack for more weight. bahis firmaları Much to my surprise, he told me He’d seen me training in the evenings and I couldn’t imagine how he’d have noticed me, I’d thought I looked like a sparrow compared to that crowd. I told him I liked the quiet of afternoon workout and in return he said that he was taking his leg sessions into the afternoon because squats needed that extra focus.
It wasn’t exactly quiet, once he started piling on the weight. He bellowed and puffed his way through an impressive tonnage of lift that session. I couldn’t get anywhere near the weight he was pushing but we spotted for one another and once again I found myself learning loads from the man and getting way beyond my previous training limits. I was really grateful to him not to mention in total awe of his astonishing musculature and his handsome, swarthy masculinity.
I was ready to hit the shower and headed into the changing room, Badger picked up his bag and followed, still talking squats and technique and when we got to our lockers he was half out of his kit when he wanted to show me something about my posture (here we go- posture again) he’d already taken off his trainers and shorts and stood, with his great back towards me, facing a mirror on the back of the door, raised his arms as if supporting a bar for a front squat, a tremendously difficult exercise but hugely beneficial if you can master it. It wasn’t such a big room, so, seated by my locker his hairy muscle arse contrasted by the off white straps of his jock, were not so many inches from my sweating, over-excited face. I boned up immediately as that great backside dipped expertly towards the bottom of Badger’s perfect front squat. I focussed to see if the tiny pink pucker of his ring would become visible but the dense forest of hair covering his hole hid it from view. I sighed audibly.
He returned to the standing position, turned around and asked if I could understand more clearly and out of pure mischief I played dumb hoping he would repeat the move. I was thinking he’d squat me if he found out how fucking horny I had become at the site of his slow crouch and powerful ascent not to mention the heat from his body, the powerful rippling of his shoulders and upper back as they compensated and balanced his movement.
He had an idea. I should lie on the floor looking up so I’d get a clearer site of where his bodyweight lay during the exercise.
I could hardly believe it. I was required to lay on the floor, feet away from the mirror, looking up, with the great man straddling my head, his tanned, hairy feet set at roughly the width of my shoulders (so, sadly, well beyond the reach of my tongue). I gazed longingly up, at the miraculous pillars of Badgers legs and beyond towards the skyscraper back. I assumed he would show only the part of the movement he was seeking to explain and therefore only complete a half squat but down came that great, downy butt towards my astonished face. I was grateful he was facing away and couldn’t see my boner, tenting my shorts.
As I saw it’s approach, I raised my had so slightly so that my nose just touched the hair at the opening of the cleft between his fine buttocks. I exhaled to be sure he understood just how close he had brought his arse to my face. He returned to standing and I asked him if he wouldn’t mind just one more demo and without a word, down he came again and this time deliberately a full inch lower, my schnoz parked neatly in the rough hair and he held it there wordlessly as I breathed in and out before he stood once more. Without a hint of amusement he told me that he thought I was beginning to understand what it was he was trying to show me and like a good student I agreed, so this time as the meistro squatted again I put out my tongue and set it to work in his musky, woodland glade of an arse and found that precious pink target, hidden by the tangle of blackish brown hair.
He immediately rose and congratulated me and I shook his hand warmly, thanking him for his expert coaching, as if some important aspect of my qualification as a bona-fide body builder and horn dog had just been ratified. In the empty shower, a place I’d seen 20-30 people under the jets or waiting at busy times, the big man settled into the farthest corner and motioned to me to join him and although my cock had subsided before I did so, I was as hard as a rock at the sight of the rivers running through the that forested man-mountain hillside which beckoned me.
My sexuality has never been centred on the size of a man’s cock anyway but I guess I was a little surprised that this prime specimen had a smallish cock by proportion to his frame. in fairness, if his cock had been scaled up to equal the mass of say his deltoids or lats it would have been dragging on the floor. He more than made up for it in his masculinity absolutely everywhere else. Badger made it very obvious that he wanted me to deepen kaçak iddaa my understanding of his anal geography and I was even more interested to do so. Nervous as I was that another club mate might come through. It was my turn to crouch and with his mass shielding my shape from all but the most curious onlooker, I proceeded to part his magnificent cheeks and set to work slurping the running water, his body hair and his delicious pink cavity.
All be it brief, not wishing to arouse suspicion by prolonging our watery encounter, I came to my feet behind him and quickly wrapped my arms about his fabulous form, my rock hard dick up against his arse. He showed no alarm whatever and backed his cleft up over the head of my dick so it snuggled in that rainforest canyon nudging up against that lovely pink porthole, deep in the gorgeous gorge between his warm, furry buttocks. Never expecting to be admitted, I playfully rocked in and out until, suddenly, he lunged backwards and impaled his hole on my poor innocent hard on. Shocking. What could I do but concede to his will? I pressed my own pubic hair and my tingling nut-sack up against his furry cheeks as hard as I could, and felt the rush of heat from having my knob head throbbing inside this titan’s guts, before a noise from the changing room beyond required us to settle in different areas of the shower with our faces and our genitalia towards the wall.
Badger looked over towards me and winked, a massive grin breaking out over his usually serious face. His reached behind with his bar, soaped up his furry channel and proceeded to spread his cheeks towards me and with thick fingers either side, stretch open his hot funnel and allow the water to wash away the suds leaving little pinky hole winking at me through the spray.
The sound of two men next door subsided as they shut their lockers and moved off into the gym and I slipped back over to the big man. Standing behind him, I was completely obscured by his fantasy muscle man frame. His huge, hairy back ripple and bulged, the power and form of these ordinarily imperceptible groups of muscles were like an anatomy lesson. A gigantic valley between mountain ranges of hard-won muscles, my face, level with the Badger’s shoulder blades, nestling in that shelter, pouring spray down towards his thoraco-lumbar fascia opening out onto the magnificent globes of his gluteus maximus. A more “Maximus” I have never seen, nor held nor penetrated.
Once more he backed up onto my anxiously welcoming meat. and I felt his great power overwhelm my glans and slowly swallow my whole length. I didn’t really need more tactile excitement but he drew my arms around his massive lats to stroke and pet the fin-like wall up to his cavernous arm pits, across his pecs, I reached up to hook my fingers over those thick slabs and brought back my cock to the entrance of that hot cave mouth, teasing the head in and out of his body and luxuriating in the immensity of the moment. I was totally overcome by his proximity and his terrifying manliness. I felt his hole clench over my shaft, threatening to pinch the head right off as he spat a thick wad out into the swirling water, trickling towards the drain. That was too much for my aching balls and I pressed home, hanging on for dear life to that matt of wet body hair and my vision went blank, my brains shot out through my cock head and into the dark tunnel of Badger’s rectum and he laughed a rich, deep, quiet laugh as I spluttered and foundered in the torrent between the opposing ranges of his rhomboids and the more distant peaks of his colossal rear deltoids.
He pinned me back against the tiles milking the prod I had wedged into his body for all it was worth. His feet set wide to reduce his height advantage, I rocked my hips a little to prolong our friction and he began to purr like an enormous cat. I have never felt so happy, so warm or so safe as having been admitted into the orbit of that man and to land my exploratory craft there was simply astonishing good fortune.
I had no reason to expect anything more from this man with nothing to gain from our coupling but a squirt of best man-cum and everything to lose by way of his cred at the club but he drew me round, wrapped his great limbs around me in a bear hug, lifted my then 195 lbs corpse right off the tiles and kissed me so passionately I thought I was being digested and I tried my best, breathlessly, to kiss him back with equal force. It was a hopeless battle and when he allowed me to take my own body weight once more,
I looked up at his marvellous features as if adoring a god, exactly as I felt it then, I remember it now. He reached down and holding my head tenderly his bearded lips closed with mine and our tongues wrestled in the moist arena of our conjoined mouths. I had fallen hopelessly, pathetically, exhaustedly in love for the very first time. I had no past, no future just this enormous, wrenching, unselfconscious kiss. Imprisoned kaçak bahis by his omnipotent arms, clasped against rippling abdominal wall his lips and tongue making mincemeat of by emotions, my outstretched cock, undaunted, swinging between the twin bulwark of his gargantuan thighs. I dreamed of waking up here every morning, of making my home forever in his tender internal flesh, of protection from the cares of the world, wrapped up in this great warrior’s strong limbs, weaned on the fruits of his loins and he savouring the vitality of mine.
Without the slightest preconceptions, after all I could never have dreamed of making love in such a way with such a one, I had somehow come to this miraculous place and time and never wanted to leave. Realistically, any moment, another club user could just walk in, expecting a shower after all his hard work and find two bodybuilders, lovers by then, kissing in the spray.
I pulled away, he resisted but I motioned with my eyes towards the doorway to the changing area, and with a grim smile of acceptance he unwrapped me tenderly and patted my arse with a big paw, as if I were his pet. Obvious really. That’s what I was and I was bursting with admiration and pride and another gut full of cum as I gathered my towel to cover the cantilevered 8 inch cock that followed badger back into the changing room. As I marvelled as his nakedness move ahead of me a full head taller and shoulders casting shadows over me, half a man wider than I. My head spun at the concept of what I’d gotten into. I felt so much welling up inside me I wanted so to fuck him again and again on the floor of the changing room, in the vestibule outside, in the gym on the press bench, be absorbed into the massiveness of him, climb right inside him and have his orgasm crush me to him and squeeze every drop of my essence into that swaggering vessel.
I sat by my locker briefly, my towel heaped in my lap and watched him dry meticulously, every crevice and meadow of his expansive terrain. Astonished by simple movements you’d take for granted in other men. The towel would reach in and another bunch of muscle fibres would facilitate and compensate balance. He reached into the crevice of his arse to dry there as I watched. Another man was changing for a workout blissfully unaware of what passed between us as Badger brought the towel up to his face and drew in the aroma of our fuck in the shower as he looked over towards me with a twinkling eye over the top of the blue terry cotton. I finally shook myself loose out of my stupor and got dried and dressed myself.
“Better get a move on, kid.” rumbled Badger as he pulled on his street-side kit of joggers and a loose sweatshirt. Where did a man of his size find a loose fitting sweatshirt? But I realised then that the warmth that had kindled between us wasn’t about to be slapped away with a casual so-long at the kerb outside. He boldly stuffed his kit and towel into a holdall and with a secret wink called out “See you outside!” as he swung open the oversized church hall door and swept out without a look into the shop toward the exit, afternoon sunlight briefly streaming in from that area and then cut off again as it swung closed after him. I was all fingers and thumbs, somehow not expecting to be summoned to follow. Imagining, suddenly, that my fantastical illusions of being wanted around the man were just in my daydream as I relived his naked performance squatting on my face right where I and another club member now stood. I stuffed my own bag hurriedly and rushed out.
I didn’t have to look far outside. He leant up against one of the great stone gateposts which framed the main entrance to what had once been the old St.Mary’s. He was chewing on a nutrient bar and when he saw me emerge held a bulging fistful of them, as sold in the gym shop.
“Eat these!” he commanded, “You’ll be needing them.” as he threw me another sly wink and I sure did need them. He’d put me through the most strenuous leg routine I’d ever done and then required me to other exercise I had never in my wildest dreams could have taken place in any gym, least of all this most hallowed of macho venues.
“Where d’you park?” I asked, between bites of Nutri-bar, looking around for whatever kind of vehicle the big man used, maybe a builder’s van, like his training buddy, Bob.
“I walked.” he responded, with a jerk of his head indicating that I should follow and as my car was a hundred feet or so the opposite way, I set off after him carrying my own kit.
Across the street, down a side alley between two early modern industrial buildings in a shabby state and there, beyond them, a mere four minute walk from the gym, stood a two storey, flat roofed 1930’s printshop or so the faded sign said, with what looked like offices upstairs. Through a door next to the ground floor roller shutter which Badger locked again behind us and we stood in a brightly lit workspace where the stong sunshine streamed in. A timber rack, various power tools, a very large, vacant work table, bolts of fabric of different kinds and several fancy pieces of antique furniture, the smell of Jute and cotton, of French polish and beeswax.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00353 515 73 20