Tall Tale, Part 5

[Reeza]

Tall Tale
Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4

Okay, it’s time for some explanations:

TALL TALE, Part 5
by Reeza

Damn, this phone is hurting my ear! How long have I been talking? Jeez, I have to get some sleep one of these days. No, I’ll finish telling it. I need to finish it.

So Paul tells me he’s gay! After all that! Can you believe it? What do you mean? What hints? No fucking way! I am not "clueless." But it’s weird you would think that, because that’s pretty much what he said.

So he put his hand out to shake mine, as if we just met, and he’s got this goofy grin on his face.

Well . . . I didn’t trust him. Not after all that. I just took a couple of steps backwards.

"What? You’re not going to shake my hand? Come on! I was just fucking with you, Greg!"

"Fucking with me? You got that right!" I was starting to feel angry, but I still wanted to cry. I remember the kids I used to pick on when we were young. Now I think I know how they felt. But I’m almost 30, and this guy is . . . maybe . . . I couldn’t tell how old he was, but he’s younger than me. Shit!

"Greg! Seriously! It didn’t have to go this way. We could have started off nice and friendly, but you had to give me that attitude. And then when you started denying you were gay and making excuses for your woody . . . well, that just pissed me off! Why does a guy like you have to pretend you’re straight? That shit really annoys me!"

"What?! How was I supposed to know you were gay! The way you look?"

"Oh, now you’re going to tell me I don’t look gay, right?" He folded his huge arms across his chest, lifting his massive pecs a little. "What does gay look like, Greg? Do you look gay?"

He had me there. Most people don’t suspect. That’s why I can keep it to myself. I faltered. "Well . . . I didn’t know . . . but, then, how did you know I was gay?"

"Your dick kind of gave it away, Greg."

"I told you, I don’t know why that happened!"

He rolled his eyes. "Don’t start that again."

"I mean, I know why it happened, but . . . well look at you! You had that big horse dick out . . . standing there . . . rubbing your stomach!"

He smiled. "You mean like this?" He ran his hand over those beautiful abs again. Patted the hard bricks. "Couldn’t you tell I was hitting on you, Greg."

Needless to say, I was taken aback by this. "Hitting on me . . . you . . . hitting on me."

"What are you . . . dense or something? You’re a hot guy. I was hitting on you. How many guys talk at the urinals?"

"I hate that!"

"Yeah, so you said! I just came in to take a piss, you were there, I liked what I saw and I thought I’d go for it. So I started chatting you up! And, I wanted to warn you about the piss I was taking. You were kind of an asshole about it, Greg. At least until you got a good look at me." Smirking.

I was dumbfounded. He was hitting on me. A guy like that? I looked at him, standing there in his snug boxer briefs, big bulge in front, hands on his hips again. Damn, what a sight! Broad, thick shoulders. Hugely tapered upper body. So fucking big! His legs were big too, but not like a bodybuilder’s. Defined muscle, well proportioned, deeply tanned, and covered with just the right amount of blonde hair.

"So, don’t you want to know about me, Greg? You must have questions. I’m huge, right? And you like that?"

Now I’m curious, but still cautious. "Yeah . . . yeah. What are you on, man? I mean Paul."

"Oh, it’s not what you’re thinking. You think I’m on some kind of juice, right? You think steroids could give me all this?" He lifted his arms into a double biceps flex. Oh, God! Unbelievable! He didn’t hold it for long, but I became aware of my dick again. "No, Greg, believe it or not, this is all natural."

"Come on! Nobody can get that big . . . "

"I can." Just stating a fact.

He pulled his shoulders back, pushing his pectorals forward, stretching. "You see, Greg: I have what you would call a really good metabolism. An un-fucking believable metabolism."

"Okay . . . I don’t get it." I could have figured this out on my own!

"I’m not surprised. I didn’t get it at first either. You see . . . when I was a kid I could eat anything I wanted to and I never gained weight."

"Yeah. Me too. So what? I still have that." It’s true. That’s what helps me keep the weight off, even at my age, you know?

"But when I got to be around 14, I started to gain."

"You got fat?" This was hard to believe, looking at him now. Rock hard, lean muscle. Everywhere.

"No, Greg . . . I didn’t get fat. No matter what I ate or how much, my body never gained fat, at least no more than it needed to function." Stroking his abs again. "All I gained was muscle. And mass. And height, of course, as I got older."

"Huh?" Come on! "What kind of workouts were you doing? You must have started lifting pretty young. Doing lots of cardio to keep the fat off? Were you in sports?"

"This is the part you’re going to hate, Greg. I never worked out much. Not for long. Never played sports much, either; they didn’t let me. I did some running when I had to, and working on the farm burned off a lot of calories. But no . . . no lifting. Not for bodybuilding, I mean."

I stared at him in disbelief. The look on his face was hard to read. There was a little bit of a smile, like he was enjoying what he was telling me. But there was something else, too. He was sort of hesitant, waiting to see my reaction. Unfolding his story slowly.

"It’s like this, Greg. I like to eat. I have a huge appetite. So I eat whatever, whenever I want. If I eat more than I need to maintain my body, then I . . . sort of . . . decide where to put it. If I decide to get bigger, then I can get bigger. Wherever, you know? If I don’t want to get bigger, then I . . . I just store the extra energy in my muscles . . . in mass instead of size. I get heavier and stronger, but not bigger. You get it?"

I was bewildered. "You said you don’t work out?" What the hell was he talking about?

"Come on, Greg. Try to keep up. I don’t need to work out. In fact, working out makes me smaller because it burns off the energy. Sometimes I have to do that. I can’t just keep getting bigger."

It was starting to dawn on me. "You mean, that thing you did in the mirror before? That was real? You got bigger, just because you wanted to?"

He grinned. "I thought you weren’t watching me, Greg."

Busted. "Yeah, I was watching you." Sheepish. "I didn’t want to take my eyes off you. You’re so fucking huge!"

"Thanks, Greg. You’re not bad looking yourself. Just my type, actually."

I felt my face flush. "I’m your type? Gimme a break!" I never could take a compliment. But coming from him, it made me want to crawl under a rock. I suddenly became aware that I was half naked in front of him, and my dick was still out. I self-consciously tucked it into my jeans. I wanted to change the subject. "So lemme see if I have this straight . . . you pig out and your muscles get bigger . . . "

"Not exactly. I have to want them to get bigger. I have to focus on something."

"And you can just grow taller, and shit like that?" I couldn’t quite believe I was asking these questions.

"Nope. No, the height wasn’t my choice. That just happened. I don’t really like being this tall, but I can’t change that. It gives me more room for muscle when I really want to hulk out, but sometimes I’d like to be a little less visible, you know?" He seemed embarrassed! Can you believe that?

"Well, the height looks good on you, Paul." I was getting a little bolder with the compliments. Not like me at all.

"Thanks. Again. I had a feeling you liked big guys. It was all over your face. Then when I picked you up . . . well, that was the clincher!"

"That was awesome!" Shit! Why did I say that out loud?

He gave a crooked smile. Cute face on this guy! "Yeah, you said that all over my shirt, Greg."

I blushed. "Heh! Again . . . sorry about that."

"Don’t be. I’ll forgive you this time." He started moving closer to me again, slow steps.

I didn’t have much more room to back up. But this time I didn’t feel like I had to, or wanted to. He was beautiful from any distance, but up close he was overwhelming! I felt his heat again. There was so much I still didn’t understand. So many questions in my mind.

"Paul, why are you so fucking hot?"

"Wow, I get that you really like me, but you don’t have to overdo it . . ."

"No, I mean the heat. Your body heat. Why are you so hot?"

"Oh, that. That’s the metabolism. My body is processing calories. From the beer. It’s a chemical thing, I guess. But I like to think of it like a furnace - I shovel in the fuel, and it burns." He slowly ran both hands up his abs, over his massive pecs, and down again. "You want to feel it?"

Now I could tell he was hitting on me. It always takes me a while to pick up on these things. I guess I am kind of dense, like he said. Of course I started to stammer again. "Uh . . . sh . . . I . . . well . . ."

"It’s okay, Greg. There’s nothing to be afraid of." He was doing that purring thing again, the low rumble. I was backed against the wall and he was just inches away from me. Hot! "You’re a pec man, aren’t you? You like a big, thick chest. I saw you looking before." He flexed his chest. I could see all the golden hairs stand up a little while the crevice between his pecs got deeper. A few veins became visible. There was that little noise again, real quiet. He relaxed, and his pecs settled a little lower, but fuller, thicker. "And you like these." He ran his fingers over his nipples, lightly. They stood up. The areolas thickened and broke out in little goose bumps. Oh, my God! He knew me already! "Are these big enough for you, Greg?"

"Y . . . n . . . b!" My dick was waking up again.

His voice was soft. Real low. Seductive. "Why don’t you taste one and see if you like it?" He put his palms on the wall above my head and leaned into me, slowly. His wonderful scent surrounded me. His pectorals tightened across his rib cage making the nipples stand out even more against the hard muscle. "I think you’ll like it, Greg." He offered one of them to my mouth, but didn’t press. The ring of fine hairs around the areola tickled my lips as I parted them. I closed my eyes. The tip of my tongue met his nipple, shyly. Testing the heat of it. Liking it. Again, with more pressure. Moving around it, slowly. Feeling the little bumps, the hairs. "That’s nice, Greg. I like that." I opened wider and pressed my lips against the hot, hard mound of muscle. I flattened my tongue over the tip and moved it up. Licking. Tasting. Just once, but very slowly. I withdrew, opened my eyes, and looked at the thin sheen of my saliva holding the little hairs against his skin.

I hadn’t been breathing so I could barely whisper. "It’s good. You taste good, Paul."

He pushed away from the wall a bit so I could look up at his face. He smiled down on me. Beautiful! "I thought you would like it. I like the way men taste, too."

*****

To be continued . . . Tall Tale Part 6

[ttownlittlebear]

God the sex is going to be hot

[rairf]

Reeza~ This may have been my favorite chapter so far. I love the way you take your time to describe certain actions (Greg worshiping Paul's pecs). The rhythm of that section was fabulous. Keep up the good work!

[vlad]

Favorite chapter so far, I'm so glad we finally learned about HOW he got so huge...and I love the reason!! And I have to echo ttownlittlebear's sentiment...the foreplay and actual sex are going to be sooooooo hot. Excellent descriptions, I love how slow and drawn out all this is

[martinp13]

I haven't made it all the way through a chapter yet (without having to stop for a second).

[michaelv2]

Nice read. I love how Greg has to admit what he wants before Paul will give it to him. And the descriptions of the muscle are very, very tasty.