Tall Tale, Part 8

[Reeza]

Tall Tale

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7

TALL TALE - Part 8
by Reeza

Yeah, Dan . . . it was. I have to admit it was the best orgasm I ever had. And less than an hour after the last one. I know . . . I didn’t expect it either. But seriously, this whole thing doesn’t seem possible, so it fits, right? Just one more unbelievable part of the whole fucking mess.

What’s his problem? Good question! That’s exactly what I was thinking while I was trying to catch my breath. There was so much going through my head. So many feelings and so much confusion. It’s still like that. That’s why I had to talk about it.

So he says, "Have a little rest. You’re gonna need it." And I thought, "What a fucking prick!" Looking back on it, I know I could have handled things better from the beginning, but like I said, how could I be prepared for this? This huge, muscular, wet dream of a guy scares the shit out of me, orders me around, and then tells me his life story! What the fuck? Then he threatens me again, but it seems like he wants me, so I go with it, but he never gets hard. Next thing I know he’s pissed off again, so he tortures me and then gives me a great big blow job! You see what I mean, right? This was all within the space of an hour, and I thought I was just going out for some beers with my buddies after work. Jesus!

So there we were, both naked. I’m covered with sweat and saliva and he’s pacing back and forth, barely perspiring after holding me up in the air for what seemed like an eternity. He was looking at me like he just did me a big favor. And I started to get pissed.

So I said to him, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

That surprised him. "What? Whatdya mean? You came, didn’t you? I told you so. Pretty big load, too . . ."

"You’re fucking with me! You’ve been fucking with me the whole time! All these mind games and threats - it’s all bullshit!"

"C’mon, Greg! You didn’t really think I was going to . . ."

"What the hell am I supposed to think? You think this happens to me every day?"

"It could if . . ."

"Well it doesn’t you stupid fucking ox! You think this is some kind of game? You think I was looking for this?"

"I don’t know about you, Greg, but your dick seemed to like it." Smiling again, like he wanted to go back to joking.

I had to pause because it was true that I enjoyed it. Despite all my instincts, I enjoyed what he did to me . . . what he made me do. But it was still fucked up, and my anger was just getting started.. Well, you know what my temper is like, Dan - a long fuse followed by a big explosion. His smile pissed me off even more. "Yeah? And what about your dick, you big asshole? Does it do anything but piss? Didn’t your mommy tell you how that thing works?"

"Hey! My mother has nothing to do with . . ."

"It doesn’t work in front of other guys, is that it? Only when you’re alone . . . or maybe you’re really into chicks but you can’t admit it."

"I am not into . . ."

"Or is it farm animals? Do you miss the farm, Paul?" I was on a roll now.

"What the fuck . . ."

I stood up, not scared anymore, even if I should have been. I could tell I was irritating him. "Have you seen those commercials about erectile dysfunction? You could get something for that . . ."

"It works, Greg! Believe me . . ." He stood his ground, of course. I didn’t pose any real threat to him, physically, but I was trying to get in his face. He was so much taller, the best I could do was bump up against the front of his body. His very hot body. He glared at me. "You should back off, Greg!"

"Yeah? Why? Afraid of me, now? Think I’m going to beat you up?"

He snorted. "Yeah, right! Didn’t we go over that?" He put his hands on his hips, trying to look bored and amused. He bounced his huge pecs a little, probably trying to distract me. I felt a pulse of heat from his groin. It seemed like something was stirring down there. "Look, why don’t we get back to what we were doing . . . say my name, Greg."

"Pussy!" I saw the reaction in his eyes. "What were we doing, Pussy?"

"I thought we were having fun. I gave you what you wanted, now we can . . ."

"Was that what I wanted, Cocksucker? I don’t remember being asked." I bumped up against him, aggressively.

"Fuck you! I don’t have to ask, Greg . . . you loved it! You never got so lucky in your whole pathetic life!"

"Oh! Thanks for the gift, Cunt!" I backed away a little. "I’m gonna beat your ass, now." I hauled off and punched him in the stomach. It was a wall of solid muscle, so it was like hitting the heavy bag at the gym, but without gloves. I tried not to wince from the pain.

"What the . . . ?!" His surprise was obvious now. "Are you crazy?"

It was a fair question. I must have lost my fucking mind. I hit him again, focusing on his abs. But my eyes were on his dick. It was definitely getting thicker.

"You’re not gonna hurt me, Greg. But you know I can feel that, right?" He easily shoved me away with one hand. I came right back and hit him again.

"Knock it off! Don’t piss me off, Greg!"

"Why not? What are you gonna do? Slap me with your limp dick?" Another blow to his abs.

"Fuckin’ . . . I told you, it’ll get hard when I’m ready, you crazy little bastard!" He shoved me again with more effort.

"Ready for what? What does it take to get you ready? You need to bring in a sheep? A cow? What?" I hit him again, noticing that his cock stood out a little more.

He raised a big fist and aimed it at me. "I don’t fuck animals, Greg!"

"That’s right! You can’t fuck anything with that overcooked noodle!" Another punch. My fist was killing me.

He pulled back his arm, looming over me with a tortured, angry expression. I knew he could splatter me all over the wall with one blow. "Don’t make me hurt you, Greg!"

"Go ahead, ya fuckin’ coward! Hit me!" Yeah . . . I’m crazy.

But he didn’t hit me. Somehow I just knew he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He stood there, frozen, trying to figure out how to handle this. This was something new for him - someone who didn’t just surrender to his awesome body. I was staring him down. That huge, powerful arm just hung there in the air until he came up with a lame excuse. "You’re lucky I’m not in the mood to kill anyone today." For the first time I recognized how young he was - 19, 20 maybe? Just a kid, really.

"Oh, gimme a fuckin’ break! As if you would kill anyone!"

"I could, ya know!" He tried to sound convincing.

"You could, but you wouldn’t!"

He didn’t respond. He backed away from me and started pacing again, restless and agitated. Watching his spectacular naked body move back and forth was almost enough to make me back down, but I wasn’t going to quit now that the tables had turned. And his dick was getting longer.

"You wouldn’t hurt a fly, ya big baby!"

"That’s not true! You don’t know me. If people piss me off enough . . . you don’t know what I can do!"

"Tell me then! Try to scare me! I dare you, you pansy-ass faggot!"

That hit a nerve. "Hey! Don’t call me that, you puny little shit! The last guy who said that found out what I can do. Don’t push me, Greg!"

"Oh you mean the kid whose arm you broke? I thought that was an accident. Now you’re just making up shit to . . ."

"No! It was Mike, the bartender! Right out there in the bar! I bent him in half and I fucked him!"

That was unexpected. I didn’t believe him. "Get the fuck outa here! Everybody knows Mike is straight."

"I didn’t say he wanted it, Greg! He pissed me off, I lost control, and next thing you know he couldn’t walk for a week! Why do you think he lets me do whatever I want around here? Did you ever see Mike treat anyone the way he treats me?"

He had a point. Mike was so apologetic when he came to the door earlier. He was never like that. Was Paul telling the truth, or was he bluffing? Could he really do that to someone? I certainly wanted to find out. I figured if I brought it this far, I might as well finish it. So I said, "There’s only one problem with that story - your dick doesn’t get hard."

"Fuck you, Greg!"

"Please do! If you can."

"God damn it, Greg! You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about! You won’t listen!" He was getting louder, more agitated. I could see he was starting to lose control. His dick was a little bigger.

"Oh, I hear you! But it’s all talk and no show! What’s the point of having a huge tool like that if it’s got no power supply?"

"You think I’m just some piece of meat for you to play with?" He was angry now. He shoved me again and I stumbled back against the wall.

"Look who’s talking, Paul! Who’s been tossing me around like a rag doll for the last hour? Huh?"

"That’s different!"

"What?! How is it different?"

"I gave you what you wanted, Greg!"

"Bullshit! You didn’t care what I wanted! You did what you wanted and I went along with it! As if I had a choice!"

"Well, what do you want then?"

"I told you, you fuckin’ idiot! I wanna see you hard! I wanna see it!"

"And then what?!" He was actually yelling now.

I yelled back. "I want you to fuck me with it! Are you stupid? What the hell do you want?"

"I want to fuck your brains out, Greg!" Finally!

"Then do it! Let’s go! What are you waiting for?" I sprang forward and grabbed him by the balls. I cupped one in each hand and felt their incredible weight and fullness. I squeezed them and his shaft got bigger.

"Greg! I can’t fuck you! You don’t know what you’re doing!"

"I think I do, Paul." I knelt down in front of him and licked the head of his hot prick.

"Don’t! That’s too fast! I have to control it!" He pushed my head away from his crotch.

"Fuck that! It’s time to lose control, Paul!" I kissed his hardening shaft. It felt pretty stiff already, and I wondered how much bigger it could get.

"You want me to lose control? Like I did with Mike? Maybe you should ask him about that! Ask him how it felt to have his guts rearranged, or how many days it was before he stopped bleeding." He kept trying to push me away, but I was persistent. It was my turn to be aggressive.

"You think I don’t know what it’s like to be fucked, Paul? Or to fuck someone else? I’ve been around longer than you, kid! I know what it looks like!"

"You don’t know what this looks like, Greg."

Despite his objections, I took the head of his dick in my mouth. He moaned, like a low growl. I was determined to get him so riled up that he would give me what I wanted. His head was already big and firm. I grabbed his hard round ass cheeks and rubbed my hands over their silky skin. I pushed my face forward onto his huge shaft as far as I could go while my tongue moved around it’s thickness. Against all odds, my own dick was getting hard again.

Paul had stopped trying to push me away. He seemed to be giving in, letting me take control. But he continued to talk in a low voice while I worked on his erection. "I warned you, Greg. You think you know what you want, but I’m not like other guys . . . oh, that feels good! Keep doing that." He put his hands on the back of my head.

I had to let go of his ass, reluctantly, because I was having trouble reaching it. His growing manhood was pushing me away from him, so I moved my hands to the base of his cock and found there was plenty to grab. I was stretching my neck to reach the level of his rising shaft. It occurred to me that I might have to get off my knees, but I was too focused on keeping him in my mouth. He wasn’t going to get away from me this time. My tired prick was aching.

Paul wasn’t fighting me off. The sounds he made told me he was enjoying it. He continued to talk to me. "You know how much I want to fuck you, Greg? You have no idea. You don’t know what it’s like to fuck a guy so hard and so deep you can feel his heart beating against your dick. God, I want to fuck you that hard!" Wow! It sounded like I’d be getting what I wanted.

I was still trying to suck on his huge knob, but I was having trouble moving it around in my mouth without scraping my teeth against it. It didn’t seem to hurt him. My neck was killing me and I was getting uncomfortable. How much bigger could it get? He took his hands off the back of my head and put them on his hips, thrusting forward gently, flexing his cobblestone abs. The hot pressure on the roof of my mouth increased and I felt my knees leave the floor, involuntarily. I tightened my grip on his thick shaft to get some leverage, and I realized the enormous head of his cock was stuck in my mouth! I had no idea it would get this big! I tried to stand up, but he put one hand on top of my head and prevented me. Then he flexed his powerful shaft causing it to rise at a steeper angle, lifting most of my weight. I found myself dangling from his rock-hard pole like a fish on a hook, with only my toes touching the floor. My eyes were wide open. I wasn’t in control anymore. Maybe I never was. Maybe he wasn’t either.

"You see, Greg? I tried to warn you. You don’t know what you’re dealing with." His voice wasn’t angry anymore. Not condescending. Not sarcastic. He closed his eyes for a moment and flexed his rod again. Its head flared up, filling all the available space in my mouth and straining my jaw. He put his fingers on my cheeks and massaged the joints. "You should be glad I still have some control or this would be dislocated by now." He wasn’t boasting or gloating. He didn’t even seem pleased to have the upper hand again. "Everybody wants to see it, Greg . . . but no one is ready for it."

I gripped his shaft like a baseball bat and tried to struggle my way into a better position. I could tell there was no way to get him out of my mouth without losing my front teeth. "Don’t do that, Greg! You have no idea how good that feels. You’ll only make it worse." He moaned, my jaw ached, and I understood. I stopped moving.

He looked down at me and ran his fingers through my hair. "You see, I really want to fuck you, Greg, but I can’t. No matter how much you think you want it . . . I’m too damned big. It’s like you said before: I could hurt you, but I wouldn’t. I don’t know why, because you’re a fine piece of ass, but . . . I can’t do it. I have to say, though, you really had me going! Nobody ever challenged me like that." He was smiling, but sounded kind of sad. "So I want to put an end to this without anybody getting hurt, okay? Are you with me, Greg?"

I tried to nod, but I couldn’t move my head. I said yes with my eyes.

"I need to blow my load, and you’re gonna to have to swallow it. Fair enough? I did you . . . now you can do me. I know it’s not what you really wanted, but the options are limited right now." He wasn’t kidding, just stating the facts. If my mouth wasn’t full, I would have told him it was okay, that I didn’t mind. I was the one who wanted to see him hard. He was the one who warned me. I could see things more clearly now. Too late, as usual.

Paul continued. "You need to do what I tell you, Greg . . . just like before, okay? This is serious. I only have so much control, so you have to do your part. When I’m ready to come, I need you to take a deep breath and hold it. Understand?"

The reality of the situation was starting to sink in. I thought about the size of the dick in my mouth, the size of his balls, the size of his body, and his immense strength. I remembered what he said about his "potential," the pressure he built up inside from all the energy he consumed, the same energy he used to grow his muscles. It occurred to me, then, that despite all the control he had over his body, there might be one time when he could lose it all, when the pressure could be released in an uncontrolled blast. Orgasm. I understood. My eyes grew wide with fear, and he saw it.

"It’ll be okay, Greg. I’ve done this before. If you hold your breath it won’t get into your lungs. Try to relax your throat. Just do what I say and you’ll be okay. You might even enjoy it."

Enjoy it? The words seemed odd considering my predicament, but I knew what he meant. And my dick was like an iron bar again. Unbelievable. My heart was thumping away, so I started to breathe slowly and deeply to calm myself down. I realized that this would be a fantasy come true for many people. For me, actually . . . if I'd been honest with myself.

He began to talk me through it in calm, rhythmic phrases. "Keep your hands on my shaft, Greg. Just keep squeezing it like that. It feels good. I’ll do the rest. It won’t take long." He put his hands on his stomach and caressed his abs, just like he did when all of this started. He felt the hard muscles, the hair, the hot skin. I could tell he loved his body. He created it from his own fantasies, and he was enjoying it as much as any man who ever touched him. He reached behind himself and grabbed his own ass, flexing and squeezing the hard globes of muscle. He stroked the skin with his fingertips, lightly tickling his own flesh. Goose bumps appeared on his thighs. Every breath he took in was released with a soft moan. I just hung there on his dick and watched the show, as much as I could see without moving my head.

He brought his arms forward and stroked each one with the other hand, ruffling the hair on his thick forearms, feeling the hardness of his own biceps, tracing the veins. He crossed his arms over his chest and felt his massive shoulders. He stretched his upper back by hugging himself tightly. He dragged his hands over his chest, massaging those big pectoral muscles, cupping them in his palms. I think he liked them as much as I did. His eyes were closed now and he was breathing more rapidly, his huge rib cage expanding with each deep breath. "Prepare yourself, Greg. Keep breathing. Relax your throat. I’ll let you know when it’s time." He played with his nipples and pinched them. His dick jerked my head up and I felt warm liquid at the back of my throat. The soothing pre-come helped relax my throat and calm my gag reflex. He was getting closer. I was getting ready.

He ran his hands up and down his torso a few times, bending backwards so his abs stood out in glorious detail. Veins fanned out from his pelvis, under the golden hair. My jaw ached as I squeezed his huge organ with both hands, hoping it wouldn’t get any bigger. I felt the pulse of his heartbeat in the blood that filled the shaft. He raised his arms upward, straight up in the air, stretching hard towards the high ceiling. His powerful prick lifted me a little higher. He held the stretch for a long minute and said, "Take a deep breath, Greg. And hold it." My heart did a somersault as I filled my lungs with air. He lowered his arms into a double biceps flex, threw back his head, and roared! I held my breath. His cock lurched and the first volley of hot semen shot down my throat and flowed into my stomach. I couldn’t have blocked it if I tried. He flexed harder. I concentrated on my throat, not allowing myself to gag. He came in long blasts accompanied by loud guttural noises. He tensed and flexed every muscle in his body . . . and they grew . . . all at once. There was a sound, like leather rubbing against leather, and every muscle I could see got bigger, thicker, more defined. Fortunately his huge prick stayed the same, but it looked like his whole body was experiencing his massive erection and was swelling up with the orgasm. He radiated heat like an iron stove, and sweat ran off my body in sheets.

He continued to empty his balls into my throat, filling me with his hot pressure. I wanted to breathe, but I couldn’t risk it while he was still coming. My stomach was already uncomfortably full. His spasms started to slow, and the volume of semen was reduced, but my eyes were watering from the burning and stretching in my belly. Finally he stopped flexing and lowered his arms. He was finished. I exhaled and gasped for fresh air. His chest expanded and contracted, exchanging huge drafts of hot breath. My body was slowly lowered as his erection lost some of its strength. When my knees were firmly on the floor, I took my hands off his yielding shaft and planted them on his massive sweaty thighs. I had to lean against him; I was feeling dizzy. Although the head of his cock was still in my mouth, my jaw was no longer stretched to its limit. I moved my tongue over the warm velvety cap, tasting the ambrosia of Paul. I immediately regretted that so much of that fluid bypassed my taste buds on its way down my throat.

"Are you alright, Greg?" Paul put his hand in my hair and moved my head back, away from his body. His softened dick fell out of my mouth and dropped back between his thighs. I swallowed what was left in my mouth. So good. He tilted my head so I was looking up at him, his body glistening with perspiration, bigger than ever. More incredible than before. My head was swimming. It must have been the sight of him . . . the heat . . . dehydration . . . the pain in my stomach. He bent down and put his hands under my arms, lifting me up, setting me on my feet, holding me steady. My legs were like rubber; I couldn’t stand. He slid his hands down to my waist and easily lifted me off the floor, like it was an ordinary thing to do. He looked at my belly and realized why I was so unsteady. My distended gut was like an overripe watermelon. My abs stood out like never before with all that pressure behind them. A look of worry crossed his face. "Oh, shit! Greg, I’m sorry. I didn’t think . . . I never came that much before. I tried to control it, but I . . . are you okay?"

There was genuine concern in his voice. I realized there might be more of a problem than I thought. I felt the pain, but also . . . pleasure . . . hard to describe. To have all that inside me . . . so much of him . . . was the most satisfying feeling I ever had. My head was buzzing from the intensity of the whole experience . . . from unexpectedly meeting the biggest, most beautiful man who ever was . . . to having my stomach filled, almost bursting, with his delicious, hot essence. I smiled a stupid woozy smile and said, "I’m fine, Paul. I’m fine." I was euphoric.

"Are you sure? You don’t look fine."

"I’m fine! It tasted so good." My blurry eyes wandered over the bulging muscles of his chest, his biceps, his shoulders. "You grew! So beautiful . . ."

He gave me a doubtful look. Then he noticed my stiff, throbbing dick, the same one that sprang up when I got my first good look at him. He lifted me higher and raised his eyebrows. "Wow, Greg! Your little fella just won’t stop pointing at me."

I managed a small laugh as my head rolled backwards. Little! It was amusing now, considering the size of his erection. My respectable tool was a fraction of the size of his heavy equipment.

Paul gently blew on my hot prick like he had once before. "It looks like you might have one more shot in there, Shorty. Do you wanna go for it?"

Shorty! It sounded affectionate now. So different from when we started. I felt giddy. "Sure! Go for it! Do what you . . . get what you want . . . what I want . . . whatever . . ." I put my hands on his head to steady myself. It seemed like the room was spinning around me. I looked down at his handsome young face, his blue eyes. My dick was already twitching, so it wouldn’t take much to make me come again.

He looked at my rounded gut again. "I hate to say it, Greg . . . I mean, I’m sorry and all, but . . . it's so damned hot to see you with that big load of splooge in your belly! That’s the biggest load I ever shot. I can’t believe you got that much out of me." He brought me to his face. His lips touched the hair and tanned skin of my abdomen. And I felt the pressure of his big wet tongue.

The last thing I remember was the spasm of pleasure and pain that gripped my body as the last dregs from my balls splattered onto his chest. Then I blacked out.

*****

That’s all I remember, Dan. No. That’s it.

I woke up in my apartment, in my bed, with the phone ringing. I jerked my head off the pillow and automatically reached for the phone, completely unprepared for any kind of conversation. I croaked out a greeting.

"Greg! What the fuck is wrong with you? You can’t blow me off like this, ya lazy motherfucker! You have to fuckin’ ask before you take a day off! What the fuck kind of pansy-ass operation d’ya think we’re runnin’ down here, ya whiny little cocksucker?"

It was Jim, my foreman. I looked at the clock - 9:30. What day? What the fuck? I was disoriented. I ran my right hand over my stomach and felt fullness, but no pain. My skin felt sticky. I remembered Paul. I sat up and looked around while Jim produced a string of obscenities known as communication among construction workers. I felt pain in my shoulder and found a large bruise where Paul’s hand had grabbed me. My boots were on the floor, and what was left of my shirt. I had my jeans on, but my thighs were showing through long rips in the fabric. I was alone. I saw my keys and my wallet on the bedside table on top of a torn piece of note paper.

Jim was still yelling. "You go off to the toilet and the fucking bartender tells us you’re sick! Since when do ya get sick on a couple of beers ya fuckin’ pussy?"

I tried to explain. "Sorry, Jim, it’s . . . some kind of stomach thing." My hand was still on my abdomen. My whole body ached, like a day after an overdone workout at the gym.

"When I was your age I drank ten times as much as you pantywaist motherfuckers and I never missed a day . . ."

I stretched out my hand, noticing the bruises across my fingers and knuckles. I pulled the paper out from under my wallet. It was a note written in pencil, printed in simple block letters:

"Greg,
Sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.
Please don’t tell anyone about me.
I’ll find you when I’m ready.
Paul."

I read it a few times while I half-listened to the blue streak of Jim’s anger.

". . . and we worked 16 hour days in fuckin’ hundred degree heat without one fuckin’ complaint because we had the fuckin’ wife and kids screaming . . ."

"Jim, I won’t be in tomorrow either. I hurt my shoulder."

"WHAT?! You said it was your stomach you fuckin’ liar. Do ya think I’m a fuckin’ idiot?"

"I’ll be there on Monday."

"You know I’ve got ten motherfucking aliens out here just waiting to take your job you lazy sack of shit so you’d better think about what . ."

I hung up. He wouldn’t fire me. He was just worried about me.

*****

Remember, you can’t tell anyone about this. I’m trusting you, Dan. Yeah, that was two days ago. I haven’t left the apartment except to get cigarettes. . . . Yeah, I’m fucked up, Dan! That’s the whole fuckin’ theme of the story! . . . I can’t sleep because I keep going over it in my head. If I hadn’t been such an asshole, if I’d been more honest, if I didn’t get so angry, maybe we could have . . . Yeah I wanna see him again, of course I do! . . . No . . . no, he’s not! I know it seems that way but I’m telling you he didn’t mean it. He’s just . . . confused or something. Who wouldn’t be? He’s just a big kid. You remember what it was like . . . Yes, I’m going to work on Monday. . . . No, I haven’t showered. . . . Cuz I don’t want to. I want to keep . . . I can still smell him on me, you know? . . . Yes, I’m eating. You know how much I eat. But it doesn’t fill me up like it used to. . . . I don’t know, because it’s not what I’m hungry for. . . . You know what I want. Haven’t you been listening? . . . C’mon, Dan, you know! . . . I want Paul.

I’m waiting for Paul . . .

*****

The End

*****

Author's Note: I started a sequel to this story. It's called Farblondjet

[ttownlittlebear]

God that was fucking great. I'll be waiting for paul too.

[rairf]

Damn Reeza. Damn. That was so sexy.

He ran his hands up and down his torso a few times, bending backwards so his abs stood out in glorious detail. Veins fanned out from his pelvis, under the golden hair. My jaw ached as I squeezed his huge organ with both hands, hoping it wouldn?t get any bigger. I felt the pulse of his heartbeat in the blood that filled the shaft. He raised his arms upward, straight up in the air, stretching hard towards the high ceiling. His powerful prick lifted me a little higher. He held the stretch for a long minute and said, "Take a deep breath, Greg. And hold it." My heart did a somersault as I filled my lungs with air. He lowered his arms into a double biceps flex, threw back his head, and roared!

It's like you pulled my fantasy out of my mind and expressed it in a way I have yet to achieve. Awesome story. And you KNOW you'll be writing the sequel.

[dimarvalc]

Oh... My... God...

Reeza...

What have you done?

Why did you publish this today? (Not that I'm complaining, of course)

Don't you know we are creatures of little willpower?

I have been following this story since the very first chapter and now, today, when I had planned to go to work early, you give us this...

Greg said it best: "There was so much going through my head. So many feelings and so much confusion."

I'm left bleeding after reading this final chapter to Tall Tale. And the thing is that, I'm not bleeding blood, but pure, undiluted lust. The pen is mightier than the sword, and in no way can I find a better example than this. You have ripped us apart with this and now, like a diabetic, the wound will not heal.

I read this at 6am, when I woke up. As it is usual for me, I always check my websites and e-mail before going to work. I saw it published and, knowing better, I was supposed to leave it untouched until after work, but I had no control over my hand. I heard the click of the mouse and before I could shield my eyes from it, I read the first sentence. I knew then that I was doomed to read it at that moment.

The pain was unbearable, and I gave myself 3 hours to try and recover, but the bleeding intensified. I felt my lifeforce escape me, but I lingered and was able to reach my work. I'm still painfully hurt, and I think I will not recover until I read it again.

I totally identified with Greg, and I felt the loss of Paul deeply, just as he is feeling it right now. I needed him, I was waiting for him to return too. I could still feel the lingering smell of him in me, as I walked the streets to get to work. I still cannot get the images out from my mind

Wonderful, that you were able to (with your very first story, no less) make us a part of this story and made us feel and live the events as if we were there.

I'm happy to have been given the hope of seeing Paul again in the future. Thanks!

Like yourself, I had to sacrifice something for the story. In your case, it was sleep with some chapters; for me, it was being late to work today by 4 hours. I had to give my boss a lame excuse, and thank god he swallowed it... swallow... mmmmmmmm... belly full...

You know this goes into my binder now, right beside the stories of Rowan McBride, Redkage, and some others. I can only hope that, someday, you will have your very own binder in my personal library

dimarvalc

[Lothian]

Consummately done, sir.

*Applauds*

[redroger11]

Aw Man. Take pity on a guy. Don't leave Greg and Paul just hanging in the wind. I know ya gotta give them some time. But don't abandon us .. Uh I mean them.

Great story man. And Great Storyman.
Keep Writing.

redroger11

[cesarvillavi]

Just some one of the best stories I've read in some time... You are a great writter Reeza. You have done an excellent work.

[ydt81]

terrific.
bravo!

[rairf]

I asked Reeza about the future of this tale- we will be seeing a sequel. Our dear R. is taking a break and then will get us going again.

[sexiscriptor]

wowza, that was wild man....i'll hafta read through the rest, too
great story, keep'em coming ^.^
~Palmer

[Reeza]

Thank you all for the great comments. Much appreciated.

Rairf is correct, as usual. I needed a break, but I have plans to continue writing about Paul in a new series of stories which I just started working on. I'm going to try to write much longer segments this time rather than breaking it up into shorter chapters, so that will require more time between postings. No ETA for the next story yet, but it will build on what's been established in this series. I'm aiming for more muscle growth, a variety of settings, and some new characters with different perspectives.

Thanks again for reading and for your feedback on Tall Tale.

[dimarvalc]

As Greg said: "I?m waiting for Paul . . ."



As long as it takes for you to write another wonderful story as this one, it's OK with us.

After all, "I can still smell him on me, you know?"

So, don't worry. Rest, think, write. And when you post it, we'll be here... "waiting for Paul . . ."



dimarvalc

[bigtoni]

Ok. After reading this,i just HAD to say something: Great story that glued me to the next chapter, the best "novella" stile. If i may, just want to say that, i too was intrigued and hot for Paul, but seemed a incomplete, broken soul. I am not sure if the author failed on giving us a more stable caracter, or because Paul is still a child. Or personality desorder... Just kiding. Congratulations.

[Cowpuncher]

Reeza:
One hell of a HOT TALE!! Sure would be great to "reunite" the two hunks. Don't leave them "hanging" --they NEED each other to complete the whole PERSON---please; PLEASE write a sequel!! Excellent writing to keep us "on the edge of our seats" and now we are just being"hung out to dry" with out the heat and breeze!!!

[Mass Driver]

Hey there Cowpuncher, look up Flablondjet. I think that's the way Reeza spelled it. It's a sequel to this story. Paul feels a need for a little counseling and looks up a shrink. It's a good story, too.
I just hope Reeza wants to continue with these great characters.
So please...
Keep Writing.

MD

[amauiguy]

This is a totally great series! Very nice work. I'm really looking forward to more.

[nypup2train]

Originally Posted by Mass Driver

Hey there Cowpuncher, look up Flablondjet. I think that's the way Reeza spelled it.

"Farblondjet", actually.