The Reunion

[Corwin]

[This should be my 1000 post on the forum, so why not post a story I started]

Reunion

I had waited ten years for my revenge. No, that's not accurate. It had been ten years since my humiliation by Robert, but it was years after that when I realized I could get revenge.

My humiliation happened the night of the prom. Robert had been my nemesis since junior high. You see, I was short, skinny and kind of a dork. Robert wasn't much better, but he did have a bit of a talent for tennis. He also had an inner confidence that I lacked. That made me prime material for his taunting. Oh, there was one other thing. Robert had no problem getting any girl, or guy, he wanted. In junior high he got a reputation for being a big man. Everyone in high school either wanted him or had had him. Well, he had them. I even heard that he took on the football team in a circle jerk, and none of those studs could match his unnatural size.

I didn't want to go to my prom, but my mother insisted. "It only happens once in your life," she told me. I didn't have a choice. I asked several girls, but they all said no. At the last minute, Patty was dumped by her boyfriend and she asked me. I guess I was flattered, so I said yes. I rented a limo and was fitted for a light blue tux. She wore a pink dress. When we got in the limo, she pulled out a joint. I had only smoked a few times, but this stuff was pretty good. We were buzzed. Everything was going OK, until we got to our table. Robert was there with his date.

"Looks like little Mikey scored a date," he announced as we took our seats. Patty responded by turning to me and planting a huge french kiss on me. Robert laughed. "Hey Patty, if Mikey can't live up to your expectations, I can," he said. His date blushed.

I don't know if Robert had it planned, but I should have suspected something. After dinner, he pulled me aside. "Look, I know I've picked on you a little, but let me make it up. Patty obviously has the hots for you." He handed me a key. "I have a room upstairs. Go ahead and use it." He walked away.

Patty was eager and accepted. I couldn't believe it. I was gonna get laid! It was awkward as we both fumbled to get out of our clothes. I was hard at once. She kissed me and grabbed my organ in her hand. "It's OK," she said as she moved down. "Don't worry about it." I didn't understand, but she put her mouth and sucked me in instantly. We laid down, and she flipped over. I kissed her lower lips and began licking like I had read in the magazines. She seemed to like it.

It seemed like forever that only lasted an instant. My mind was lost in physical pleasure, but she stopped and pressed her breasts into me. I felt he hips maneuver, and she whispered, "You're gonna have to thrust forward a bit to get it in." I did, and pushed. My dick slid into her with ease. "Rub against me. Please. Play with my nipples and clit." I did as I was told. I was so into her, I ignored the sounds from the hall. Suddenly, the door swung open and Robert sauntered in. He had stripped off his tux and stood there in his underwear.

Patty was pounding into me, a strange look on her face. "Frustrated Patty?" Robert said. "I can take care of that." With that, he dropped his boxers and his legendary cock popped up. He strutted over to Patty, raising his pole from the base in one hand and holding it in front of her. She placed her hand on its extensive length. Even with both their hands, I could still see a few inches of rod and the fat head. "He's not doing the job, but this will," Robert boasted. I felt Patty's vagina tighten around me, nearly forcing me out of her. I squirmed to stay in, but she rolled to the side and dismounted.

"Check it out," Robert said as he moved his python next to my earthworm. "How big is that thing? Three? Four inches?"

"I'm almost five," I shouted as I looked at Patty. She averted her eyes and I heard Robert laugh. He leaned forward and whispered, "I'm more than twice that size, runt!" I wasn't going to cry, and what happened next is a blur. Robert jumped on top of Patty and started to rub his cock against her. I saw him try to poke her, but instead moved back and rubbed his fingers into her. "Damn, he didn't even warm you up, did he?"

She shook her head.

"Don't worry. A real man is here now."

I couldn't take it. I rolled out of bed and tried to find my clothes, but I could still hear them. When he penetrated her, she screamed, "Oh my god, it's too thick So big."

"I'll go slow. I know how to use this."

I looked and saw his toned young body and tight ass pushing gently into her.

"Oh god!" she screamed. I saw Robert looking at me. He mouthed "one" She screamed again. "two" with each orgasm he counted, her young body gyrating below him. I could see he had his hand wrapped around the base of his monster. Damn, he was so big she couldn't even take him all. And he was still giving her more pleasure than I could.

I grabbed my clothes and ran into the hall. I fell to the ground in tears. I waited for them to finish, hearing the sounds of their love making. No, not love making. It was just sex. He didn't care about her. He just wanted to humiliate me. He left first, and on his way passed me, he said it. "I can ruin ever lover you ever get with this, and I just might. Runt!"

That was then, but this is now.

That summer, I found the courage to try and change things. I realized that I might never satisfy a lover with my inadequate size, but I was still a man. I joined a gym. I'd make up for my short comings. I weighed 125 pounds, but by the end of the summer, I was 130 and a light tigher. I had abs and small biceps were forming. Your could even see my pecs.

In college, I went to the gym religiously. I avoided the big guys at first, but soon my confidence began to grow. At the end of my freshman year, I was 145 pounds. That's when one of the big guys noticed me. His name was Roger, but everyone called him Mule. He had been watching me, and asked if I wanted to train with him. "I have a power lifting meet coming up, and I could use a few guys to help me grow." Roger was 190 pounds of muscle. He could bench 450 and dead lift 600. He showed me how to train hard. He didn't judge me, but understood my desire to be a man. After 5 months of training, I was 160 pounds and growing.

I guess I should have suspected something then. Roger invited me to his meet, which he easily won. We had rented a hotel room, and he got a bottle of Johnny Walker to celebrate. We drank, and got tipsy. Roger stripped off his shirt and started hitting some poses. "Damn I love being big. Wanna get huge!"

"Me too," I admitted, taking another drink to gather my courage.

"Come on Mike, let's see! Let's compare, just like bodybuilders on stage."

"I dunno," but Mule laughed and grabbed my shirt, lifting it up.

"Shit man, take another drink if you're afraid, but look at that six pack. Fuck, it's not six, it's eight. You are ripped and growin!"

I raised my hands and allowed him to lift my shirt. I turned, and filled another glass and chugged it. "I don't know how to pose," I admitted.

"Sure you do," Mule said. "All guys do. Raise your arms like this," he flexed his biceps. "These guns just broke 18. I want 19 by the end of the year. Maybe 20 or more by the time I graduate."

I raised my arms. "I don't know how big mine are," I admitted.

"Looks like a good 16. Maybe even 16 and a half!"

Maybe it was the booze or maybe it was the Mule's praise, but I felt confident. We hit a side chest, triceps, most muscular poses. I was getting into it. It was like playing, standing there comparing our bodies. Ya, the Mule was bigger, but he was right, I was no slouch.

The whiskey flowed, and we stripped down. "Shit man, you got nice wheels," he said, pressing his was thigh into mine. "Check out your cows. Mine won't grow, but yours are huge."

The heat of his body and his praise was getting to me. I felt my worm coming to life in my briefs. I turned, flexing my lats trying to hide my hardening cock.

"Those wings are really coming along too," he said, and I felt his hands on my lats, feeling my hard muscle. "Let's see those bis again, stud." I raised my arms, my hills rising. His hand stroked my back, over my delts and squeezed the balls. "Like rocks," he said. "Come on, feel mine now," he said.

I hesitated, but I felt his strong arms on my shoulders turning me around. I couldn't look him in the eye, so I tried to stare at the floor. There was no hiding my erection now. I started to mumble when I saw the huge bulge in his briefs. He was hard too!

"Hey man, no worries. Just normal teen reaction. Us muscle guys got lots of T and get hard at the drop of a dime." He raised his arms. I placed my hand on his bicep. It was hard and round and hot. "Here," he said, grabbing my hands in his. "Try and take me down." I saw him tense, his lats, pecs and delts preparing for an onslaught.

I pulled. In a mirror, I was my body flex. I actually heard the Mule grunt and his arms wavered for a second before he adjusted to my power. I pulled for a good minute, my arms starting to cramp at his superior power. At the same time, the Mule began to swear. With a jerk, he pushed, placing his considerable strength against my legs. My arms buckled and a rocked back and forth. The Mule pressed, and I fell. He landed on top of me. I tried to break free, but he wrapped his legs around my chest and forced my arms to the ground. I tried to buck him off, but he conquered me. "Give?" he finally said.

"Give," sighed.

"Damn, you got one hard body," he said holding me down. I saw him grin just before his face moved to mine and kissed me. At first, I tried to pull away, but it felt kinda good. Must have been the booze or something, cause I relaxed. The Mule moved his hands down my body and I moved him hands to him. Damn, he was big and hard. I felt him grabbing my briefs. I did the same to him. I couldn't believe my ears when I heard him say, "Damn you have a nice cock."

"It's kinda small," I blushed.

"Looks good to me. What is it? six and half? seven inches?"

I didn't understand, but he didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he grabbed me and lifted me up. He grabbed his meat and put it next to mine. "I'm eight." He judged my size next to him. I looked down, and he was bigger than me, but not the three inches I expected. "Ya, you're a good six inches. That's respectable. Besides," he grabbed me in a bear hug which I flexed into, "you got one hot body." The Mule grabbed me and threw me to the ground. Damn, he was way better than Patty ever could be.

We didn't repeat what happened that night, but we continued to train together. When the Mule hit 200, I was 180. He hit 210, but I was right behind him at 200. At 215, I caught up. I had put on 90 pounds of solid muscle, and I easily powerlifted as much as the Mule.

"I'm still gonna take you," he challenged at the end of our senior year.

"In your dreams!"

"Two months. Pittsburgh. You're looking at the next collegiate champion," he said, flexing his 20 inch arm.

"Not if this cannon has anything to say about it." I flexed my own 19.5 inch bicep next to his.

For those two months, I trained like a freak. And I kept growing. I put on another ten pounds, yet had a body fat of 5%. I was shredded.

The next time I was the Mule was backstage. We were both wearing sweats. "Mikey!" he called, then slapped me on the back. "Shit man, is that granite or muscle?" he said.

"Is there a difference," I said with a grin, and slapped him back. "Damn hard there too."

"216 at weigh in!" he said, bouncing his pecs.

I laughed, and grabbed the base of my shirt. "Not bad, but," I pulled my shirt off, "225 here." The expression on his face was priceless. If the boulders glued to my chest weren't enough, my cannonball delts and massive bis totally intimidated, not to mention the washboard that flexed in and out with each breath.

I saw the Mule taking me in. "Ya, not bad," he said, his voice betraying the envy he felt.

"OK, then let's see what I'm up against," I chided.

He put on a fake smile. You know, the forced kind that looks phony, as he pulled up his shirt. He was ripped, but lacked the mass my extra ten pounds gave me. "And I got the wheels too," he boasted, pulling down his pants. His legs were thick an ripped. He flexed, thrusting the bulge in his posers forward. Damn, his eight inches looked good. He saw me looking and grinned with some confidence, as if that bulge were his secret weapon against me.

I pulled my pants down. "Hey, my wheels aren't bad either!" My quads were ripped and my calves as huge as ever. But the Mule's eyes weren't looking there. They were glued elsewhere. I saw his grin vanish into confusion. Don't know how my six inches did that, but somehow I seemed to nullify his secret weapon.

I won that show, out flexing the Mule in the final posedown. When it was apparent it was between the two of us, the Mule positioned himself next to me. He struck a pose showing his ripped abs and moves his leg forward, showing his ripped quads. I did the same, noticing he began to flex his globe-like glutes and thrusting his powerful endowment forward. Looking ahead so not to be distracted, I saw the judges eyes move up his tree-like leg to his overstuffed posers. I needed to get their attentions, so I feigned confidence and took a step forward, striking the smae pose and hoping my thicker, more ripped muscles would get their attention. I flexed my own glutes, my crotch moving forward outlined by the V shape of my abs and intercostals. I saw the judges heads shake back and forth from the Mule to me, deciding who was the biggest man. He came in second. We went to my room to shower and clean up. When the door closed, the Mule tossed his bag on the bed and came to me. He wrapped his arms around me, hugged and lifted me up. "Shit man, you were amazing out there. Damn, I nearly shit my pants in the pump room when you stripped."

"Damn strong too," I said, flexing hard into my own bear hug.

"Ya, I can feel that. And don't forget those posers."

"Ya, well my 6 might not be your eight."

"If you think that's 6, then I want to know what you got stuffed down there. Didn't you see the judge's reaction. You certainly grabbed their attention with that leg flex."

"But that was muscle," I objected.

"Ya, you got the muscle, but I know how to distract them with this," he grabbed his cock. "And you definitely held your own against me in that area! Come one man, take those posers off and let's do some posing man-o a man-o."

I didn't understand, but I did as I was told. Shit. I jerk off. I know what I got. It just didn't make any sense until then. I saw the mule pulling his posers off, and so did I. He turned to the mirror and struck the same pose as during the competition. I did the same.

"Shit man, if I'm bigger, it's not by much!" he said.

That's when I made my move. I pushed the Mule down, easily overpowering him, and threw us to the bed. Two bodybuilders, our trophies testiments to our superior physiques, one lying naked on the bed, and one sitting on the other's thighs. I grabbed the Mule's cock, and it hardened in my hand. It did feel familiar. "Man, it's been a long time since I saw this. But you know it's bigger than mine."

"That's what I remember too, but no way... I mean, that bulge..."

I lifted my hips and thrust my stiffening cock forward. "Go ahead big man." He didn't need to be told twice. He took my cock in his hands, and I became steel in seconds. Looking down, I could see it. My monster looked like the twin of his powershaft. The Mule's words confirmed what my eyes told me.

"Damn, you've got fucking 8 inches too!"

"But..."

"Dude, look. You're eyes aren't lying. You taking HGH or something?" He grabbed my nuts. "Shit, these things are as big as eggs. No way you're roid'n with these men. Must be pump'n out a ton to T too."

"Well, I .." I decided not to answer with words. Instead, I grabbed his wrists in my hands. He resisted but I pushed. My arms flexed to nearly 20 inches, my triceps striated with pure strength as his arms obeyed.

"Fuck!" he screamed, realizing that I was stronger than he was.

My answer was to lean my thick pecs, flexing into his as I kissed him. No need to go into more detail of how we fucked that night, but that's the first time I was called "Horse," though I prefer the other nickname he gave me. Master.

Before he left, there was one last matter to take care of. I ordered the Mule to measure me. Ya, I knew I was bigger and stronger, but I needed a baseline. In four years, I had put 3 inches on my cock. Was it getting bigger?

It was the next morning, and we had just gotten out of the shower, cleaning the layers of man sex from our massive bodies. I was sporting a semi, anticipating my next, request. No, I should be honest. It wasn't a request. It was an ordered. My first order. The Mule noticed my cock.

"Man, you're insatiable," he said, reaching to stroke my hardening cock.

I grabbed his hand. "Ya, but I think you need to do something first." I held his hand firm and flexed my bicep. "We know what the judges thought, and we know what the scale says. I think we ought to see what the tape says. I want to measure you, and then you may measure me." I spoke firm, letting him know there would be no argument. Man, the rush of commanding him and us both knowing I had the muscle to make him obey.

I stared into his eyes and saw the wheels turning. I also saw desire there, and it was that desire that won out -- the desire to take the measure of the man who just beat him. I tilted my head slightly. His eyes followed the line and saw my gym bag. He turned to walk toward it, but I held his arm for just a second too long, letting my strength stop him for an instant before letting him go. When he got to the bag, he turned to look at me, his eyes drawn to the thick forearms that had restrained him seconds before. He raised them slowly to meet my eyes, but he couldn't hide the fire raging behind them.

I matched his stare, then looked at the bag and nodded.

He found the tape on the top of my clothes. Turning again to look at me, he grinned. Without moving, he pulled a couple feet of tape free. Raising his own arm, he pumped his gun and draped the tape over top. He wrapped the tape around his peaked granite-hard mountain. "19 3/4. Almost 20," he announced, a challenge in his voice, but his eyes told the real truth. He wanted to loose.

I strutted over, my gaze never leaving his eyes. I pressed my pecs into his, my breath in his face and I lifted my arm. I flexed hard, firing my gun to display its power. "I told you to measure it," I commanded.

He stayed flexed and tried not to look, but my bicep was like a magnet for his gaze. He couldn't help but gulp at my size and definition. Ya, I wasn't that same small kid who started training with him.

The Mule took a step back, unflexing his arm and grabbing the tape. He laid the tape on my arm, maybe feeling it a bit too much with his hands as he adjusted it. "Looks like 20.5," he said. I smiled, straightened my arm, then flexed hard. I felt the tape tighten. "Shit. 20 3/4."

"That's an inch bigger than that pop-gun you got," I noted. I stepped forward, closing the distance between us, and bounced my pecs into his chest. "And now my boys want some attention." I raised my arms, and he wrapped his arms around me in a hug.

"God, you're one hot man," he whispered in my ear and he positioned the tape. I spread my wings and flexed my boys. "52," was the announced verdict. I returned the favor, but his 49 was dwarfed by my muscle. My 29 inch thighs and 17 inch calves also dominated his by a good couple inches. I have to admit, this was making me as horny as The Mule. Finally, we got to the prizes, and we were both hard as steel and throbbing. I grabbed the tape, and placed it along the top of his steel pipe.

"Eight inches, like I said," the Mule said, taking the tape from me.

I hefted my meat, and he positioned the tape. I saw the number 8 on my thick red mushroom head, and that half inch mark only slightly out of reach. "Eight and three-eighths." I felt his hand quiver, then he fell to his knees. "You win," he said before taking my meat in his mouth. I moved my hands to my hard body, feeling the weight of my dominant pecs, my prize winning bis. His hands were massaging my bubble-like glutes and thick hams. I rubbed my hands over his traps and cannonball shoulders. He pulled on my nuts and shoved a finger into my ass. It was too much, and I shot my load. He swallowed two huge gulps as his own tool let loose on the floor. He pulled off as I shot a third load on his face. As I stopped, he stayed kneeling before me, his eyes looking up. I felt like a god.

I won't dwell on the Mule. We see each other off and on. It's always the same. I'm way more muscular than he is. Ya, he's a heavyweight and got his pro card, but next to my meat, he's a runt.

After that night, I ran the experiment. Was I getting bigger? For three months, I kept a strict diet. Six meals a day. High protein. I spent 2 hours in the gym. One hour of cardio and one hour of heavy lifting. I concentrated on the basics. Squats. Bench presses. Barbell curls. Dead lifts. Rows. I didn't weigh myself or measure, but I was feeling bigger. And I was horny as hell. I was stroking my meat up to ten times a day, and shooting huge loads. Ninety days later, after I finished a killer leg workout, I bit the bullet. I didn't bother to shower at the gym, not that I don't love the guys staring at me and commenting about how huge I am, but for this, I wanted private time. As soon as I closed the doors, I walked into my bedroom and grabbed a tape. Staring into a full length mirror, I lifted my sweaty tank. Shit, my abs were bricks and the fucking shirt hugged my pec shelf and clung to my barn door lats. I forced the fabric up, but couldn't help flexing a little, bouncing my pecs as I whiffed the musky scent of my shirt. I threw the shirt on top of a stack of dirty clothes, and moved on to my shorts. Getting them over my trees was easier, and I loved the way my ripped quads looked under the fur of my legs. I stood up and hit a crab, checking myself out. Huge chest, thin waist, monster wheels and a jock strap overstuffed with my meat. I loved it.

"Time to get started, stud," I said to the image as I turned and grabbed the tape. Let's not dwell on the details. My arms were 21 1/2 then. Chest had exploded to 53 3/8. Thighs were just shy of 30 and my 18 inch diamond calves completed that package. Ya, I licked my bicep after taping it, smelling my sweaty pit. My nips got attention after I realized how big my chest was. And my cock was more than ready for its turn after I finished with my legs. The jock strap looked like it was going to explode and my iron meat throbbed with excitement. Now was the moment of truth. I stroked my meat, feeling how heavy it was. My monster grew, ready to squirt its load of venom. I took the tape, and wrapped it around the pipe. Six and a quarter inch circumference. I felt my heart race. I repositioned the tape at the base and stretch it along the length. As I saw the answer, I lost control. Globs of white juice hit the mirror as my now eight and seven-eights volcano exploded.

It was true! As my body grew, so did my cock. Working our had changed me from a small-dicked runt into a horse-hung stud. And I was gonna grow more.

Ya, it took another six years for my revenge. I don't know what you want to hear about? How I met Jake on lpsg.org and came to worship his huge eleven inch monster. Well, until mine got bigger. How I almost fucked it up with an injury, losing some of my massive size? Or maybe the how I made Robert my bitch at our tenth year reunion. It's true. I love my bod and my huge cock. Neither can be big enough.

[arpeejay]

Well, I, for one, want to hear ALL of it!

But you knew that! :-)

xoxo

Richard

[Corwin]

Originally Posted by arpeejay

Well, I, for one, want to hear ALL of it!

But you knew that! :-)

xoxo

Richard

Gosh Richard, that's disappointing. i though you wanted to EXPERIENCE all of it!

[arpeejay]

So Google has been successful in manufacturing a magic wand? I'm not suprised! Send it along, right away, there's a good fellow!

xoxo

Richard