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Old August 13th, 2009, 06:29 AM
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Best Buds (Part 7)

By Richard Jasper

Part 6:

Part 5:

Part 4:

Part 3:

Part 2:

Part 1:

* * *

James' parents were seriously freaked out when their one and only son, still no more than 5'7" tall, returned home for the summer weighing 200 lbs. of solid, quality muscle.

"Steroids!" they accused.

So James went back to see Dr. Barclay, who gave a whistle and shook James' hand before doing all the tests. Barclay knew enough about adolescent endocrinology to realize James' growth was just within the realm of humanly possible.

"So I'm doing this more for them than for you," he told the strapping 19 y.o.

The test for steroids came back negative but James' testosterone level was off the scale, even for his age.

"It's sort of like you're going through a second puberty," Barclay marveled. "Without the additional growth in height. I ought to be writing you up for a medical journal! And if I recall correctly..."

James blushed.

"Yeah, doc, you recall correctly," he pointed out. "Last year I was hairless as a chihuahua."

Barclay chuckled.

"And now you'd give a gorilla a run for his money! Your voice is deeper, too, right?"

James' dad, who despite being two inches taller than his son now looked rather like a scrawny (albeit hirsute) teenager next to James, who outweighed him by 60 lbs., admitted with some embarrassment, that, well, yes, he'd gone through the same late adolescence "late puberty," too.

"I guess it runs in the family, huh?" James asked.

His dad nodded -- and then he and James' mom promptly left town for a 3-month "research study" in Idaho, leaving James to his own devices. They were clearly uncomfortable with his lumbering presence.

James heaved a sigh of relief when they were gone: with them out of the house, he could eat as much as he wanted, when he wanted, and he could spend hours in the gym without having them on his case about it.

A week after he got back home and the day after his parents headed to Idaho, the phone rang:

"Meathead," came the cheery voice on the other end.

"Oh," James said. "It's you."

John had sent an e-mail to James every day since returning to his parents' house and thus far James hadn't replied to single one of them.

"How's it going, big guy?"

"Why are you asking now?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"You're really pissed, aren't you?"

"Ya think?" James asked in a sarcastic tone. "You left without saying good-bye, dammit. And don't give me that 'it's a long drive' line; I can use Mapquest as well as the next guy. You could have left at noon and still been home by supper time. I was back at our room by 8 a.m.!"

John did what he was good at in those situations -- he changed the subject!

"So how was the dance? How was Kelli? Did Blake give her any trouble?"

James snorted.

"No, he didn't give Kelli any trouble," he replied.

Uh oh, John thought.

"So did he give YOU trouble? You didn't get into a fight, did you?!"

James laughed.

"Yes and no," James answered. "Yes, Blake did give me trouble; no, we did not get into a fight..."

"Uh, you'll have to clue me in, Big Guy, I'm not following."

James pondered a moment.

Do I tell him?

Hell yeah!

"Turns out big Ol' Blake and I have something in common," James said.

"Aside from muscles?" John asked.

"Oh, it's about muscles," James replied. "But it's something else we have in common."

John thought about that a minute.

"You don't mean...?"

James laughed again.

"Uh, yeah, I do mean," James continued. "Blake does a great impression of the uber-straight jock but the fact is he's gay as a goose. He wanted me to plow his big ol' football player butt!"


"Hey, John, you there?"

John's voice sounded shaky.

"Uh, yeah, Meathead, still here, just dropped the phone because, uh, the dog was chasing the cat and they knocked the base station off the counter..."

James smiled inwardly. He knew for a fact that John had (1) a big-time, "off to the ER" quality cat allergy and (2) an elderly beagle that couldn't chase its own tail, much less a cat.

"Did you, uh...?" John finally asked.

"Hell, no," James blurted. "You think I want my first-time to be with a drunken lout like that?!"

Damn, James thought, wincing. TMI!

For the first time in the week since he'd left Wyndham, John broke into a big smile.

Oh ho! he thought.

"Well, buddy," John said, finally. "I'm really sorry about missing you that morning but the 'rents were giving me hell and I thought, what the heck, I'm gonna see him again in four months, plus there's the phone, and, oh, yeah, this cool new thing called the Internet!"

James winced again.

"OK, OK," he replied. "I know I've been bad. But, well, ya know, I was just plain pissed off."

John apologized again, and James apologized for being pissy, and John asked what was up, and James told him about going to see Dr. Barclay and how his parents had taken off.

"Ya know," John said. "Now that you mention it, your voice IS a lot deeper than it was when I met you last year. I guess I just never noticed because you kept getting bigger and it just sorta seemed to match."

James was a bit too embarrassed to mention the hair. He thought it was hot but he had no idea what John, who wasn't smooth but no hairy ape, thought about it.

"Of course," James pointed out. "If you ever want to come up here, there's plenty of room. I've got the run of the place and no commitments other than gym and the grocery store."

The silence that followed was long enough for James to begin to wonder whether they'd been disconnected.

"Well," John said slowly. "I'd have to check with my parents, and, well, I'm guessing they're not going to go for it, especially since we're having this big family reunion thing and they've all got me running around like a decapitated chicken doing chores for them."

James sighed.

"Well, OK then," he said. "I guess I'll see you in August. Offer still stands, though. Just let me..."

John cut him off.

"Yeah, August will be great, Meathead, hey, I gotta run, it was great talking to you, they just won't let up on these chores, ya know?"

"John, there's something...



James put the phone down, crossed his big thick arms across his beefy chest, and contemplated his hairy toes for a long a time.

Then he went to the gym

* * *

The summer passed quickly for James and John. What John hadn't pointed out to James was that he was spending more time than ever in the gym, boosting his calories, and just trying to get BIG.

"I don't need to be fast, I want to be BIG," John told himself every morning. "James can do it, I can do it."

For his part, James' insane rate of progress only accelerated. With no distractions, he was totally free to lift, eat, drink, shit, piss, lift some more, eat some more, sleep A LOT, and start over.

"And grow hair," James said looking down at himself. "By the end of the summer..."

By the end of the summer, John was quite pleased with his progress: 20 additional pounds of solid muscle.

Fuck, John thought, looking at himself in the mirror. I did it! I'm the same size as James!

He cinched in his cobblestone abs, squared his big broad shoulders, locked his thick meaty lats into place, and gave himself a double bi shot.

Eighteen inches cold -- I wonder what James will think of these puppies!

Of course, as soon as the thought crossed his mind John started wondering, as he did ever day, just how much bigger James had gotten. Here he was all pleased with himself that he'd gained 20 lbs. over the summer but that freak had put on fucking 85 lbs. in eight months during their freshman year.

C'mon, John told himself. He can't really be maintaining that pace.

The only other thing bumming John was that he still wasn't nearly as strong as James had been back in May. He was just as big and built as James had been then but John was only benching 385 lbs.

Only, John said, shaking his head.

It occurred to John that adding 70 lbs. to an already respectable bench in just four months time was nothing to sneeze at. For that matter, how many 19 y.o. guys benched nearly twice their body weight?

Not many, he concluded.

But it wasn't 475 lbs., which was what James was benching in May. It just wasn't, well, freakish.

Like James, he added to himself.

Like John, James was curious, too. John had been keeping him up-to-date with his progress, both in terms of his muscle and strength gains, but whenever James bugged John for pictures the latter resisted, saying he wanted to see pix of James first!

"Hey," James said, at one point. "You can come up here anytime you want."

John changed the subject again and eventually they stopped asking each other.

The third week of August John unlocked the door of the 10th floor studio / efficiency university apartment he and James would be sharing that year. It was 1.5 miles from the middle of campus, the best a couple of low-ranking sophomores could get at Wyndham, which gave preference to freshmen and upperclassmen, not sophomores.

James had already taken the right hand bed and desk set up, as evidenced by the books, the laptop, and the inevitable collection of Star Wars action figures mixed in with the latest Lego confections. Luggage, though, was on top of the bed, still unpacked, and the shower was running.

"Yo, Meathead," John called out, poking his head inside the steamy bathroom. "I'm here!"

"Hey hey hey," James called over the din of the splashing water. "Glad you made it, Buster, out in a minute."

Damn, John thought, his voice is really rumbly now. When they met last year James' tenor was almost falsetto compared to John's pleasant baritone but it sounded, well, deep now.

A couple of minutes later, John was fussing with his duffel bag when he heard the bathroom door open and a pair of thick feet trotted into the studio's open living / sleeping area, followed by a deep-bassed "Yo." John turned to his roommate and...

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, and involuntarily sat right down on the bed.

James was dressed in a bath towel only and...

My God! John thought.

James was totally frickin', pro bodybuilder huge.

"You OK, little buddy?" James asked, stepping towards his friend.

John looked up at James' looming form. It occurred to him that James was still no taller than his own 5'7" but...

"Yer a fuckin' gorilla, man!"

James blushed and scratched his mammoth chest.

"Well, uh, yeah, about the hair and all, I guess it runs in the family," he said, shrugging shoulders the size of mountains. "I tried shaving it off but it took fer fuckin' ever and grew back even thicker."

James paused, an apprehensive look on his ruggedly handsome face, a face sporting thick sideburns and a five o'clock shadow, even though it was only noon.

John looked James up and down, as if seeing him for the first time.

"You're hairy? Oh, you're hairy! How cool is that?! I always wanted to be that hairy myself but I guess I'll have to be content with the economy package!"

Whoosh, James thought. That's a relief.

"But I wasn't talking about your fur, doofus," John continued. "You could be as smooth as a baby's behind but you'd still be as BIG as a fucking gorilla!"

John stood up and began moving his hands across James' body, taking in the width of his shoulders, the breadth and thickness of his chest, the jutting overhang that loomed over James' equally cobbled abs.

"Fuck," John said again. "How much...?"

It occurred to John that James' hands were crawling over his body, too.

"250, man," James confessed. "I gained 50 lbs. over the summer."

John staggered but James caught him -- it was like being held by granite.

"I already knew how much you weighed, thanks to all those e-mails," James said, hugging his friend. "I knew you were going to be bigger and more muscular. I just didn't realize how fucking much HOTTER you would be. How did you get to be MORE handsome?"

John barely heard what James said.

"Where the hell is my tape measure?"

James turned and unzipped a pocket on his gym bag.

"Here," he said. "Use this one. You inspired me to buy one."

The next 20 minutes were surreal for John. He measured James' forearms, biceps, neck, shoulders, chest, waist, quads, calves. He had trouble adjusting to James' new size, having to try over and over again to get the tape into place. But, God, the numbers:

Forearms, 19 inches.

Biceps, 23 inches.

Shoulders, 66 inches.

Chest, 60 inches.

Waist, 32 inches.

Quads, *33* inches!

Calves, 22 inches.

"You are," John said at last. "The biggest, most muscular man I've ever seen in my life."

James smiled and pulled his friend close. The hair on James' massive torso was as soft as lambs' wool, almost as thick, and warm as an electric blanket.

"You like it?" James asked.

John had spent a lot of time thinking about the kiss that James had given him that spring night before heading out to the dance with Kelli (and Blake.) He'd thought about it a lot.

He'd thought about all the girls he'd dated.

He'd thought about all the times he'd gotten off.

He'd thought about the fact that in all that time he'd never managed to get laid.

He'd thought about the many times he was really close to getting laid but thought of some excuse to run away.

He'd thought about that first time James had picked him up and how his dick had instantly gotten hard.

He'd thought about the fact that he never really had made a connection between what he was thinking or looking at and whether his dick was hard or not.

He'd thought about James A LOT.

And every time he thought about James, the same thing happened:

His dick got hard.

He remembered being stunned by James' muscles and by the sight of James' huge back leaning over his bed that last spring night.

He thought about James and he put his hand on his hard dick and when he did it exploded.

Every night.

All summer.

John wrapped his strong, manly hands around James' brahma bull neck and pulled James' face to his own.

"Meathead, the truth is," John said. "I fuckin' like it a lot."

John had a LOT of practice kissing. By his count, he'd kissed about a hundred girls since he'd turned 12. He'd kissed so many that he was a good kisser; such a good kisser, in fact, that some girls nearly got off on it.

Now he kissed James.

He kissed James the way he kissed Lori and Shannon, the two who had made him stop kissing because they were soaking their panties and his hand was between their legs and they were gonna cum if he didn't stop and good girls didn't cum on the first date, did they?

Except for the kiss he gave John in May, James had no practice kissing anyone other than his parents and the occasional odd, musty old relative, but John wasn't aware of that detail. What he received from James was every bit as impressive as James' incredible body.

They pulled apart at last.

"Can you deal with it?" James asked.

John nodded.

He was ready to find out.

[Thanks for bearing with me! I'm having too much fun writing this! More to cum...]

Last edited by arpeejay; August 13th, 2009 at 12:57 PM.
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Old August 13th, 2009, 07:45 AM
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Thanks for pumping out the chapters, Richard! It's been a great ride so far!!

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Old August 13th, 2009, 08:16 AM
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Ok rp...

... now you've got me on the edge of my chair with this... Damn this is good!
- TagsNOLA
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Old August 13th, 2009, 09:48 AM
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Now it's getting really interesting. :3
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Old August 13th, 2009, 11:31 AM
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Well I had figured that John was bi but like a lot of guys unwilling to accept the gay side since he was happy to be with girls... even though he was never able to maintain a relationship for long despite frequent dating. We now get a couple of facts despite the cocky Jock stud image John didn't go in for one nightstands and so had never actually slept with a girl. So this would suggest that John is gay and was unwilling to accept the possibility until now.

I had said earlier that I liked the buddy nature of John and James relationship and that it didn't involve one of them subjugating the other. I personally ike the notion of relationships between equals based on mutual respect the dignity of both parties and hope that will continue...

Okay, I want the world to be a fair and nurturing to everyone an everyone is happy and feels personally fulfilled and the world isn't like that... but wouldn't it be great if it was?


Last edited by Ender; August 13th, 2009 at 11:39 AM.
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Old August 13th, 2009, 11:35 AM
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Now you know why (a) I'm very gently discouraging towards the guys (and there are plenty, now that I think about it) who want to call me "Sir," and (b) I tell the guys who want to put me down where to get off.

For me, it's all about reciprocity, whether it's in the real world -- or the fantasy one.


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Old August 13th, 2009, 03:00 PM
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Excellent. That was great. Just the right tone and all the fill in we needed from John. And of course, the Stats. Keep Writing.

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Old August 13th, 2009, 06:32 PM
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glad u told me to re read ch7. I'd missed the best part!
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Old August 14th, 2009, 05:55 AM
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Hey there Richard.

That is one of the best stories of read. Very erotic without being blatant about it. You, my friend, have a true talent for writing. It's always a pleasure reading your stories.
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Old August 14th, 2009, 07:42 AM
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I like kissing : )
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