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Old April 28th, 2012, 06:43 AM
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Ultra GMan
Blessing or Curse? Chapter 17

Blessing or Curse?
by Ultra GMan

Chapter 17

Gavin looked sweaty and refreshed when I saw him at the front door. We headed in together, and as soon as the elevator doors closed I turned to him and said, "How's it hanging?"

Gavin chuckled. "A little less urgently," he said, although I could see some stirring in the front of his shorts. "Definitely feel like I sweated out a little control."

"Sweated out?" I said as the door opened and we walked down the hall to my place. "Or pumped out?"

Yeah. I'm bad. And I knew that it'd just make his shorts get a little tighter. But I needed at least one more good fuck from Gavin before he went back to his base. And I knew just what would do it.

Sure enough, as soon as the door closed, he moved his arms around me and I could feel his tongue pushing into my mouth, our tight muscular bodies up against one another. There was just something about Gavin -- his need, his body, his personality, his everything -- that made me feel weak in the knees and this was no exception. For several minutes he tongue-fucked me, that muscle of his moving through my mouth and exploring every inch with a confidence and masculinity that drove me wild. I could feel my ass twitching with anticipation, and it took almost all of my self-control to not just drop my shorts and re-enact my sex with Del, only this time with me as the bottom.

Instead, I finally disentangled with Gavin, and brought him over to the bed. His shorts had somehow dropped off during our make-out session, and his 9" penis was unsurprisingly hard and ready to go. I gently pushed him down onto his back, hitched his legs up a bit, and started eating out his asshole.

He definitely wasn't expecting that, and I heard him gasp a little bit as my tongue started working his way in. He was sweaty and warm down below and if anything that was driving me wild. After a minute or two, I was able to push my tongue in as far as it could reach, and he was making little whimpering noises. At one point I saw a hand drift up to his penis and I grabbed his wrist, holding it firmly down along the bed. He wasn't finishing himself off that easily.

A minute or two more, and he was starting to thrash back and forth a bit, gasping with each thrust of my tongue. He was ready. I pulled out, and fixing him with a look that kept him from moving, slid over to the nightstand for a minute then came back over. Gently, I took the head of his penis in my mouth... and then roughly pushed half of a vibrating dildo into his ass.

The responding moan let me know that this was a good move indeed. And as I slowly bobbed up and down his big penis, and played with those swelling balls with my right hand, the left hand worked that dildo up inside of him, moving it around and turning the vibration levels up and down.

"Oh Jesus," I heard him gasp. "Oh God, please don't stop, oh... ohhhhh... ohhhhh yeah..." And then it just shifted back into moaning and grunts, coherence a thing of the past.

To Gavin's credit, he held on a whole eight minutes before erupting in my mouth. I'm a little surprised he had that much control left in him. Gush after gush shot down my throat, and good god was he a heavy cummer. Not that I minded. He had enough seed to create a whole baseball team of little Gavins.

Once he stopped shaking, I turned off the dildo and placed it to one side, then pulled him back up off the bed and gently took off his shirt. Taking him by the hand, I easily led the slightly dazed, happily smiling Gavin into the bathroom. He quickly got the hint and tugged off my clothes, and after we kicked off our shoes we stepped into the shower, where I turned my back to the spray, my face up against the tile wall, and let Gavin fuck me one more time.

Because I'd deliberately drained him of his urgency, this ended up being an amazing fuck. He pushed in and out slowly and deliberately, and I'm pretty sure he knew this was the end of our weekend together. I could feel his hot breath on my neck as he licked and kissed me, and his arms encircled my torso, pulling on my nipples or just rubbing up and down my newly tight six-pack abs. And it just went on and on and on, to the point that I found myself wondering if we were going to drain the entire condo building of hot water.

But then, finally, our pace started picking up and then he was shooting again, gushing into me and my own dick sympathetically splattering the title with my own semen. I could feel my own body pumping up a bit all over with muscle, as if to replicate the pump that his muscles had gotten from his workout, and I moaned with pleasure.

And then, Gavin regretfully pulling out, I turned around and we kissed each other for several more minutes, but this time it wasn't the hot and heavy "I need to fuck" kissing, but a slow, passionate session, and it was amazing.

Finally cleaned up, we slowly dressed, and a thick silence hung in the air. Gavin was down to just 8" of cock, and his pants at least fit now, but he still had a bit more as a souvenir of our time together. He finally broke the ice with the comment, "So will I see you again?"

I smiled gently at him. "Absolutely."

We exchanged contact information, and then regretfully, Gavin headed out.

The rest of the morning and afternoon was fairly tame; I changed the sheets, climbed back into bed, and took a long nap. Afterwards I sat in bed and tried to do some reading, but my mind just kept drifting to that last fuck, and how great it felt. And how I wanted Gavin back in my bed and fucking me again.

Yeah, I was still horny. And needy. Which is why I ended up doing something rather stupid; I got dressed in a pair of tight pants and equally tight shirt (even more so thanks to my new physique), and headed around the corner to the Green Lantern.

A Sunday afternoon at a gay bar is often quiet, and this was no exception. After all, most aren't willing to get sloshed at 3pm. But there were a few there, and I nodded and smiled before sidling up to the bar and ordering a double whisky. I'd just finished gulping it down when I heard a voice behind me. "Well, hello there John."

I turned around and blinked in surprise. It was Owen, the lanky red-head I'd met out in West Virginia, the one that I hadn't let fuck me because I was already too big at the time. A lot flashed through my mind; that I hadn't called him like I'd promised, that he had been a little sour about me not letting him fuck me (even though I'd said I medically couldn't at the time), and that he'd had a long and thick cock.

"Owen!" I smiled. "It's so great to see you."

"I was thinking the same thing," he replied, casually putting an arm around my waist and pulling me in tightly. "It is great for you to see me."

Oh my. Where had this confidence come from?

He leaned in and gave me a strong kiss, and I could taste some gin on his breath. Aha. Liquid confidence. "How are you feeling these days?" he said. His other hand was moving down my side, and I could feel my pulse start to race.

"Pretty good," I got out, before he interrupted me.

"I mean," he added in a low voice, "how are you feeling about me fucking the living daylights out of you now? I think I've waited long enough. And damn, you feel good to me right about now."

His cock was clearly growing inside his pants, because I could feel it pushing up against me, insistently. And never mind everything I'd gone through today already. I wanted it. I really wanted it.

I tried to take control of the situation. "I thought you'd never ask," I said. "Maybe we could..."

He shook his head, then walked over to the manager and talked for a brief minute, then walked back over to me. "Follow me," he said tersely, putting a hand on my shoulder and guiding me over to the back rooms.

To my surprise, he pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked an office. "We know each other well," he said by way of explanation, then pushed me into the room and closed the door behind me, locking the door once more.

And then I was on my back on the desk and he was on top of me, and that insistent mood that I remembered from on vacation was there all over again. He was tearing my shirt open with one hand (I saw at least one button fly off across the room, although some managed to stay on as it popped open), the other one on my shoulder as he held me down, his mouth all up and down my neck, my ears, my lips. And then he was moving down to my nipples, sucking on them and then biting on them, murmuring approval at the firmness of my pecs.

"Someone's been working out," I heard him mutter, and then my arms were pulled through the sleeves of my shirt and he started working on my pants, pulling them off along with my shoes in record time. After a minute I was able to unbutton his pants too, although the zipper was already partway down, and as it turned out there wasn't anything on underneath them. His dick was looking enormously thick, and I could feel myself twitching. I was being such a little slut right now, but I didn't care, I just wanted to be fucked.

He was meanwhile rubbing my dick and balls through my underwear, and then suddenly he yanked them off too. "I'm going to fill you up," he muttered.

Well, I'll admit, that dick looked awfully girthy. But I knew that the curse meant that I could take it no matter how big it was, and I was ready and willing. Turns out that was a good thing, because as he climbed back on top of me, I could feel him pulling my legs up and his dick pushing at my rear. Foreplay, clearly, had already left the station.

As the first few inches slid in, my eyes widened a bit. God, he really was big, even bigger than it had initially seemed. I could feel my insides adjusting to take him, and honestly I think he looked a little disappointed that he was entering me as quickly as he was. I obligingly let out a groan or two; considering how he was hitting so many buttons inside of me, that wasn't too hard.

Owen started rocking back and forth inside of me, and I swear I felt his dick thicken up a little more. I bit my lip, his dick almost feeling uncomfortable it was so big, but I could take it. He started pinching my nipples, but otherwise standing along the edge of desk while I was shoved back and forth along it, stray papers sliding back and forth underneath my back. Suddenly he picked up the pace, and with each slam into me I felt like my eyes were rolling into the back of my head. It was, quite frankly, amazing. Owen had treated me like a sex object before, but that was nothing compared to now. I was essentially a side of meat, and he was having his way with me.

He started hitting into me harder and harder, and then he started cumming. I could feel blast after blast starting to splash into me. I gasped loudly and began to come myself, but right as my first spurt came out his left hand cupped the head of my dick, catching all of my cum, glob by glob. Finally I finished shooting, and he carefully brought his hand up to my mouth.

"Open up," he said. "We're not stopping until you're full of dick and cum."

I must have looked startled, because he gave a sudden hard shove with his dick into me, and I swear that dick had grown half an inch in girth and I gave out a little cry, and suddenly all of my semen was being poured into my mouth and sliding down my throat.

Considering how much I'd just cum, it went in pretty quickly, and I found myself gulping it down in spite of myself. Most of it felt wrong, somehow, but a small part of me... I guess that part welcomed it, even as the rest of me didn't like it. And then, Owen started fucking me again.

His dick was definitely thicker this time. Did he have some sort of the curse as well? I mean, his dick was growing, there was no doubt about it. (And mine, of course, had picked that inch back up that I'd lost to Del earlier today, a proud 11" once more thumping away on my abs.) I could take the extra girth, but even with the curse it was certainly getting a little more... tight inside of me. His load was shifting around inside of me as he slammed his dick back and forth, and without warning he started cumming again, multiple gushes being added to the first load. My dick obligingly came as well and, once again, Owen was catching it.

"Eat it," he said, and I wanted to protest but there was something in his eyes that made me open my mouth and gulp it down. Something predatory, almost animalistic. And as I swallowed that second hot load, I could feel Owen getting a little thicker again.

"Yeah," he said. "Gonna fill this little cum slut up."

A third load joined the first two, and then a fourth and a fifth. Each time Owen got thicker still -- it must have been bigger than a beer can by now -- but other things were happening too. First, Owen seemed more driven, more crazy the more he fucked me. He was starting to get out of control, and while a small part of me reveled in it, I was starting to wonder just how far this was going to go. And second, with each new dose of cum in my stomach or bowels, I could feel my balls starting to grow. They were getting hotter and heavier, as if they were somehow responding to all that cum inside of me and trying to match production with what was re-entering me.

With the seventh load, I started gasping and groaning. Part of it was passion; this was an amazing amount of sex, and I couldn't deny how much my body was responding. My balls were making me hornier and hornier too; I was starting to need these releases, which were coming faster and faster as Owen continued to plump up inside of me, even as my body adjusted to take it. But I was getting sore, and a little freaked out, and the rational side of me was desperate for this to end.

So as he shoved that seventh load down my throat, as soon as I finished swallowing I groaned, "No more... can't take it any more."

"All full?" Owen said, and he gave that predatory grin to me. I shivered all over, but I wasn't sure if that was fear or desire. Maybe both?

"Good," he said. "Then one... more... fuck."

And as he slammed into me for an eighth round, I started gasping and shouting out in pleasure. I was being fucked by a goddamn horse, Owen was so big around, and it was truly like nothing I'd ever gone through in my life. My head thrashed back and forth, and I swear I saw stars. Finally, after a small eternity, Owen howled and started shooting the mother of all loads inside of me, and my balls started pumping out buckets of cum. All of which, once again, was forced down my throat.

My stomach was sloshing, my balls were straining, my scrotum was aching, and I didn't know how I'd keep all that cum in my ass. But Owen finally pulled out, and I just groaned in relief as that invader finally left.

Dazed, I laid on the desk as Owen calmly pulled his clothes back on. He gave a wink at me, walked over to the door, unlocked it and strolled out, leaving it half ajar.


I carefully scooted off the desk, and shakily pulled my pants on. Except, quite frankly, there was no way I was getting them closed. My balls were enormous, ridiculously so. My underwear wasn't going to stand a chance, but zipping up would be difficult.

Finally, after several minutes of trying and failing, I glimpsed a bartender apron on a shelf, and tied that on around my waist to hide the fact that my zipper was down because my balls were so goddamn huge. (At least I was able to snap the top of my pants shut.) I slipped into the back hallway, and the manager was there, just staring and smirking at me. Great.

I wasn't sure if I should say anything or not, but after a minute he just nodded and said, "If you head that way you don't need to go through the main bar," and pointed to an employee exit.

Mumbling my thanks, I headed for the hills as fast as I could.
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