Elevator Muscle

[BBMikeNJ]

I flew out to Vegas for a long weekend this July to meet up with an old buddy of mine. He'd found a really cheap package online for a couple of nights at Harrah's, which is not the most glamorous casino in town, but at least it's on the Strip. I would normally avoid Vegas in July because of the intense heat, but I hadn't seen my buddy in a long time, so I went for it, figuring I'd be in the A/C most of the time anyway.

My buddy is more of a gambler than I am, so on the second day there, I decided to go out by the pool in the afternoon, rather than go to the casino, where he had settled in on a roulette table. It was unusually hot out, even for Vegas, but everyone said it was a dry heat, so it wasn't so bad. When I got out by the pool, I found out that that theory isn't necessarily true when it's 120 degrees in the shade. 120 degrees is an oven setting, and it feels that way when you step out into it.

The pool area at Harrah's was sort of middle of the road in terms of swankiness. OK, less that middle of the road, but they did have misters going to help cool things off. From what I could tell, the misters didn't really help much at all. I found a lounge chair, put my stuff down, and dove right into the pool. That didn't help much either. The pool water had to be 95 degrees. I got out of the pool and sat on the chair, which was under an umbrella. There were big fans set up, but the breeze felt like it was coming out of a hair dryer. I tried to use mind-over-matter, and stick it out for awhile in the stifling heat, but after about 20 minutes, I headed back inside.

The air conditioning inside the hotel felt like a miracle. I walked over to the elevators and pressed the up button. I was drenched in sweat, and wanted to go back to my room to shower off. When I stepped into the elevator, I noticed that it didn't feel nearly as cool, but I was only going to the eighth floor, so I could suffer thru it. I was the only one in the elevator, but just as the doors were about to shut, someone shoved a skateboard into the crack, and the doors opened back up.

"Hey, man, sorry about that," said the guy with the skateboard as he stepped into the elevator. He had a baseball cap on sideways, a tank top, cargo shorts and a pair of groovy skateboarder shoes. He was a couple inches shorter than me, probably around 5'7", but he was jacked up something huge. Had to weigh 240lbs, yet I could see his abs thru his sweat-soaked tank top that was sticking to his roid gut like cellophane wrap.

"No problem," I managed to say as I soaked in the size of this guy. As the doors shut, he turned to face the front of the elevator, and his huge delt was right in front of me, the biggest delt I'd ever seen this close up, all rounded and dense and looking hard as marble. As he pushed the button for the 9th floor, I said to him, "You were out skateboarding in this heat?"

"Yeh," he said, turning toward me. "Not the brightest move I guess, but there's no one out on the sidewalk, so I was cruising right down the strip. I think my wheels were starting to melt though. His face was all ruddy from the heat, and sweat was dripping off the tip of his nose and into the deep cleavage of his huge pecs.

Suddenly, the elevator came to a jolting halt.

"Whoa," said the huge skateboarder.

"That's not good," I said. I could already sense the heat rising in the small elevator car. He reached out and pressed the floor buttons again, but nothing happened. Then he put his skateboard down, put the fingers of both hands into the crack of the elevator doors and pried them apart. I stared in awe as his huge lats and traps swelled out as he opened the doors. All that was there was a wall of cinder blocks. I reached around the big dude and pushed the alarm button on the panel. Every time I pressed it, a loud bell went off outside the elevator. I noticed there was no emergency phone in the wall of the elevator.

"They gotta know we're in here now," said the muscled skater.

"My phone!" I said. I reached inside the small gym bag I'd take to the pool with me and pulled out my phone. "I've got no reception," I said as I looked at the missing bars. "I'll try to text my buddy, maybe he'll get it." I texted out that I was stuck in an elevator in the hotel, then waited for a response. "My name's Mike," I said, to break the dead silence.

"Aaron," he said. He reached out and we shook hands. God, he was huge. Probably looked even bigger because we were in such tight surroundings, but he was still huge. "Sorry I smell like an old whore," he said, sniffing his pit.

"No problem," I said, because he did smell kind of rank. "I'm probably not much better. Is it me, or is it 100 fucking degrees in here?"

"It's not you, Mike, it's hot as hell in here. I got to take off this shirt." He grabbed the bottom of his tank and started to pull it up, but he was so big, he couldn't slide it up and over his lats. "Can you pull this off for me, man?" he said, stretching his arms up.

"Sure," I said. I grabbed his shirt and tugged it over his huge sweaty muscle. I knocked his ball cap off and saw his buzz cut head. I got the shirt off him and looked at his massive torso. He was shaved smooth, and was tight as any pro bodybuilder. As I stood staring at his size, I realized something. "Your last name start with a 'C'?" I asked him.

He gave me a sly smirk. "Yeah, it does." His big pecs bounced as he saw me looking him over.

"I've seen you on the internet," I said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, man. You've packed on so much size since you started out, it's unreal."

"Yeah, I gain pretty easy. You like this?" He raised his arms into a double bi flex. Rivers of sweat ran from his pits down his side. His musclehead funk filled the elevator car. His forearms were snaked with veins, and his biceps peaked up high and hard.

"Aww, man, that's crazy!"

"I'm on a heavy cycle right now, too, so I'm just getting bigger. Wanna see my legs?"

Before I could even answer, he undid his cargo shorts and pulled them down to his ankles, exposing a massive set of quads. He was wearing black posers. Big teardrop muscles jutted out over his kneecaps. He stuck one leg out and flexed it. His huge sartorius muscle popped out across his quad, thick and swole as a boa constrictor. I had to lean back against the wall of the elevator. We both stared at his legs as he flexed them out more. Then he stepped out of his shorts, and flexed his thick bulging calves.

"How...how big do you want to get? I asked him.

"260 on this run, then see how it goes, cause I'd really like to be a grainy 285 one day."

The thought of him that big made my eyelid start to twitch.

"Legs are my best feature, I think," he said, basically ignoring me as he watched his left calf ball up like a gnarled softball.

"Or maybe it's your glutes," I said, soaking in the size of his huge rounded ass muscles.

"Yeah?" he said. "You think?" He turned sideways and pulled up on the back of his poser, exposing the maximum amount of striated glute muscle that he could. They swelled out behind him about a foot and a half.

"Sweet geezus," I said. Then my phone buzzed. I looked at it and saw that my friend had texted me back. "Says he got my text, and that the front desk knows we're here, and someone's on their way."

"On their way? Fuck, man, I'm dying in here." He was so wet with sweat, it looked like he'd just stepped out of a shower.

"Hey, I've got some water in my bag..." I reached in and pulled out half a bottle. "Here ya go. It might be kinda warm...." Aaron took the bottle and drank all the water out of it. He crumpled up the bottle and tossed it to the corner of the elevator then wiped his mouth off with the back of his meaty hand.

"Dude, you drank all the water!"

"Well, yeh, you gave it to me," he said, poking me in the chest with his index finger.

"Hey, that fucking hurt, man. What if we're here for another hour, I mighta wanted some water, too," I said, poking him back in the chest. The striated muscle of his pec didn't even dent in. "Geezus," I said. I poked into him again and again. He just stared at me. I flattened out my hand, and laid my palm against his chest. The muscle was ropey, dense, and hard.

"That's it man, take a chill. The heat's just getting to you. Besides, you don't wanna mess with this, I would fuck you up." He grabbed my wrist and rubbed my hand across his massive chest. He closed his eyes, and his nostrils flared out. I saw him getting hard in his poser.

"You like it worshipped?" I asked him.

"What you think?"

I pushed my hand up the steep slope of his big, overdeveloped traps. He leaned his head toward my hand. "I think yes," I said. I ran my hand up his thick sweaty neck. His skin was so hot, it felt like he had a body temp of 105 degrees. He raised his arms up over his head.

"Feel these lats, Mikey."

I put one hand on each side of him and felt up and down his hot sweaty lats, thick and hard as sides of beef.

"Feel the size of them, man. I swear they grow so easy. Bigger after every back workout."

I ran my hands around his lats as he spread them outward. I hugged into him as I felt the thick rolling slabs of muscle on his big back. My hands were wet with the sweat rolling down the deep crevice along his spine.

"Oh yeh, feel that size, dude," he said.

I pushed back from him enough to lower my head across his chest and into his shaved arm pit. I breathed him in deeply. His pungent roided scent was so rank it made my eyes water.

"Man, you are into it, aren't you? I haven't showered in two days, most dudes would gag smelling my funk right now."

I didn't gag. Instead, I licked him up the side of his cobra hood pit. He was right, it was pretty funky, like an old hardcore gym with the heat turned up full force. I almost came in my swimsuit.

Suddenly, the elevator jolted down about 8 inches. I fell to my knees and my face ended up pressing against his sweat-soaked poser. I rubbed my cheek against his hardon, despite the fear I had that we might plunge even more. Aaron looked around the elevator as it creaked and groaned.

"Hey, I think we might start to move soon," he said. I stood back up, a little wobbly. "You OK, Mike?"

"Yeh, I'm good. It's just the heat. I think I might be a little dehydrated." I mopped my face off with his wet tank top. It smelled like him.

"You should drink more water," he said with a smirk.

"Uh huh." I got a text from my buddy saying that he was in the lobby, and that they almost had the elevator fixed. I shook my hardon down as best I could. Aaron put his shorts back on just as the elevator started down.

"We should finish this up later," he said, pulling up his zipper. "I'd love to trip out muscle pig like you." He grabbed my crotch and squeezed it just enough to get me swelling up again. He let go just as the doors opened on the lobby level. I picked up my gym bag to hide my boner from the elevator technician who was standing there, along with the hotel manager. Behind them was my buddy, who looked at me, then at Aaron, then back at me again like "wtf?"

Aaron picked up his skateboard and stepped out of the elevator. "Is there anything I can get you?" asked the manager. "Nah, dude, I'm good. But can you show me where the stairwell is, I'm gonna jog up to my room, I need a shower bad."

"It's the doorway right over there," said the manager, pointing to the left. Aaron put his ball cap on backwards, then headed in that direction, and we all watched his huge glutes as he waddled his way to the stairs.

"Wow," said my buddy. Then he looked at me. "You alright, Mike? You don't look so good."

I was a little lightheaded, but had actually never felt better in my life. The manager was talking to me, but I wasn't really paying attention. The thought of Aaron jogging up eight flights of stairs, then getting in the shower, was keeping me preoccupied. My buddy handed me a bottle of ice cold water, and I gulped down half of it, but saved the other half and put it in my gym bag, just in case.

The hotel ended up comp'ing me my room, which was cool. I hung out in the casino with my buddy during the rest of the weekend, but I couldn't concentrate on anything but looking around for Aaron to pop up. He never did. I prowled the hallways of the eighth floor, but only once. I didn't want to feel like a stalker. As the weekend came to a close, I pulled his pics up on my iPad, but they didn't do him justice. He looked so much bigger in person.

I left Vegas feeling like I had unfinished business there. I closed my eyes on the plane as it took off, and thought of him. Maybe one day, I'd get stuck on an elevator with him again. Only this time, he'd be 285.

[iceman75]

Wow, that was a great read! I like the idea of a muscle worshiper stuck in a limited amount of space with a guy that has huge, ripped muscles, I like the dynamic of being there with an object of worship and trying your best not to lose your mind. I'm hoping we see Aaron again, to see if he reaches his goal, or even goes over that goal. I'd also love to see how strong he is.

[vlad]

Any day with a new story from you, Mike, is a great day!

[arpeejay]

http://www.facebook.com/arpeejay

[Mad Dog]

Really fun and intense. Alas, it was also brief.