In Corpore Sano - Part 10

[tekuno]

Turns out that the thing keeping me in occasional pain is apparently a bruised rib; how the heck did I even DO that? (Oh, well, beats an actual broken rib. Still, it means I probably have another week or two of discomfort to look forward to.) Either way, I've been sitting around a lot, so here's another part to this story built out of "well, I've got nothing better to do".

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In Corpore Sano
Part 10

This story has been completed. Content warnings and general description are included with the prologue, general commentary is in the comments following the epilogue.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Epilogue

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Paul was looking at himself in a mirror -- for which I couldn't blame him. I walked over and grabbed his shoulder and pulled him around to face me. It took a few seconds for him to stop watching reflections and focus on me.

"...uh? Scott?" As his attention focused on me, he narrowed his eyes and grinned. "You're doing well, I see. So am I." With that, he started flexing, but he barely had time to hit a pose before I had my arms around him and had pulled myself up and planted a kiss on his mouth. As I did so, I started rubbing his back muscles with my hands. Sheer sexual desire was, at that point, controlling my every move. I could no more have resisted Paul's body than I could have grown wings and flown home.

Paul staggered back a step under my onslaught. "Whoa, there, cowboy. Why don't we take this somewhere else, where we can be a little more private?" I would quite willingly have ripped off our clothes and started fucking right there, but Paul led me away before I could start. To my surprise, he didn't stop in the showers or even the locker room. He barely paused to get his stuff out of his locker, and he had to prompt me before I did likewise. In my mind I was already grinding my body against his.

It wasn't until we were in his car and driving away that he finally spoke again.

"You're really crazy for it, aren't you? You can hardly stand it, you want me so much."

"Yeah."

"Awesome." Paul gave an even bigger smirk than usual, then fell silent again. I was too busy watching his body as he breathed in and out to even try to assemble further small talk.

That was all he said. Before long, we pulled into the driveway of an expensive house in an expensive neighborhood, and Paul let us into the house. As soon as we were inside, he dropped his gym bag and whirled around, grabbing me and kissing my forehead as he started to grind his crotch into my abs.

It took all of about a hundredth of a second for me to begin reciprocating, but suddenly he pushed me away. As I looked up with a hurt expression, he once again gave his trademark smirk.

"We may as well do this properly, don't you think?" So saying, he pushed me down the hallway. I could see sparse but expensive furnishings, but the room he dragged me to was bare of almost all furniture. The floor was bare wood, with a simple, primitive rug in the middle. The only furniture was a small wooden table, on which there was what I thought was a broken and worn "praying hands" statue.

Paul left me in the room, and I examined the statue a little more closely. I wouldn't have taken Paul for a particularly religious person, but this was like some sort of prayer cell. But then I noticed that the base of the statue had no room for a second hand; it had always been a statue of a an upraised hand. As I reached down to pick it up, Paul was suddenly there again. He grabbed my hand and pulled it up -- but that was only a prelude to peeling my shirt off my body and lifting it away. Then he pulled down my shorts, freeing my still-hard cock, and had me take off my shoes and socks and stand on the rug.

In his other hand, he had a peanut-butter-sized jar of sweet-smelling goo. He started rubbing it on my chest as soon as I stood up. When spread out, it was not unlike the tanning oil bodybuilders use, but with a purplish cast. The smell was sweet and a little spicy, not entirely unlike balsamic vinegar. I tried to help him spread the stuff, but he just laughed and said "let me do the work, Scott."

He spread it all over me. I thought I would come when he reached my cock, but I didn't. Much to my surprise, he even slid his hand into my ass-crack and spread it inside, and rubbed some into my head under my hair, and through my crotch.

As soon as he finished (and I was expecting to be handed the jar), he sealed it up and tossed it aside. Surprise managed to elbow aside lust for a moment.

"Don't you want me to rub you with the stuff?"

Paul gave another of his trademark smirks. "It's just to give you a little... boost." He started stripping off his workout gear. "I don't need it."

I was hard to argue with that. Paul's proportions were beyond belief. The heaviest of heavyweight bodybuilders might conceivably have built up that kind of muscle mass, but on a smaller frame, and probably on a smaller scale. Paul was a behemoth, a towering, enormous block of beef, so huge and thick that the room, even the whole house, seemed to be tiny and insubstantial.

To say nothing of how he was hung. I've never seen a competing bodybuilder who was as big as Paul must have been. He dwarfed even me -- and with a start, I realized consciously what I had noticed for the last several weeks: my penis had been getting bigger. Part of me complained that a growing penis was not natural, that something must be wrong with me. But it was silenced by my lust. Paul was like a god, a god I wanted to worship.

I wasn't immediately given the chance -- Paul grabbed me and took control. His tremendous size wasn't just for show, he manipulated me like a rag doll, threw me face-down on the rug and started screwing my ass. It was extremely painful at first -- this was my first time, and Paul was hung larger than at least 99% of the population. But after a few minutes of excruciating pain mixed with continued lust, I started to feel some pleasure. And the pain receded, gradually, as well. I took up a stance to minimize the pain and increase (I hoped) the pleasure for us both. This brought the odd statue into view, and I found myself wondering about it again, with the parts of my mind which were enthralled with sex.

After what seemed like an eternity -- during which I started to feel no pain at all, merely intense pleasure, and a sort of increased energy throughout my body -- Paul started howling out his orgasm. He was practically incoherent with pleasure, and I could sort of tell why, given the size of his organ and his incredible stamina. As his semen poured out, his yelling reminded me of nothing quite so much as video I had once seen of glossolalia; it was like he was speaking the bones of words, but not in any language I could recognize.

He finally finished, and pulled out of my ass. I half-expected him, smarmy asshole that he was, to simply walk away, having satisfied himself, but I was mistaken there. Over the course of the next several hours, we did everything I had ever imagined and several things which were entirely new to me. I ceased to be surprised at Paul's immense stamina when I myself came for the third time in forty-five minutes through an erection which seemed to be even harder and larger than I remembered. I fucked Paul, he fucked me, we gave each other blowjobs, handjobs, pecjobs, center-of-the-backjobs (probably not possible for people without very large back muscles)... Paul taught me things about the male body which I had never discovered in more than 3 decades of living in one.

We finally completed the incredible festival of sex. It was beginning to get dark outside. As I lay back in the afterglow, feeling strangely energetic, I suddenly realized with a start that I due at work in probably less than half an hour -- and my car was still in the garage near the gym!

Paul was lying next to me on the floor with his eyes closed. He didn't respond to my questions -- I decided he probably needed a little nap, and ran back through the house to the garage. Fortunately, we had left the car unlocked. I grabbed my gym bag, hauled it into the house, found a bathroom with a shower and washed off the remains of the goo and at least five hours' worth of sweat and spunk as quickly as I could, and pulled on the clean clothing which was in the bag. I made a quick decision and, rather than trying to wake up my host, I decided to get directly to work, where I had a stash of spare clothing in case of emergencies. As I left, I heard moans from the direction of the room where we had had our orgy -- maybe Paul was rubbing yet another one out. I would believe it, after that afternoon.

I left Paul a hasty, short note, and ran for it. I wasn't very familiar with this part of the city, and I hadn't paid much attention to the route we had taken, but within a few minutes I found a major street, mercifully just made it onto a bus heading in the right direction, and got to work, ultimately, only a few minutes late.

All night, I felt incredibly good -- and the mirror confirmed that, once again, I had grown slightly, as though my pump of the morning had become permanent. My every movement felt erotic and charged with energy. It was all I could do not to flex at patrons; certainly my emergency work outfit was tight in all sorts of places -- which seemed to be good for tips.

When my shift was finally over, I took a taxi to the gym, recovered my car from the garage, and drove home. By the time I reached home, after hours and hours of amazing sensations, I was almost as charged up with lust as I had been in the morning. I stood in front of the only full-length mirror I had, and flexed my enormous, sensational muscles at myself until I came spontaneously -- and then kept going until I had jerked off twice more before I headed for bed. I could hardly wait for my next encounter with Paul; I didn't know how he was doing it, but I was becoming some kind of superhuman sex machine, and I couldn't get enough.

There were two watchers across the street when I looked out. I didn't bother trying to catch them.

Part 11

[convolution]

As he grows, so does the suspense ... that's just great