The Gardener (Part 18)

[Reeza]

Author's Note: This chapter contains more significant muscle growth than I have so far depicted in this story, along with the usual drama, romance, humor and gay sexual activity. And something gets destroyed . . .

Previously on The Gardener . . . Adam and Sam had lunch with Flora and Agnes. Just a simple lunch. Hardly any drama.


The Gardener
by Reeza

Parts 1 and 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

The Fourth of July was on a Monday that year, so Sam and I were both going to be off work for two days in a row. When I heard people in the office talking about their plans for the holiday weekend, I realized that we didn't have any special plans. Not that we wouldn't enjoy each other's company at home, but I was beginning to wonder if we should go out more often. After our exciting afternoon with Flora, we had agreed to spend more time with her and Agnes, but Flora was going away for the weekend with one of her friends. I suspected it was Clarence, the salesman from the car dealership, but I didn't ask.

Every Friday, Donna enjoyed asking me if I had plans for the weekend. She knew I never had plans, and that the question got on my nerves. That's why she kept asking. "So . . . what are you doing for the Fourth? Are you and Sam going anywhere? Do you have big plans? Are you having a party?"

"Nothing, no, no, and no."

"That sounds exciting. Gays have the most fun, don't they? I envy you."

"Why don't you come over? We'll have a cookout." That will shut her up.

It did shut her up. Briefly. She pressed her hand to my forehead. "How long have you been feeling ill?"

"I'm not ill. Stop touching me."

"You've never invited me to your house. You've never even accepted an invitation to my house."

"I'm growing and changing. Besides, I was at your house once. I met Kevin."

"You came to drop off a client file! You were there for five minutes."

"That doesn't count?"

"No. And we already have plans for the weekend with Kevin's sister, so let's plan it for another weekend."

"Uh . . . it doesn't work that way. The invitation was for this weekend. If you can't make it . . ."

"You only invited me because you knew I would have plans already! You're so full of shit. How about July 17th? We're free that day."

"I don't have my calendar with me. We might have plans."

"No you don't! Now you're pissing me off. I'm gonna call Sam and arrange this." She pulled out her phone and started searching through her contacts.

"You don't have his number."

"Yes I do."

"He can't invite people to my house."

"He can invite us to his apartment. Maybe you won't be invited." She started dialing.

"Okay, fine! July 17th, then. What do the two of you eat?"

She put away her phone. "Uh, don't forget about my kids."

"Oh . . . would they be coming?"

"Why wouldn't they be coming?"

"Are they gonna touch my stuff?"

"What stuff?"

"You know . . . all my stuff. Are they gonna ruin my flower beds?"

"Adam, they're not feral pigs! They're my children. I raised them right. God! This is the worst invitation ever!"

"Alright, but they'd better not break anything."

"They're not gonna break anything!" She paused. "Okay . . . if they break something, I'll pay for it."

I shook my head. "I knew this was a mistake."

"Well, you're not backing out of it now! I don't care if the apocalypse comes, we'll be at your house on the 17th."

"I already hate having a social life. This is exhausting."

"Being your friend is pretty exhausting, too. It's a good thing I like a challenge. I need to get back to my office before Zipinski sees us together."

"That's right. At least you didn't molest me this time."

She whispered, "But in my mind I was licking you in private places."

"Eeew! Go away!"

She was about to leave when she turned back to me. "By the way . . . have you heard any rumors about anything around here?"

"No. Why? What did you hear?"

"Nothing, but . . . it seems like some of the women on the staff are acting weird around me. Like they're hiding something. Maybe I'm imagining things, but . . ."

"Maybe they're planning a party for you."

"If they're planning a surprise party and you don't tell me about it, I will kill you. You know that, right?"

"Yes. It's already on the list of death threats I report to the police every week."

"Are they all from me?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'll see you next week." She started to walk away.

"Hey, Donna?"

"What?!"

I took a deep breath and forced myself to say, "I appreciate your friendship."

She looked at me for a minute. Her chin started to quiver. "God dammit." She walked away.

My therapist had asked me to work on expressing my feelings.

***

On Saturday, after a productive day of working alone at the office, I headed home, looking forward to spending two whole days with Sam. I changed into a t-shirt and shorts and started to prepare dinner. When he got home from the nursery, he greeted me with a nice hug, but I could tell right away that something was wrong. "Are you okay? You seem different."

"I'm fine, but . . . I found something you're not gonna like. I don't like it either."

"What is it?"

He pulled a piece of paper out of his back pocket and unfolded it. "I saw this tacked to a light pole down the street."

It was a flyer with a photograph of my house, with me standing on the porch holding a basket of flowers, and Sam standing next to me with his hand on my shoulder. The bold text underneath said, "IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT ON EDEN PLACE? PROTECT OUR CHILDREN!!!"

My head started to pound. "That fucking weasel bitch! She can't do this!"

"That's what I was thinking, but . . ."

"I'm calling the police. There has to be a law against this."

"Let's just think about this first, Adam. What are the police gonna do?"

"I don't know! Arrest her? Give her a ticket? At least they can talk to her!"

"But we don't have any proof that she did it. I know she did, but we can't prove it."

"She can't get away with this!"

"I don't know. It doesn't really say anything specific."

"It's implying that we're child molesters, Sam! What the fuck?! Aren't you angry?"

"Well, yeah, I'm angry! But I don't wanna fly off the handle and make things worse! You shouldn't either. We both need to control our tempers. Besides, you're in the middle of cooking dinner, and I'm hungry."

"How can you even think about food after seeing this?"

"I can always think about food. C'mon, Adam, let's just eat first and figure out the best way to handle this. I wanna go change my clothes. How much time do I have before we eat?"

I sighed heavily. "Twenty minutes." My mood had shifted to the dark side, but I could see the wisdom in calming down before taking any action against the Weasel Woman. Sam went to the coach house while I finished preparing dinner. When he returned, his hair was wet from a shower and he was wearing a skin tight gray t-shirt and a snug pair of cotton gym shorts. My mood started to improve.

We ate without much conversation. I hesitated to discuss the flyer because I knew it would make my blood boil, but eventually I came up with a prudent approach to the situation. "I should talk to a lawyer and find out what we can do about this."

Sam nodded. "That sounds like a good idea. Do you know a lawyer?"

"No, but I'm sure Flora does. We wouldn't be able to do anything until after the holiday anyway."

"Yeah. I don't want this to ruin our time off. I was looking forward to the holiday."

"Me too." I watched him lift two serving bowls to empty the last of their contents onto his plate. His biceps and shoulders bunched and rolled, stretching his tight shirt. I never got tired of watching that. "Um . . . any particular reason you're dressed like that?"

"Like what?" He said this with just a trace of a smile.

With a doubtful look, I replied, "I'm not buying that innocent act anymore. You know what I mean."

He grinned and confessed. "I like the way you look at me when I wear a tight shirt."

"Oh? How do I look at you?"

"Kind of like a starving man would look at a turkey dinner. It makes me feel good." He continued to eat.

"It makes me feel pretty good, too." I smiled. "You're not as self-conscious as you used to be."

"Not around you, I'm not. With other people . . . the staring gets to me sometimes."

"I suppose it would. It's hard for me to imagine what that would be like."

"Adam, people look at you, too. You just don't notice them."

"Really?"

"Yes. I see it all the time when we're at a store or wherever."

"Sure, but then they see you and their jaws come unhinged."

"Shut up." He blushed. "Actually, there are people like that. They make it so obvious, it's embarrassing."

"If you went out in that shirt, people would be drooling."

"No, I wouldn't go out in this one anymore. I'm only wearing the really tight clothes for you."

"Thank you very much. I appreciate it." I liked the way his thick nipples pressed against the soft gray fabric.

"It's a good thing I'm not eating as much as I used to or I'd be busting out of everything." He was cleaning his plate.

"Whataya mean? You just ate about five pounds of tilapia. I haven't been making less food."

"Is that what that was? It was really tasty." He rubbed his taut belly. "I know I eat the same here, but I used to eat a lot more when I worked at the restaurant. Now I eat a normal lunch. I usually go to Subway with Greg and get a foot-long."

"What? Not the party size sub?"

He smirked. "I wish! Greg razzes me enough about the foot-long. He only gets a six inch sub. After the way things ended at the Harbor View, I'm always afraid people are gonna start asking questions about how much I eat and how jacked I am."

"Jacked?"

"Y'know . . . muscled."

"Oh. Jacked . . . you certainly are jacked."

"You think?" He playfully flexed his arms and chest for me. "After we do the dishes, I wanna show you something."

"What?"

"You'll see." He stood up.

"What?!"

"Don't be so impatient!" He raised his arms and stretched. His shirt rose up to expose his defined abs and tantalizing treasure trail. He lowered one hand and scratched at the line of hair.

My mouth watered. "You're not exactly making it easy to be patient!"

He feigned innocence. "What? What am I doing?" He adjusted the semi-erect cock that was tenting his shorts. "Let's get these dishes done!"

We cleared the table and I quickly filled the sink with soapy water. As I washed the dishes and Sam dried them, he pressed his thigh against my hip. It made me smile as I recalled an earlier time in our relationship. "Do you remember the first time you did that to me? I really freaked out."

"Was that the night I told you I was gay?"

I thought about it. "Yeah, I guess it was." It was a bitter-sweet memory.

"That was when you made that five-alarm chili. It was snowing, and you invited me in for the first time."

He was right. "It seems so long ago already. Did that all happen in one night?"

"Yeah. It was a big night for me."

"For me, too." I thought about whether I should tell him how it affected me. Yes, you should. "I cried after you left. I sat on the floor and bawled like a baby."

"Really? Why?"

"I'm not sure. I was afraid you would feel rejected, and I felt bad about that. I wished I could have told you that I was gay, too. I think I wished I was a completely different person. Someone else. Someone who could meet a beautiful young guy and have an honest conversation with him. Someone who was happy." It was making me sad to remember it.

Sam waited for a while before saying anything. "Did your wish come true?"

Did it? "Well . . . I came out to you eventually, and I'm having an honest conversation with you now. I'm not a different person, but I'm happy. Things turned out better than I could have hoped."

"I'm glad you're not a different person."

It was a very nice compliment. "Thanks."

"I was pretty sad that night, too. I was so intimidated, I didn't think I would ever be good enough for you."

"What? You've gotta be kidding! How could you be intimidated by a fucked up mess like me?"

"I didn't see you that way. You were this hot older guy with a good education, a great job and a great house. Why would you want some penniless farm boy waiter with a high school diploma? It's a good thing I had a pretty face or I wouldn't be here now. Things turned out a lot better than I expected, too."

"It boggles my mind that you didn't think you were good enough for me when I didn't think you would look twice at me. I'm still not sure that I deserve you. I wish you had more faults so I didn't think you were too perfect for me."

He snorted. "You want me to have more faults? Be careful what you wish for!"

"Why? Are you gonna start leaving your dirty socks on the floor or something like that?"

"Yes! Why didn't I think of that? I'll start that right away."

"Great. You seem more human already." I gently butted him with my shoulder. "One thing I know you'll never do is leave dirty dishes lying around. You're a dish washing freak."

"See . . . there's another fault. They're adding up now."

I rinsed the last pan and handed it to him. "Y'know, Sam . . . I don't care what the Weasel Woman does. Nothing she can do would ever make me give this up. She can put up all the flyers she wants to. I don't care if people believe what she says. I'll still want to wash dishes with you. And other stuff, of course."

"Aww! I'm glad to hear you say that. That's what I was thinking, too. I'm not letting someone like that tell me how to live, and I'm not running away."

"By the way, just a reminder, you're not here because of your pretty face. I admit, that's what got my attention at first, but it's not what makes me love you." I kissed his thick triceps.

"Thanks, Adam." He smiled and kissed me on the forehead, then wiped the counter top before hanging up the dish towel. "So . . . if my appearance doesn't matter, I suppose you won't be interested in what I was gonna show you." His eyes twinkled.

"Well . . . now that you've made me curious." I rubbed my fingertip over one of his nipples and watched it rise. "I'm sure it'll be boring, but I'm willing to see what you've got to show me." I smiled innocently.

He palmed the back of my head and gave me a slow, deep kiss. When he was done he said, "You're so cute."

"I know."

"Do you have an old towel in the basement?"

"Umm . . . what a romantic thing to say. I do have some old towels down there. Why?"

"Let's go down there and I'll show you." He led me down the stairs.

"Did you build a dungeon down here while I wasn't looking?"

"Ooh, good idea! But, no. Did you see the pull-up bar I put in?"

"I did, and I've been using it. I'm getting stronger. I'll be able to beat the crap out of you pretty soon."

"I'll look forward to that." He gestured towards the bar. "Let's see what you can do."

"Really?" Shit! I wasn't expecting to be tested. "Okay, if you say so." I stretched my shoulders and stood under the bar. "I start with pull-ups and then I switch to chin-ups."

"Good thinking. Do you want me to boost you up there?"

"Sure, as long as you're offering."

He stood behind me and put his hands on my waist. "You enjoy this, don't you?"

"Very much." He lifted me smoothly and effortlessly until I had a grip on the bar, then he let me hang. I pulled myself up as many times as I could with good form. When I started to waiver, Sam put his hand under my butt.

"Try a couple more with me assisting you."

"Okay." I was able to pull myself up three more times before I was exhausted.

He grabbed my waist and supported my full weight. "Switch your grip and continue with chin-ups."

I did as he suggested and completed more chin-ups than usual with his assistance. My muscles were burning pleasantly when he set me on the floor. "That felt good!" I was breathing more heavily from the exertion. "Exercise is more fun with a hunky trainer."

Sam stood in front of me, reached under my arms and felt my lats, squeezing them gently with his large hands. "Can you feel the pump in your muscles? Do they feel a little swollen?"

"Yeah, they do." I liked the way he was touching me.

"I can tell you've been exercising more. You're more toned and you're filling out a bit. You've gained some weight." He bent down and licked the side of my neck, making me smile and squirm. "You're so sexy, I'd like to carry you up to your bed right now. But that's not what I had in mind." He patted my chest with one hand. "Now feel me the way I just felt you." He lifted his arms to give me access to his lats.

I furrowed my brow. "Okaaay." I put my hands on either side of his chest and slid them up and down his thick lats. His body always felt warmer than mine, and he smelled good.

"Pay attention to how big I am, and how tight this shirt is."

I raised one eyebrow. "Somebody is certainly full of himself this evening."

He smiled. "Just play along, okay?"

I gladly continued to feel the muscles of his torso. Every part of him seemed to be twice the size of my corresponding parts. I loved to compare our bodies like that, but I wasn't sure where he was going with this.

"Alright, have you got me memorized?"

I gave his pecs a squeeze and said, "I believe I do."

"You might wanna fetch that towel, now."

"Why?" I went to get it anyway.

"You'll see." When I returned with the towel, he put his hands on the pull-up bar. "And take off your shorts and underwear."

"What? This is getting weird." He bent his knees, letting himself hang from the bar, and crossed his legs at the ankles. The joists supporting the bar groaned about his weight, but continued doing their job of holding up the floor above our heads. When he started pulling himself up, the seams of his tight t-shirt tore open under both of his armpits. He started cranking out perfect wide grip pull-ups with smooth, controlled movement. Blood rushed to my crotch, and I understood that the towel was for the mess I was about to make.

I continued to watch Sam as I unbuttoned my shorts and let them drop. I stepped out of them and removed my briefs. I didn't need to touch myself to become fully erect. Standing as close as I could without getting in his way, I watched his muscles expand with each contraction, pulling his shirt tighter and tighter across his chest and back. I lost count of how many pull-ups he had done, but he didn't slow down.

"Do you see what's happening, Adam?"

"Yes," I croaked.

"It's like that pump you got in your muscles, except more. A lot more." He stopped, uncrossed his legs and put his feet on the floor. Letting go of the bar, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, then stretched them to either side. I heard another ripping sound from his shirt. "Come here and feel me again." He stood with his hands on his hips.

I didn't need to be asked twice. I raised my trembling hands and placed them where they were before. His enlarged body was hot to the touch. His lats were huge and hard, and his shoulders looked like piles of rocks. My thumbs explored the deep caverns of his armpits through the torn openings in his shirt. As I ran my hands over the sides of his chest, he inhaled deeply and the seams of the t-shirt surrendered a few more inches. He exhaled his hot breath and smiled. "Pretty neat, huh?" The understatement of the year.

"Awesome!" was all I could say.

"I'll do some chin-ups now. Do you wanna ride along?"

My eyes widened. "Whataya mean?"

"Wrap yourself around me. It''ll add some weight."

"Oh my God! Will that bar hold both of us?"

"Yeah. I made sure it would be strong enough."

"Well . . . I'm . . . yes! Let's do it!"

"You might as well take your t-shirt off."

"You're right." I jerked my shirt over my head and threw it on the floor. "I'm probably gonna come all over you."

He grinned. "That's my goal. Do you want me to get rid of my shirt, too?"

"No! I want you to get so big that it just falls off."

"I'll do my best." He lifted me so I could wrap my limbs around him. My arms didn't encircle him as easily as they normally would, but I managed to get a grip. He reached up and grabbed the bar with his palms turned inward. As soon as he lifted himself off the floor, his body was as hard as stone, but his muscles stretched and contracted under his skin in ways that rocks never could.

I watched his biceps swell into huge globes of elastic power as they pulled us toward the ceiling and smoothly lowered us, over, and over, and over again. His sleeves tried to escape from the aggressive expansion of his arms by riding up to his shoulders, but the t-shirt started to disintegrate around his massive deltoids and traps. I could hear the threads popping along the seams while my throbbing erection was stimulated by the flexing of Sam's abs and the slight scratchiness of the hair that ran down the middle of his torso. His body was generating a surprising amount of heat. Our perspiration lubricated our skin, allowing us to slide against each other.

He just kept going, up and down, up and down. I knew I wouldn't be able to maintain my grip on the slippery mass of muscle and bone for long, but when I expected him to start slowing down, he seemed to be speeding up. His strength and stamina were astounding. "Sam, aren't you getting tired?"

He took a breath and replied in a low voice that rumbled in his chest, "I don't get tired. I just get stronger."

I thought I would empty my balls then and there, but I pressed myself against his body and clenched every muscle in the vicinity of my pelvis while holding my breath. When I was sure that I had succeeded in delaying my orgasm, I said, "I wanna feel your muscles again before I come."

He lowered us one last time, straightened his legs, and let go of the bar. As I slid off his body and steadied myself, he tugged at his sleeves, which were intact but almost detached from the shirt. He was barely able to stretch the right one over his swollen upper arm, demonstrating how much larger it had become. He grasped my hard dick between the two middle fingers of his left hand, cupping his palm under the head, and flexed his right biceps. The sleeve popped like a balloon. His arm was huge, with a thick, pulsing vein wrapped around the bulging muscle. My knees quivered and I blew my load into his hand.

Sam seemed to be impressed by his own arm as he pumped it a few times. "Damn, that feels good!" He tore his eyes away from it to look down at the offering I had made. He lowered his right arm to wrap his hand around the back of my neck, then raised his left hand to lap my semen off his palm, just inches from my face. It was such a hot move, it caused me to release another viscous string of jism that hung from my aching dick. When he saw it, he reached down to collect it, and licked that off his hand as well. He still wasn't finished. He wiped his wet palm on the side of my face and cleaned the areas between his fingers by dragging them along my stubbled jaw. When his hand was clean enough, he started licking my face with his strong, broad tongue. He paused long enough to whisper, "I love the way you taste." I closed my eyes and enjoyed it.

When he had finished grooming me, he kissed my mouth and took a step back so he could destroy the other sleeve of his shirt. He tore that one gradually, with a slow, intensely concentrated flex of the biceps. It brought my erection back to a full salute, which he noticed. With a playful smile he said, "You like my muscles?"

"You're incredible, Sam." I grabbed his arm with both hands and felt its stony hardness while he flexed it for me. "I can't believe how much bigger you are."

"I know. Now you can see why I couldn't work out at the Harbor View anymore. Even when I used light weights, people started to notice the pump I would get." He raised both of his arms in a double biceps pose that made me a little dizzy. I watched him casually tear the tattered shirt off his shoulders. The lower part of the shirt was not torn because his tight waist was so much smaller than his chest. He gathered it into his fists and ripped it in two with one powerful jerk, discarding the rag on the floor. Everything he did was fucking awesome, but he didn't seem to realize it. "Hey, I wanna do my chest. Will you help me with some push-ups?"

"Okay, but how can I help you do push-ups?"

"Same idea. Just climb on my back to add some weight." He moved onto the rubber mat near his weight bench and assumed a prone position on the floor.

"I would love to do that. Why do you still have your shorts on?"

"I can't do push-ups with my boner pointing down. It would get in the way."

"Or you might damage the floor." It was a joke, but the mental image was stimulating. I carefully laid myself face down on top of him with my dick nestled between the firm globes of his cotton-covered ass. His broad back provided plenty of room for my more narrow body. I reached around his swollen lats and put my hands on his chest.

Sam pushed himself up, keeping his back perfectly straight. "Here we go." He inhaled as he slowly lowered himself to the floor, then exhaled as he pushed up. His pectoral muscles contracted and expanded with each movement. I started to count his push-ups, but I lost track somewhere in the fifties because I was distracted by the way his chest felt. Apart from the heat his muscles produced, his pecs were growing larger, filling my hands with their broad curves. His nipples stood out more against the hardened flesh, giving my fingers something to play with. When I squeezed them he grunted, so I did it again.

"Your chest feels huge, Sam. How big are you planning to get?"

"Do my pecs feel big enough?"

"Big enough for what? They're big enough for my wildest fantasies, if that's a measure of anything."

"That sounds pretty good. Let's see what they look like." He lowered himself to the floor so I could get off his back, then he hopped to his feet, looking even more energized. His chest was magnificent. Two gleaming mounds of pure strength stood out from his rib cage, with a deep crevice between them. When he stretched and flexed them, striations appeared along the thick curves. He put his hands over his pecs and felt them. "Wow! Nice! Whataya think?"

"Get your hands out of my way." I had to touch them. I pressed my palms into them and found that my fingers didn't indent the muscle when I tried to squeeze. I slid my hands around, then stuck my nose into the hairy valley between the two mountains, inhaling his unique scent. I pressed my open mouth against his smooth, hot skin and tasted him. I licked each of his nipples a few times. I had run out of superlatives to describe his masculine beauty.

He looked pleased. "I'm guessing that you approve."

In reply, I kissed his chest while my eyes wandered up to his rocky shoulders and over to his massive biceps. "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm." I looked into his eyes. "Could we go up to my bedroom, now? I'd like to worship your cock in gratitude."

He laughed and blushed.

I patted his dense pectorals, admiring the sound it made. "What does it feel like to be pumped up like this?"

"Oh God, Adam, it's the best thing I've ever felt!" His face radiated bliss. "It's like my whole body is about to splooge, and I feel like . . . like I could uproot a tree or something. I feel so fucking energized and strong, and the heat is just pouring off me. There's nothing like eating a big meal and then pumping up my muscles like this."

"Wow! I'm glad you like it that much, because I'm pretty fucking thrilled to be witnessing it."

"You're the only person who's ever seen me like this."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah. Do you think I could show this to just anyone? It's just like my strength. People can't find out about this."

"I hadn't really thought about it. I guess you're right. How long does it last?"

"About six hours. Maybe eight if I get really pumped. That's why I have to be careful about when I do this. Can you imagine if I went to work like this one morning?"

"Wait . . . wait . . . I'm picturing it. I wrapped my hand around my dick and squeezed."

"Adam!" He laughed and pulled me into his chest, surrounding me with his superhero musculature. He kissed my forehead, my temple, and my ear. Then rested the side of his face against mine. "I love being with you."

"Likewise, Superman."

He snorted. "Stop that." He released me from his powerful embrace. "Lemme just work my abs for a few minutes, then we can go upstairs."

"I won't complain. Do you need me plastered against your body again, because I'm more than willing."

"No, thanks. Not this time. Sorry." He walked over to the pull-up bar and reached up. "Stand back. I'm gonna swing my legs around." I backed up a few steps. "Oh, wait. I could take my shorts off now, if you don't mind looking at my big horse cock." He smirked and started pulling off the tight gray shorts.

I grinned. "I love it when you're proud of your body! You should talk like that more often. Around me, I mean. Only around me."

"I'll keep that in mind." He freed his stiff prick from the shorts and it slapped against his flat belly. I decided to help him peel the shorts off, so I knelt in front of him and tugged at the legs. As long as I was down there, I leaned in and kissed the base of his dick, just above his balls. "Hey!" he said. "You can have that later." He stepped out of the shorts and put his hand over his junk. It only covered the bottom half of his erect shaft. I licked my lips, then stood up and backed away.

He grabbed the bar and lifted his legs, bringing his knees up to his chest about ten times. Then he straightened his legs and slowly raised his feet almost to the ceiling! It looked like something a compact Olympic gymnast might do, not a six-foot-five hulk.

"Holy shit, Sam! How can you do that?"

"I just can. I made the mistake of doing this at the health club once. Everybody stopped and stared at me. I didn't realize it was supposed to be so difficult." He repeated the move about ten times with fluid grace, then he started rotating his hips at the top of the lift, swinging his legs back and forth like the arm on a metronome. I couldn't believe my eyes. When he was finished, he lowered his legs and held them perpendicular to his body for a minute while he flexed his abs. They were thick biscuits of muscle with deep grooves between them.

He put his feet on the floor, let go of the bar and ran his hands over his ripped midsection, dragging his fingertips between the muscles. "This is so cool."

"No, it's fucking hot." I stood in front of him and stared at his abs.

He put his hands on his hips. "Do you wanna punch my gut?"

"Are you kidding? I'd break my hand! I have other things in mind. Unspeakable things." I took hold of his cock and pulled it towards me. "C'mon! Upstairs . . . right now. I can't take any more of this. My balls hurt." I tried to tug him towards the stairs.

"You're so romantic! That must come from all those books you've read." He allowed me to lead him forward.

When we reached the foot of the stairs I turned off the basement lights. "None of my books have anyone like you in them. I'm making this up as we go."

"I never would have guessed. You're not gonna drag me up the stairs by my dick, Adam."

"It's mine."

"Oh, really?" He smiled. "You're lucky we're in your house tonight or I'd have to punish you for that." He scooped me up with one arm and held me against his body, then surprised me by motor boating the junction between my neck and shoulder. It made me laugh like a child because it tickled. And it was pretty damned cute. "Now I'm gonna take you upstairs and you're gonna show me that gratitude you mentioned earlier."

"Okay." I smiled and stroked his cheek as he carried me up to the bedroom.

***

I woke up from a sound sleep and realized that Sam said my name.

"What?" I rubbed my face and looked at my clock. Three-thirty-six.

"I heard something outside." He was looking around for some clothing to put on. "Do you have anything that would fit me?"

"There's a pair of your shorts and a t-shirt in the next room. What did you hear?" I sat up and switched on a lamp.

"I'm not sure, but I'm gonna check it out. Where are those shorts?" I got out of bed and walked into the adjacent room, pointing to the clothes he needed. He quickly stepped into the shorts and buttoned them, then tried to put on the shirt. I heard a rip. "Oh, fuck it!" The rising light from the window revealed that the shirt had split down one side. The look on his face brought me to my senses. "Adam, call 911! There's a fire!" He ran out of the room as I realized that the glowing light was not the rising sun. It was too early.

I hurried into the bedroom and picked up my phone, dialing with trembling hands while I looked for something to wear. When the operator picked up I started yelling my address and said, "Fire!" She asked me to calm down and I wanted to kill her. I set the phone down and just kept repeating my address and that one word while I pulled on a pair of jeans. Finally I heard her say that help was on the way. I picked up a shirt and the phone and looked out the back window. The garden shed, the one that Sam had carefully restored, was engulfed in flames.

I ran down the stairs, putting the shirt on at the same time. The phone slipped out of my hand and bounced down the stairs toward the tile floor at the bottom. It made a sickening sound when it hit, and, accountant that I am, I immediately had the cost of a new phone in my head. I picked it up and saw the shattered glass, but heard the operator asking me if I was okay. I said I was as I raced through the living room, dining room and kitchen. The back door was ajar, doorknob torn off, jamb splintered, and the window cracked. Sam, in his haste, must not have controlled his strength.

I saw him moving across the driveway in the firelight and I went out onto the porch. I could see that the shed was already destroyed, but I was worried about the fire spreading to the house or the trees. I called out to him, "Get the garden hose!"

He yelled back, "Somebody cut it! It's useless!" We both stood there, helpless, wanting to do something but unable to stop the fire. I heard sirens and an air horn, saw flashing lights, and a firetruck pulled up on the street next to the house. The firemen were quick. In no time at all, they had a hose aimed at the burning shed and the surrounding area, but the shed's cupola, with it's trumpeting angel weather vane, fell through the roof before the flames were extinguished. A cloud of sparks and embers blew high into the air. The tree closest to the shed had started to burn, but the fire was put out before it could spread. The house was safe, my garden was mostly intact, and Sam had his arm around my shoulders.

***

Representatives from the fire department and the police department were there until the sun came up, asking questions and writing reports. They knew it was arson, but they had to wait for an official ruling. After looking at the back door, the police assumed that someone had broken into the house. Sam explained that he had done it, but that made them more confused and suspicious. While we sat at the kitchen table, the older of the two officers said, "Are you telling me that you broke out of the house, not in? I don't get it. If you live above the garage, what were you doing in the house?"

I tried to brush that aside. "Look, he didn't break in or out. He was rushing outside to do something about the fire. He's a strong guy, there was a lot of adrenaline, he broke the door. Big deal. It's not an issue." Sam looked up at the officer, but said nothing.

The officer stared at him, but spoke to me. "But . . . what was he doing in your house in the middle of the night?"

I took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. "He was staying with me because I invited him to stay here. What else do you need to know?" My irritation was showing.

The younger officer spoke up. "Mansky, could we just stick to what's relevant?"

Mansky snarled back at him, "Yeah, of course you're not suspicious of him. I could see that coming." Sam continued to glare at him, silently. I saw his arms twitch.

The younger guy, Hanson, continued. "You mentioned that you had a problem with a neighbor recently. Could you tell us more about that?"

I stood up, retrieved the flyer that Sam had brought home, and showed it to Officer Hanson who passed it to Mansky. Mansky's lip curled. "I don't get it. What does this mean?"

I raised one eyebrow. "I don't know. What do you think it means if someone is distributing this in the neighborhood?"

"It looks like they don't want you here. Are you a registered sex offender?"

"No." I clenched my jaw. "But you already know that, don't you? I'm sure you looked me up already."

Mansky said, "I was asking him." He was looking at Sam.

Sam said, "No." That's all. I was getting worried.

Hanson asked, "Do you know who's distributing these flyers?"

"Yes. Her name is Helen Van Wootten. I'm not sure which house she lives in."

Hanson wrote it down. "Can I keep this flyer?" I nodded. "Can you think of anyone else who might have a grudge against you? Have you had any other conflicts recently?"

"Yes," I remembered. "Big Ed O'Neill."

Hanson and Mansky looked at each other. "Okay. What was that about?"

I thought carefully about how to tell the story. "His mother lives in the house next door. We're friends. She invited us for lunch last Wednesday, and while we were there, he showed up uninvited. He argued with his mother, she asked him to leave, but he refused. So she asked Sam to show him out. And Sam did that. Big Ed resisted, but Sam took him to his car." Unfortunately, as I was telling this story, Sam chose that moment to crack his knuckles. I gave him a stern look.

Hanson asked Sam, "Is that what happened?"

Sam answered him in a softer tone. "Yeah. I showed him to his car. He didn't want to leave, so . . . I made him leave. It could have been worse."

"What do you mean?"

Sam looked Mansky in the eye. "He's not dead." There was a long silence.

Mansky spoke. "I think we have everything we need. If we have any other questions, we'll contact you." He moved towards the door, but turned to look at Sam again. "If you don't mind a little advice . . . you might wanna keep your private life more private. People don't wanna hafta think about what you people do to each other."

Sam stood up from the table and squared his shoulders. He looked pretty bad-ass in his torn t-shirt, his skin smeared with black soot. I scurried around the table and stood in front of him, pasting a smile on my face. "Thank you, officer. We'll consider your advice."

Sam growled, "Watch your step as you leave." I pointed to the door, and Mansky left, satisfied that he had penetrated Sam's skin.

I gave Sam my sternest look, the really scary one. "Maybe you should go upstairs and wash up." He breathed a couple of times and looked down at the floor. He glanced up at Officer Hanson, then turned around and left the room.

Hanson pulled out one of his cards and handed it to me. "I'm sorry about Mansky. He's an asshole. That shit he was giving your . . . Sam . . . that was aimed more at me than at him. He doesn't like being partnered with a gay guy, but the chief didn't give him a choice."

Wait . . . what was that? Hanson is gay? He was good looking. Clean cut, well built, masculine. I wouldn't have guessed he was gay. Pretty hot, actually. "Umm, okay. That must be awful for you."

"It's not easy, but you know how it is. There's always some asshole who wants to give us shit.' He smiled. "I've never seen you at any of the bars. Are you new here?"

"Uh, no. I've lived here since I was a kid. This was my parents' house. I don't get out much."

"Too bad. Great house. How long have you two been . . ."

I was feeling awkward, but it was hard to turn away from a good looking guy who was friendly. This didn't happen to me every day. "A while now. It's good. We're good." I looked at my feet. I didn't have any shoes on.

"This always happens to me," he said. "I meet a great guy, and he's already taken."

"Heh. Sorry." I couldn't even look up at him.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just thought . . . why pass up a chance to meet somebody, y'know?"

"Uh huh. It's . . . I'm . . . flattered. Really. But . . ."

"I get it. I hope things work out for you, but if they don't . . ." He tapped his finger on the card in my hand. "Keep me in mind. That's all I'm saying."

"Okay. Thanks. Thank you very much." I managed to make eye contact for a fraction of a second.

Mansky yelled from outside, "Hanson! C'mon!"

"We'll let you know if we come up with any leads, okay? And you can call us if you think of anything else that might be relevant." He headed for the door.

"Okay. Thanks again." I shook his hand.

"Carl. It's Carl, by the way."

"Oh. Okay." I nodded. "Bye now."

"Bye." He left.

Oh my God! What next? I stuck his card on the refrigerator and headed upstairs. Sam was in the bathroom, shirtless, leaning against one of the sinks and staring at a towel he was holding. "Hey," I said.

"Hey." He didn't look up. "What did he say about me?"

"What did who say?"

"Carl. Did he tell you about us?"

"Carl? About . . . us? Who?"

"That we met before. Did he tell you he knew me?"

"No. He didn't. You knew him? From where?"

"He was a member at the Harbor View. I used to see him working out. We . . . messed around once."

"Oh." Oh! "I see."

"Just once. It didn't mean anything. It was before you and I were . . . y'know."

"Well, you didn't have to tell me that. What happened before us is . . . your business."

"But if I kept it a secret and it came out later, it would look like I was hiding something. So, I was gonna tell you as soon as he left."

"Okay. That makes sense." I stood next to him and leaned against the sink. We were quiet for a couple of minutes. "He seems like a nice guy. How come you didn't . . . mess around more?"

"He is a nice guy, but he's not my type. He's not like you. He wasn't really into me either. It was just sex."

"It's hard for me to imagine anyone not being into you." I really couldn't imagine it.

Sam affectionately nudged me with his shoulder. "That's why I always feel good when I'm with you. You only see good things in me. Even the bad stuff looks good to you. Not everybody sees me that way. I'm really not that way."

I nodded a little. "I was afraid you were gonna deck that other cop."

"I wanted to. You handled yourself very well. I was impressed."

"Yeah, I surprised myself. He was such an asshole. Hanson even said so after you left. He apologized."

"What else did you talk about?"

"Umm . . . how they plan to follow up. He gave me his card in case we think of anything else. And he was admiring the house."

"I'm sorry about the door."

"It's okay. How did that happen?"

"I was rushing . . . I didn't turn the knob far enough before I pulled." He shrugged. "I'll fix it for you. I think there's another doorknob in the basement."

"I'm gonna miss that shed. You did such a beautiful job on it."

"I know, I'm really pissed about that. It was the one thing I could give you, and now it's gone." He shook his head.

It took a moment for the meaning of his words to sink in. It made tears come to my eyes. "Sam . . . you've given me so much more than that. The shed was great, but . . . you've done so much more." I stroked the underside of his forearm. "Let's go back to bed for a few hours. We're both tired."

"I need to do something about that door. Anybody could walk in."

"It can wait. I'm not worried with you here."

"That's nice, Adam, but I won't be able to sleep. I'll just go down and put something heavy in front of it."

"Like what? The refrigerator?"

He smiled. "No. There's that old radiator in the basement. That'll work."

"That's too . . . never mind."

"What were you gonna say?"

I smiled. "I was gonna say it's too heavy to bring up the stairs. Then I remembered. It's not."

"No, it's not." He stepped away from the sink and handed me the towel. "I'll be right back."

As he left the room I said, "I would offer to help you, but . . ."

"I know. I've got it." He went down the stairs.

I turned around and looked in the mirror. I looked terrible. How could Hanson be attracted to this? I used the towel to wipe some black streaks off my face. I wondered if I should have told Sam that Hanson was hitting on me. I didn't see any point in giving him another guy to feel jealous about. I left the towel on the sink and walked into my dressing room where I shed my clothes and dropped them down the laundry chute. I crawled into bed and waited for Sam.

A few minutes later, he came into the bedroom. "No one will be coming in that door. Or going out, I guess. Except me. I can fix it this afternoon."

"Yeah, don't worry about it. Just come to bed."

He took off his shorts and left them on the floor, then lay on his back next to me. "From now on I need to make sure I have clothes here for an emergency. Something big enough to fit me if I'm pumped up."

I snuggled up next to him, putting my head on his chest and my hand on his abs. I played with the hair around his belly button. "It looks like you're back to your usual extra-large size."

"Carl was probably wondering how I got so big since the last time he saw me. I have to be more careful." It was going to take him a while to settle down.

"Just try to relax. We're okay." It seemed strange to be telling him not to worry. He usually did that for me. "Our Fourth of July certainly started with a bang."

"I guess you could call it that." He pressed his arm against my back. "Who do you think it was?"

"I don't know. It could have been someone we've never met."

"That's true. People we don't even know can hate us. Great!"

I rubbed his belly. "After we sleep for a while, I'm gonna make you a huge breakfast. I'll stuff you until you can't move. How does that sound?"

"I need to fix the door. I want you to be safe."

I was starting to worry about him. "The door will get fixed, Sam. We'll be okay. You're doing everything that you can do to keep us safe."

"Will it be enough? Do you think it'll happen again?"

"I don't know, Sam. I don't know. But, you know what would help me right now? If I could just listen to you breathe. It's easier for me to fall asleep when I can hear you and feel you breathing. It's so soothing. Could you do that?"

"Sure. Do you want me to spoon you? I like that." He wanted to do something for me. Maybe he needed it.

"That would be perfect. It feels so good to have your arm around me at night. I could fall asleep anywhere as long as I have that." I rolled over and let him pull me against his body, spread his hand on my chest, and nuzzle my neck.

"How's that? Are you comfortable?"

"That's perfect. Thanks. You feel so good. I don't know how I ever slept before you came along." I listened for his breathing. "That's right. Just breathe. A nice, steady rhythm. Nice and slow. That's nice."

It did feel good. I felt comfortable and safe. I loved having his arm around me. But the most important thing that morning was that he fell asleep before I did.

Then I could sleep.

*****

Continued in: Part 19

Postscript: Thanks for all the wonderful comments on the last chapter. Agnes was a big hit! I really love it when readers tell me what they laughed at or cried over. That's very gratifying.

Here's a look behind the scenes of The Gardener: Agnes was a spontaneous addition to the story when I realized Flora wouldn't be doing all of her own cooking and house cleaning. I made her Scottish just because I wanted them to have cranachan for dessert. That's how the magic happens, folks!

[portamivia]

Oh shit. So hot.
The funny thing is that I've been thinking of two scenarios I'd like to see in this story. The first is burglars in the house, and Sam easily taking them on. Almost eagerly so.
And this chapter came very close to that.

As for the other, well, one can dream, right? I'd love to see one day Sam lifting up the front of Adam's truck. I'm sure he can do that easily.
Thanks, as always, for this new instalment.

[hardmuscl4life]

That was really marvelous... I'm not sure how you produce a chapter, week after week which is just so chockablock full of stuff. This time, you managed to create what was for me, a riveting story around two guys doing the dishes and having their property vandalized. That's pretty basic stuff and yet... It was funny and sad and joyous and heart wrenching...at times simultaneously. Thanks again for what really has become my favourite story here.

Many thanks
George

[sonic260]

Sweet, a new chapter the last day before school starts!

[cutlerfan]

Wow! Another great chapter! I hope it is revealed who did the vandalism but I know it wasn't random. Hopefully Sam will catch the guy and 'demonstrate his strength'.

[flamedelft]

And something gets destroyed . . .

Yes, and it was my brain. Now excuse me as I will sit in this corner over here and wait until the next installment to this masterpiece.

[Tibo]

Another wonderful instalment, Reeza!

I always enjoy Adam's interactions with Donna. They really could/should/are close friends. I also liked the small hint at Henry's works in the backgrounds. I wonder what he's done.

Sam should definitely get pumped more often! (and maybe grow a little while he's at it )

Oh and of course the fire! I wonder if it was Big Ed or the weasel woman, or maybe just a stupid kid, who knows? *glares at Reeza*

I wonder if we'll hear something about "Carl" again. It would be interesting to some more interaction between him and Carl and maybe Adam *-*

[nnnrg]

Oh geez. And officer McBigot is not going to help things at all. So. Waiting to see whether this was because of Big Ed, the Weasel Woman, or some neighbor who got all bent out of shape by the nonsense that WW was spreading.

What would be hilarious? If they formed a neighborhood association, and voted Adam or Sam to the board and kicked Weasel Woman completely out of it.

[Mdlftr]

Awesome! I loved the muscle growth and all the rest of it. The mystery of the fire, and what the "weird looks from the women at work" all mean - you have a first class muscle growth - relationship - mystery on your hands!

Interesting that Sam showed a bit of a temper /hard assed side here.....

Great job, Reeza! You done good!

Mdlftr

[Reeza]

Originally Posted by Mdlftr

Interesting that Sam showed a bit of a temper /hard assed side here.....

So, breaking Big Ed's rib in the last chapter wasn't "hard assed" enough for you? Damn! Are you in solitary confinement in a state penitentiary, or something?

[worshipper]

Perhaps it might be interesting to have him in a pie eating contest with an eating champ?

[Mdlftr]

Originally Posted by Reeza

So, breaking Big Ed's rib in the last chapter wasn't "hard assed" enough for you? Damn! Are you in solitary confinement in a state penitentiary, or something?

But he was SMILING when he did it! In Chapter 18 he got his "grumpy cat" face! [And all HUGELY pumped up, dripping sweat and slinging our hero around!]

[weaknobody]

Reeza, thanks again for another AMAZING installment!

I swear, if I had this whole story (even if it reaches 50 or more chapters) I'd read it all in one sit! You really know how to get us hooked. Henry!!!!!!!! What is Henry doing????

I took a deep breath and forced myself to say, "I appreciate your friendship."
She looked at me for a minute. Her chin started to quiver. "God dammit." She walked away.
My therapist had asked me to work on expressing my feelings.

Laughed out loud at this! Apparently Adam is really improving on his social skills. I'm so proud of him. He even LOOKED at Carl after he hit on him! And he accepted it! And he didn't question it! And he didn't feel insecure or jealous that Sam was involved with someone attractive previous to him! Oh, I'm so happy for Adam.

He grinned and confessed. "I like the way you look at me when I wear a tight shirt."
"Oh? How do I look at you?"
"Kind of like a starving man would look at a turkey dinner. It makes me feel good." He continued to eat.

There's nothing hotter to me than self-confidence. Even a little bit of arrogance, really. I may be reading too much into it but the little grin on Sam's face gave away how much he enjoys being Adam's Superman. And I won't even comment on the parts where he puts up a show. I feel that if I read it again it will be like the first time I will have to stop my comment here to wash myself... (sorry, too much information).

And yet, out of all the "sexy" this chapter is filled with, you still manage to slide some of the cutest, most adorable moments ever. Adam's statement of how much Sam's brought to his life is just a small example.

Wow... I wanted to comment more and more and I could discuss each paragraph and tell you how wonderful it is. But that is already implied, right? =)

[HugestFuckGod]

They really should get security cameras. They seam like the creative people who would...

[Reeza]

Originally Posted by HugestFuckGod

They really should get security cameras. They seam like the creative people who would...

No, they would disagree with the aesthetics of the house and deprive me of a suspenseful plot device.

[Reeza]

Originally Posted by Mdlftr

But he was SMILING when he did it!

No, Sam was not smiling when he broke Big Ed's rib! He was in a murderous rage and had to be talked out of injuring him more seriously. What story have you been reading? Are you cheating on me?

I might have to start quizzing you after each chapter Mdlftr. Or maybe you should write a one page essay on how the main characters developed in each part.

Now, for your punishment, I want you to go back to the beginning and read the entire story. Then make a list of all the times Sam's temper/anger were hinted at or shown. And I want it by 8:00 AM CST, 1/15/14.

I was educated by bitter old nuns. Don't make me hit you with the wooden ruler.

[Mdlftr]

Originally Posted by Reeza

No, Sam was not smiling when he broke Big Ed's rib! He was in a murderous rage and had to be talked out of injuring him more seriously. What story have you been reading? Are you cheating on me?

I might have to start quizzing you after each chapter Mdlftr. Or maybe you should write a one page essay on how the main characters developed in each part.

Now, for your punishment, I want you to go back to the beginning and read the entire story. Then make a list of all the times Sam's temper/anger were hinted at or shown. And I want it by 8:00 AM CST, 1/15/14.

I was educated by bitter old nuns. Don't make me hit you with the wooden ruler.

Forgive me for I have sinned, Sister! Can I say five "Our Fathers and 5 Hail Marys" instead? I'm also praying for all the souls of the lost babies in Limbo and I've already prayed my grandparents out of Purgatory on All Saints Day!


Now, as far as the assignment goes: It is true that Sam manhandles Big Ed when he breaks his rib. There is NO indication of his facial expression during the actual act of breaking his rib. Only later in the description does it say that "Sam's expression softened". There is actually no description of his face or his expression. The reader is left to infer that Sam must look angry, based on his actions.

So I took interpretive license when I read the section, thinking that a feral grin would be in character for Sam -- so sue me! Just don't get near me with that ruler! And I'm NOT kneeling on a pencil! You can send me to the principal's office first!

Mdlftr, whose patronal feast day is March 23rd.


The relevant section is here:


<snip>

About half way through the competition, I became aware of some commotion on the terrace. I slowed down and kept my head above the water, trying to see what was happening. There was a man. A conflict. I stopped swimming and went to the edge of the pool. It was Flora's son, Big Ed. Fuck! Sam was still swimming, unaware that I had stopped. I kept my head down and listened.

I heard Flora's voice. "Edward, you are not welcome here today! Please leave, or I will be forced to call the police."

"You care more about those faggots than you do about your own son? Go ahead and call the police! I donate equipment to their department every year. Let's see who they listen to." He sounded drunk.

Agnes spoke. "Shall I call them, ma'am? I think I should." I could see that she had a broom and was ready to take a swing at him.

"Why don't you hop on that broom and fly back to hell, ya old hag! You don't scare me."

The next thing I knew, Sam was launching himself out of the pool a few feet away from me. Shit! I pushed myself up and went after him. "Sam! Wait!"

He yelled, "Hey asshole! Remember me? How's your hand?"

I managed to get in front of him. Leaning into his chest, I pushed as hard as I could against the tower of twitching, slippery muscle. I wasn't stopping him, but he probably didn't want to knock me over.

Big Ed baited him. "C'mon, ya big faggot! Let's do it so I can get you arrested this time!"

"Edward!" Flora yelled. "You will not insult my guests without consequences! Leave here this instant!" She stood up from her chair and steadied herself with her cane.

Sam tried to pick me up and set me aside, but I wrapped my legs around him. "Get off me, Adam! I can take care of this!"

"I know! That's what I'm worried about!" He tried to peel me off, but I kept wrapping my limbs around him in one place or another.

Agnes was standing guard between Big Ed and the two of us, but it didn't stop him from taking a step forward. "Jesus Christ! They're having sex right in front of us, like fucking animals!" Agnes swung the bristled end of her broom and hit him on the side of the head, enraging him. He grabbed at the broom and pulled it out of her hands, causing her to lose her balance. Falling backwards, she landed on her well-cushioned behind.

Sam couldn't be stopped after that. "Let go of me, Adam, or I'll take you with me!" Before I could dismount, Flora stepped forward and cracked her son on the kneecap with the silver handle of her cane. The sound of the impact made it clear that she didn't hold back.

Big Ed buckled from the pain. "You fucking bitch! I'll kill you!"

I hustled Flora out of the way as Sam rushed in, ramming Big Ed with his shoulder and picking him up in the same movement. Without slowing down, he carried him forward and slammed him against the brick wall of the house with a resounding thud. Ed was called 'Big' for a reason, but his weight didn't seem to challenge Sam's strength. The wind was probably knocked out of him, so he wasn't struggling when Sam picked him up again and slammed him against the bricks, pressing him into the wall with his feet dangling above the ground.

I hurried over there to prevent Sam from going too far, and heard him growl at Ed. "I will crush your fucking chest if you disrespect these ladies again."

Ed snarled in my direction. "You mean this little faggot lady?"

Sam pressed his thumb into Ed's bloated torso. I heard the dull snap of a cracking rib. Ed's suppressed cry of pain revealed less than the tortured, hateful expression on his sweaty red face. He didn't speak."Sam, that's enough," I said. My heart was pounding furiously against my own ribs.

Flora approached with Agnes at her side and angrily addressed her son. "Edward, you have reached a new low point with your shameful behavior. We could involve the police in this if you would like to do so, but the publicity won't help your campaign for the city council any more than I will."

The hostility in his eyes never wavered, but he had no choice but to concede defeat. He curled his lip at her and sneered, "Yes, Mother dear."

"I promised your father that I would let you run the car dealership, but I'll break that promise without a moment's hesitation if you cause any more trouble for me or my friends."

He snarled again. "Yes, Mother dear."

Flora looked into the eyes of her only child. Maybe she saw something other than the anger and hatred that were apparent to the rest of us. It was difficult to imagine what she might be feeling. "Alright, Samson. I believe Edward will leave now."

"Not yet." Sam wasn't done with him. "He needs to apologize."

Big Ed looked at him defiantly and said nothing. An evil smile distorted his lips.

I was very worried about how this would end. I didn't care about Ed, but Sam could ruin his own life with the twitch of a muscle. "Sam . . . his apology won't mean anything. Just let it go."

"It'll mean something to me." His biceps flexed and expanded. "Apologize, you fat turd!"

Flora cautioned him. "Don't sink to his level, Samson. You're better than that. Let him go."

"Aye, dearie. You've done enough."

Sam's expression softened and his arms started to relax.

<snip>
Then Ed drew a breath and spat in Sam's face. Sam lifted him and slammed him against the wall again. The two ladies shouted, "No!" Instinctively, I threw my arms around him and pressed my face against his back. "Please, Sam! Please! Don't let him win!" His chest expanded and contracted, and I could feel his heart thumping. I begged him, "Please don't leave me, Sam!"

After a few more deep breaths, Sam spoke in a low rumble. "I'm just gonna take him to his car, okay?"

"Is that all you're gonna do?"

"Yes," he hissed.

Cautiously, I withdrew my arms and stepped back. Sam released Ed and let him drop to the ground, then he roughly grabbed the back of the big man's shirt and raised him to a standing position. He marched him across the terrace and around the side of the house while I followed them. When the ladies could no longer see us, Sam held onto the back of Ed's shirt with one hand and lifted him until he tipped forward and his toes were barely skimming the ground. He would have fallen flat on his face if Sam let go of him. Nervously, I said, "Be careful, Sam."

When we came around the front of the house, Sam glanced up and down the street to see if any neighbors were around. There was no one in sight. He dragged Ed to the driveway, grabbed the back of his belt and literally threw him onto the hood of his luxury sedan. He landed face down, tried to turn over, and rolled off the front of the car. Sam looked down at him and issued a final warning. "Next time I won't be so gentle."

Sam headed back the way we came, walking quickly and looking angry. I scurried after him, but as we rounded the corner of the house, I looked up and saw a woman standing in the window of the house next door. I stopped in my tracks and was suddenly very conscious that I was wearing nothing but my red Speedo. Not knowing what else to do, I smiled and waved. She smiled back and gave me a 'thumbs up.' I didn't know if she was approving my Speedo, or the way Sam handled Big Ed. I turned and sprinted to catch up with him.

"Sam, wait!"

He didn't pause or turn around. "Not now, Adam. I need to cool down. Just give me some space, okay?"

[Reeza]

Originally Posted by Mdlftr

It is true that Sam manhandles Big Ed when he breaks his rib. There is NO indication of his facial expression during the actual act of breaking his rib.
<snip>
So I took interpretive license when I read the section, thinking that a feral grin would be in character for Sam -- so sue me!

Hmmm. Very interesting . . . (Reeza strokes his chin and thinks, Mdlftr's got issues.)

Here's how I'll rewrite that scene:

I hurried over there to prevent Sam from going too far, and heard him growl at Ed. "I will crush your fucking chest if you disrespect these ladies again."

Ed snarled in my direction. "You mean this little faggot lady?"

Sam paused and thought, I wouldn't want Mdlftr to think I'm a sadistic rage monster who actually enjoys hurting people, but I'm so angry I want to break this guy's rib, as along as it's clear that I won't be proud of myself afterwards. I'd better put on my grumpy cat face. Sam's lips curled down into a classic frown that revealed the storm of emotions that he struggled to control. He pressed his thumb into Ed's bloated torso. I heard the dull snap of a cracking rib. etc. . . .

That should help.

Seriously now, thanks for all of your compliments and support, and for being such a good sport. I'll send you a holy card with ejaculations on the back.

[Tibo]

Originally Posted by Reeza

[?] I'll send you a holy card with ejaculations on the back.

I'm not sure how that's compatible with the church. I think your angry old nuns didn't do the best job.

[Mdlftr]

Originally Posted by Reeza

Hmmm. Very interesting . . . (Reeza strokes his chin and thinks, Mdlftr's got issues.)

.......Seriously now, thanks for all of your compliments and support, and for being such a good sport. I'll send you a holy card with ejaculations on the back.

Aw, Sister Mary Elephant (George Carlin) will be SOOOO pleased that you remembered your ejaculations!

Which ones are you favorites?
"'The Jesus Prayer' O Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner." OR

"'Come Holy Spirit' Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of your love.
V. Send forth your Spirit, and they shall be created.
R. And You shall renew the face of the earth."

Nothing beats a good ejaculation to start your day! Makes you feel good all over!

WHAT?! You guys out there thought we were discussing something dirty? Something "unclean" and "a grave moral failing?"

Why NO!

EVERYBODY (who's been to Catholic grade school) knows what an "ejaculation" is!! Look it up: http://catholicism.about.com/od/pray...jaculation.htm

An ejaculation, sometimes called an aspiration, is a short prayer meant to be memorized and repeated throughout the day. In this way, we can heed Saint Paul's injunction to "Pray without ceasing" and continually turn our thoughts toward God.

Pronunciation: ee-jack-you-LAY-shun

Also Known As: aspiration

Examples:
Some common ejaculations include the "Jesus Prayer" and "Come Holy Spirit."

On this site we usually shorten it to,

"Oh JESUS!" and "COME!!"

We take our religion seriously around here!

Br. Mdlftr

[nnnrg]

mdliftr, you realize that you have ruined those prayers for me. I actually use one or two of them when I'm stressed out, but now I'll be even more distracted if I did that.

[Mdlftr]

Originally Posted by Reeza

Hmmm. Very interesting . . . (Reeza strokes his chin and thinks, Mdlftr's got issues.)

Here's how I'll rewrite that scene:

I hurried over there to prevent Sam from going too far, and heard him growl at Ed. "I will crush your fucking chest if you disrespect these ladies again."

Ed snarled in my direction. "You mean this little faggot lady?"

Sam paused and thought, I wouldn't want Mdlftr to think I'm a sadistic rage monster who actually enjoys hurting people, but I'm so angry I want to break this guy's rib, as along as it's clear that I won't be proud of myself afterwards. I'd better put on my grumpy cat face. Sam's lips curled down into a classic frown that revealed the storm of emotions that he struggled to control. He pressed his thumb into Ed's bloated torso. I heard the dull snap of a cracking rib. etc. . . .

That should help.

Weeellll, it's a BIT better, but maybe you should re-write it to be a bit more obvious and less subtle, if you take my meaning,that I'm trying to explain here.

[Pause followed by audible sigh]

*Sigh* Let me provide an example to demonstrate what I'm trying to show here:

"Although it was a dark and stormy night, The ground was dry as I hurried over there, right next to Sam and Ed, that is, where they were standing, on the ground, in the backyard. My intention, thinking to myself, and not saying anything aloud, was to prevent Sam from going too far, that is, I didn't want him to assault Big Ed, that is, put him in imminent fear and apprehension of imminent bodily harm or harmful or offensive touching, to which he could possibly be brought up on criminal assault charges at the office of our local District Attorney, and heard him growl, that is, put out a forceful exhalation of air which, being forced out past his constricted vocal chords, sounded unitelligible and could not be recognized as actual words, at or rather, to, or in the vicinity of Ed the aforementioned son and only child of my hostess, a lady of mature years who resided in the property adjacent to, and abutting upon my own [metes and bounds descriptions to be supplied later] . "I will crush your fucking chest if you disrespect these ladies again," said Sam with some heat, his normal good manners forgotten and abandoned in the heat of the moment.

Ed snarled or made an inarticulate sound subjectively appearing to communicate rage or anger or extreme, that is to say, protracted emotional distress and upset in my direction that is, to my face. "You mean this little faggot lady?" Indicated Ed, purposefully, or so I inferred in the heat of the moment, when emotions were running high, referring to me, in a misplaced attempt at humor or inappropriate japery.

Sam, however, was having NONE of this misdirection. Sam paused and thought, I wouldn't want Mdlftr to think I'm a sadistic rage monster who actually enjoys hurting people, but I'm so angry I want to break this guy's rib, as along as it's clear that I won't be proud of myself afterwards. I'd better put on my grumpy cat face. This of course, referring to a photoshopped picture of a feline with an exaggeratedly lugubrious and intense expression of extreme annoyance, as indicated by his heavy black eyebrows drawn down, as well as the set of his mouth Sam's lips curled down into a classic frown in a manner similar to the aforesaid cat that revealed the storm of emotions that he struggled to control manfully, as indicated by his heaving chest and flaring nostrils. I stood, transfixed, my eyes rapt with the sight of his massively developed pectoral shelf heaving up and down and expanding before my very eyes. I noted, with some distraction, a similar heaving in my own nether regions, but I digress. I turned my attention back to Sam.

He Sam, that is pressed his thumb (I don't remember whether it was his right or left one. I think he's right handed, so I would assume that he used his more dominant hand to carry out this maneuver, but I cannot clearly recollect the sequence at this time, so clearly did the stress of the moment, and the churning emotions engendered therein, wipe all recollection from my mind) into Ed's bloated torso probably at the level of his 9th or 11th rib. As Sam pressed his mighty digit against the resistant bone, he exerted such force in such a small concentrated area [Note: look up equation for calculations of force in comparatively smaller areas as compared to larger areas and describe the resulting greater forces brought to bear in a smaller area] that the bone of the overweight, as in, exceeding a Body Mass Index of 30, "Big" Ed, the nickname being a satirical homage to his large size, that it was unequal to the task of resisting the power exerted by Samson, so that the expected event occurred, and I heard the dull snap of a cracking rib. etc. . . .


There, isn't that much better!? And more clear? With less room for confusion or ambiguity?

I'll get started on the other chapters and send you my edits. Oh, and you might want to send me Chapter 19 before you post it, just so I can clean up some of these embarrassing omissions!

No bother, GLAD to help!



Mdlftr
Graduate of the Edward Bulwar Lytton School of Action Writing

[Reeza]

Originally Posted by nnnrg

mdliftr, you realize that you have ruined those prayers for me. I actually use one or two of them when I'm stressed out, but now I'll be even more distracted if I did that.

Wait . . . it gets even better! One of the benefits of ejaculations is that they get you out of some time in purgatory and allow you to get into heaven sooner. So the more you ejaculate, the quicker you get your heavenly reward! (And all of us Catholic boys thought it was the opposite. ) The old holy cards actually had a notation on the back that told you how many days you earn for the prayer printed on the card.

My personal favorite is "Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" Quick and dirty, and oh so satisfying.

[Reeza]

Originally Posted by Mdlftr

There, isn't that much better! And more clear? With less room for confusion or ambiguity?

Wow! That really flows smoothly and carries the action of the story swiftly along its path. You should offer writing workshops.

Speaking of which, your last post suggests that you have enough time on your hands to produce a story of your own, which I am still waiting for.

(taps foot on floor, indicating impatience)

[johnyoo2]

Great story Reeza! Thanks for all the hard work. Just curious, but is there any chance you can put in some growth for Adam? It'd be cool if Sam's growth because of his relationship with Adam had a reciprocal effect. Just a thought :-)