Read My Lips - The Beginning

[Londonboy]

I?ve always heard that the percentage of gay men in the deaf community is much higher than the hearing community. My own non-scientific study of this fact has proven it true. Most of the deaf men I know are gay. And to top if off, I find most deaf men hot as hell! There needs to be a scientific study on this second fact, as well. I would volunteer to be the assistant for that research ? and my desire to be part of the team is definitely not just scientific curiosity ? if you know what I mean.

That is why I specifically noticed a group of people boarding the subway car I had chosen that evening ? they were all smiling and joyfully ?signing? to each other. I find the movement of sign language so sexy. The way deaf people can almost secretively communicate with each other. And don?t get me started on the fact that some deaf people can read lips. The thought that someone across a large room could know what I was saying ? just by reading my lips ? really gets my juices flowing. How great it would be to flirt with someone from a far distance ? just by reading lips.

And that is exactly what happened that night on the subway. There were about six people in the group that made a crowd at the opposite end of the car. My cell phone rang just before they boarded and it was my friend Thomas. He was calling to complain (again) about the fact that I was choosing to go home from work and not joining him for drinks at the gay watering hole near his apartment. I was explaining to him how tired I was and how I wanted to just go home, have a gin-and-tonic, and take a long bath when the small crowd of ?signers? parted and I got my first glimpse of him. I was in mid-sentence when I completely stop talking and just stared at the cute guy at the other end of the long middle aisle. And he was looking directly at me ? even as he signed something to his friend. I guessed him to be about thirty. He had piercing eyes. I couldn?t tell what color they were from so far away, but I knew they were vibrant ? and long heavy lashes surrounded them. He had curly brown hair that was the perfect length ? not too long so it looked messy and not too short that it looked salon bought. It was obvious he had a pretty good build, too. He wasn?t huge ? the way I liked my men, but you could tell he had a tight body. He was wearing a green v-neck sweater with a white t-shirt underneath. Even through the sweater I could tell his arms and chest were well defined. As nice as his body obviously was, though, it was his smile that really grabbed my heart. I knew in that instant what it meant for a person to ?melt? from someone else?s stare. I was a pile of soft putty wiggling on the bench because of the movement of the subway. I usually wasn?t bold enough to hold someone?s stare ? but this time my gaze did not move. The guy mesmerized me. He continued to stare at me, as well, even as his friends continued to converse through sign language around him. Every now and then someone would step into the line of vision between us ? blocking my view ? but as soon as they moved I would find that his eyes had not strayed from my direction. He continued to stare at me and smile.

Thomas knew something had caused my attention to drift away from our conversation. He also knew it must be a man. ?So, what does he look like??

?What are you talking about?? I was able to come back to the conversation without turning my gaze away from green sweater man.

?You stopped talking in mid-sentence. That usually means one of two things ? either you have come across a place that serves lemon gelato or there is some bodybuilder near you. And since you?re on the subway I know it can?t be gelato. So, what does Mr. Muscleman look like??

?He?s fucking gorgeous!? Did I notice green sweater man?s smile getting bigger? ?He?s not a bodybuilder, though.? Did the smile just become smaller? ?But I can tell he?s got a very nice build. And, yes, I can look at guys that aren?t ready for Mr. Olympia, by the way. They don?t all have to be a freaky muscleman.? I swear green sweater man?s face seemed to be reacting to my conversation. ?All I know is this guy has the greatest smile I have ever seen and he hasn?t moved his gaze since we first locked eyes on each other.?

?Well I am impressed.? Although he said this, I could tell that Thomas had already lost interest in what was happening in my life. He then went into a long whining session about how I was abandoning him. One of the other members of green sweater man?s group noticed our locked stare and purposely stood between us. I had the urge to get up and go shove the guy to the side ? but knew I would never have the guts to do something like that. I was able to return most of my attention back to Thomas ? who seemed to be ending the conversation. ?Well, I am done whining, because Mr. ?right-for-right-now? just walked into to the bar and I must give him my full attention. Good luck with that guy on the subway ? as if you?d ever make some kind of move.? And with that mean comment Thomas hung up.

At first, what Thomas had said made me angry, but then I realized he was right. I never made the first move with a guy. I just didn?t have it in me to be a bold flirt. I didn?t have any trouble picking out a guy I liked, but that is where it ended. I sat there for a moment and wondered if it was because I was attracted to guys who were twice the size of me. I couldn?t help that I was attracted to big muscle men and that I found talking to them very intimidating. At that moment I decided I would make an effort with green sweater guy if given the chance. I believe I made this pact with myself because I was sure that the opportunity would not come up ? but the ?powers that be? had other plans.

We were about to stop at a station where the majority of evening commuters got off. I still had about four stops to go because I lived outside of the city. As we began to slow down I noticed the group surrounding ?green sweater man? readying themselves to exit. I couldn?t see a lot because many people had moved over in front of the doors to depart as soon as they opened. I stood halfway up to try and get one final glance of that killer smile ? but my heart sank because I was unsuccessful. The doors opened and people exited. I moved across the aisle to one of the empty seats on the other side - in hopes of seeing green sweater man in the station as we pulled away. I saw the group of deaf people walking towards the escalator as the subway doors closed and we started to pull away, but I could not get a glimpse of Mr. Gorgeous. As soon as we slowly moved away from the station and into the tunnel, I turned around in my seat ? missed opportunities disappointing me again. As I sat there contemplating what it would have been like to kiss the beautiful mouth of the ?man that got away,? I noticed something moving at the other end of the car ? and I could tell instantly it was green. My head turned quickly and I had no time to censor the excitement that poured across my face.

There was Mr. green sweater ? staring at me and flashing that killer smile. The joy that overcame me caused me to lose any kind of shyness or restraint. I quickly stood up and walked down the aisle toward him. I registered that there were only two other people in the car. I sat in the seat in front of him ? not caring that it was the seat saved for the elderly or disabled. It faced inward ? toward the middle of the car - while he was sitting in a two-seater that faced forward. I was thankful that there was a metal panel, like a half-wall, between us - because it hid the already-stiff cock pressing against my pants. I never took my gaze from his the entire time I moved toward him - and he held my eyes with his, also. As I sat down his stunning smile seemed to grow wider ? making him even more handsome than before.

I immediately noticed that we were about the same size. He might have been about 5 feet eleven inches, putting him a couple more inches taller than me. I couldn?t tell, though because he was sitting. I did notice that he did, indeed, have a nicely toned upper body underneath the tight sweater. He wasn?t huge, but he was fit. When I sat down I also noticed, for the first time, that he had a plaster cast on his right arm. I could see the end of it as it snaked around his palm between his thumb and forefinger. Because of the way it made the sleeve of his sweater bulge I could tell that it ended just beyond his elbow ? at the base of his bicep.

For a second I forgot he was deaf. ?Hi. My name is Mason.? I couldn?t say anything more because I got lost in his deep hazel eyes ? highlighted by the sweater. I think he noticed my trance-like state because he chuckled silently to himself. He reached down and opened a notebook sitting in his lap - pulling a pen out of his pocket. He looked down as he wrote something on the blank page.

After a few seconds he held up the pad for me to read. ?Nice to meet you, Mason. My name is Skip. Just to let you know, I?m deaf.? I could sense that he continued to smile at me as I read what he wrote. I looked back at him, nodded, and moved to take the notebook and pen from his hand. He pulled them away and shook his head. He wrote a note quickly. ?It?s okay. I read lips.? I understood what he was saying. I nodded my head ?yes? and just stared at him - smiling.

Skip returned his gaze to the paper and wrote something. When he looked back up there was a slight mischievousness to his smile. I read what he wrote. ?So, I?m not big enough for you? Right? You usually go for Mr. Olympia types. You like freaky musclemen.? As I read what he had written I became flabbergasted.

?You read my lips from way over here?? Skip could tell how shocked I was. He just nodded his head and smiled bigger than ever. He was obviously proud of himself. It, however, made me embarrassed. I searched quickly for what to say. ?I, uh, I . . . you weren?t supposed to hear . . . I mean see what I said. I?m sorry. I didn?t mean to offend you. You?re obviously very handsome and well built. It was a stupid thing for me to . . . uh, say. It?s just that I was talking to my friend Thomas and he knows that sometimes I go for big guys and I . . .? Skip put his hand on my arm, which was resting on the wide metal pole that ran along the top of the plate between us. I could tell the gesture was meant to tell me everything was okay. He went back to the notebook and wrote.

?It?s okay Mason. I was just giving you a hard time.? He smiled as he showed me these sentences. I smiled back and mouthed the word ?sorry? while rolling my eyes ? to signify how stupid I was.

He wrote on the notebook page again, this time it took a little longer than before. He finally handed me the page. ?No worries, man. It?s good that you know what you like. And just for conversation sake - if I were a huge bodybuilder would you like me more? Be honest, Mason. I really like honesty. It won?t be rude of you to admit it. Would you like me more if I had freaky big muscles??

I really couldn?t get my mind around what he had written. I didn?t want to offend this cute guy sitting in front of me. I was very scared of telling the truth ? that I did truly love big guys. I looked at his face and could tell he sincerely wanted to know. Something ? I don?t know what - helped me to be honest. I guess I felt safe with Skip. Somehow I knew I wouldn?t be hurting his feelings. ?Like I said before, Skip, I think you are very handsome and well built. But, if you?re asking what really turns me on or what fills most of my fantasies - I guess I would have to say it is freaky muscle beasts.? This made Skip shiver a little ? I think from excitement ? and smile more broadly. He quickly went back to the page and wrote something.

He held it up and I read the simple sentence he had written. ?And what if I could be a freaky muscle beast for you??

I smiled at him. ?Well, that would make you even more handsome. But, Skip, I don?t want to wait for you to become a freaky muscle beast before I date you. I want to go out with you now.? I couldn?t believe how forward I was being ? but it was the truth. I really did like this guy. Something about him told me he could make me very happy. Or maybe I was just so turned on that I couldn?t think straight. Skip wrote another quick note.

?Watch this!? That?s all it said and the exclamation point at the end made me more excited than before ? if that was possible. Skip put the notebook and pen on the seat beside him. He then reached down and pulled his sweater sleeve up over the cast on his arm. He bunched the sleeve up around his bicep. He then wrapped his fingers and thumb around the metal bar on top of the metal plate between us. It was an awkward grasp because part of the cast got in the way of his grip. Still, his fingers and thumb turned a little white from the pressure he was exerting. Skip was no longer looking at me ? his gaze was at his own forearm and hand.

?Be careful, Skip. Don?t hurt yourself.? It was no use ? he didn?t hear me because he was looking down. Suddenly I heard a pop-like noise. I thought it was the subway car. I looked down and there was a huge crack on the top of his cast. I watched ? totally shocked ? as the crack began to widen. Suddenly there were lots of other cracks appearing all over the plaster surrounding Skip?s arm - and pieces of the cast started falling to the floor. I could not have been prepared for what I noticed next. I glanced at Skip?s hand on the metal railing. His fingers were squeezing tightly and it looked like they were pressing into the metal so hard that they were pressing the skin outward. It was then I realized that Skip?s fingers were somehow expanding. They were actually growing! His fingers were getting longer and wider ? as well as the top of his hand. My head went dizzy when it dawned on me that his forearm was growing, as well. And that growth was causing the cast on his arm to burst. I became even dizzier as blood rushed from all parts of my body to my cock because I began to see slivers of metal appear between Skip?s now huge fingers. His grip was actually denting the metal bar and it was seeping out anywhere it could.

Suddenly, the pressure his growing arm was placing on the cast was too much and pieces shot off in different directions. I was glad no one was sitting beside him or across the aisle. The chunks of plaster were sent flying with so much force that it could have hurt anyone in its way ? as it was, a large piece hit the window on the other side of the car and cracked the glass. I glanced back at Skip?s hand and most of the plaster had fallen away from his massively swollen forearm and hand. Because the rest of his arm had not grown that much I was immediately reminded of the Popeye cartoons. Skips right arm looked like Popeye ? with the insanely wide lower part of his arm, beefy hand, and pretty normal bicep. I could tell his upper arm had grown some because it stretched the sweater sleeve a little more where he had bunched it up. But now Skip could not have pulled that sleeve back down over his forearm if he had tried with all his might. His forearm was so thick that he would have had to cut the sleeve just to let it hang down.

I could not take my eyes off of Skip?s arm. I was struggling to get my mind around all that was happening. Skip then let go of the railing and turned his thick, wide forearm over ? revealing an engorged blood-pumping vein snaking from his wrist up the monstrous hard surface of his arm and disappearing into the tight sweater sleeve. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. He made a tight fist and pulled it toward himself ? causing the forearm to explode into what looked like a small mountain range of muscles. I moaned out loud. I kid you not. That forearm looked like it had more power than my entire body ? and every possible muscle seemed to be three times the size of any normal man. And who knew there were so many muscles in a fucking forearm. Skip was still staring at his own arm. He raised it toward his face to get a closer look ? tightening his grip and making the muscles expand even more. I stared at the arm as well, but could still sense his big smile.

And then my heart and my breath stopped ? for what seemed like forever. When Skip had moved his arm I was able to see the damage his grip had done to the metal railing. There was the perfect impression of his wide hand and fingers imbedded in the thick solid pole that ran along the metal plate between us. I reached my hand up to place my fingers in the grooves where his had been. I sensed heat before they got too close to the metal and realized that I would burn myself if I touched it. I was close enough, however, to notice that my fingers looked like those of a five year old compared to the wide long impression of his. I moved my hand further down on the railing and placed it on an un-destroyed part. My hand did not come close to covering half of the wide pole. It was at that moment I fully comprehended how huge Skip?s hand had grown. The indention of his grip went completely around ? and now through ? the pole. I could tell it wasn?t some hollow piece of metal either ? he had crushed solid steel as his hand grew. I looked up at Skip ? who was now looking at me and had one of the most boyish grins I had ever seen ? like he had just made me a special present. He was still holding his forearm up between us, had his hand still in a fist and was turning it side to side to make the muscle mountain range ripple with power. We finally locked eyes for a few seconds.

?What the fuck?? That was all I could say. It was crude and it was juvenile, but it completely captured all of the awe, confusion, and lust racing through my entire body.

Skip?s body shook a little as he silently giggled. He lowered his pumped up forearm and grabbed his pad of paper and pen. The pen looked like a toothpick in his giant paw. He went to write, but obviously didn?t know his own strength ? the pen was crushed between his thick forefinger and thumb. He looked up at me and had a ?whoops? look on his face.

?You might want to be a little more gentle.? He nodded at my suggestion. I grabbed a pen from my satchel and held it up for him. As he softly took my pen I saw his freakish hand next to mine for the first time. His thumb was larger than three of my fingers put together. If I had placed my hand against his my fingers would not have stretched further than the top of his palm. I suddenly imagined him wrapping that big hand completely around a basketball and causing it to pop like a balloon with just a slight squeeze. My cock started to pulse with excitement at this thought. By this time Skip had finished writing something and handed the notepad to me.

It took me a while to grasp what his note said. ?A long time ago I found that resistance and exertion of any kind could make my muscles grow instantly. They stay pumped up for about twenty-four hours. I also found out that if some guy was turned on by the growth I was able to grow much more than usual. The more turned on a guy was while I grew, the bigger and stronger I would be. That?s why when I read your lips, and you said you liked freaky muscle men, I knew I had to see how much you could make me grow. And I?ve never grown this much. You must be really turned on, Mason. Just think of the possibilities. I know I am! I can?t wait to grow more. What do you think??

[nvb2]

An interesting beginning. I like where this is going. =)

[dimarvalc]

Oh my god!!! The descriptions are very good. I think about an encounter like this every time I take the train home or to work. I read it 3 times, each time more slowly than the others.

I've never locked eyes with anyone like that. Very cool.

Keep it up. You're doing a really good job. We appreciate it.

[msclundylvr]

After this, I definitely wish I lived in a city with a subway! I can't wait to see where this goes!

[sexiscriptor]

Mason: "Fuck me now."
If these forums weren't already brimming with more Magical Realism than we know what to do with I'd point out how hard it actually is to read lips (it's an imperfect art; most of the sounds we make are shaped inside the mouth, so lipreaders can get like half the words but still have to guess on the rest based on context or patterns); that and this story was way too hot for me to care
So many things I love all at once--two guys who're diggin eachother, gradual but steady growth that's voluntary & temporary to boot (so it was real hot hulking out, yeah? well what if you could do it over and over and over again, reverting each time only to grow all over again? ), and sex.

haha, thanks man for what looks to be another a-fucking-mazing story! more smileys!
~Chris

[jfrdricks7931]

I'd like to see that vein on his arm too! Dayum.

[arpeejay]

Great start -- I look forward to more soon!

xoxo

Richard