Show Me What You've Got

I had seen him many times at the little gym where we both worked out. Because of his looks, his body size and his race, I didn’t think he and I could ever make a good match. But still, I thought about it every day, having elaborate fantasies about his spectacular body. I wondered why he kept coming to the gym when he already had the best developed male physique I’ve ever seen. I didn’t think it was because of me. After all, in many ways he and I didn’t have many similarities: he was black, I was white; he had no hair on his head; I had a full head of hair; he was an unusually tall guy; I was much shorter. The dissimilarities went on and on….

He did manage to keep his eye on me, though. One day while on an exercise bike, I noticed that when he came into the room he picked a bike right next to mine, which he had never done before. As we pedaled, I saw him glance at my body a few times. At first I didn’t think much of it. Then I noticed the guy looking mostly toward my crotch. Did he see a problem there that I missed? Had I developed a hole in my shorts? Had I failed to adequately conceal the natural bulges in my shorts, or what?

I finally slowed my pedaling to a stop for a rest. I looked down to see my cock pushing my shorts way out. Maybe that’s what caught his attention. Nevertheless, it was too late to do much about that. I hoped my face hadn’t shown my embarrassment. Maybe to distract him, I introduced myself right away as Dan. He stopped pedaling and straddled his bike’s top tube in a wide leg spread that I thought very sexy. He responded with, “Tyrone.”

The guy paused, looked at my crotch again and said, “Cool shorts.”

“These are getting’ kinda old. I should replace ‘em.”

“Get Carl Mason’s. I know a store that has ‘em,” he said.

Tyrone got off the bike and shook my hand. He stood amazingly tall—much taller than I expected.

“Is that where you get yours?”

“Yeah. It has lots of basketball shorts. But I’m not into basketball that much. Cool store, though.”

It shocked me that this exceptionally tall, black guy wasn’t into basketball. But instead of commenting on it I said, “How do I get to that store?”

“I’ll take you there sometime. I gotta buy a few things for myself anyway.”

That sounded good to me. But his body looked even better as Tyrone stood close beside me. His dick wasn’t as hard as mine, but I could easily see its huge shape languishing inside his shorts, like a healthy snake ready to go after its prey. Despite our bodily differences, it still felt great simply standing beside Tyrone. Maybe I felt his body heat. Whatever caused it probably also kept my cock hard.

The next time we met at the gym, the day had become stormy with lots of rain. We both arrived at about the same time and instead of working out, we decided to go to the men’s sportswear store he’d talked about. Because of the intimidating downpour, we had to run across the gym’s parking lot to get to Tyrone’s pickup. Despite our running, we still got drenched. We jumped in his truck and began laughing at our soaked shorts and tees. I immediately saw that his wet shorts now clung easily to his dick. It looked much longer and fatter than before. Before we left, Tyrone adjusted the front of his wet shorts—maybe to let his balls or dick hang more freely.

“Shit!” he said. I hope these shorts dry out soon. It looks like I have a hard-on.”

I grinned. “Doesn’t bother me.” After I said that, I wished I hadn’t—but I couldn’t take it back. On the other hand, what I said had the ring of truth. I only regretted not seeing his entire, naked dick.

Yet Tyrone accepted it without a problem and I relaxed a bit.

“You wouldn’t believe how big my cock gets,” he said. “It scares away most guys.”

“No girls?”

“Nah. They annoy me!”

Nothing sounded better to my ears than that. When we looked over the store’s inventory of shorts, Tyrone asked me what I thought of one in particular. “I think you’d look hot in that. But this one’s more my style,” I said, holding up a metallic orange, low-rise swim brief.

Tyrone shocked me when he said, “I’ll get that one.”

"I thought you’d get boxer-style ones,” I said, surprised.

Tyrone chuckled, then whispered to me, “I like the feel of a brief on my nuts.”

That whisper turned me on. “Me too,” I replied quietly. “I’d like to see it on you sometime.”

We both smiled and said nothing more. At that point I felt that some kind of silent bond had formed between him and I. We left the store laughing and sprinting again in the rain. While sitting in his truck we listened to some music and watched the drops of rain pouring down the windshield.

Tyrone pulled his purchase from the store’s bag. I expected him to hold it up, but instead he did something I never expected. He slipped off his shorts, giving me a look at his naked dick for the first time. His cock looked fantastic—very long and hard, with a width twice that of another guy’s. He didn’t rush to put the brief on. As I gazed at his big cock, he took off his wet tee shirt as well and his soaked sneakers, leaving him naked. With rain continuously running down the truck’s windows, no one could see him—except me, of course. I wondered if he had stripped deliberately for me. Then he lifted his ass as high off the seat as he could to put on the brief.

“It fits! At least it’s dry!” he said. “How does it look on me?”

“Perfect. I think you should wear it a lot—it sure is sexy.”

“It’s very soft. Feel it.”

That sent my expectations over the top. The words “feel it” seemed way too good to be true. But it was true. I slowly reached a hand toward him and felt the brief’s side with my fingers. Then I slid my hand further, directly across the fabric covering his totally erect rod and ball sack. His cock moved as I touched it. He sort of smiled and leaned his head against the truck’s headrest as I continued to feel the brief—and it’s gigantic bulges.

“I’ve been hopin’ you’d do that,” he said softly.

Tyrone’s broad cockhead had pushed above the brief’s waistband. I pulled the waistband down, exposing a lot more of his massive rod. I marveled at it for a moment. Then I slowly lowered my head toward it. The guy gasped in pleasure as I slowly ran my tongue up its long surface. After that I took as much of it as I could into my mouth. I loved feeling its warmth and energetic pulsing.

I hardly moved my mouth at all. But my tongue did move, constantly rubbing itself against the huge, stiff pole. That caressing made Tyrone moan in a quiet but incredibly sexy way. That drove me to keep doing it. My tongue adhered to his erotic muscle like a magnet.

It got even better when I started to coax his muscle into leaking some of its juicy pre-cum into my mouth. Tyrone put a hand on the back of my head to encourage me. I’ll never forget us both moaning as I pleasured that amazing cock. It thanked me again and again by spurting some pre-cum down my throat, while rain poured down on Tyrone’s parked truck.

This continued for many minutes. Tyrone’s groaning grew much louder. I could feel the cock tightening as the guy’s pleasure went out of control. When the cock finally exploded, Tyrone shouted his pleasure for at least a minute. But those yells still didn’t drown out the sound of the rain as it pelted the truck. Tyrone pushed my head down harder with his hand to make sure my mouth stayed around his pumping cock. He didn’t have to do that: I would have continued to suck him anyway—for as long as possible!

Eventually I released his rod and Tyrone put his brief on once more. “You know how to do it,” he said. He started the truck and drove off, wearing just that brief. Underneath it, his cock seemed to remain erect. When we got back to the parking lot of his his apartment, we ran through the downpour once more to get inside. As before, the rain soaked us. As soon as we got out of the downpour, Tyrone stripped off his wet brief for the second time. I took off my soaked tee shirt and shorts too. Tyrone stared at my naked body a long time, especially admiring my stiff balls and cock.

“Great nuts, man. I want ‘em,” he remarked, seeing me naked for the first time.

Tyrone pushed my back against a wall. Then he began a long session of ball squeezing. He held me there with one arm across my chest. His other arm kept the squeeze on my balls for a long time. When he let go, I thought he was done. But he had only just started. He grab-squeezed my balls over and over, pausing between each long grab.

After several minutes of this, Tyrone finally let me collapse to the floor on my knees. But that didn’t stop him. He continued grabbing my balls until I sank to the floor on my back. I quickly turned over onto my chest to avoid more attacks. He saw that as no deterrent at all. Tyrone spread my legs apart and rammed his hand into my crotch from behind. He obviously loved it, but maybe he liked hearing my screams even better.

I tried to break away from him by twisting or turning my body in every possible position. I tried to kick out of his squeeze, or use my legs in some way to free myself. Yet he didn’t let go of my balls. Reaching down to wrench his fingers off my balls, or trying to move my arms behind me to pull his hand away from my sack didn’t work. But I kept trying to free myself from his strong, claw-like grip. I rolled over and over, swearing and hitting his arms. But he had my balls in a secure grip. With one of his arms behind me, Tyrone wrapped his other arm around my neck. He didn’t really try to choke me, or crush my balls so much that I would give up, although he could have done one or both of those things. But I had run out of options. My desire to overcome him gradually lessened until no such desire remained.

I had always wanted to wrestle a guy like Tyrone for fun. He seemed to know that. When I gave up most of my struggling and let him do what he wished, that’s the point where it became incredibly wonderful for both of us. Tyrone kept fondling and squeezing my balls without any more of my objections. He never seemed to grow tired of it.

While he held my balls in a commanding squeeze from behind, he talked about a guy he once went after in the same way.

“A while ago I went to a national, pro-wrestling training camp. I wanted to get into that pro-wrestling thing. Most of those guys have such beautiful bodies—and balls. One day after wrestling with a very young and tough-looking guy, we took a shower together. When I saw his big nuts I just couldn’t resist any longer. I grabbed ‘em. His shouting brought a manager. They terminated my contract right away, and that ended my wrestling career!

“But I know how to do ball grabbing without much pain—like I’m doin’ to you right now. Most guys get real scared of any kind of move on their nuts—such wimps! You’re no wimp, man! I bet you’d be OK with me workin’ on your nuts all day!”

“As long as its you doing it!” I gasped.

Tyrone smiled. “Then I will sometime. You stopped bein’ afraid of what I might do to you.”

He squeezed the balls harder for a moment. I groaned, but I didn’t yell.

“You’re a stud-boy, the best kind!” said Tyrone.

He reduced his squeeze but kept a tight grip on them, as before.

“I know you like this ‘cause your cock’s gettin’ super hard—just the way I like it!”

Tyrone threw me down on his bed on my back. He looked at my hard cock and tickled it with a finger. Then he captured it with his mouth. The sudden pleasure made me cry out. But he grabbed my balls again to make sure I didn’t move much. He started to suck on my cock. I had the feeling that he could have finished me off real quick if he had wanted to do that. He seemed to like having my cock in his mouth. Sometimes he stopped his sucking for a few seconds—maybe just to savor it, or to swallow the pre-cum that I know I gave him a few times.

I had the feeling that Tyrone liked to make a guy submit to him, in any way that he could think of to do it. As he sucked (or savored) my rod, his fingers also constantly firmly checked and re-checked my balls. He later told me he had gotten good at using specific, longish squeezes on each ball to find out when a guy got close to ejaculating. Perhaps that’s what happened. Or maybe he only wanted to feel my balls whenever he had the urge.

In any case, I definitely liked those firm checks. I even looked forward to them. In fact, I wanted to cum for him several times, but he kept delaying my cock’s desire to let loose. I seemed Tyrone had also gotten very good at testing his skill at sperm-play. But as he proceeded to make my sperm rise and fall without letting me have an orgasm, my wish to cum became stronger. It also drove my pleasure to new levels. I thought of the guy he took a shower with at the training session for wrestlers: that guy sure missed out on a fantastic opportunity with Tyrone!

He sure didn’t give up easily. All of my muscles tightened as he kept my cock in his mouth and teased my balls with his fingers.

My mouth opened. My muscles seemed to fail. My leg-spread widened without me realizing it. I couldn’t talk. I could only moan in complete weakness and submission. I laid an arm across his shoulder. I had never before felt such an awesome euphoria—especially one that continued minute-after-minute.

Tyrone moaned quietly as he felt my cock stiffening in his mouth. He and I both knew what was about to happen. He held my body closer as my cock at last began to fire my loads into him. The stud emptied me slowly but thoroughly. He swallowed every spurt that he sucked out of me, and there were a lot of them. He did something else—he drained all of the strength out of my body as well.

“Man, you taste so good!” he said. Tyrone licked the oozing sperm off of my twitchy rod until there was nothing left on it.

Afterward we simply rested side-by-side, occasionally caressing each other. My hand found the pole stiff and even larger in width and length than I had remembered it. After several minutes, Tyrone sat up and took my cock in his hand. First he fingered it from tip to balls, mumbling to himself about the cock’s surprising, extreme stiffness. He couldn’t resist it. He started to squeeze and rub it as I groaned loudly.

But when he grabbed my balls with his other hand, it became clear to me what he had in mind. Tyrone humorously told me that he held the world’s championship in “ball fighting and ball submitting.” Who would argue with that? Not me. He loved getting a guy’s balls whenever the mood hit him or when he saw an opening to defend his “title.” It didn’t matter to him which guy he picked for his next “match.” But after he met me, I became Tyrone’s preferred choice for showing off his particular skill. Sometimes I had time to prepare for it, and sometimes I didn’t.

On that rainy day I didn’t. Tyrone put a squeeze on my balls that would have terrified most guys. He definitely knew how to do it. He could have demolished my boys if he wanted to, but instead he intended to make them relinquish their man jam. Jacking a cock would do that easier, and sometimes he did so. But he much preferred to drain a guy by focusing just on his balls. Tyrone could do that well, unlike most guys. And when he had a firm hold on a cock at the same time, he always got what he wanted even sooner.

The black hunk sure had a way with my balls. He didn’t just crush them in his hand like he did with other guys. His fingers sort of massaged mine as he squeezed. He also moved them slightly and erotically in my sack until they released their sperm.

As rain poured down on the apartment’s roof, Tyrone made me erupt. He loved seeing my spurts and hearing my shouts of joy. He deserved it. After the orgasm I couldn’t say a word. I could only react by rapidly inhaling and exhaling. He turned me over onto my stomach and patted my ass. Then Tyrone reached for an object next to the bed. It turned out to be a narrow, blue applicator filled with lube. He carefully eased about half of the applicator into my ass. Following that, the guy very slowly pushed down on the lube. I felt it gradually enter me. He laid a hand on my butt and kept it there until he’d emptied the applicator.

He removed the object and stretched out his body over me as though preparing to do pushups. The end of his long rod located my butthole without assistance. With my ass filled with lube, I hardly noticed the rod sliding into me. Anyone watching him probably wouldn’t have noticed it either, because he lowered his cock and his body so slowly.

But despite his concern for me, he couldn’t reduce the enormous width of his cock. It simply didn’t easily fit into the much narrower passage of my ass, even though he proceeded with such care. Over the minutes I felt the full length of Tyrone’s muscular body begin to touch my back, butt and legs. Soon the guy’s entire body weight pressed down onto me. My mouth opened in a sustained gasp as I felt his endless cock push into my ass.

Now Tyrone’s beautiful black body completely surrounded me, and entered me. His physique measured at least six inches taller than me, so I hadn’t exaggerated. He covered me like a warm blanket. The stud put his arms around me. I considered that as an embrace, but I also knew it kept me from escaping. He had me dominated and I loved it.

But when he started to slowly fuck me, I began to have new and scarier reactions. With every thrust his mammoth cock tried to widen my ass. I squealed. My jaw dropped. I lifted my head off the bed—the only part of me that I could move. The raw power of Tyrone’s body kept me aghast. With my mouth opened wide, I frantically turned my head to the left and to the right, trying to handle what I felt in my ass. I lifted my head off the bed repeatedly as Tyrone drove his rod further into me—at least, it felt that way.

Sometimes the guy needed to stop fucking when his cock reached the shooting point. It happened more than once and when it did, my head fell onto the bed in exasperation. Tyrone took time to calm down a little. But the time-out soon ended. Occasionally his fucking resumed at a much slower pace. I still reacted by breathlessly lifting my head off the bed or turning it from side to side as though a fever had made me delirious.

Tyrone kissed the side of my neck and head, trying to relax me a bit. He reached one arm lower and gave my balls some sexy squeezes. He wrapped a hand around my cock like he owned it, which he did. But the guy’s mammoth rod inside me always exerted his ultimate control over my body. Its grinding or even its slightest movement made me cry out in a fright I’d never felt before. And yet I didn’t want him to stop.

When his giant exploded, Tyrone’s head dropped onto my shoulder. I felt the stud’s strong pulsing deep inside my ass. I heard his moaning. I’ll never forget his hysterical breaths blasting my neck as he drove his awesome juice forward. Tyrone’s jetting sperm seemed to fill my entire body with his warmth, energy and affection. Though his biceps eventually relaxed, he still hugged me with both arms, never letting go.

Though improbable at first, our matchup couldn’t have turned out better. As the rain ran down his bedroom window he kissed my neck several more times. I smiled and fell asleep with Tyrone’s body still around me and within me. In some ways, that was the best part of it for me—until the same thing happened the following day, and every day after that.

(end)