Ethan's Awakening

Ethan Shaker stood at his bathroom sink, cleaning the come out of his pubic hair. His still-partially-tumescent penis draped over the counter into the white porcelain bowl as his fingers combed the curly red hair for the last vestiges of semen.

Ethan hadn't planned it this way. But then, who really does plan driving down the highway of life and turning onto a dead end?

As things stood now, Ethan was at a dead end, having made some unfortunate decisions years earlier. But he had a hard time beating himself over the head about the decisions. He made them in good faith.

He thought marriage was the right thing to do. He thought he loved Tia. He knew that embracing all of his feelings toward men- especially muscular men- was wrong. In fact, it was sinful. God had better things planned for him than living a life of rebellious, gay sin. So, he followed God and married Tia.

But now, as he washed the last of his jism down the sink with warm water, he questioned that decision. He'd been doing a lot of that lately.

He hiked his boxers up over his well-developed upper legs and turned into the bedroom. He looked at his sleeping wife, Tia, and walked into the big closet to get some clothes. Dressing quietly, he went downstairs and made some coffee. The pre-dawn darkness was almost ready to give way to the golden sun that would no doubt heat the day to unbearable temperatures. He made his usual six-egg omelette, toast, potatoes and protein shake. Usually, this would be followed by a drive to the gym for his workout; but not today.

Ethan sighed. He was losing motivation to work out. He was losing motivation for everything. Normally, he looked forward to his early-morning workouts. He had honed his 33 year-old body into a chiseled, hard, symmetrical thing of muscular beauty. He loved working out- and not just because he loved his hard body. He loved going to the gym to see the others. At his gym, there were lots of others. Hard bodies. Bigger 'n him. Some much bigger. And Ethan took every opportunity to snatch a glance at muscle. God, he had it hard for muscle.

The eggs started to thicken as Ethan stirred them. He wondered how missing this day of working out would effect his efforts to get bigger; he comforted himself with the knowledge that in the long run, it'd be minimal.

Tia's footfall startled him, but he didn't turn away from the stove. She sidled up behind him and wrapped her petite arms around his narrow waist.

"Can you throw some on for me?" she said, with a demeanor that implied she was buttering up her husband.

"Sure," Ethan said.

Tia removed her arms from Etahn and she poured herself some coffee. "I have to work late tonight," she said. "That big convention in Indy starts on Monday, and Jonah wants us to make sure we're ready. Might be 9:00 or so. I'll call you and let you know." She sat at the table and took a sip of her coffee. "You have plans for the day?"

If Ethan told his wife his true plans, she might not be surprised, but she'd sure be mad as shit at the revelation. Ethan suspected she knew. Sometimes, anyway, he thought she might know. Yet, she wasn't the kind of woman to dance around an issue if she found a tidbit of information she didn't like. She'd call Ethan out. Why she hadn't called him out on this, Ethan didn't know. Maybe it was just too heinous for her to face. What he really had planned for the day was to spend a big portion of it in front of his computer, masturbating to bodybuilders.

"Not many," Ethan said, still working the eggs. "Thought I might meet Mark for lunch."

"I need you to clean out the back shed before the barbecue on Sunday," She said, ignoring whatever he had just said. "I don't want to be embarrassed if someone opens the door to that thing and gets knocked unconscious when a shovel falls out."

Ethan fought the urge to visibly sigh. Tia always made things worse than they were. The shed wasn't that bad. And there was her irritating habit of beginning many of her sentences with, "I need you to..." Ethan had told her countless times, "Would you be able to ask me instead of tell me what you 'need me to do'?"

But her mind wasn't geared to form new synaptic connections.

"Okay, I'm all over that task," he said with a hint of sarcasm. Tia & Ethan used sarcasm a lot. He spooned up some eggs for Tia and sat them on the table in front of her. Never mind that this is my vacation, he thought to himself, I'll just be here at your beck and call, sweetheart.

She looked up at him with barely an expression. Although she wanted to start in on him, she was tired. Tired of arguing. She could see Ethan was kind of depressed. And she needed to get to work.

Had she wanted to start in, her chosen topic would have been a familiar one to them both: Why do we hardly ever have sex?

Truth be told, as it turns out, the reason they had sex so infrequently was because Tia was a woman. At least that framed the issue from Ethan's perspective. When they married, 11 years earlier, Ethan was hoping, if not absolutely convinced, that having sex with a woman would "cure" him of his lusting desires for men- specifically, muscular men. He knew, from his conservative religious upbringing that homosex was sinful, and that sex was designed by God to be between a married man and woman.

But on their wedding night, Ethan found himself making love to a hunky bodybuilder, not the petite woman whom he was actually fucking. And so, the hope that marriage would cure him was forever lost; so Ethan's continued in his routine of associating sex with powerful, beautiful, muscular physiques, even though he occasionally had to do it with Tia. In his mind, he was always in bed with a gorgeous, muscly man.

Now mind you, Ethan had never actually done it with a guy. He'd never been unfaithful to Tia. At least physically. But you know what the Bible says, if you even lust after a woman (or in Ethan's case, a man) you've already committed the sin.

Such a conundrum.

Ethan's apparent lack of libido had prompted Tia to "encourage" him to have the doctor prescribe the little blue pill. And that did give him a nice rigid erection. But Ethan's problem wasn't with getting it up.

Tia also insisted that they go to counseling. Sometimes as a couple; sometimes Ethan would go alone. Funny, she never saw the need for her to go alone.

Anyway, as Tia finished her breakfast, she dismissed the chance to start in again. She stood and put her dish and cup in the sink. She made some innocuous observation about the moving truck that was parked across the cul-de-sac in front of the Powell's old house. Then she went upstairs.

Forty-five minutes later, she was backing out the driveway. Ethan watched from the living room, happy to have the house to himself for the whole day. When Tia's Subaru turned the corner, he glanced across the cul-de-sac at the moving truck.

The "For Sale" sign hadn't even been taken down from the Powell's place, and someone was already moving in. The doors of the moving van were still closed up, and it didn't look like anyone was over there yet; but Ethan was sure that there would soon be a bunch of activity. He'd have to keep his eye out for the new neighbors. For Ethan, it was fodder for fantasy: A new neighbor moves in, and he's Mr. Muscles. All gorgeous and ripped. Bulging lumps of power all over his body. And maybe he's single? Doubt it. The Powell's place was a four-bedroom behemoth. No single dude would move in there. But maybe he's just a muscular daddy of two toddlers? Who knows... At the least, maybe one of the movers might be a hunk...

About the time Ethan finished straightening out the shed in the back (it took maybe 15 minutes; not much needed to be done, really), he heard the big doors of the moving truck slam open and people starting to talk out at the street. He went into the house and stood in the living room, watching the activity.

Most of the action was happening on the far side of the huge moving truck, so Ethan wasn't able to see. A few minutes later, he was walking down the driveway, ostensibly to welcome the new neighbors, but also to check out if his "new neighbor fantasy," or his "muscular moving-dude fantasy," had any chance at coming true.

To his disappointment, the moving guys didn't look like they had ever darkened the door of a gym. One was skinnier than Barney Fife, and the other was his opposite: overweight, slow and unkempt.

Ethan nodded to the two men as they unloaded a bed. The garage doors were open (all three of them), and the front door to the house was open as well. A few boxes were in the garage and a table sat on the lawn. Clearly, they were just beginning the unloading process. There was almost no furniture yet inside the house.

Movement inside the garage caught Ethan's eye, and he turned.

Holy shit. Maybe one of the movers was muscle after all! God almighty, this guy was more than mere muscle! He was top-shelf, professional-grade, off-the-charts huge! And ripped! He wore a sleeveless bright white T-shirt, and denim cut-offs. The guy's wide shoulders looked like they could fill one of the garage doors all by themselves! And hanging from those shoulders were a pair of the most painfully huge, cephalic-vein-lined arms Ethan had ever seen. Or imagined possible! Triceps bulged. Biceps twitched with striated fibers of muscular definition.

The guy was partially bent over, looking through some of the boxes that were strewn on the garage floor- strange activity for a mover guy; you'd think they'd just be stacking the boxes, not actually looking through them for an item.

But that was the thing. What Ethan was about to learn was that this muscle god wasn't a mover at all.

The guy looked up and his eyes met Ethan. He smiled, stopped his search for whatever it was, and walked out of the garage. "You must be one of my new neighbors," he said, extending his hand. "I'm Michael Wood," he said.

Ethan was blown away. The guy was a good two or three inches taller than his own six-feet; he was younger looking than Ethan too, although a man with such huge development seemed anachronistic to such a young age. You'd have to spend decades inside a gym to get this huge and ripped!

"Ethan. Ethan Shaker. Welcome to the neighborhood," Ethan said, shaking the huge man's hand.

Michael was just all kinds of pleasing to look at. Even if he weren't the most slwole being in the universe (which he definitely seemed to be) Ethan was immediately lost in the guy's deep, dark eyes. Eyelashes that any woman would dye for. Short-cropped black hair. A genuine, confident, flawless smile. In short, he made Ethan's gut ache. He had no defect, and all of his positive traits were magnified.

"Wow, you guys didn't waste any time getting moved in. The Powells said they were closing only a few days ago," Ethan said.

"Yeah, we had to get everything going fast," Michael said. "My husband got transferred to the city last month, and he's been staying at the Residence Inn. He's been itching to move in ever since we found this place."

"Husband?" Ethan queried.

Michael smiled. "Yeah, Steve and I were married as soon as it became legal, in Massachusetts."

"That's- that's cool," Ethan smiled. "Wow, times sure are changing, aren't they." His heart was beating so fast now that he feared he was going to have a panic attack.

Michael smiled. "Yes, they are." He paused as he looked around at the other houses in the cul-de-sac, then turned back to Ethan. "And you really don't know how people are going to react, you know? We have lived in an urban setting since... well since before we even knew each other. It's more conducive to acceptance of gays. So, we kind of thought this might be a big step, moving into the burbs."

"Yeah, I can understand that," Ethan said. "I think you'll find pretty-much everyone on our little street pretty open, though." He glanced at one house in particular and then added, "Well, most of them, anyway."

Michael nodded. "Yeah we kind of expected that. But we have two adopted kids, and we wanted to get settled before they're old enough to go to school... so here we are!" he smiled.

"Wow, that's cool," Ethan said. "I'm really excited for you guys. It's going to be cool to have you as neighbors."

"You live in that house?" Michael asked, pointing to Ethan and Tia's place on the other side of the moving van.

"Yeah, Tia and me... been there about five years now."

Michael nodded. His thick bull-neck was like a fire plug. "Any kids?"

"No. No kids." Ethan figured a first meeting like this wasn't the place to go into details, but a sub-plot of his and Tia's rare sex activity (at least rare together) also involved the fact that they hadn't been able to get pregnant. Of course, the frequency of sex doesn't necessarily relate to the ability to get pregnant; but Tia thought the connection was a strong one. Regardless, in spite of taking medical steps to help the process along, they were still childless- a state for which Ethan was slowly beginning to be thankful. As his proverbial vehicle had seemingly found this dead-end spot on his highway of life, throwing it in reverse would be a lot easier if you didn't have little kids to consider. Of course, Ethan was nowhere near to throwing it in reverse. Or so he thought. He was just, in his mind, sitting at the dead-end, trying to figure out what to do next. His religious upbringing would preclude putting it in "R," yet his mind was already re-evaluating his religious beliefs as well.

"Well, I should get back to unpacking," Michael finally said. "Steve's bringing the stuff he's had at his hotel this afternoon, and I've got a lot of work to do myself."

"Oh, don't let me keep you, man," Ethan said. "And is there anything I can do to help?"

"Naw, the two moving guys are going to do most of the work. But thanks for the offer."

"Well, if you need anything, I'll be home all day. I'm on vacation this week and next. Just jog on over if you need anything. Tools, a cup of sugar, whatever..." Ethan chuckled.

Michael laughed. "I will. Thanks, man."

Ethan walked back to his house and started making plans for some lunch with his enormous, rippling new neighbor. But first, he had an appointment with his bathroom sink.

Certainly, the next few minutes were a testament to the fact that Ethan did not need a little blue pill. He had hardened into a steel pole even before he stepped out of his boxers. Dripping with pre-cum, he moved his fingers over his vein-lined cock while he recalled the image of his new neighbor. That sleeveless shirt was just perfect. Those shoulders were boulders of muscle! And although Ethan wasn't good with estimating the numbers, he was willing to bet that Michael's guns were well in excess of 20 inches. You didn't see bazookas like than unless they were hanging on a pro bodybuilder, really.

Then there was that chest.

God please.

A chest so thick that it was pretty-much horizontal where it met his neck! The two globes of pectoral masses were just astounding, even covered by that T-shirt.

Ethan didn't even get a chance to recall Michael's gigantic legs, although he certainly had noted the two trunks of muscle when he originally acquainted himself with the musclegod. No, as soon as Ethan recalled that massive chest, he was done. Long, powerful ropes of semen flew out of his cock and landed on the mirror of his bathroom. Subsequent blasts landed in the bowl of the sink and on the faucet. For the second time that day, Ethan found himself cleaning his seed off his body and bathroom.

• • • • •

Michael had gladly accepted Ethan's offer to bring lunch over. The two mover guys had brought lunch boxes and pretty much sat in the shade of a front-yard tree while they took their lunch break. Michael invited Ethan into the kitchen.

"Sorry the guys don't have the kitchen table unloaded yet," he apologized, "But we can sit on the island counter, I guess."

Ethan unwrapped the three "foot-long" sub sandwiches he had bought. "I figured you must eat a horse for every meal, so this might not be enough. And if it's too much, you have left overs for your next meal."

"This is great. Thanks, man," Michael smiled. "And it's only the hind-quarters of a horse, not the whole thing," he added.

Touché. The subject of Michael's massive body had been successfully broached.

"God, I have no doubt that's true," Ethan said, taking a bite of his sandwich. "How do you get so big? And yet I can see you're really lean, too."

"Thanks," Michael smiled, also taking a bite. "It's just a lifestyle, I guess. I try to eat clean most of the time, and I stick to my workout routine religiously. And good genetics don't hurt, either."

"God, yeah," Ethan said.

Michael took a sip of the beer Ethan and brought, then, nodding at Ethan's body said, "You don't look like a stranger to the gym either."

Ethan had to fight from turning red. That someone as perfect as Michael would notice his own build was indeed flattering. "Well, thanks. But someone like me is just a wannabe in your presence." He wondered where he should draw the line, as far as fawning all over Michael. Surely the muscle giant got tired of people gawking and making over his physique. Yet, he didn't want to pass up the opportunity to let Michael know how much he liked what he saw. "You gotta compete, right?"

"I've been on stage a few times,"Michael smiled. "Not as much, lately. Having two little ones takes a lot of commitment."

"How old are they?"

"They're identical twins," Michael said. "Almost three."

"That's awesome," Ethan smiled.

"Yeah, they're the best. I'm fortunate that I get to be the stay-at-home dad," Michael said. "Steve tries to get off early when he can, so we do try and share the responsibilities. But I'm glad I can stay home. I run a little business from home, too, so it works out pretty well. I just love those two tykes."

Ethan had just taken a big bite, so he didn't get the opportunity to ask Michael what kind of business he ran, before Michael continued.

"So, what do you do?" the musclegod asked.

"Sales," Ethan answered as he swallowed his bite. "Pharmaceuticals."

Michael nodded.

"And Tia's an event planner in town."

Michael's gigantic forearms wriggled and pulsed with every minuscule movement of his fingers as he held his sandwich. And as he chewed, his fat-free face muscles bulged, especially near his temples, with every movement of his jaw. The guy was driving Ethan insane.

And he's gay. Ethan didn't even know what it might mean, as far as opportunity goes.

Of course, Michael was married. But who knew what that meant... Maybe they have an "open" marriage. Ethan wondered what Steve looked like... He wondered how Tia would react to their new neighbors. He didn't even get to the point where he considered telling Michael about his own gay feelings. That didn't even cross his mind.

Yet.

• • • • •

"Ethan, I'm home. Did you get the shed cleaned out?"

Of course, the first words out of Tia's mouth would be to hold her husband accountable to the task she had assigned. No, how was your day?, no, did you get to have lunch with Mark?

"Yes, I did," Ethan called from the den, quickly closing his web browser and deleting the cache. "And how was your day?" he asked.

Tia was rooting through her work satchel she had just thrown on the kitchen table when Ethan walked in.

"Shitty," she said without looking up. "Jonah was in a fit about our presentation at the convention. Says we need to come in tomorrow and Sunday. The guy's a bastard."

"What about the barbecue Sunday?"

"I told him I'd come in tomorrow, but not Sunday. He'll just have to deal with it. He knows he can't survive without me, so he'll just have to deal with it," she answered, abandoning whatever it was that she'd been looking for. "Whatever I can't fix tomorrow, I'll just have to fix when we're in Indianapolis."

She looked up at Ethan, paused and stared, but didn't say anything.

"What." Ethan finally asked.

Tia's look was uncaring. "What did you do all day?" she snapped.

Ethan tried, but he just couldn't hide his contempt. He looked sideways, shaking his head. "What do you mean?" he asked. "I don't get a, 'How was your day?' no, 'I'm sorry I have to work such long hours?' just 'What did you do all day?'"

Tia returned the contempt, and turned away from Ethan, opening the kitchen cabinet where they stored a few pills. She grabbed the ibuprofen and took three.

"This is my vacation, you know," Ethan continued. "I'm sorry if you find it scandalous that I actually relax and rest on my vacation."

"Which reminds me," she retorted as she finished swallowing her pills. "Why is it you always like to take vacations when I have huge events coming up? Why don't we ever take vacations together anymore?"

"Tia, let's not start," Ethan said with his hands spread in front of him. "It's late. You're tired; I'm tired. And there's no reason for us to re-hash all of this."

Tia glowered, but in truth, she wasn't up to an all-out either. She was exhausted. To Ethan's surprise, she actually backed down. "Okay," she said, sighing. "You're right. I just want to go to bed." She turned and walked into the living room, heading up toward the bedroom. Although the street was dark- it was nearly 10:00- the street light cast an amber glow through the large front window. "I see the moving van is gone. Did you meet the new neighbors?" she asked. She continued walking, and Ethan didn't know if she actually expected an answer. If she did, she obviously expected Ethan to follow her, because she wasn't stopping.

"I met one of them," Ethan said. "The husband." Then he added under his breath, "Well, one of them, anyway." He chuckled as he turned off the kitchen light and followed his wife upstairs.

"Oh? What's he like?" Tia asked, throwing her purse on the bed, walking into the bath.

Ethan hoped he had done a good enough job cleaning off his jizz from the mirror. He was pretty anal about cleaning up after himself, so it had never been a problem; but sometimes he panicked inside, wondering if he had gotten every speck. So far, he'd never left a trace of his cum for Tia to find.

However, he had once left another kind of trace of his activities: It was picture, and he accidentally left it out on the credenza behind his den's desk. He had been wanking while he surfed the web, and had found a particularly erotic picture of two gay muscledudes going at it. He liked it so much he had decided to print it out for enjoyment later that week at work.

A number of minutes later, as he was driving to an afternoon workout at his gym, to his horror he remembered he had sat the picture next to the printer, behind the desk, and had left it there! He pulled a fast U-turn and made a beeline for home. Tia had taken her place at his desk right before he left for his workout, and he prayed to God that she hadn't turned around to fetch anything from the printer. He knew if she had, she'd find the picture, and his cover would be blown. Their marriage would be changed irreparably.

"What'd you forget?" Tia had asked, without looking up from the computer, as Ethan had entered the den.

"Oh, just some workout routine I was working on. Forgot to take it with me and I wanted to use it today," Ethan said. His heart was in his throat as he retrieved the picture from not even three feet behind Tia.

She hadn't turned around.

"Hmm..." she grunted, uninterested.

"What's he like?" Tia repeated, emerging from the bathroom, bringing Ethan back to the present.

"Well..." Ethan started. He doubted Tia was going to be pleased with the lifestyle "choice" of their new neighbors, even though she had never towed the conservative line as much as he had.

"Well, what?" she asked, smearing some kind of makeup removing cream all over her face.

"He's really nice."

"They have kids?"

"Yeah. Twin boys," Ethan said. He turned and walked, nonchalantly, into their walk-in closet as he continued talking.

"What's she do?" Tia asked a little louder, returning to the bathroom.

Ethan emerged from the closet holding a T-shirt and boxers for sleep. "Well, that's just it. There is no 'she.'"

"I thought you said you met the husband," she said as she worked on herself at the sink. "Doesn't that imply there's a wife?"

"It used to," Ethan said, struggling to hold down an out-an-out grin.

"You're playing games with me, Ethan."

"There's no 'she,'" he repeated, "because there are two 'he's,'"

Tia poked her half-make-up-free face around the corner of the bathroom doorway. "Really? Are you serious? Here on Wisteria Circle? Two gay guys?" she blinked her eyes, not wanting to appear judgmental or bigoted, but surprised, nonetheless. "With kids?" She visibly shook her head now, and then blinked her eyes again. Retreating back to the sink, she asked, "So, wow. I mean... wow." After a few-second pause, she asked, "Is he effeminate?"

Ethan found himself reacting to that question with surprising indignation, but he didn't show it in his response. "No, he's not effeminate at all. I would never have guessed."

"I wonder what his... his husband is like. You didn't meet him, you said?"

Ethan loved the emphasis she placed on "husband," but he didn't hold her in contempt. Gay marriage was still novel enough that it certainly wasn't mainstream by any stretch of the imagination. "No just Michael. Husband's name is Steve. The boys are just under three."

"Wow," Tia said, again emerging only far enough to stand in the bathroom doorway. "I guess, welcome to the 21st century, huh?"

"Yeah. Guess so."

Tia cocked her head in a quizzical manner. "So what do you think? How do you think the neighbors are going to react?"

Ethan lifted his polo shirt over his head, revealing a very muscular upper torso, a sight that never disappointed Tia. "I dunno. I think, for the most part, it'll be okay," he answered. "I would guess the McDonnoughs will be just fine with it. Probably Bart & Cindy too."

"The Tates- I wonder how they'll respond," Tia interrupted. "They go to that mega-church over in Rockdale. I hear they don't preach a lot about tolerance there."

"Yeah. That'll be interesting," Ethan smiled.

Tia cracked a bit of a grin herself. "You look like you're going to enjoy this. Seeing how the cul-de-sac reacts."

"Well, should be interesting. What do you think about it? You okay with it?" he asked.

"I'm totally fine about it," she said. "Like I said, time to embrace the 21st century." Her expression became quizzical again. "But how about you? I would think your background would make you a little hesitant to embrace this. I mean, we used to be pretty entrenched in the turn-or-burn gospel... both of us."

"Used to," Ethan said.

Tia finished enjoying Ethan's upper body, as he pulled on a sleeping T-shirt; she turned back to the bathroom. "Yeah, used to," she said. "Whatever happened to that? We've become backsliders, haven't we?" she chuckled.

"Well if I thought I was a backslider, I'd be making sure to get back to church," Ethan said as he pulled on his boxers. "But I'm changing my perspective on that now."

"Really?" Tia said. "I guess that doesn't surprise me. I suppose I feel the same way too. That mindset is just too judgmental. Too restrictive."

"Kinda 20th century, right?" Ethan said.

"I guess."

• • • • •

The next day, Saturday, Tia drove in to work as she had said she would; and Ethan fixed his eyes, and affections, on his new neighbors across the street, as he knew he would.

A very well-muscled blond dude- young and extraordinarily proportioned- appeared, occasionally, in the open garage, then occasionally in the front yard, which was strewn with miscellaneous moving items. He had long, dishwater hair, was wearing a light blue tank top, and was quite gorgeous. He examined the boxes in the yard on each trip, selected a few of them, then took some of them into the house. He was muscular, but not anywhere near Michael's league, yet in his own way, he was truly a hunk with whom to be reckoned. If Ethan didn't have Michael to compare with this guy, Ethan would definitely be all over this new blond.

This must be Steve, Ethan thought.

And he was right.

A few seconds later, Ethan's hypothesis was confirmed. He watched, as Michael greeted the blond hunk in the garage, and as Ethan gazed lustily at the scene across the street, the two men kissed, hugged briefly, and then parted- each returning to his own duties.

Ethan was completely turned on: This beyond-human muscular Michael, embracing and kissing the blond Adonis in the garage. It was more than erotic.

Oh god.

And this duo was going to be living right across the street?

Please, Lord, don't let it be so.

Yet, please, Lord, let it be so!

Ethan could barely comprehend the ramifications of what he was seeing- what he was worshipping. How could he deal with this? How could he contain himself? Hercules & Adonis- gay lovers- living just across his street! And these gods love to kiss?!

Ethan gathered his wits and prepared, as best he could, to cross the street and greet his new neighbors.

"Hey neighbor!" Michael called out as Ethan approached. The muscle giant called into the kitchen for his husband to come out to the garage. "Steve, this is our neighbor, Ethan," he introduced.

Ethan shook hands with Steve, and noted the golden-tan, perfect skin tone of the blond's face. He was a more muscular version of Chris Hemsworth. "Glad to meet you," Steve said as they shook. His voice was deep and resonant, vibrating right to the core of Ethan's center.

Ethan glanced around and asked, "Where are your boys?"

"They're at Grammy's place until we get settled," Steve answered. "My mom's place over in Rockdale," he clarified.

"I see," Ethan said. "Well, is there anything I can help you with? Need anything at all?"

The two hunks looked at each other, then back at Ethan. "I think we're good for now," Michael answered.

"Great," Ethan smiled. "Well, if you need anything at all, you know where I live!"

The two men laughed and thanked their new neighbor, and Ethan started across the street. He stopped abruptly and returned to invite the two men to the barbecue he and Tia would be having the next day. The Woods didn't make a commitment, but assured Ethan they'd drop by if they got the chance.

• • • • •

The smell of chicken cooking on the grill filled the Shaker's back yard; most of the cul-de-sac neighbors were in attendance, each having brought beer, salads, meat, and other fixin's. The four families got along very well (used to be five, before the Powells moved away), and during the summer months, they usually had three or four get-togethers like this. All of the houses, except the Powell's old place, had pools in their back yards, but the Shaker's place had the nicest, biggest yard and pool.

The back patio was alive with laughter and joking, as well as varying degrees of conversation about the gay couple who was moving into the Powell's old place.

Yet the fun and conversation came to an abrupt stop when two men, and two little boys, walked around the corner into the back yard. All eyes turned to Michael & Steve, and their twins. The dark-haired one was absolutely huge! It didn't seem possible that a man could possess that much rippling muscle.

"Sorry to interrupt," Michael smiled, "but we rang the doorbell. Decided to come on around since it sounded like the party was in full swing back here."

Ethan wiped his hands on his BBQ apron and quickly greeted the new neighbors. "Nonsense! You're not interrupting anything!" he smiled. He shook the two men's hands, then turned to the neighbors in attendance. "Hey all, these are the guys who are moving into the Powell's place. Everyone, this is Michael & Steve Wood."

The group gave a friendly wave and call-out.

Ethan crouched down to get at eye-level with the two blond three-year-olds. "And these must be the twins," he smiled.

"That's Trent, and this one is Trevor," Steve said. The two boys shook Ethan's hand shyly.

Ethan stood erect. "Well, please, join us," he said, motioning to the new neighbors to come farther into the yard. "The meat's almost ready and it looks like we've got everything set out."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Michael said, "we didn't bring anything."

"Nonsense," Ethan smiled. "You guys haven't even finished unpacking, I bet. Just make yourself at home. This'll be your welcome to the neighborhood."

"Thanks. Thanks so much," Steve said to Ethan, and then generally to his other new neighbors.

Tia, obviously taken aback by the sheer pulchritude of the two men, especially the magnetic field created by Michael's stunning physique, smiled as she approached her husband to let him introduce her.

But Tia wasn't the only one blown away. As the two men made the rounds, meeting the others, it was difficult for the neighbors not to gawk.

Steve, in a light blue T-shirt that gorgeously complimented his blond hair and tan skin, looked like he had just walked out of a magazine. Built, and so well-proportioned, he was indeed an Adonis. But of course, it was Michael, wearing a fatigue-print tank top, who sent everyone into a trance. Ethan grabbed an occasional glance at a neighbor, to see their reaction to Michael's incredible physique, and he wasn't disappointed in the responses that he saw.

A few of the families in the group had grade-school-age boys, and these kids were in awe of the superman who now walked among them.

"You in the military?" one of the neighbor men asked Michael as they ate.

"Naw," he answered, acknowledging his fatigue-print tank top. "Just a gift Steve gave me," he smiled.

"Well, you certainly look like you could be in the military," the neighbor smiled, obviously trying to take in the enormity of Michael's rippling body.

As Michael & Steve got acquainted with everyone, and it became apparent just how friendly the two men were, it was left to one of the grade-school boys to most overtly bring up the subject of Michael's ripped physique.

"How much can you bench?" young Porter Johnson asked as Michael worked on a chicken breast.

Michael smiled and said, "Well, that depends." He rumpled the kid's hair with a big grin. "You mean with a bench shirt or do you mean raw?"

Those closest to Michael and Porter hushed themselves to hear the number that would be revealed.

"What's a bench shirt?" Porter asked.

"It's a special, tight-fitting shirt that power lifters wear. It's very tight, and it makes you able to lift more weight," Michael said. "So there are really two numbers that power lifters talk about. Raw, means without any special lifting shirt or gear."

"Okay, then both," Porter asked; his 12-year-old eyes were glued on the friendly muscle monster.

Michael laughed. "Okay. Well, raw, I've done 645 pounds."

Someone dropped a beer can onto the cement patio, then quickly picked it up.

"And with a shirt," he continued, "I've done just over 800 pounds."

"No shit?" Porter's dad exclaimed. "God, and you look more like a bodybuilder than a power lifter."

Michael smiled. "Done a little of both, really."

"Amazing," Ethan said. "Just amazing."

"Can I see your muscle?" Porter then asked.

"Okay, Porter," his dad interrupted, "let's not embarrass our new neighbor before he's even unpacked."

A few people laughed.

"There'll be time for that later," the kid's dad continued. "Let's leave Michael alone and let him eat."

"No problem," Michael said to the dad and Porter. "Maybe after we get all settled, you guys can come over and you can look at some of my trophies."

"Sure!" Porter beamed.

A few of the other kids exclaimed an interest in attending as well.

About a half hour later, Michael & Steve apologized for eating and running, but explained they needed to get back to their unpacking chores. Plus, the twins were acting like they might need a nap.

After the new family left the barbecue, the topic of conversation necessarily centered around not only Michael's incredible build, and Steve's corresponding good looks, but just the idea of having a gay couple in the neighborhood. It was definitely something new for all of these suburb-dwellers. And there were varying degrees of comfort and acceptance, but all-in-all, Ethan got the impression that the acceptance by the majority seemed to silence any objection by the minority. Of course, discussions in private would undoubtedly bring out more personal thoughts.

But the feelings of the majority (especially most of the women, but certainly not limited to that gender) were most succinctly summed-up by Barbara Maddox when she said, "Well, I for one, don't care at all what they do behind closed doors, as long as that Michael promises to mow his lawn with his shirt off."

"God yes," Tia agreed.

Everyone laughed.

• • • • •

Ethan's second week of vacation began with him taking Tia to the airport early Monday morning. She'd be at the convention all week; a fact that pleased Ethan to no end. Not only would he have the house all to his masturbating self, he'd also have the opportunity to get to know Michael better, without the pesky irritation of his wife being present.

As soon as he returned home from the airport, Ethan walked over to the Wood's place and rang the bell.

Michael answered, and the twins were apparently in the kitchen, loudly having breakfast.

"Hey, Michael," Ethan started, "it's supposed to be a scorcher today, and I just wanted to invite you and the boys over to use the pool. Actually, I want you and Steve to feel free to come on over whenever you want. I'm on vacation all this week, and I don't have any real plans, so... mi casa es su casa," he smiled.

"Wow, thanks very much!" Michael smiled. "You know, I just might take you up on that! The boys would probably love that."

Michael asked if they could exchange phone numbers so he could call before he came over, and just after noon, when the thermometer pushed into the upper 80's, daddy Michael and the twins were in the Shaker's back yard. Ethan made lemonade for the boys, and opened some beers for Michael and himself.

The muscle behemoth wore a red tank top and swimming trunks that covered most of his upper legs. Ethan suspected that they had been tailored- taken in at the waist- because the smallness of the waistband looked almost cartoonish compared to the breadth of the legs.

"The boys are really excited," Michael said as he removed their T-shirts. "Steve & I started them in swimming lessons this summer, so they're becoming more and more comfortable with the water. This is really nice of you; it'll be nice to give them more exposure."

Oh, believe me, Michael, it isn't the twins' exposure I'm interested in, Ethan chuckled to himself. "My pleasure," he smiled. "Got this beautiful pool back here, and it'd be a shame for you all not to get some enjoyment from it." ...and for me to get some enjoyment out of seeing you shirtless...

Michael held the hand of each of his sons, walking them to the stairs of the pool; Ethan sat down in a chaise lounge, and prepared to pick up a book to look like he wasn't watching. Michael's broad back faced Ethan; even his tank top couldn't hide the fact that the giant's lats were just fucking amazing wings of muscle. When the three got to the edge of the pool, Michael told the boys to stand for a minute. He let go of their hands, turned slightly to one side, and then lifted his tank top upward. It took a good two or three seconds to get it all the way up over his massive upper torso, but it was well worth the wait as far as Ethan was concerned.

Ethan had to swallow hard in order to not let out an audible gasp.

Michael's shaved body glistened in the mid-day sun. He tossed the tank on a nearby chaise.

Oh holy, fucking shit.

Standing there, right at the edge of Ethan's pool, Michael was every fantasy Ethan had ever had. More than his fantasies. Ethan couldn't have ever imagined such masculine, powerful, huge pulchritude even existing. And here he was, in Ethan's back yard.

As Michael faced slightly to one side, his gigantic pectorals pushed so far forward that they formed a table of meat- a table on which it actually looked possible to set a meal. Multiple inches of cleavage formed the deep canyon between each pectoral, and even though he wasn't actually flexing anything, his chest rippled, involuntarily, with striated lines of muscle fibers. The cantilevered projections of those babies protruded so far out that Michael's dark brown nipples actually pointed downward where the pecs dove inward to the intersection with his insanely-defined abdominals.

The cliché, "cannonball deltoids," was created for Michael's shoulders. They were just gorgeous, huge, round balls of muscle, projecting a strength that made Ethan lightheaded.

Ever since Michael had arrived in the backyard, Ethan had been fighting an erection that would surely blow his cover if noticed by the musclegod, and as he reclined in his chaise, he continued his struggle to make it behave- a struggle in which he was not entirely successful. He hid himself with a pool towel just in case Michael were to look in his direction. The cock in his swimming trunks was as hard as it had ever been.

Michael's shoulders capped the top of a pair of arms that would have left Ethan at a loss for words, were he called upon to describe them. Just mind-boggling. Defined biceps (with that cephalic vein that turned Ethan on to no end) danced in coordinated symphony with unearthly mounded triceps. As he re-grasped his son's hands and they prepared to step down the first step, Michael's arms involuntarily rippled with brain-shattering power, bulging all over hell with a manly, unintentional display of cock-tightening muscle.

The trio took a step into the water, and Michael's calves hardened with the movement, forming diamond-shaped bulges of muscle.

Also involuntarily, at that moment, Ethan pressed on his cock in his trunks. He didn't even realize it; nor could he help it.

At that point, he realized that if he didn't get out of there, he'd come. And he couldn't do that with the kids right there. But if he were to stay and watch Michael start to play with the boys, the muscle man would surely start lifting and splashing and doing all sorts of muscle-displaying actions- actions that Ethan would not be able to witness without orgasmic release.

Desperate to extricate himself from this situation, Ethan rose form his recliner and made for the kitchen slider, telling Michael and the boys to enjoy themselves, and that if they needed anything, just holler.

As was his practice, Ethan made for his master suite's bathroom to relieve himself of his churning, pressurized load. Minutes later, he let out a loud groan as his cock blasted out repeated shots onto his bathroom mirror. He hoped it hadn't been loud enough for any of his swimming guests to year; he stifled any more verbal outbursts and enjoyed the remainder of his orgasm in relative silence.

Ethan checked in on his backyard guests occasionally, but he realized that he couldn't risk just plopping himself down near the pool. Michael was a vortex of sex to Ethan. Irresistible sexual eroticism.

"You be sure to bring them back tomorrow," Ethan said as Michael and the boys prepared to leave, an hour or so later. "Seriously. You're always welcome."

"Oh, thanks," Michael said, "but tomorrow is their day with Steve's mom, Grammy. She likes to have them over once a week."

"Oh... well, you feel free to come on over by yourself!" Ethan smiled. "If you don't have plans..."

"That's very nice, Ethan," he replied as he pulled a T-shirt over one of the boys' head, "but you're on vacation. I really don't want to intrude."

"Michael," Ethan said matter-of-fact, "it's no intrusion at all. Really. I'd enjoy having you over." Goddayamn! Would I EVER enjoy having you over... all alone!

"You sure?" Michael said with a reserved grin.

"Sure. Let's plan on noon, okay?"

"Well, okay then! I'll be over at noon!"

• • • • •

"How'd the first day of the convention go?" Ethan asked Tia as he lay on his bed later that night. He lightly nursed his man-meat as he conversed with his wife on his cellphone.

"Oh, in spite of Jonah's conniption fit, everything went off without a hitch," she said. "But I'm beat. Stood on my feet all day long. Only sat down for a quick bite of lunch. That was it."

"Wow. I bet you're exhausted."

"Yeah," she continued. "So, how about you? How'd your day go?"

"Was good. Just relaxing and good."

Ethan could hear the smile in Tia's voice as she asked, "Did our new gay neighbors try to convert you or anything?" she chuckled.

"Yeah, right," Ethan chuckled back. Sweetie, I don't NEED converting. He didn't want to leave that topic just hanging out there, so he added, "Actually, Michael brought the twins over for a swim in the pool for awhile. Those boys are so cute."

"And Michael swam?"

"Yeah."

"With his shirt off?"

Ethan knew that Tia appreciated a well-built man. She had, many times, expressed her approval of Ethan's hard work at the gym. She sometimes expressed disdain for the endless hours he actually spent there, but she never complained about the results, that's for sure.

"Oh, he wore a full body suit. Said he's allergic to the sun," Ethan joked.

"Riiiiight."

"Yes, with his shirt off," Ethan said, smiling.

"God, what does he look like?"

"He's one buff dude, that's for sure," Ethan said. He found it ironic how both he and his wife were turned on by big muscles.

• • • • •

Ethan made sure he was present when little Porter and his dad, Bob, paid the previously-promised visit to see Michael's trophys the next morning. Even though it would only be a few hours before he'd be enjoying Michael in all of his swimming-trunk-clad glory, there was no way in hell he was going to pass up the opportunity to see Michael flex his arm for the youngster- maybe even watch as Porter copped a feel...

"So, we use this bedroom as kind of our mancave," Michael said, inviting Ethan, Bob and Porter to enter. Not all of the boxes had yet been unpacked, but there was a nice big-screen TV on one wall, a couch and a recliner, and on another wall, shelves filled with trophies and pictures of Michael over the years, in both bodybuilding and power lifting contests. Some of the trophies were quite large.

"Holy shi..." Ethan caught himself before he cussed in front of Porter. "I mean, good grief. These are amazing!"

"Thanks," Michael said kindly.

The three guests examined the trophies, and took extra time to look at the pictures of Michael up on stage.

"Can I see your muscle now?" Porter then asked.

Michael glanced at Bob, as if to receive permission, and apparently he either got it, or at least didn't get the idea that Bob cared, because he crouched down to Porter's level and pulled back the sleeve on his T-shirt to expose his upper arm. He smiled at Porter, slowly bent his elbow, and tightened his biceps.

Holy shit indeed.

The soccer-ball-sized upper arm flexed into a rock formation that was mind-boggling. Then, the top of the biceps began to grow even more, splitting into two distinct heads of separated muscle! Unbelievable, vein-lined muscle flexed and dance for the admiring guests, and Ethan found himself once again fighting his primal lusts.

"Woooowwwww!" Porter exclaimed. "It's huge!" His face was bright with delight and amazement. He watched in awe as Michael twisted his forearm and made the muscles ripple.

"God, no wonder you have so many trophies," Bob exclaimed. "That is so totally impressive."

"Thanks," Michael said, still crouching in front of the 7th-grader.

"Can I feel it?" Porter asked.

"Have at it, tyke," Michael smiled.

Initially, Porter's hand landed on the very top of the biceps peak. "It's so hard!" he beamed. As the muscle giant held the pose, Porter's hand began to move over each distinct mound of muscle. Michael twisted his up-raised forearm again, treating the kid to the feel of his rippling, bulging, huge muscle. In seconds, Porter had placed his other hand on the flexing arm; his two hands covered only the smallest percentage of the thing.

Ethan couldn't take it any more. Unable to control his body, he began to fill his shorts with his hot, creamy load. Amazingly, he was able to remain relatively still, minimizing any jerking caused by the powerful volleys. Or so he hoped. As he watched Michael dazzle with his inhuman display of muscle, he could feel his lower torso become warm with the liquid that his cock was spewing. After a few seconds he was done; but he knew he needed to clean up as soon as possible.

"Hey Michael, could I use your bathroom?" Ethan asked.

Smiling, Michael relaxed his arm and stood tall. "Sure. You alright?"

"Yeah, just need to... you know... go," Ethan smiled faintly.

"Yeah, it's right across the hallway. Door's open. You'll see it."

"Thanks," Ethan said, exiting as discretely as possible.

• • • • •

"Glad you're here," Ethan found himself saying as he opened his front door a few hours later. "Come on in."

"Sweet," Michael smiled. "Thanks again for the invite." As he walked inside, he put his big, long arm around Ethan and gave a friendly bro-to-bro quickie hug. Apparently they were good enough friends to have physical contact now.

Michael wore the same T-shirt he had worn during the little muscle show earlier in the day, and the same swimming trunks he had worn the previous day. He carried a pool towel in one hand, rolled into a cylinder.

As the two men walked out onto the back patio, Ethan said, "That little Porter sure is impressed with you."

"Yeah, he's a cute kid," Michael responded.

"I bet you get that a lot. From kids, as well as adults."

"Yeah, it's always nice to get compliments."

Ethan led the way by taking his shirt off first.

Michael sat his rolled-up towel on a chair and did likewise.

And Ethan just watched, in unabashed awe. "God, man. I'm sorry, but you're just amazing."

"Thanks," Michael smiled. "Like I said, it's always good to get compliments." Then, he winked at Ethan.

Was there some kind of subtle message there?

Then to Ethan's surprise and total delight, Michael danced his pecs, alternately, a few times. He grinned. "To tell you the truth, I thought you might want to see my posing routine, so..." he bent over to his towel as he talked, and un-rolled it, "...I brought some posers." Inside the towel, he had placed some skimpy, black posing trunks. "If you're interested. Maybe later..."

Ethan knew he had to get into the water, and fast. His cock threatened to rear up and mutiny at any moment. As it was, he knew he'd be hopelessly unable to disguise his raging hard-on. The safety of the pool water was his only hope of hiding the throbbing pipe in his swim trunks. He made it to waist level, then turned around to view his god. "That'd be cool," he finally responded to Michael's offer.

"I just figured that since you obviously work out yourself, you might want to see..." the muscle man smiled as he walked down the steps toward his host. His body of muscle towered over Ethan, even after he arrived at the floor level of the pool.

Michael looked around the beautiful, manicured back yard, slowly walking around in the shallow end. "You have a really nice place here," he complimented.

"Thanks," Ethan said. "We really like it here."

"I think Steve and I are really going to enjoy the people in the cul-de-sac," Michael said.

"Yeah. They're good people. Good friends."

Then Michael turned toward Ethan and said, "You've been so welcoming to us." He took a step toward Ethan and continued. "Steven was commenting to me how much you've made us feel welcome. We really appreciate it." He stopped, standing just a few feet from Ethan. His gravity seemed to pull Ethan toward his incomparable muscle body. He seemed to be staring down Ethan, yet his eyes were inviting and friendly.

Ethan didn't say anything.

Then, subtly, Michael moved just a bit closer. His giant pecs were less than a foot from Ethan's face. "If there's ever anything I can do to repay how you've befriended us, just let me know."

Ethan didn't know if it was deliberate or not, or even if it was his imagination or not, but he swore to himself that Michael had again rippled his pecs. Ethan swallowed hard. "Thanks. It's been my pleasure," he said softly.

Michael slowly bent his knees and sank all the way into the water. He rose, brushing his hands up his face and over his head. His gigantic biceps bobbed as he stood tall again; his beautiful muscles glistened as the water beaded up. He turned, and slowly walked toward his towel at the side of the pool, and his posing trunks. "You mind if I change into these now? I don't like to get a tan line from my long trunks."

"Not at all," Ethan squeaked.

Michael smiled and picked up the posers; his forearms rippled as his fingers opened the small amount of nylon fabric. Standing near the stairs, at the most shallow end of the pool, the water hit Michael right around the knees. The musclegod sat the posers down on the towel and turned toward Ethan. He looked down and followed his hands as they began to un-tie his swimming trunks, and again his fantastic, powerful forearms danced. He briefly looked up at Ethan, who was hopelessly staring, then back down. He pulled the trunks downward.

The cock and balls that emerged were indeed worthy of such a huge, muscular body. Michael's gigantic upper legs pushed his balls, and consequently, his cock, forward. The penis arched forward in a graceful down-pointing curve. God, it was thick. And long. Michael began to fiddle with his posing trunks, highly aware of what Ethan was going through.

"You know," Michael began, "I hope you don't mind me mentioning, but I don't think Porter was the only one who enjoyed himself this morning."

"Oh?" Ethan said nervously.

"Yeah," The musclegod continued playing with the posers, standing totally naked in the shallow water. "I was aware what happened, Ethan."

"I- I wouldn't know what you're talking about."

Michael smiled. "I think you do. Ethan, I'm gay. I have gaydar. I know."

Ethan cleared his throat.

"While the kid was feeling my muscles, you came in your shorts."

Ethan didn't say anything.

"Does Tia know about your infatuation with musclemen?"

"No," Ethan squeaked.

"Well, I guess it'll have to be our little secret, huh?"

"Yeah." Ethan's throat was dry.

"You know," Michael said, "since it's just us two here, in your back yard, there's really no reason for me to put these on, don't you think?"

Ethan shook his head.

"Thought you'd agree." Michael sat the posers down on the chair, faced Ethan, and then began the most sensual, erotic, posing routine the reader of this story could ever imagine. He lifted both arms outward, forming a huge "T," and then slowly bent his elbows, bringing his forearms up to vertical while he grew his biceps to unbelievable size. The muscles bulged into heads that separated from each other. Michael looked at one arm, then the other, admiring the work he had done to sculpt such an amazing body. Then he smiled as he looked at Ethan.

His arms were astounding. Biceps that were lean and rippling, formed astoundingly separate heads of peaking muscle as they rose to unheard-of mountains of powerful virility. He held the flex for what seemed like forever, allowing his worshipping neighbor to gawk, admire, lust and fantasize.

Eventually, he lowered his arms slowly. God, he knew how to pose. He smiled and tightened his whole body into a rippling, throbbing most-muscular pose. Deltoids, traps, triceps & biceps all hardened. Unimaginable size. Unbelievable definition. Abdominals like nothing Ethan had ever seen. And then those legs. God almighty those legs.

Michael rose his hands again, and placed them behind his head, smiling confidently. His abs shrink-wrapped. He placed one leg in front of the other just a bit, and rocked it back and forth. Then, BAM! He froze the quadriceps into iron-hard mounds of freaky-defined muscle heads. He grinned as he watched Ethan try to clear his throat.

His mammoth arms looked like they'd crush his head. He rotated his hips a bit and his now-thickening cock rolled to one side.

Michael transitioned into a side-chest pose. His over-developed pectorals sat on the shelf of his forearms as he held his wrists. Slowly, he then turned around and faced away from his adoring worshipper; he stood there, relaxed, for a moment, to let Ethan try to comprehend the breadth of his impossible lats- his broad shoulders- his inhuman triceps as they stuck out from his torso- his minute waistline- his hard, compact, erotic ass.

Oh god, those glutes! Tight, fluid-yet-hard, mounds of ass muscle flexed at Ethan. Michael positioned one leg back just a bit and flexed the hamstring, hardening it into a sculpture of steel-hard muscle.

Then Michael put his hands on his hips and rolled his shoulders forward, broadening his latissimus dorsi into a display of wings wider than anything Ethan had ever seen.

Just a breathtaking, powerful backside.

Ethan was afraid he'd start coming. Of course the fact that he was pushing on his crotch through his swimming trunks didn't help.

Michael slowly turned around, grinning. What came into view next was the giant's sex tool, now growing to new proportions of erect beauty. What happened next was beyond anything Ethan could have ever fantasized about: Michael continued posing, and while he did so, he began to fondle himself, bringing himself to full erection- all the while flexing his inhuman physique all over hell. Muscles rippled, hardened then relaxed, then bulged and hardened again. Michael's forearm flexed and moved with striations of muscle as he touched himself. Once he achieved an erection that a porn star would die for, he hit a double biceps pose again, while his cock meat waved at Ethan.

He went through all of the poses again, this time with that hard-on firmly planted in the vertical position.

When he was finished, he said, "Oh, I'm sorry. I don't know where my manners are. Would you like to feel?"

Ethan couldn't move. He could barely breathe.

"Come on, I won't bite," Michael taunted. "Promise," he grinned. "I think you'll enjoy feeling my muscles."

Ethan found himself taking a step. Then another. Then another.

When Ethan got close to the flexing musclegod, Michael stepped forward and said, "But first, let's make you more comfortable." With that, he pulled down Ethan's trunks. Ethan's formidable member sprang to full attention as Michael threw the awe-struck host's swimming trunks up on the pool's edge. "There. That's better, the muscled phenom smiled."

Michael bent forward and hit another most-muscular: He positioned his writhing, rolling pecs right in front of Ethan's face.

Ethan slowly moved his trembling hand onto one of the man-breasts, the muscles tightening and loosening under his fingers.

God.

Ethan lifted his other hand and began to move it, timidly, over Michael's huge mounds of shoulder, then arm muscles.

It only took a few more poses, and Ethan somehow found the freedom to enthusiastically join in- feeling everything that Michael so artfully presented to Ethan's adoring hands. And within a minute or so, as he felt out the muscles that would hold him captive for the rest of his life (there would never be anyone who could ever compare with Michael), Ethan began to shoot.

Hard.

Long, white ropes of semen exploded from his throbbing dick, spraying the god with his thick, creamy offering of worship.

Michael smiled, and continued to flex- as if this was the natural, logical reaction Ethan should have.

Ethan moaned loudly.

His knees weakening, Ethan leaned against Michael for support. The huge muscle man enveloped his worshipper in his gigantic arms. Ethan buried his face in Michael's cleavage, and the behemoth massaged Ethan's cheeks with his pectorals.

Ethan had never come so hard in his life.

As the two men embraced, Ethan verged on tears. His orgasm was life-altering. It was hard. His jizz shot out of his painfully-hard cock; some of it hit the underside of the overhang of Michael's pecs, some of it splashed onto those fantastic abdominals. He covered the torso of his god. He whimpered as he offered his essence onto the body of his new-found deity-neighbor.

When Ethan was finally finished and drained, Michael picked up his new worshipper as a groom lifts his bride over the threshold.

Effortlessly.

Moments later, Michael was carrying Ethan into the master bedroom. He gently placed Ethan on the king-size bed that the mere mortal shared with Tia, whispering, "I'm glad you were able to enjoy yourself down at the pool, my new neighbor." He softly kissed Ethan on the forehead, then on the lips.

Just before he began a long, sensuous, erotic frenching session, Michael said, "And now it's my turn to enjoy you..."

With that, the gorgeous muscle monster smiled broadly, then climbed on top of Ethan's splayed body. His lips met Ethan's, and then his tongue began to probe.

Ethan relaxed his jaw and allowed the musclegod to explore his mouth.

They kissed.

They both moaned.

Felt each other.

Rubbed.

Groaned.

Kissed more.

Frenched.

Passionately, yet tenderly.

Hugged.

The god rested his massiveness on top of Ethan, swallowing the mortal's muscular body, overpowering it, yet tenderly so.

Ethan was near delirium. Honestly, the next few hours would be a blur for him. He'd have a hard time recalling many of the details. It would forever be like a dream to him.

A dream come true.

The two continued to kiss as Michael draped his huge physique over Ethan's welcoming body. The Herculean muscleman kissed and frenched as he rubbed his cock against Ethan's torso.

In preparation.

The foreplay lasted for nearly an hour, as Michael brought himself to the verge of orgasm... then with inhuman control over his own body-functions, backed down.

Time and time again.

And again.

Finally, when Michael could hold back no longer, he lifted Ethan's legs by the ankles, splaying them up and wide, then draping them onto his broad shoulders. Ethan's sphincter was pink, and ripe for the picking.

Gently, Michael placed his wet, purple, oversized cock-head against Ethan's quivering hole. He held it there, allowing his charge to contemplate what was about to occur.

And Ethan contemplated.

The smaller man realized exactly what was about to happen. And he heartily welcomed it. He splayed his legs as far as he could, beckoning Michael to enter. He groaned in an erotic, welcoming timbre.

Michael recognized the sound very well. He'd heard it countless times before.

Yet irrespective of Ethan's welcoming imperturbability, the advent of Michael's penetration would soon be met with a painful realization: This was going to hurt.

Indeed, the muscle giant's muscles weren't the only thing on his body that was big.

And thick.

And long.

As Ethan's new neighbor gently, yet forcefully, began to press himself against the willing, if hesitant, anus, the worshipping whimperer moaned loudly.

God this was really going to hurt.

There was nothing about Michael that was subtle. He was all big. Totally massive. Everything about him was exaggerated. And his thick, long cock was no exception.

The wet, pre-cum dripping cock-head pushed hard against Ethan's sphincter. There was nothing Ethan could to to resist, even if he wanted to.

But he definitely didn't want to.

Slowly, as gently as possible for a muscle giant, Michael parted Ethan's opening, and allowed his third eye to peer inside his new neighbor's body.

It liked what it saw.

So much so that Michael pressed ever inward, spreading Ethan's ass to dimensions that the adoring neighbor would have never dreamed possible.

Indeed, Ethan had never received a man's cock before, so he actually had no idea what to expect- let alone dream as possible. Yet, truthfully, no man could ever actually expect to receive a cock of these proportions.

Ethan called out, slapping his arms against his bed in pain.

A seductive, ominous, powerful, sensual grin appeared on Michael's face as he forced his thick shaft inside, just a bit farther. He held Ethan's splayed arms down forcefully, grimacing as he widened the sphincter of his new-found worshipper.

And Ethan began to holler.

Within moments, Michael's thick, broad helmet forced its way inside Ethan's tunnel. As Ethan moaned- even yelled- Michael introduced his neighbor to his hard, poled mast with tender, if compelling, passion. The behemoth's cock began to fill...

And fill...

And totally fill Ethan's rectum.

And Ethan absolutely loved every millisecond of it.

As best he could, under the painful circumstances.

Michael was a few inches inside now.

Ethan could feel every vein that lined Michael's thick cock. It was amazing; even though painful. But the pain hurt so good.

Ethan was on the verge of blacking out. Not just because of the pain (which was nearly unbearable), but because of the monumental significance of the moment. Not in his wildest dreams could Ethan have ever imagined experiencing something like this. His fantasies were woefully inadequate compared to what he was now living.

Michael, a living god, was fucking him.

HIM!

Every rippling ridge of Michael's thick cock pressed against the lining of Ethan's rectum. And Ethan felt every single ripple, every bulging vein as it forced itself inside. The unreal bulging veins: the fantastic thickness, the many undulations of the god's massive shaft as it invaded Ethan's very being.

God.

God almighty.

Inch by inch, Michael pressed his cock farther inside. And he smiled directly into Ethan's grimacing face with every forward movement.

Ethan began to come again.

As the reality of being fucked by the man who surpassed every one of his fantasies began to impress itself to Ethan, his cock exploded in renewed appreciation for the muscleman who was now penetrating him. His cum flew out of his piss slit, spraying onto his abs, his chest, and the torso of his god.

Michael smiled.

And the god-man penetrated farther. His massively thick cock invaded Ethan's rectum even more.

Then, just as Ethan could push out no more sperm, Michael reached the limit of Ethan's rectum.

Slowly, the giant of muscle began to rock- back and forth.

Just millimeters.

And it only took a few moments... a few moments, before Michael began to fill Ethan with his semen. His jizz. His cum. His actual essence.

Michael called out with a guttural groan. This was going to be one of his most powerful orgasms ever.

The musclehunk's body tightened into rock-hard solidity. His ass muscles rolled with power. His mighty legs flexed to push himself hard into Ethan. He moaned again, loudly, with a resonant, erotic, almost out-of-control yell.

Ethan yelled as well. The pain was unbearable. Beyond the threshold.

Michael filled Ethan's ass. His jizz soon began to ooze out of Ethan's quivering sphincter.

The sheets were soiled.

Sweat was everywhere.

Michael's semen flowed into, and out of Ethan's ass.

And Ethan's semen oozed out of his cock, all over his abs and torso.

Long story short: There'd be quite a bit of cleaning up.

• • • • •

"Hey, hon, how'd your day go?" Tia asked.

Ethan spoke hesitantly into his cell phone as he laid on his bed, next to his hyper-muscular neighbor. "Pretty good. How 'bout you?"

"Oh, that Jonah is such a bastard. We actually had a pretty fantastic day, but he wasn't impressed. I don't know if he's just feeling the pressure from corporate, or what, but he just refuses to be satisfied."

"Oh, that's too bad," Ethan tried to comfort. "So, what about the rest of the week?"

"Well, I think we'll manage," Tia said. "It won't necessarily be fun, but we'll manage." She paused a second and then said, "So, tell me about your day..."

Ethan glanced at the muscle monster lying on his bed, just a second, then said into his cellphone, "Oh, nothing major happened. Mostly just relaxed around the pool..."

There was an uncomfortable pause on Tia's end, then she closed with, "Okay, then. Well, keep up the good work!"

Ethan cringed at his wife's sarcasm. But as he rested his head on Michael's massive chest, he relaxed. "You too, honey," he replied. "You too."

Ethan ended the call, then looked into Michael's eyes. "So, you think Steve has the boys in bed now?"

Michael smiled. "Yeah, I'm sure he does."

Ethan paused. "Um, I'm a little puzzled here. How is it that Steve is holding down the fort next door, while you're lying in bed with your neighbor?

Michael smiled again. "Let's just say we have a very open marriage."

THE END.

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www.seanreidscott.com