Gay Erotic Stories

Bob came home after a day with the eighth grade twerps, really tired. But it was November, and he knew that holiday parties were around the corner. As he rifled through the mail, he kept looking for one special invitation… Glory be! There it was: the big envelope from Max! Bob tore it open eagerly. “You are invited to Max’s annual Holiday Party. Saturday, December 5 at 6PM. RSVP 900-555-8988.” Then there was a handwritten note: “Bob, be sure to bring the video.” Bob always did bring the video. And every party was worth recording. Bob was Max’s buddy in college, and they had been pretty close. Max knew everything about him, but he never learned as much about the mysterious Max. He always knew that Max was brilliant, however, and Max had proved it by starting an electronics company and making a pile of money. Max was also generous, open-minded, and witty. A major mystery was Max’s single status. Even Bob didn’t know what Max’s preferences were, and each year went by with no relationship for Max. But Max was a great host, and his parties were unique. To begin with, there was the estate, complete with mansion, which had a ballroom with a stage. On that stage Bob had seen a variety of super entertainers: opera singers, folk singers, big bands, hula dancers, wrestlers (Bob’s favorite) both male and female, comedians – well, you can name almost any form of entertainment, and Max had presented it. He once featured male and female strippers - who went all the way - at the same time! Each year it was a total surprise, and while Max loved to show the beauty of the human body, he never stooped into lewdness or overt sex. Another wonderful thing about Max was the people he invited. Even though he mixed in high-end social circles, his 200 guests were a cross-section of humanity. He did invite a few of his big-name friends – those he could count on not being snobbish – but the group always included athletes, actors, artists, lawyers, doctors, teachers (like Bob), plumbers, carpenters, salespeople, house cleaners, and on and on. Reporters and politicians, however, were not welcomed. All major NYC ethnic groups were always represented, and some of his invitees were openly gay. Max’s party was a safe environment where everyone could be himself or herself and not feel embarrassed. So there would soon be another party at Max’s. And Bob couldn’t wait. December 4 arrived, and Bob was ecstatic – only one more day! Then came a phone call from Max. “Bob, I hate to tell you this, but my heating system crashed. The repairmen tell me that they have to wait till Monday for the parts. We’re all going to be freezing tomorrow – still want to come?” Silly question. “Sure, Max, I won’t ever miss one of your parties unless I’m on my deathbed. But I figure you don’t need me as videographer.” “Hey, Bob, I didn’t say that the entertainment was canceled. Bring the video!” Now all this was weird, thought Bob. First of all, how in the world would the brilliant Max let his hi-tech, environmentally-friendly heating system drop out before a party? “He’s a maintenance freak, he always checks out everything before the big event,” thought Bob. “And who the hell will entertain in a freezing room? Max almost always shows flesh on that stage. Well, Max is always mysterious. No doubt there will be one of his famous surprises.” On December 5, Bob walked into Max’s elegant mansion along with a lot of other well-wrapped people. Here and there was someone he recognized from previous years, and they exchanged warm greetings. He quickly tired of the chief topic of conversation, however: the temperature. Then Max himself stepped on stage and made an announcement. “Friends, I must apologize again for the heating problem. I’ve never been so embarrassed. But there are plenty of hot beverages available, and alcohol, I’m told, helps some people warm up. So please go to it, and keep those conversations going. We want lots of hot air circulating in this room!” There was an appreciative chuckle from the crowd. What to do but find humor in the situation? Bob decided to step on stage and get a video view of the guests as they shivered. It was then that he spotted Jonathan. One look at Jonathan, even under his heavy leather jacket, and Bob knew that he had made huge muscle gains since he had last seen him about three years ago at the gym. At that time Jonathan, who was highly intelligent and independently wealthy, had made a pledge to devote himself to the science of bodybuilding in its most advanced form. Bob raced over to him eagerly. “Jonathan, am I glad to see you! How are you?” “Now Bob, that’s a stupid question.” “What do you mean? It seems an ordinary question to me.” “Bob, am I an ordinary person?” “Well, no, Jonathan, you may be the least ordinary person I know.” “Exactly right. And what did I tell you when I saw you last?” “That you would not appear in public until you achieved your goals.” “Good. You didn’t forget after all,” he said in his inimitable tone. “Bob, is this a public place?” “OK, I get it. By being here, you’re telling me that you’ve achieved something spectacular, and you’re ready to show the world.” “You’re getting smarter, Bob,” he said with just a hint of jocularity. “I’m ready. I’ve even shaved my body to look my best.” “Are you going to show us tonight?” Bob was breathless. “Why Bob, I’m not crazy. It must be 30 degrees in here. I might freeze my genitals.” Only Jonathan would express himself that way. Bob really did love this guy. But he was frustrated by Jonathan’s thoroughly hidden physique… Bob looked into his friend’s blue eyes and admired the fine skin, square jaw, and flowing blond hair. He remembered how Jonathan’s muscles had been superbly cut, rather like a gymnast’s, but not big enough to enter bodybuilding competitions. He estimated that he had weighed about 185 pounds at a height of around six feet two inches. He thought about how much pleasure he used to get out of watching Jonathan’s workouts, seeing those highly-defined biceps contracting into round balls and opening into a deep split. He envisioned the paper-thin skin that exposed every muscle and that let a road map of veins show through. He remembered the striated quads and diamond calves. On one occasion he had persuaded Jonathan to flex for him, and Bob had quickly reached over and grabbed that baseball bicep. It was so impressively hard, Bob remembered. “Could Jonathan really have kept his extreme definition while adding all this weight?” Bob wondered to himself. “He looks like about 220-230 pounds now.” He stared at the arm under the classy leather coat, trying to get a clue as to how big it really might be. He thought he’d just catch a squeeze of those beckoning biceps, but his hand was intercepted by an iron grip. “I don’t give previews. You’ll get the whole show at an appropriate time and place. Just be patient, please.” “What can you tell me about your achievement, Jonathan? What do you weigh now?” “I’m not saying.” “Do you still have those great cuts?” “You’ll have to wait and see for yourself.” “Well, what will you talk about?” Bob asked. “I’ll just say that my three years of intense study and weight training and experimentation with nutrition have taught me how to sculpture the most completely developed and best proportioned physique in the world and have allowed me to acquire muscles that are so dense and powerful that I can defeat any man within 20 pounds of my weight in any contest of strength.” Jonathan gave Bob one of his rare smiles. Bob gasped. All Jonathan needed was a wide open question! He felt his cock stiffening. His favorite scene in the entire world was that of two musclemen pitted against each other in a competition of strength. "Wow, I love it, Jonathan! Are you really that good? I want to find you a match!” “That will be very difficult, Bob. You know very well that big men don’t want to be embarrassed by competitors who are smaller than they are, and the only way I’ll be able to prove myself is by taking on someone significantly bigger than I am.” “What strength competition do you like best?” “Well, I’ve never experienced anything with a real competitor, but I’ve been training for arm wrestling, the test of strength, bear hug and tug of war. I would prefer muscle-to-muscle competition to simple comparative weightlifting, but I can handle anything.” How fantastic! “I can handle anything!” Bob loved those words and Jonathan’s extreme confidence. “There must be somebody who would answer the challenge. Damn the temperature,” thought Bob, “maybe there’s another muscleman here tonight!” Bob figured he had monopolized Jonathan long enough and had probably learned all he could at this time. He said goodbye and decided to get another overall video view from the stage. As he panned around the room in telephoto, he saw a tall black man with a brilliant smile chatting with several men and women. He was clearly in control, and it was easy to see why. This man was BIG! He had wide shoulders and a chest that pushed against his suede jacket. “Ohmygod, I’ve got to talk to this guy. He looks pretty fantastic,” Bob thought admiringly. As Bob approached the group, he realized that all he had to do was listen for a while, with video running, of course. The star of the show was talking about some of his exploits. And up close his huge upper body was intimidating, though his sparkling black eyes and infectious smile made him very approachable. “Yeah, that’s right, Jim. Harry is very strong, but he’s no match for me. I took him easily in arm wrestling and the test of strength the other day at the gym, and you know he weighs a little more than I do. In fact, I’ve got a problem at the gym – nobody wants to compete with me any more! The only guy who’s beaten me is a monster who is 6 feet 5, and weighs 285 pounds of solid muscle. Now, he’s really scary!” The big man grinned broadly. “I can see how some guys might be scared of you, Jamal,” said Jim. “What are your stats these days? I know you’re about 6’ 3” tall.” “I now weigh about 255 with 4% body fat, and my arms are 21 inches, chest 52 inches, waist 32 inches, quads 28 inches and calves 19 inches. I’d like to show you how I look right now, but I think I’d freeze my buns in my posing briefs!” He laughed heartily, and the ladies grinned sheepishly as they gazed at his huge frame. “I’d really like to see you pose, Jamal,” said one girl. “But since that’s not possible now, can I at least feel that big arm under your jacket?” “Sure, be my guest!” And he flexed in front of her. She reached out tentatively, then squeezed. “Oooh! That’s incredibly big and hard!” “Anyone else want a feel?” said Jamal with his flashing smile. Everyone took a turn and made complimentary remarks. Then Bob had the courage to jump in. “Hi, Jamal, I’m Bob, and I’m a bodybuilder, too, though I’m not in your league. I can just imagine what’s lurking in there, and I’d love to have a turn!” “Sure, Bob, I know you know what it takes to get a 21-inch arm. Get a feel of this!” Jamal flexed proudly under Bob’s nose. Bob squeezed the suede jacket, which had to be very loose to cover that bicep. The rock hard muscle he felt underneath gave him a huge thrill, and his cock stiffened again. “Man, that is great! And it sounds as if your strength is the stuff of legend!” “Well, I don’t know about legends, but I’ve never been beaten by anyone near my size. And I thrive on muscle-to-muscle strength competition. I look for any serious competitor I can find.” Bob’s excitement soared. “I may have just the man for you. He’s right here at this party!” “Yeah? Tell me about him. How tall is he and what does he weigh?” Jamal was clearly excited, too. “Well, I think he’s about 6 feet two and maybe 230 pounds. He’s been…” Jamal interrupted “Hey, Bob, don’t make a fool of me. I don’t waste my time with guys who are smaller than I am. Get me some real competition, or nothing!” “But Jamal, this guy is different. He claims to…” “I don’t give a damn what he claims. What’s he done?” “Well, I guess he’s never had strength competition with anyone, but he’s really hot to prove his strength now,” Bob replied, knowing it sounded lame. “Ha ha! So he’s smaller than I am, has no track record, and wants to start at the top! Let him start with someone littler than he is! ‘Nuff said on this matter.” Jamal turned away from Bob and resumed his chat with friends. Bob felt dejected. Jonathan was right: getting a competitor would be tough. He made a beeline back to Jonathan, who was talking to three men about his body development. Again Bob rolled the video. “I have disciplined myself to eat exactly the foods and exactly the quantities that my research has shown produce the most muscle and power to the body,” he was saying. “I feel I have reached optimum development and strength.” “Ever take drugs?” one man asked. “My objective was to stay completely drug free, and I have achieved this goal, too.” “From what I can see under that thick wrap, you don’t look particularly big. If you consider yourself at optimum development, why aren’t you bigger?” “Now that’s a very good question. I did weigh about 260 pounds for a while during my development phase, but I didn’t like the way I looked. A little freaky, you might say. Then, thanks to some Russian books I read, I discovered how to improve the density of my muscles, achieving the same power with less bulk, returning to proportions that were completely aesthetic. I regret that I can’t show you the finished product now, but there will be other opportunities, I’m sure.” Bob was motioning to Jonathan to cut off the conversation so that they could talk privately. Finally Jonathan said, “Thank you, gentlemen, for your attention and your interesting questions. If you’ll excuse me, I think my friend Bob has something important to tell me.” He shook hands with the three men, looking intently at each and gripping firmly. Bob thought they were all intrigued with Jonathan, and he guessed that each of them was as anxious to pull the wraps off Jonathan as he was. “Now, Bob, what’s so important?” “I’ve seen your ideal competitor.” “Here? Tonight? Tell me about him. And why do you consider him my ideal competitor?” “Because he has a huge ego, lots of muscle, and lots of experience in strength competition. He beats guys who are bigger than he is, and he’s already big.” Bob repeated Jamal’s stats. “Sounds pretty impressive, but does he want to meet me?” “No. Jonathan, you were right. When I described you, he blew me off, said you should start your competitions with someone littler than you, not at the top, against someone like him.” “I knew it. But dammit, Bob, this might be a great opportunity. I have to think of a strategy to get him to accept my challenge. Tell me more about him.” Bob described Jamal in all the detail that he could, repeating some of his boasts. “Ah, an African-American! That interests me even more. Bob, I think I have a plan. But I warn you, and this may shock you, I may have to tell a lie in order to get Jamal angry enough to want to compete with me.” Bob was shocked. He didn’t think Jonathan was capable of lying. What did he have in mind? “To start things off, do you think Max might have a spare steel bar that he wouldn’t mind seeing bent? I’ve been practicing with half-inch bars.” “Jonathan! You’re going to show your strength! Now I’m excited. I’m sure Max has everything.” Bob raced off and returned just a few minutes later with a bar. “All right, now take me to Jamal.” Bob was beside himself. He wondered if he could hold the camcorder steady for the encounter, even with the help of his optical stabilizer. They found Jamal surrounded, as usual, but this time the conversation was focused on race relations. Bob was relieved to see that Jamal’s confidence extended to interacting with others on this sensitive topic without losing his cool. Jonathan, uncharacteristically, broke into the group and into the conversation with a loud voice: “MY NAME IS JONATHAN, AND I WANT TO MATCH MY MUSCLES AND STRENGTH AGAINST YOURS, MR. MUSCLEMAN JAMAL, BUT YOU REFUSE TO CONSIDER MY CHALLENGE.” Jamal was taken aback. He wasn’t used to being challenged so forcefully. But he was arrogant and firm in his response. “So you’re the little man Bob was telling me about? Well, Jon, I don’t think you are a worthwhile competitor. Why don’t you just bug off and find some dude your own size or smaller to pick on?” And he drew himself up next to Jonathan to emphasize his larger frame. “Look at the difference, even with all these jackets. Folks, can you imagine him competing with me?” The crowd was growing around these two, and heads began to shake as they made the comparison. Jonathan shot back. “I want you to understand my name is Jonathan, and you won’t forget that name after I prove I’m stronger than you are.” With that he held the bar before the group and bent it with a steady, relentless power. Steady was not the word for Bob as he videoed the feat of strength. Surely this would provoke Jamal into the contest! “Well now, Jon, that wasn’t bad at all for a beginner. But I guess I better fix that bent bar.” He took it from Jonathan and confidently, almost effortlessly, with a big smile, straightened it. People in the know, including Bob and Jonathan, knew that this feat required more strength than the first. “So, like I said, Jon, run along and find another guy to prove your strength, little man to little man.” Jonathan kept his cool, but it was clear to Bob that he was angry. “All right, Jam, I can see you’re probably afraid of losing to a smaller man. And I can understand that in view of what my research has shown about the relative strength of different racial groups.” “What the hell are you talking about, man? I’ve beaten plenty of white guys in my day.” “Possibly. But the research of J. Lipkis indicates that, pound for pound, African-Americans are not capable of developing as much strength as Caucasians. Since I now have as much of my superior Caucasian strength as is possible for my weight, I am confident of defeating you. And your refusal to consider me a worthwhile competitor tells me that the Lipkis results are indeed correct. If you were really sure of your power, you would just blow me away and be done with me.” “Well, now, Jon, isn’t that just a lot of racial garbage! I can’t let that stand! OK, I’ll compete with you anytime, anywhere, and you’ll fall under the power of these beautiful black muscles!” With that Jamal flexed his arm in front of Jonathan. Suddenly the lights went out. And it was really dark, with only the emergency exit signs visible on the perimeter of the auditorium. Bob noticed one tiny flashlight moving near his space. He tried to follow it, but lost it after a few steps. The crowd was restive and grumbling. “What’s going on? First the heat, now the lights? This was supposed to be a fun party!” “What’s with Max this year? It’s not like him to lose control.” Then Max’s voice came over the PA system. “Apologies again, dear guests. I’m responsible for both the darkness and the cold. In a few seconds you will see again, and in a very few minutes you’ll be warm again, and in a moment I’ll give you an explanation.” The lights came on, and Max’s staff emerged from all corners with coat check tags to handle the wraps. Bob immediately noted that both Jonathan and Jamal were missing, and he began to piece together the puzzle. Max started his unraveling. “I wanted to give you entertainment tonight that was truly unique, and I think my plan has succeeded. But I regret that I needed to make all of you uncomfortable in order to have it happen according to my concept. “In a few moments I will introduce you to tonight’s stars, Jamal and Jonathan. I’ve sent them into their dressing rooms to put on something more revealing, now that the temperature is rising. I think you’ll conclude that watching them in action will be worth all the discomfort you’ve experienced.” Max continued: “These two bodybuilders, both in their mid-twenties, both with superb physiques, have never met before tonight. I wanted their first encounter to be fully clothed so that the unveiling on stage could be suspenseful for both of them and a delight to all of you. Because I knew their reputations, I counted on Jonathan to issue a challenge, and I hoped that Jamal would respond. With some good legwork by my fine old friend Video Bob, this has indeed happened. And the extraordinary contest of muscles and strength will occur right here!” While the competitors were still changing, Max described his four HDTV cameras and giant screens facing the audience, each camera shooting from a different angle. He also pointed to the overhead lighting that would highlight the muscles when the men were posing. “Now I should explain the fifth screen above the stage,” continued Max. “I’m going to connect this tiny transmitter to the output of Video Bob’s digital camcorder, and you will be able to watch his video on that fifth screen. I’ll be counting on him to follow the action and get some exciting close-ups.” Bob was flattered and thrilled. While he was an experienced videographer, he had never had a live audience watch his work. And this occasion – well, who would have dreamed? Suddenly the stars appeared, Jamal from the left and Jonathan from the right. Everyone applauded as they gazed at the two competitors in the spectacular capes Max had provided. Jamal, smiling and waving, was a vision in a glorious dark gold. There was just a hint of muscular chocolate flesh showing in the center, and the cape could not completely hide his enormous pecs, delts and biceps. Jonathan had chosen a glamorous blue for his outfit, outstanding with his fair skin and blond hair. While he didn’t fill the cape as completely as did his rival, there were sharp cuts peeking through the center and large bulges around his arms and shoulders. He walked with pride and began to smile, but he couldn’t play to the crowd like Jamal. Max orchestrated a handshake. Bob saw that they gripped firmly and glared at each other intently. “Now let me describe how this contest is going to proceed,” Max continued. “In the first stage, they will display their physiques to full advantage in direct competition, and you, the audience, will choose which one has the better development.” A big cheer arose from the crowd. Jamal continued to play to the audience with posing, pointing to himself, shaking his head at Jonathan, who did not respond. “In the second stage, they will engage in several muscle-to-muscle contests of strength. Then we’ll be able to see if the man who looks better is actually stronger!” Another cheer and even more posing from Jamal, who seemed to be clearly in his element. “Now, gentlemen, do you have anything to say to each other before you start the show for this eager audience?” “Yes, I have a profound need to speak,” said Jonathan. “Jamal, I apologize for engaging in chicanery in order to get you to accept my challenge. I made an assertion, which you described as ‘racial garbage,’ and it was exactly that, a bald-faced lie. But now we’re both ready to confront each other, and the bottom line is that your muscles are inferior to mine. It just has nothing to do with race.” “Hold it, boy, I don’t take kindly to that word ‘inferior’ even if race is out of the picture! No way am I inferior to you, white man, as you’ll soon find out to your sorrow!” “All right, Jam, just let me say then that my muscles are superior, being better shaped, better proportioned, better defined, harder, with more power per cubic inch than yours.” “That sounds like more garbage, only let me call it SHIT this time.” Jamal gave Jonathan a shove. “What I’d really like to do is punch you out, but I’ll follow the rules. All you’ll need to do is look at these flexed arms to know you’re in for a beating. It’ll be such a pleasure to feel you crumble as I unleash my muscle power on you, you worm!” Jonathan, who had not lost his footing when pushed, grabbed his opponent’s wrists firmly and pulled them aside. “And you’re in for the surprise of your life if you think I’m going to crumble. Just wait till you feel the power in these arms.” He closed the space between the men and flexed his right arm in front of Jamal. “I’m sick of your arrogance, kid. Remember, SIZE MATTERS!” And he stood next to Jonathan, puffing himself up to push his chest into his challenger. “He looks significantly bigger,” thought Bob. “I sure hope Jonathan knows what he’s doing.” The two men glared at each other intensely for several seconds. Max gave them a prod. “OK, hot competitors, you’ve got us primed for the contest. Let’s start the action now. By flipping a coin, I determined that Jamal will take the stage first. He will offer a posing routine, followed by Jonathan. Then I have a surprise for you, my patient guests!” Jamal grinned broadly. “Folks, I suspect that only a few of you have seen anything like these muscles before. I know some of you women will find me hot, some of you will think I’m real cool. Most of you men will envy my development, and some of you men – well, Max, please excuse the expression – but I’m going to make some of you men really horny!” There was a howl from the crowd. Bob’s own face was turning red, so he didn’t dare swing the video around to look at reactions from other men. Jamal undid the cord holding the cape and grandly swung it aside, showing off his ripped musculature, the smooth rich bronze skin contrasting gloriously with the gold posing briefs. Gasps, cheers and applause greeted the unveiling. He immediately launched into a double-bicep pose, with his flashing eyes and infectious grin turning first to the left, then to the right. Bob zoomed in with close-ups of his raised arms, then even closer on just one arm at a time. Jamal started moving confidently from one standard pose to another – back double bi, side chest pose, lat spread, right bicep while down on the left knee, flexing quads and calves, crunching abs, finally a most muscular pose. The crowd adored him and went a little crazy. “He is magnificent,” thought Bob, as he acknowledged the horny feelings coming on. “Those biceps are huge, with incredible peaks; his delts and pecs are unbelievable; the taper from his chest to his waist is unreal; his six-pack abs are impressive, and his legs, especially his quads, are really fine. The only critique I can make is that he’s a little top-heavy.” Bob had plugged in his portable mike to the camcorder and now used it to pick up comments from the crowd. “That is the most fantastic body I’ve ever seen! Look at the size and shape of those arms!” “Would you believe that chest? I love the fullness of it! Wish I could put my little hands on it! I’d classify him as one hot number!” “Cool, my friend; Oh-So-Cool is the name for this guy!” “Don’t you like the way he shows off? He’s so damn confident. Can’t imagine that Jonathan has a chance against the musclegod Jamal.” “I envy him his muscles, but I don’t envy him the work he’s put into developing that body.” As Jamal finished his posing and bowed to the crowd, he was greeted with deafening applause. Now everyone turned to Jonathan, who had shown no reactions to Jamal’s presentation. Jonathan rose slowly, face solemn, took center stage, and very gradually undid his robe, pulling it off as if he were unveiling a treasured possession. He stood motionless for a moment, the shiny blue briefs complementing his elegantly smooth, pale skin. He then began posing in a manner such as Bob had never seen before. Jonathan moved as if he were in slow motion, fluidly gliding from standing to kneeling, from double biceps flexing to reaching skyward; from front pose to side pose to back pose, even stretching out on the floor, supporting himself with his left arm, turning his chest toward the audience, and raising his right arm flexed above his head. He eventually wound up in the traditional most muscular pose, but he did not hold it and wave; he kept the fluid motion going from flexation to relaxation, then regally strode to the side of the stage near Jamal. The audience’s first reaction was stunned silence. Then came a gradual crescendo to wild applause. Bob couldn’t decide whether he was more amazed by Jonathan’s posing routine or by his development. He had used the video to get some dramatic close-ups, as with Jamal, and had a good concept of the qualities of both physiques. “Well, he really did it! He still has the paper-thin skin, the incredible definition, the road map of veins. And he said to look for proportion, shape, and hardness; I can see that the aesthetic balance is perfect between his upper body and his truly incredible legs, with calves to die for. And then to watch him pose – I’ve never seen anything so dramatic, so artistic! Jonathan,” he thought, “I love you, good buddy!” He compared him in his mind to Jamal. “No question, Jamal’s size is impressive. His upper body is just overwhelming. But Jonathan does have better proportions and more outstanding definition – the abs are like canyons! And the legs are perfection. Oh, man, do I wish I could feel the muscles on both of them to see who really is harder!” He felt his cock growing again as he fantasized about putting his hands on those magnificent biceps, pecs, abs. Bob reviewed some of the comments he had picked up from the crowd. “Dig that smooooth motion! Never saw anything like it!” “I can’t believe the way his muscles pop out of his skin. There’s not a trace of fat. It’s almost as if he had no skin at all!” “He’s not hot, he’s not cool, he’s just plain gorgeous!” “He does have super proportions, but I love the massiveness of Jamal.” “I can’t wait to see them next to each other. What a fantastic muscle show!” When Jonathan approached Jamal after his routine, Jamal stood up, tall and proud. Jonathan walked up to him, defiantly, until their chests were touching and their faces were almost in contact. Jamal flexed his pecs alternately so that they danced across Jonathan’s chest, and Jonathan responded with a similar movement. Then they stood motionless, chests still in contact. Bob imagined himself in Jonathan’s shoes, hard nipples pressing against Jamal’s bulging pecs. This scene was getting to be soooo hot! The crowd was silent, waiting for the next step Jonathan pulled away and broke the silence. “Well, Mr. Muscleman Jamal, do you consider that I’m a worthy competitor now that you’ve seen my superior muscles?” “There you go again with your ‘superior’ shit, dude. I’ll say that you look pretty good and move pretty well, but compared to me, you’re on the puny side.” “Puny, am I? You’ll eat those words! And you may be big, but your upper body is oversized in relation to your legs. Compared to your arms, your calves look sort of spindly. Take another look at these!” And Jonathan flexed his calves for Jamal and for the audience. “Hmmm, ‘puny’ and ‘spindly’ aren’t the words that come to my mind when I look at these guys,” mused Bob, “but I do like their verbal sparring!” Jamal retorted: “My upper body is big so that I can overwhelm tiresome guys like you! Now just take one more look at these guns!” Jamal launched into a double bi, then swung his right arm in front of Jonathan’s nose. Jonathan responded with his own double bi. “Jamal, you’ve already forgotten that these arms have more power than you obviously can imagine!” Then he leaned forward and touched his forehead to Jamal’s in an act of defiance. Max took charge again. “OK, my friends, let’s get on with the show.” There was a roar of approval and loud applause. Shouts such as “Jamal, you’re the best!” and “Jonathan, you’re amazing!” accompanied the clapping. Max continued. “Now comes the surprise. Jamal and Jonathan are going to circulate together among you to offer a closer look. And I’m sure one or two of you will want to feel those muscles yourselves to see how hard they really are!” This time the crowd howled and shrieked as never before. Some women were dancing wildly. “One or two!? Of course, Max is joking again. This will take time, but will it ever be fun to video! And, when it’s my turn, ohmygod!” Bob was glad he had taken the precaution to put a pad inside his shorts. Bob had the extreme pleasure of accompanying the two musclegods through the crowd, watching men and women squeeze the biceps, paw and pound the pecs, stroke and poke the abs. He used the camcorder to get explosive close-ups, which looked really spectacular on the big screen. He was intrigued by the comments he heard: “I just love to put my little hand on your big arm! Jamal, honey, will you come home with me?” “I’ve never been in the presence of so much hot MUSCLE, and I confess that I really dig it!” “Can you imagine what it’ll be like when these two start matching their power? I can’t wait!” “I think Jamal’s size will carry the day. I agree with the motto – Size Matters!” “I felt Jamal’s arms, and they are huge and hard. But Jonathan’s are like marble! Jonathan’s right, there is a difference, and my money’s on him.” “I admire these guys for putting their muscles on the line. Seems to me most musclemen are scared of strength competition.” “Do you think they’ll armwrestle? I’ve always wanted to see two really muscular guys locking arms. I think it would be a close match!” “I’ve been to bodybuilding shows, and I thought they were boring. Man, this is exciting! Imagine getting this close to the competitors and actually feeling the muscles! And to watch two super-muscular guys, in briefs, battle it out in tests of strength – now that’s a real sporting event!” Finally, Bob thought he had enough footage of other people’s reactions, and he took his own turn. He approached Jonathan first. As he got close, he couldn’t resist commenting, “Jonathan, old buddy, you are absolutely awesome! I’m pulling for you!” “Thanks, Bob. I think the crowd is with Jamal, though, don’t you?” “I don’t know. You’ve got some strong supporters out there!” Then Bob reached out and began to feel Jonathan’s body. He started with the pecs, which were in raised relief, as if they were chiseled from marble. He imagined the thrill of worshiping those pecs, licking, biting the hard nipples. He reached down the rippled torso and into the rock-hard canyons of Jonathan’s stomach, where he gave a gentle punch with his fist. He slid his hands up around the lats, so beautifully shaped, and over the shoulders, while Jonathan raised his arms in a double bi. Then he worked his way over the shoulders and onto the twin peaks, which were unreal in the split of the biceps and the roundness of the balls. He could feel the veins, which crawled so precisely over each arm. Bob squeezed hard with both hands. There was not a trace of softness in that muscle! He had never felt anything like it. By this time Bob was hard as granite himself, with pre-cum oozing out. But he wanted to exploit the opportunity one step further. “Jonathan, would you do me a favor? Would you do reps of a right bicep curl so that I can feel that ball crawling up and down your arm?” Jonathan smiled. “That’s my favorite movement. I’m glad you asked, Bob.” Bob was lifted to new heights as he experienced the expansion and contraction of that magnificent muscle in his hand. The movement of the bicep, stretching into its split, then springing into a rock-hard lump, which did not compress under his grip, was deeply erotic to Bob. He pulled his hand away to avoid cumming in his pants, but he would relive that moment again, and again, and again. He stood back for a last look at that perfect physique, appreciating every inch of bulging, marble-hard muscle. Then he looked at the competition and was once again in awe. Jamal greeted him with a smile. “Well, Video Bob, you finally get your turn. And, looking at that rod in your pants, I’d say my competitor has put you in a good mood!” Bob turned purple, but he couldn’t help smiling. “How could you not like this guy?” he wondered to himself. Now he focused on the body, giving the same run-through that he gave Jonathan. Jamal’s pecs were huge, and he had a veritable canyon between them. Bob was impressed with their roundness and hardness; they were more dramatic than Jonathan’s, but they didn’t match Jonathan’s marble-like quality. Bob thought them equally worthy of worship as he fantasized his tongue licking over the mound of muscle and sucking on the large, inviting nipple. Jamal’s rippled abs resisted Bob’s punch, but once again he could detect a difference in hardness. Jamal’s V shape was truly unreal; Bob got a huge thrill out of feeling those spreading lats, and the delts were like half cantaloupes, extra large. Handling the biceps on those massive arms, Bob decided that the ball was no larger than Jonathan’s; the difference lay mainly in the triceps, which made deep and beautiful curves. Bob squeezed hard and found just a tiny bit of softness in the arm. “Maybe Jonathan really has made an important discovery in building marble-hard muscle,” thought Bob. Bob made the same special request for bicep curls of Jamal, who willingly complied. This traveling ball was also erotic, and Bob imagined that it had the power to provide an exciting match for Jonathan. He couldn’t help dreaming of a private evening with the two of them, where he could video their competition and partake in subsequent interactions… But now it was back to reality, and he restarted the camcorder as Max made another announcement. “Friends, have you ever experienced anything like that before?” There was a chorus of “No’s.” “Did you like it?” There was a huge cheer. “Now it’s up to you to choose the champion physique. OK, fellas, come up here and stand next to me, facing the crowd. Let them have a last look at you side by side, and let me have my turn at running my hands over those fabulous muscles.” Max began with Jamal, and it was clear that he was relishing the experience. By the time he got to Jonathan, Bob figured Max had revealed his preferences: A bulge in the pants confirmed his judgment. “It’s time for the vote, friends. I have a decibel meter that will determine the winner from the level of the applause. Please, no shouts or whistles – they will only delay the process. I’ll proceed alphabetically. “All those in favor of Jamal, applaud now.” The room rocked with clapping. “And now those for Jonathan.” The room rocked again, and Bob wasn’t sure who won. Max checked the meter. “Wow, that was close, but it’s clear that you’ve chosen Jamal as the winner of this first competition!” Now the cheers and whistles were wild as Jamal reveled in his triumph. Jamal raised his hands and waved. “Thanks, everybody, for giving credit to my great development. This is just the first of my victories!” He flexed his right arm in front of Jonathan. “Now, at last, you’re going to bend under my power, puny one!” Jonathan surprised everyone by grabbing Jamal’s arm and squeezing. “Hmmm, it gives a little, just as I thought. Now feel this, and contemplate the power inside!” Jamal reached out and crunched that arm. Bob could see the surprise on Jamal’s face when he felt the resistance. But his reply was cool: “Not bad, I say. But now let’s measure. Remember, SIZE MATTERS!” Another howl from the crowd. Max produced a tape measure and wrapped it around Jamal’s arm. “I know he claims 21 inches – let’s find out the truth!” Max read the number. “20 and three quarters. With a little pumping, I’m sure he could hit 21.” “Easy,” said Jamal. And he fanned the crowd into a massive cheer. “Jonathan has not given us any stats. Now the tape measure will speak…19 and a half inches.” “I knew I could not match Jamal’s size,” said Jonathan. “But now I want to display the extraordinary power inside. Jamal, let’s arm wrestle!” “Man, am I hot for this!” replied Jamal. “Guess you guys read my mind. That’s what I was planning for the first strength competition,” said Max, as he motioned to his staff to bring out the table and chairs. Jamal and Jonathan faced each other and cocked their arms. Jamal jumped his bicep several times to emphasize his confidence, and once again Jonathan grabbed it, his face in deep concentration. He quickly moved his left hand to his own right bicep, and jumped it in his own hand. Jamal looked puzzled, but he reached out and imitated the process, showing pleasure as he felt the movements in both arms. “Are the cameras ready?” asked Max, looking up at the big screens. He was satisfied that both sides of the locked arms would be projected, and he saw that Bob was poised to move around the competitors to get close-ups from different angles. “Are the competitors ready?” Jamal and Jonathan grasped hands and stared intently at each other. “You’ll start on my count of three. One…two…three!” Both biceps sprang into action. Bob zeroed in on the battling arms, sensing the power that was being released in the man-to-man combat. He saw Jonathan’s veins popping, his split ball straining; he saw Jamal’s massive arm from the back, the high peak looking oh-so awesome. While the arms remained locked at 90 degrees, Bob circled around to get the view from Jamal’s side. He saw strain on his face, and sweat began to pour in heavy drips. Jonathan still looked cool, but his arm was also wet with perspiration. Both biceps seemed to grow as Bob zoomed in with the camcorder. The tension was overwhelming! “They must have stayed locked like that for about a minute. Do I ever wish I could put my hands on those two amazingly muscular arms right now! I can just feel that muscle power rising up under my fingers.” Then Jamal began to push his opponent’s arm back slowly: 5 degrees, 10 degrees, 15 degrees. The strain on his face was intense, but he started to smile. Bob moved to Jonathan’s side again. Suddenly Jonathan spoke out firmly: “Now, according to James Spencer’s article on arm wrestling strategies, you should be getting tired, Mr. Muscleman Jamal. So it’s finally my turn to unleash, to use your word, my full power on you.” Jonathan’s face tightened with strain as he increased the pressure. His bulging arm, with new veins popping out, looked more formidable than ever. Jamal was clearly shocked as he felt his arm move backward, first slowly and then steadily down. In just a few seconds his wrist hit the table. This time Bob really did cream his pants. He hoped that everyone was looking at the competitors, not at him, but he couldn’t help feeling conspicuous as he convulsed a little. “Stabilizer, do your best!” he pleaded to the camcorder as he tried to hold it steady. Many in the crowd were dismayed when they saw their hero defeated, but a huge cheer arose. Jonathan got up and acknowledged the response, his vindication complete. He smiled and waved as he had never done before. Jamal was incredulous. He put his left hand on his bicep and sat sullenly at the table. Max stepped in. “Wow, what a match! Thanks, supermen, for that fabulous display of muscle power. Now let’s move to the second competition, the Test of Strength!” Jamal rose from his seat, clearly angry but eager for the next event. He approached Jonathan and raised his arms high. Jonathan responded, and they locked hands. “Move your arms down a little, and touch chest to chest, pro wrestler style,” said Max. “I’ll give you another count of three.” The two musclegods complied, and their pecs were in contact, nipples pressing against each other. They planted their legs firmly. It was a glorious sight! “Jamal’s extra height and huge deltoids seem to give him an edge, but Jonathan surprised us before. This should be good!” On Max’s count, the muscles tensed and the battle was on. Bob was thrilled with Jonathan’s rippling back, his tight and round glutes, and his diamond calves. He caressed the musculature with the camcorder, then did the same for Jamal. “Oh, those delts! The lats! And that back, too! And the super glutes! Jamal, you’re fantastic!” Once again, the two musclemen remained locked for some time, perspiration dripping down. Then Jamal seemed to attain a slight advantage, pushing Jonathan back just a little. His enormous upper body forced his lighter opponent to yield very slowly, and finally Jonathan lost his footing and fell back. Jamal gave a shout, smiled broadly, and held his hands up in victory. The cheers were overwhelming. “Another great battle,” Max announced. “You guys are really giving us a super show! And now it’s even-steven in the strength competition!” Before Max could continue, Jonathan broke in. “Excuse me, Max, I have something important to say. “Jamal, I find myself highly stimulated by this muscle-to-muscle competition. I know Max has another event planned, and I think it’s a tug of war, since I see a rope. But I have something in mind that might be more interesting for us both and for the audience. “I challenge you to a wrestling match, Jamal. I want to match my muscle power with yours from head to toe. And, in order to ensure maximum body contact, if it’s all right with you, Max, I prefer to wrestle in the nude!” The audience reaction could have been predicted: some gasps, some red faces, some catcalls, lots of howls and lots of applause. Cries of “Let’s go Jonathan!” began to swell, and Max motioned for silence. “Well, I wanted unique entertainment, and boy am I getting it! My parties have always had special features, but this one takes the prize! What do you say, Jamal?” “So you want to rassle with me, Jonathan? And you want to rassle naked? I would never have believed I could hear that challenge from such a bookworm. But you’ve proved that you are strong, and you’ve got very hard muscles. I really like to rassle with guys who have hard muscles. So let’s go at it on the mat with every part of our bodies in contact, the way the Greeks did it. I’m proud of what’s under these posing briefs, and I’m ready to let it all hang out!” The audience went completely wild! This would be a scene to remember for life! The two men quickly stripped for action. They were both generously endowed, but Jamal would win any contest of genitals. His smile indicated that he knew he had an edge in this particular department. Of course, Max had a mat ready for action, and it duly appeared. The two men walked over to it and began circling each other, their cocks and balls swinging menacingly. Each was reflecting on how to open the contest. Bob’s camcorder was running, and he was thrilled beyond words. Suddenly Jonathan lunged, tackled Jamal, and before anyone could really see what happened, there he was holding his opponent in a schoolboy pin. “I’m going to have to review that in slo mo. That was unreal! I wouldn’t have believed Jonathan could do it!” “Surprised, aren’t you, Jamal? Don’t know what hit you, do you? I’m so pleased to find that Henry Bellofatto’s ideas on how to surprise your opponent in wrestling really do work!” Jamal was too dazed to reply. “Now, Mr. Muscleman Jamal, I invite you to power your way out of this hold!” Bob was hard once again as he videoed Jamal’s struggles to break free. The straining muscles in his arms were truly awesome, but Jonathan maintained an iron grip. Jamal thrashed his legs to no avail. He twisted and pressed and grunted, but he couldn’t shake free. Bob was turned on more than ever as he fantasized himself in Jonathan’s place, looking down on this mass of muscle under his power. He watched Jamal’s heaving chest and imagined the hot breath emerging. He fantasized as to what it would feel to straddle Jamal’s magnificent musculature, naked, cocks and balls in contact. “No, you can’t cum again!” But he couldn’t stop, and he fought to hold the camcorder steady. Jamal finally spoke. “OK, Jonathan, I’m impressed. But now let’s see you break free from my pin!” “Exactly my plan,” replied Jonathan. “Let’s reverse positions.” Once again Bob was in ecstasy as he watched the musclegods maneuver into their hold. The nude bodies, glistening with sweat, were spectacular! He could see Jamal’s mouth curl as he took control of his adversary. “You’re not getting’ outta here, buddy, no way!” he boasted. Jonathan did not reply, but he began to pant with rapid, deep breaths. His concentration was intense. He prepared this way for about a minute, without any struggle, Jamal holding him tight. Jonathan was now ready to spring another surprise. His arms suddenly flew across his chest, and he pushed Jamal back, standing free, in triumph. Jonathan smiled, proudly “What do you say about my muscles now? Do you remember how scornful you were when we first met? “It was a Russian article that told me how to store up the absolute maximum in my power. Jamal, you didn’t have a chance. You just need to read some more books, and learning Russian might help!” Jamal rose from the floor, incredulous once again. “Jonathan, my man, I have to admit you amaze me. “Now I have a request of you, Max,” Jamal turned his attention to their host. “I’d like to have a little time to check out this man’s muscles. I can’t believe the power that emerges from that body!” Jonathan grinned in complete triumph. “It’s been a hard struggle, but I see you’ve finally admitted to the fact that I’m uniquely strong for my size. Actually, Jamal, I’d like to feel your muscles, too. Your triceps, pectorals, deltoids, trapezius and intercostals are particularly interesting to me.” “OK, my star musclemen, check each other out. I’m sure the guests will get some pleasure from watching,” replied Max. Jonathan flexed first, and Jamal worked his way up from the calves, through the quads, the abs, the pecs, and finally the arms. He squeezed mightily at each step and shook his head in wonder. “I’ve never felt a body like yours, Jonathan. Your cuts and your marble hardness set a new standard. I have to congratulate you.” “Better late than never, Mr. Muscleman Jamal. I’m grateful for the compliment and the acknowledgment. Now let me appreciate your best features.” Jonathan took his turn, concentrating on the upper body. Bob noticed as the two musclemen faced each other that their cocks were becoming semi-hard. Finally Jonathan was finished with his hands-on inspection. “You’re a great bodybuilder, Jamal. I’m thrilled to be able to match my muscles with yours. And I think your musculature is better than mine in one or two areas, especially in the deltoids and the triceps. I can’t forget that you defeated me in the Test of Strength!” “I’m honored by that compliment,” was the reply. And the two men continued to face each other at close range. “Listen to those unctuous comments. Are these really the same guys who were insulting each other just a little while ago?” As Jamal and Jonathan contemplated each other’s supremely muscular bodies, Bob noted that their semi-hard penises were on the rise, Jamal’s now pointing about nine inches into horizontal space, Jonathan’s somewhat smaller but tilted 30 degrees above. “I think we’ve reached a new stage in this encounter – it’s called mutual lust!” Suddenly there was action again. Jamal’s arms wrapped around his opponent in a massive bear hug, and Jonathan responded in kind. The audience, which had been silent for quite a while, began to resume yelling, each champion having vocal supporters. Bob zeroed in on the straining muscles, circling around the combatants. He fantasized about the feel of Jamal’s chest pressing against Jonathan’s and about their hard cocks rubbing against each other. “I think they’re both having the thrill of their lives.” They stayed locked in the bear hug for about two minutes, sweat oozing from their pores. Neither man could get an advantage. Then they tumbled onto the mat, still wrapped in each other’s arms, rolling to establish position. This time Jamal took the lead and looked as if he might gain control with a full nelson, but Jonathan powered his way out. They writhed and twisted, muscles glistening with sweat. The intensity of the body contact was gripping the entire audience. Jamal pulled away and stood up, waiting for a new takedown. Jonathan rose and confronted him. Both cocks were hard as they circled and tensed their arms for a renewed battle. “I’m looking at this. I’m videoing this. But I’m still not sure I believe it’s happening.” Jamal made the first lunge and succeeded in tackling Jonathan. This time he did gain control, stretching his opponent on the mat. Their legs were interlocked, crotches in contact, chests touching, and arms outstretched as Jamal held on. Jonathan was looking up at Jamal’s grinning face, about two inches away. For a few seconds he strained to get free, but he failed. Then it appeared that he relaxed and stopped battling Jamal. “Are you giving up already?” said Jamal. “No, I’d like to keep this muscle fight going. But Jamal, you’ve got to let me up quickly! It’s really urgent!” There was a pleading tone in Jonathan’s voice, as if he were asking a good friend to help him out of an emergency. Jamal was puzzled, but he withdrew, and Jonathan sprang to his feet. Jonathan faced the crowd, a drop of pre-cum on his penis. “I apologize to all of you for stopping the action. But if we had continued, I was very soon going to ejaculate, and I’m afraid that would have been out of bounds even for Max’s brand of entertainment.” The audience hooted, howled, then applauded. Bob then heard Jamal quietly telling Jonathan to come to his place after the party. Jonathan nodded in agreement. “Ohmygod! They’re going to continue in private! Now that would be something to get on video!” Bob was filled with what would surely be his ultimate fantasy. Max made another announcement. “Thanks, Jonathan, for your consideration. You’re right – that’s not what I had in mind for my show. But I’m proud of both of you fellas for your openness and your cooperation. And your awesome muscularity and strength have blown us away. “Since I didn’t prepare you for this event, I give you special credit for rising to the occasion!” There was thunderous applause. Jamal and Jonathan, the nude musclegods, waved and smiled as their names were shouted out again and again. Then they embraced in a prolonged hug. Bob could see that they were whispering to each other, but he couldn’t overhear this time. As they retreated from the stage to change, Bob lowered his camcorder. He figured his job was finished for the night. “Rising to the occasion! In more ways than one, I’d say!” And Bob smiled as he thought of his own manner of rising to the occasion. He wondered how many other men in the room had been stimulated into a similar reaction. Then Bob began to fantasize about the continuation of the encounter between the musclemen. Jamal opens the door to his home and ushers Jonathan in. Their first move is a passionate and prolonged kiss… Clothes come off, fast. Jamal wants a rematch of arm wrestling, and they go to the kitchen table. They flex for mutual admiration; they smile, they laugh, they brag again about their power. Then they lock arms, and Jamal confidently moves Jonathan 45 degrees down. Jonathan pushes him relentlessly back, then on to the table, laughing. Jamal picks Jonathan up and carries him into the bedroom, flinging him on the bed. They launch into a playful roughhouse, squeezing each other’s muscles at every opportunity. Jamal kisses Jonathan again, and their embrace is longer. Then his tongue starts working Jonathan’s pecs and nipples. Their legs are intertwined; their cocks are hard, and rubbing, pre-cum flowing. They both begin to convulse… “Hey, Video Bob, what are you doing the rest of the night?” It was Jamal’s sonorous voice breaking the fantasy. Bob snapped to. He certainly didn’t expect Jamal to locate him in the dispersing crowd. “Oh, I dunno. I figured I’d go home and review some scenes from this amazing party.” “Yeah, it was pretty amazing, wasn’t it? And I gotta thank you for your role in making it happen. Without you, I might not have met my muscle buddy, Jonathan!” He put his arm around Jonathan, and they both grinned. “You know it was really exciting for me, too, and I’ve got this great video for the rest of my life. You guys will each get a copy, of course.” “Yeah, I figured you might do that for us. “Now we have an idea for you,” Jamal side with a sly smile. “How about coming to my place for some more musclefun? We’ve decided we want you to be our private videographer.” Bob nearly sprang another gusher right there and then. Comments to: caljerpa@hotmail.com