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The combination of a heavy session in the gym, ball busting sex with our new “training buddies”, a much needed, high protein meal, then another round of sucking and fucking and the two of us were wiped out in the taxi, headed back to the workshop.
It was barely 4 months since that momentous day when Badger walked in on my squat session and I found myself marvelling at everything around me that had changed: Home, work, training regime, just everything!
Something was foremost in my mind, however, something I could not ask in the taxi, so I waited for a good moment once we were indoors again. Kind of guessing that Badger would have questions for me too about how we’d spent our afternoon in lust with other men for the first time. I had been there previously, but it became part of what I imagined as a whole new dimension to how Badger and I lived together, slept, ate and trained together.
I was walking a little carefully, after having my insides totally rearranged by Big’s fantastically proportioned cock. I knew from prior experience, you need to take a bit of time to mend after a fuck pole like that slams in and out of your arse. My balls and my prostate were humming contentedly and telling me what empty means.
Climbing the short flight of stairs into our living quarters, somewhat unusually, I took one step at a time and noticed, with a wry smile that the mighty Badger was making heavy work of the same exercise.
We threw our gym kit down, still crammed with damp towels, sweaty T shirts, shorts, and jocks- a treat for someone else perhaps- we just needed to crash. Badger continued, without pausing, to the corner of the loft where his home built partitions made a sleeping space and tumbled into bed, fully clothed, face down.
I lay myself down on that massive mattress and carefully snuggled up to the familiar mass that was home and food and the best friend I’d ever had. His whole body vibrated with one of his purring noises being mostly absorbed by his bristly face submerged in the bed clothes. He reached, lazily but warmly, for some grasp of me, a nearby knee before falling, completely under the spell of sleep. However puzzling the after effects of sex with Dan and Big John might be, I was assured of his astonishing, titanic tenderness. My somewhat sluggish imagination slowed like a mechanical toy coming to the end of it’s inertia and I was also lost in contented slumber.
Two hours or so later, the small beer I’d had during our barbecue made it’s presence known and I was required to let it out. A huge arm weighted me down and I knew it could not be lifted against the shoulder joint, I slipped myself sideways and out from underneath what seemed at that moment like a great fallen branch. Many times I’d wondered what if felt like to carry around that huge frame, all that muscle. He seemed so natural, so unaffected by it, except when the monster took over when there were weights to pull or push. He was astonishingly agile, and flexible too. Our stretching regime in the mornings and after our training were prolonged and carefully studied. Something he would never stint.
I stripped and showered after my nocturnal leakage was done. I carefully dried around my tender arse and studied the towel for signs of bleeding, thankfully none. As I looked up, the familiar dark shape of the master of the house filled the doorway, his sleepy face, rumpled with the impressions of crumpled bed clothes, tousled hair and eyes squinting against the glare of the light over the bathroom mirror. His broad smile glinting out of the surrounding mess of hair and beard and darkened room.
“No damage?” said he with a sneaky smile. “That’s one hell of a hose pipe that boy’s got,” he snorted “Must be the biggest I ever saw close up.” he added, before unselfconsciously licking his moustache and reaching out a huge hand towards me as if fearful of leaving the support of the doorframe.
“When I looked up to see you throating that fucker, I almost fell on the floor! ” he leered ” Now that’s an exercise you can advise ME on!” and rocked with a familiar rumbling laugh, blurting out “Then he shoved that thing up your tail as if it was nothing… ffaaa!” his speech disintegrating into his mixture amusement and disbelief, before he managed to conclude with “And you absolutely loved it!”
“Well, Mr. Surprise, topping for a change! Topping Mr. Top, no less and damn near breaking his arse!” said I, playfully.
Suddenly more serious and slightly bashfully, he whispered “Don’t feel the need to top as a rule.” Rumpling my hair with his great mitt. “Well, not now I have you around.”
He’d shocked me completely unawares. My heart leapt and a tear welled up in my eyes, as my tired body, overcome with emotion, lurched towards him and his great forearm pulled me in to nuzzle his fuzzy neck. I could hardly believe the privilege this amazing specimen of a man had granted me.
He had accepted so naturally the previous intimacy between the “boys”, as he referred taksim escort to the off-duty officers, and myself. He’d worked out roughly what had transpired between the three of us, in the months before I knew him, and figured it could do no harm to mix it with them as a couple. It hadn’t gone to any kind of plan but was all the better for the natural way he’d approached the whole thing. Big had been a surprise, on many levels but he and Dan had been great company and Badger had been as impressed by them as I had the first time we got together.
“That’s not going to happen after every gym session!” Laughed the big man
“Hell no!” said I. “Their shifts patterns change about and sometimes we don’t see each other for a month.”
“Maybe every couple of months would be for the best” Chuckled Badger and we kissed playfully and then again he turned more sober, his dark eyes looking intensely down into mine “We both need rest.” he pecked gently “I also need to get past you to pee!”
If you’ve never been a bodybuilder, nor lived with one, you won’t comprehend fully the logistics of getting two pairs of oversize shoulders through doorways designed for more modest sized people. You won’t imagine the comic potential of circumstances which occur, even though Badger had built his accommodation to suit his overly large physique, the two of us passing one another in the opening in the wall between bed chamber and bathroom in the half-light . Me half-heartedly stopping him getting past to the toilet, knowing that eventually he would just bear-hug me, pick me up, turn around and be on his way to the porcelain.
The sound of the shower lulled me back to sleep and I barely resurfaced when his 280 lbs bulk reshaped the mattress. It’s a feeling that always reassures and sends a flood of positive force through me when he puts his body next to mine, naked or clothed, even if we’re not touching, his proximity has a colossal charge that soothes and calms and energises me, sleepy as I was, I felt the same thrill of being close to him that his physical power always gives.
When I awoke, there was a banging sound from the metal roller shutter down below. Not only was it morning and a delivery driver was eager to get on with his day, Badger was nowhere to be seen.
I grabbed a towel rushed down to ground level, calling ahead so the guy could hear I was on my way. I unfastened the outside door to the side of the goods entrance and took the delivery driver by surprise, his back to me, as he was pounding on the roller shutter. As he turned towards the sound of the opening door and to me, he froze and his mouth just fell open. Even fully clothed, people notice a significantly muscular body but his surprise was not least because I was emerging almost naked, from what appeared to be a workplace.
“Wow! ” He spluttered and then gaped, openmouthed as I checked to make sure my towel was closed “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes!” blundered the driver, boldly checking me out from top to toe and taking his time about it.
“Delivery?” I said, hoping to re-focus him on the business of the day and distract him from my chest shoulders, arms and groin but he was having none of it.
“Everything on the truck is for you, Mr. Brock” he blustered, shaking himself free from his intoxication with my muscular torso and the remains of my ‘morning wood’ evident in the front of the towelling. I imagined he included himself in that declaration even though I am not Mr.Brock, I didn’t want to shatter his moment.
He moved toward me, clipboard in hand. Not a tall man but powerfully built and dressed to make the most of his solidity, filling his straight jeans completely and stretching a black T shirt that did nothing to disguise the fact that this guy was no stranger to the gym himself. Taught, sinuous and fit, rather than a heavy body builder, power and speed, not into bulking up in a big way, maybe, but he’d certainly taken an interest in my bulk and was not afraid to show it.
Cropped dark hair, a heavy stubble, a real tan and coarse dark hairs on his arms, extending to the backs of his large hands and even his fingers, high cheek bones and a slightly flattened nose. His expression, I’d say, was that of a hungry wolf. Making allowances for my naked state his confidence in coming on so strongly to a man bigger and stronger than himself was diffused by his broad smile and a superior turn of speed if my responses turned aggressive. He knew what he wanted, he was happy to back off without it if need be. All good tactics, as it happens.
In spite of myself, I was certainly interested, however, my curiosity towards the content of the delivery and the whereabouts of the true addressee were my priorities. I wasn’t anxious about Badger but I was uncomfortable signing for goods I had no idea about.
With that, the sound of a large vehicle approaching broke into my thoughts. A mobile crane, from the tool and plant hire yard around the corner and at the wheel, the unmistakeable çapa escort form of the man himself. He lurched to a halt a few feet from the truck, underestimating the ferocity of air brakes and unused to driving heavy vehicles. Alongside the hirsute bulk of my best buddy, sat a small, nervous man in thick spectacles, who’s mutterings, presumably in response to the rough ride, could be read through the glass of the cab.
The mis-matched couple descended, the one, with a professional familiarity, the other, with more enthusiasm than confidence. Leaving the motor running, Badger quickly apologised to myself and our delivery driver, who was now double taking between Badger and myself, checking the big man out, putting two and two together. The big fella explained that he’d been expecting the delivery and had arranged to pick up Mr. Owen around in the hire yard but the crane was late back from a rental. I’d worked out that there must be some embarrassment about driver licensing preventing Mr. Owen driving on the street. The little guy was obviously on a very tight schedule, running favours for his oversized neighbour and agitating for a sight of the job at hand.
Switching seamlessly back into his professional roll the delivery man shook hands with “Mr. Brock” and although I was not entirely forgotten, I could tell that the wolf was now focussing on a different objective and had adopted an altogether more respectful posture. Was it Badger’s size, the easy, powerful way he moved, or did this guy get the same extraordinary buzz of charismatic energy that I feel when I’m near him.
I slipped back inside to find some shorts and shoes, as Badger went to inspect the contents of the truck. All too obviously, the driver wanted to get his load off. In the two minutes until I re-emerged on the tarmac forecourt, The tarps were off the truck and there was revving and hydraulic noise from the crane as Mr. Owen and the Wolf worked together to sling a large bundle of timbers, before it was hoisted clear of the truck. It became clear that not only was the crane for off loading, for which a forklift would suffice, Mr. Owen extended the arm of the crane and the timbers were raised high over the parapet wall and impatiently explained, with gestures, that the payload would not unsling itself.
Badger motioned to me to follow him up to the roof but once there, as we readied ourselves to guide the first sling of timbers down onto the roof decking a police car pulled up on the forecourt. The sole occupant of the car, a tall uniformed officer, jumped smartly out, looked briefly at the crane then up towards the roof, when we noticed the familiar broad shouldered figure was none other than Big John, who saluted smartly when he saw us.
“Can’t stop.” he called, “I can see you’re busy anyway,” he continued with a nod towards the truck and crane, “I wanted to check the address, I’ll call back later, I want to talk about a serious training routine!” and with a wink, he went back to the car and was gone.
Owen, who was more agitated than ever in the presence of the squad car, obviously wanted to get the job done and get out of there, perhaps there was something else in the background making him nervous. We signalled for him to lower the load, then unslung the bundle in order to free the crane for the next trip, a large cuboid box on an oversized palette, followed by another two slings of timbers.
Aside from the huge box, the load might have been carried up to the roof through the building but the speed with which the crane delivered the goods to the roof made owing Mr.Owen a favour well worth while and 10 minutes after Big had left, the whole load was safely stacked. Badger accepted that I should drive Mr.Owen back to his yard, so I pulled on a T shirt and I climbed into the driver side with Owen hesitantly accepting the position of driver’s mate. I’d grown up with farm vehicles and drove huge bailers and even a combine before I was 16, this thing was a toy by comparison.
As we rumbled off the forecourt Badger turned to our lupine driver, who was stowing his tarps and ratchet straps ready for his homeward journey and showing his bristly lower back between his T and the waistband of his jeans.
“Coffee?” he called, there was a euphemism in his way of saying the word that had nothing to do with caffeinated beverages and a lot to do with the hyper-masculinity of his resonant bass voice. The coffee would be barely brewed before I was back from my errand and of course Badger knew that. He also knew that this driver was hot for both or either of us and probably had in mind a manner in which that heat might be utilised. He went inside and put the coffee on anyway.
Very shortly after and eager to satisfy as ever, our driver, standing by the open door with his clipboard and pen, greeted me with his broad confidant smile as I jogged back around the corner and onto the yard.
“Did I hear coffee mentioned?” I asked mischievously and gave the man a knowing bakırköy escort wink. “I don’t think Mr.Brock will be bringing it down, we’d better go in.” I gestured towards the door, and guided our friend through it with the other hand around his shoulder. The catch closed behind us with a reassuring solidity.
As he took the stairs ahead of me my face came level with the shapely denim, taught over his arse and bulky thighs, I’d completely shaken off the heavy sleep and really warmed u to the idea of porking this guy before breakfast, which I had assumed Badger also expected. We followed the smell of strong coffee drifting through the living space towards the stairs as we emerged onto the upper floor.
Three big mugs on a tray by the machine and more in the pot. As so often in these cases conversation gets in the way of instinct. We each took a mug and I motioned to our visitor to help himself to the third.
Mr. Brock, dressed for comfort in his usual baggy T and sweat pants put his mug down and with a swift gesture took his T off over his head to the accompaniment of a sharp intake of breath from Wolf, whom I’d half expected to howl in approval at the astonishing beauty and mass of Badger’s build.
“Is this the kind of thing you had in mind? asked Badger, a toothy grin from ear to ear lighting up his broad, swarthy features. The endearing gap between his perfect front teeth lending his clearly lascivious smile a childish innocenceIt was then that I noticed the potential ethnic similarities between them but the little guy just kicked off his boots slurped down the rest of his coffee and went strait to the tie at Badger’s waist, untied it and slipped his hands inside the broad elasticated band over the bristly flesh and around to badgers magnificent glutes.
He deftly brought the fabric down over Badger’s colossal thighs and thrust his face into the musky warmth of groin, barely distinguished from the surrounding forrest of closely clipped dark hair. Gripping behind Badger’s knees to steady himself, snorting and snuffling in the foliage more like a wild boar than the wolf I’d assumed he’d be. So while he was pigging out on the essence of a 280 pound super muscle bear, I peeled off my T and shorts, then I reached around the waist of the bending figure, popped the belt and buttons of his tight jeans and with a couple of tugs brought his own bronzed and bristly butt into view.
There was a change of dialect in the expressions of beastly enjoyment as he took Badger’s delicious cock into his mouth and throat, something more nasal about the passionate grunting and slurping and gasping. Another change could be heard as I too bent into the procedure with tongue lips and teeth, vigorously devouring the tail end of the wolf pig I’d just exposed. His gasps took on a pleading quality interspersed with stifled sighs and whimpers. I was really in my element with a powerful arse and thighs using my arms to pull my face in deeply and open his crack and hole with my tongue, massaging and nibbling with my lips and teeth, I could feel his body quaking with desire, aching for more and more penetration. I reached under him for his thick uncircumcised cock, rock hard between his legs beyond a nut sack both long heavily laden with duck egg sized gonads. He whimpered strongly and not without discomfort as I pulled it back towards me against his will to suck the massively broad, somewhat flat head into my mouth.
The length broadened still further toward the root and I realised my objective of getting enough of it into my throat to trigger my own slimy saliva for lube could not be achieved from this angle without breaking it right off and or crushing his magnificent nuts into the bargain. I got down and spun round so I could get my head between his legs and could then access the full length head on. The girth of it was tremendous as it neared his pubic bone, and as I let my throat relax to swallow it down I realised with a huge thrill that it was filling more and more as I swallowed and then he bucked forward to cram it in to the hilt, sensing a rare opportunity to stuff his whole cock into someone who wasn’t begging for mercy and for him to stop. It was breathtaking, in more ways than one. I reached up to grab the base of his balls in my fist and pulled the whole ensemble firmly but playfully a few times with increasing pressure, as I enjoyed myself. I backed off and he pulled his own throat off Badger to gasp out “Fucking fantastic!” before diving back into his own deep throat work. I could feel the rocking as Badger grabbed the back of the man’s head and fiercely fucked his face with a careful but vigorous rhythm and he, in turn, plunged his thickly veined broadsword back down my gullet to my great delight.
My objective was achieved anyway with my throat now full of the very best lube available, generated by throating a fat cock, my own saliva, however, it was suddenly supplemented with a gush of Wolf Pig ketchup, rich, creamy and sweet. The amazing hardness, pulsating and rippling, threatening to split my guts open with it’s pump action as his goo spat viscous ribbons of white hot energy into my belly. To say I was fired up to fuck, as I repositioned myself, would be the understatement of the age.
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