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| ~ Mule fights with his Dad ~ |
Last Time on Mule's Blog.....
A long time ago in a galaxy far,
far away....known as Duke
BAR WARS
episode 318
THE RISE OF MULE
Mule and Joe had agreed to have a meet-up, for some wrestling and some story-time. Joe proved to be a worthy opponent, and was a more skilled and powerful wrestler than Mule had anticipated! To Mule's surprise, Joe took everything Mule had, and gave it right back to him. Mule and Joe were at a stalemate, ending with a mutual bearhug and cockfight. Both came at the same time, and the cockfight ended in a tie. Part II starts where Part I left off.
Part II - Father vs Son
A STORY BY YOUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD MULE
With assistance by the usual Mule's Blog gang of writers, editors and artists:
Stefan
Enrique Nieto Nadal
Steve
And special thanks to Andrew Bruno, for the story idea, and the copious suggestions he made, to make the story moar better!
NOW...
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The match ended in the fashion Joe had wanted it to. With our muscular bodies locked together in a mutual bear hug, biceps flexed into each other’s ribs, as we ground our cocks together. Our bodies were racked with pain and pleasure until we ended up screaming in mutual orgasm.
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Grunting and groaning, with our muscular bodies locked
together in a mutual bear hug, we ground our cocks together until with a scream, we both threw our heads back, held each other even tighter, and simultaneously shot our massive loads |
I slowly eased my self lower into the hot tub, holding my lower back. My ribs were fucking killing me too, they hurt every time I took a breath. "Daymn Joe, that was a hell of a grappling session. I thought you were going to pull out a win against me a few times. I had no idea you’d be such an … enthusiastic fighter! And what an ending! I was going all sorts of homo by the end of our cock fight! And to think I came here here like I was doing you a favor. Double god Daymn!!! LOL"
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After our grueling grappling match, Joe and I
rehabilitated our beat up bodies in his hot tub.
OK, Mule, now I want to hear the story of
when you fought your Father.
Let's hear it, man...and don't leave anything out! |
"Yeah, I've heard that from a lot of big cocky musclemen like you, to be honest. No offense. Just keeping it real!" Joe replied, without a hint of bragging or arrogance. Just spitting out the facts. That's Joe!
Once we had gotten comfortable in the soothing warm water jets of the Jacuzzi, Joe looked at me and said: "OK, Mule, like we discussed on FB, I want to hear the story of when you fought your Father. Here, I have a copy of our FB convo on my phone..."
And thus our tale continues in Part II: Mule vs his Dad:
Attention Lazy Blog Fans.
If you can't be fuk'd to read a lot of background biographical shit leading up the the real reason you are prob here, you can skip the following and go directly to the Mule vs Pop fight section.
"OK, Mule, like we discussed on FB, I want to hear the story of when you fought your Father. Here, I have a copy of our FB convo on my phone:"
Mule's Life Story, as told to Joe in the Hot Tub
OK, my Mom was a 25 year old lawyer just starting at the largest law firm in New Orleans when she went to a Charity Fundraiser that was making money by raffling off dates with players on the Saints Football team. My Dad was a 23 year old Saints' linebacker, a starter,, and in his second year in the pros. Pop was quite a stud-a Cajun bull, six foot four in height and weighing in at two hundred and forty pounds, broad-shouldered and solidly muscled, with blonde hair and green eyes, with a winning smile and a big dick. He was handsome enough to be a male model, although anyone looking at him could guess at a glance that he was a professional athlete - even if they hadn't seen him play live or on the ESPN highlights. When Mommy saw my Daddy walking down the ramp at the charity auction, her ovaries went into hyperdrive and she had to have him. She doubled the last offer and took Dad home that night.
Two weeks later, Mom announced that she and Dad were going to be married. Initially her family was horrified. They were a very old Louisiana family and high society, a long line of plantation owners and politicians: Four Governors, 2 Congressmen (my grandmother and my grandfather), and a whole lot of bankers, judges and lawyers included. (The bank robbers, embezzlers and smugglers in the family tree were never mentioned, however.) They had been in Louisiana since they had to flee France because they had picked the wrong side in the French Revolution. But I digress.
But it was my Grandmother, maybe the most crafty politician of them all, who turned out to be in favor of the marriage! She was a devotee of the discredited science of eugenics. After all, her plantation owning antebellum ancestors had spent a century selectively breeding Negroes to make perfect human livestock.
My Grandmother's idea was for a grandson she could groom to run for her old seat in Congress. But the men in the family were dark, short, and not particularly attractive. In the modern TV and social media age, that offered some challenges to her plan for a grandson-politician. The thought of my Mom and that Adonis of a Pro Football player producing a tall, blond, good looking son-candidate could make her dream a reality.
Well, two months later, Mom and Dad had a big wedding befitting New Orleans royalty, were married in St. Louis Cathedral by the Archbishop, had a huge reception at the old ladies white glove Orleans Club and spent their honeymoon night at the Windsor Court before departing for Bermuda. Unfortunately my Mom caught Dad fucking one of the staff at the Hamilton Princess while on honeymoon so the marriage was off to a rocky start, but hey, at least he was faithful for the first four days!
I was born 7 months later and at the time, I was the 3rd largest baby ever born in Louisiana, at least since they started keeping records of such things. My Dad had been caught fucking one of the nurses at Baptist Hospital, while Mom was in the delivery room, which caused him to miss my actual birth.
By time I was four, Dad was out of the picture. My mom had finally had enough of him being the community dick. His football career had been ended by a knee injury. He used his modest fame as a ex-star NFL football player to open a Buick-GMC dealership in Plano, TX and to everyone's surprise, he did quite well with it, eventually owning a string of auto dealerships. He married and divorced three more times in the next 5 years, then wised up and stuck with long-term relationships. I saw him 1 or 2x a year until I was about 7, and then that mostly stopped too. Dad just wasn't that interested in children, even his own.
As I grew, the family joke was "Mule got his Mom's brain and his Dad's athleticism. Just Thank God it wasn't the other way around!"
I very athletic and good at sports as a youngun'. In middle school I started wrestling and playing football. By grade eight I was spending all my free time in the team weight room. I joined my first gym at 14, and rode my bicycle there every day until I was old enough to drive. As long as I kept my grades up, it was all good with Mom. I think I got away with a lot since I looked so much like my Dad. Despite the 39 documented infidelities (most with women at least - but Pop did have a fondness for Trannys) that the private detective had presented at the divorce proceeding, my Mom still had a sweet spot for Pop.
I very athletic and good at sports as a youngun'. In middle school I started wrestling and playing football. By grade eight I was spending all my free time in the team weight room. I joined my first gym at 14, and rode my bicycle there every day until I was old enough to drive. As long as I kept my grades up, it was all good with Mom. I think I got away with a lot since I looked so much like my Dad. Despite the 39 documented infidelities (most with women at least - but Pop did have a fondness for Trannys) that the private detective had presented at the divorce proceeding, my Mom still had a sweet spot for Pop.
I started on the JV Football team in Grade 8, playing linebacker. I was also wrestling. I was good at both and I was getting noticed by Grade 9. I started getting some press and started showing up in the High School rankings. By Grade 10 I was already getting scouted by colleges. All of a sudden, my Dad gets interested in me again.
He even starts coming to some of my games and matches. But I'm still pissed off at him for leaving and I ain't in the mood to play out some long-lost Daddy returns Hallmark movie shit. When I got my football scholarship to Duke he was an asshole about it saying Blue Devils was the worse Division 1A team in the Atlantic Conference. He did give me a Jeep for HS graduation. Of course, my football scholarship saved the 'rents $50000 a year in tuition, so he still came out way ahead.
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| Now, Mule, your Ma's making a sissy of you - teaching ya manners 'n stuff. A man's gotta know how to fight.... Me and your cousin Moe are gonna teach you how. And none of that pussy middle school wrestling based on points and shit. Real grappling! |
He even starts coming to some of my games and matches. But I'm still pissed off at him for leaving and I ain't in the mood to play out some long-lost Daddy returns Hallmark movie shit. When I got my football scholarship to Duke he was an asshole about it saying Blue Devils was the worse Division 1A team in the Atlantic Conference. He did give me a Jeep for HS graduation. Of course, my football scholarship saved the 'rents $50000 a year in tuition, so he still came out way ahead.
I was first string starting Defensive End my freshman year at Duke. One day, our giant Samoan linebacker Coach mentioned something about having been talking to my father....and I was all: "Da Fuck! What? When? Where?"
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When the linebacker Coach said he had been talking to my
father about me... I was all:
Da fuck??! What? When? Where?
|
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| Da fuck?!?!? |
Well it comes out that my Dad had attended every football game I had been in. And was emailing and chatting the Linebacker coach with tons of suggestions about Moi. As an ex-pro NFL linebacker his advice was respected. He was like an idiot-savant of football. Dad had a pipeline to the coaching staff and not only giving a ton of advice he also was gathering a ton of info on me. So Dad was stalking and doxing me? Well he was still an asshole and I still didn't give a shit.
By Junior year I finally took him up on his offers for taking me out for supper. We ended doing that several times. He was very much a know-it-all about all things football, nutrition and training. Why do old people think they know everything and talk so much?
Pop was also still good looking and exceptionally well put together. He had never given up his loves of bodybuilding and wrestling! You could see his muscles moving under his shirt. I had to admit, he looks more like my older brother than my father. I finally saw what the legion of bimbos had seen in him.
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| Dad was still good looking and exceptionally well put together. I had to admit, he looks more like my older brother than my father. I could see what the legion of bimbos had seen in him! |
Pop had the build of a bodybuilder. His arms looked to be as big as mine - 22". His chest was freaking huge! Dad’s pecs stood out like a shelf and his lats looked thick and powerful. While my brick-hard abs have that rippling, deep cut, sculpted washboard look, my Dad's abs looked like stacked concrete blocks. No denying that this stud has a remarkable build, even to my standards. “Damn, it looks like Dad ate his Wheaties!” I think in amazement. "He must have spend years pumping iron to get a physique like that. I wonder if he lives in a fucking gym?” With those 22-inch arms and that 54-inch chest, my Dad was built like a muscle-god, and looked like he’d been carved from solid marble.
But we still weren't getting to be chums. I was doing my best. But Pop was still an asshole. Always being critical and trying to prove he was better than I was, and acting like he was the boss of me. I finally realized he looked at me as a kind of younger rival. Like the old bull hating on the new bull on Animal Channel. Something to do with the theory of evolution I think. Ask Editor-brah, he's real smart and understands that shit.
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| So Mule, tell about your feelings with respect to your father--- Umm, I don't do that feelings thing, Doc, I hit things and lift heavy things up and put them back down! Very interesting, I see! |
So this relationship rocked along into my Senior year. My Dad would talk about us going hunting often, but those plans always fell through. We tried a few other things, but to be honest we were both way too competitive in anything we did together. Especially when we lifted together. Didn't help that Dad was always cheating to win.
OK, well that was Mule's brief autobiography up to the point that you are interested in, which is:
Mule v Pop Fight:
Welcome back Lazy Blog Fans. We love all our fans, even the Lazy ones!
I knew Dad was in Durham, because he texted me about getting together. I had a date to fuck one of my regular sluts that evening, but told him I would meet up with him the next day. If there is one thing my Dad understands, it is PUSSY OVER FAMILY!
But then Krystal, my stripper/crack-whore/primary slut texted me she was on the “rag” again. Yeah, for the second time in a month? Anatomically impossible. She was such a bitch. She complained. She whined. She even claimed to have been raped by the Lacrosse team. She was annoying as fuck. But damn she was hot when she felt like it. She could milk the sperm out of a dead man. I couldn't stand to be around her other than when we fucked, but my cock got so hard every time she let me know she wanted my dick. And since I hated her I always gave her a grudge fuck, and fucked her brains out every time. Of course, the bitch loved it rough. Yeah, Krystal's hot! And mentally deranged.
I tried to text Pop back to say I could meet up with him after all, but it looked like he had turned off his phone. I know his favorite bar in town, so I took a chance and headed over to see if I could find him.
I walked into the bar and immediately I heard a familiar laugh. It was my Dad’s laugh. I had guessed right about the bar he was at.
And then I heard another laugh I wasn't expecting to hear here. It was Krystal's laugh. I recognized it immediately because to me it was as irritating as a fire alarm siren. But isn't she supposed to be home bleeding out her vagina?
I started to guess what was developing. Daymn! Damn Dad and his need to compete in EVERYTHING! I looked around the dark bar and finally found them in the back. They were both huddled together. More like entwined actually. My slut was feeling my Dad's big hard cock through his Levis and squeezing and groping it. Pop had all the buttons on his shirt undone, and my slut had slipped her hand into his shirt and was feeling up his chest muscles! That sloot bish was playing with his hard nipples and exploring his rock-hard abs. Dad had his tongue down the whore's throat and was feeling her up. I caught the familar smell Krystal's pussy leaking from half way across the room and see Dad's boner throb and leak in his jeans. Dad sure had a big one! Pop had stuck one of his hands inside Krystal's pants, and began playing with her she-boner. I felt like I was in some porn film where couples could have sex anywhere, any time!
Now, the average chump would do a 360, walk out the door, and never contact either one of them ever again. But that ain't the Mule. I have been cheated on plenty of times and frankly didn't care how many other dicks my sluts were taking. But I am taking this one personally. Not only is it a blatant violation of the Bro-Code, but somehow I feel I’ve been cuckolded by my own Father. My rage at them both knew no bounds.
I approached their table. They both looked up at me as soon as I approached them. It was as if they were waiting for me to catch them. So, was this a set up, I wondered? Did they want to see me yell and get violent? I looked at them both for a minute before speaking.
“You, bitch!” I said to Krystal, “You’re gone. I'm taking you out of my cock rotation permanently! I’ll never fuck you again.”
She started to complain and said she was just with my Dad to get me hot. I ignored that. Worst mistake she could have ever made if true.
“And you, cocksucker” I said to my Dad. "I want you to meet me at the practice field in an hour. I am going to beat you down like I should have a long time ago.”
I turned around and stormed out the bar. I was so mad I could have tarred and tethered him! I was gonna fuck him up like he was a steer in a slaughterhouse!
Unknown to me at the time, after the confrontation, Pop had headed back to his hotel room. He went to his gym bag, pulled out some ampules and filled a syringe with 600mg of Sustanon and 200 mg of Trenaboen. That's like a pro-level dose of gear! After giving himself a shot of the steroid cocktail in his asscheek, he injected 3 IU of GH subcutaneously. He then popped a couple of Anavar like the orals were Altoids.
He grinned. He knew Your Mule juiced. "A muscle-jock stud like Mule with all those muscles! There was no way he was Natty!", Dad thought! But he also knew (as did all the coaches, trainers, athletes and lots of just regular random fucks) that the NCAA was doing the "unannounced" (LOL) drug testing his week, which means I had stopped using gear at least 3 weeks ago to let the drugs clear my system. And when its a non-enhanced athlete vs an enhanced athlete, the enhanced athlete is going to win 90% of the time. They are called "performance enhancing substances" for a reason!
Pop didn't take steroids without a reason. He was huge--and had a real bad attitude with people that stood up to him. Dad was always itching to rumble. Sometimes he just needed to fight, and I, as you readers know, could relate to that! "I love a good brawl," Pop said to himself, taking a vodka shot on the way out of the hotel. "That snot-nosed big muscled brat Mule is about to get a beating he won't ever forget! Just because he's got a body like Hercules he thinks he's a big Bad-ass. Well his luck just ran out. He's finally ran into an even bigger Bad-ass. I won't just hurt him! I'll break him! Fuck, this is gonna be so much fun!!!"
I had not calmed down a single iota in the last hour. I was still boiling mad! Saying I was mad enough to kill would not be overstating it!
“So are you jealous that me and my big cock snaked your girlfriend, dude?” Dad says, rubbing salt into the wound!
I thought: "Would it kill you to call me 'son' instead of 'dude, bro, brah, buddy, or pal' occasionally, you friggin' jackwagon?!!!" Yes, I was really angry, and you readers know how I get when I am ANGRY!
No verbal reply from me to his taunt, as I pulled my shirt over my head and started stripping down for a fight. Dad is studying his opponent as my torso comes into view.
"So I guess you don't want to fuck Krystal with me?" He said, digging in the knife deeper, getting me horned up, not for that bish Krystal, but for a fight! " You know that all that poor girl wanted was for us to double fuck her! Both of us taking turns banging Krystal into uncontrollable waves of orgasm before we get to the double penetration. You take her pussy, I'll take her ass. You ever do that, dude? It's so hot when you and a buddy are able to feel your cocks rubbing against each other inside a slut!" Now, I had done double penetration plenty of times with my buddy Mongo, but with one's DAD as a wingman, that is just FREAKING WEIRD, even for ME! My dad was now pulling his own shirt off, revealing his incredible physique with great confidence. Stripped to the waist, barefoot and shirtless in blue jeans, he smiled at me as he ran his hands slowly over his solid pecs, down over his abs, then pressed his fists into the sides of his waist.
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| Stripped to the waist, barefoot and shirtless in blue jeans, Dad revealed his incredible physique with great confidence! |
OK, I smirked. I can play this intimidation game too. I stretched my muscles, showing off my own far younger and equally impressive physique. My tan made my blonde hair stand out, and I stretched and flexed my deeply tanned torso, straining to put every muscle on display. My broad shoulders, my rock-like delts, my sculpted chest, my deeply etched abs, my obliques, my serratus, -- I was a perfect specimen of male anatomy on display. I felt hot figuratively as in sexy, and literally as in temperature, as my body began heating up! My muscles were pumped, making my body look as muscular, big, and strong as ever.
It was uncanny how much me and Pop looked like each other. I mean I had been told that we were like twins all my life, by countless people, but now, with us both half-naked, I realized I was really like a fucking clone of my old man!
And while pervy*: fucking Krystal with my Dad sounds, I got to admit double fucking that faithless bitch, also sounded smoking hot, although I substituted another wingman in my mind to avoid some sort of weird mental image that belonged in a Greek tragedy! This ADJUSTED mental image made my dick move so that I had to grab my bulging crotch and readjust my swelling cock in my jeans.
Sex had to go to the back burner, I could rage fuck Krystal later, maybe with the whole football squad, now was time for a fight! ~The young bull vs the old bull, a battle of generations between MILLENNIAL and BOOMER!
"We are here to fight, not to pose," Pop growls, not liking how the posedown is going for him. We move towards each other and bump big chests and oversized packages. Cock-to-cock and chest-to-chest the huge bulges contained inside our jeans slowly lengthen and grow into full blown hard-ons. There is no denying that Pop is one horse- hung middle-age muscle stud. I am looking forward to this, it's going to be a battle between two superbly muscled specimens of alpha maleness. Two alpha males about to decide which one is boss. Just the sort of fight I like. I love getting my hands on someone and rag dolling the shit out of them. It's one of my favorite things in the world to do. This shit gets me harder than Viagra.
"Let's just get rid of these jeans and fight like the ancient Greeks, dicks out and bare ass naked. If you're man enough, Mule! " Pop challenges. If that sounds familiar, it's cuz I never forgot that line and still use it even today! "Shit yea, fuck why not, take it all off! and fight naked like Tarzan, jungle-style!!! I love wrestling nude," I responded enthusiastically! I'm tanned, I'm jacked, I have a big dick, a narcissistic exhibitionist with no self-awareness of invading someone's personal space. I have zero problem getting naked around others. So OF COURSE, I was game! We immediately both strip down, still facing each other, so we are both buck naked with our cocks swinging.
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| Let's just fight like the ancient Greeks, dicks out and bare ass naked! If you're man enough, Mule! |
Dad grins and says "Last time I saw your cock I had a diaper in one hand and a tube of rash cream in the other. It looks like its grown a tad." He takes a long look at my meat and grinned. "How about a little show and tell with your old man, kid?" Leave to a Dad, to make things awkward, as my hard-on sagged a bit, as those words came out of my Dad's mouth! Parents, am I right?
Pops assumes a stance with his legs wide, hands on hips in a Superman pose, and let it all dangle. "What a cocky fucker. So it looks like Pop and I are gonna compare our third legs? OK, I'm used to this. It's a Alpha Male thing, and especially common among Jocks. He's got a big one soft. Yeah, OK, a big limp dick is good for impressing other dudes in the locker room. But the only thing that really counts is how big it gets hard and we both know it. Time to get 'em up!" Yeah, mine was more flaccid than his had become, well at least momentarily, due to that awkward DAD MOMENT!
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| Last time I saw your cock I had a diaper in one hand and a tube of rash cream in the other. It looks like its grown a tad. |
Pop gave his huge half-hard sex tool a few slow squeezes and strokes to get it fully hard. I had to admire the old dude's boldness, he did it so casually it seemed almost natural. Dad was hung big, with a long, thick piece of meat, and a pair of enormous low-hanging balls to match. He began rubbing and stroking his naked ripped muscles with his free hand, running his hand idly over the deep crevices and rocks of his bare abs. It was sexy as hell, I have to admit. Don't judge me, you weren't there! Pop did some poses to show off his abs. I couldn't tell if Dad was doing it all to tease me or what, but I couldn't take my eyes off his naked muscles. That's what he wanted tho, after all, who was he showing off to, if not to me? I did a mini jack session to harden my big thick cock up, also. We both had a semi when Pop said "Nice cock, son. But I'm about to show you a real man cock!" Pop says as he gives me an equipment check. Comparing cocks is gay enough as it is, father and son dick measuring was another level of awkward. I mean, come on dude, just say something "nice cock bro-no homo!" Keep it short and sweet or else its kinda gay. I stood watching him and stroking myself until fully hard so we could size up and see who was bigger.
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| We stroked our cocks until hard so we could size up and see whose manhood was bigger |
Finally Dad got his his gigantic donkey dick fully erect. And so did I. Not trying to brag, but our twin cocks weren't just big, they were aesthetic as fuck. They were not only big, hard, and thick, but criss-crossed with huge pulsating veins. And I mean veiny like a bolt of lightning with a spiral staircase wrapped around it. SRSLY!
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| Not willing to accept the evidence, Dad insisted that we put our cocks side by side so they could compare. We had to stand so close that our naked chests were touching. |
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| What’s the matter pretty boy? Never seen a man-sized cock before? Pop was showing bigger cock, but I was soft and he had a semi! I might have only had six soft inches handing over my ball sac atm, but I knew that six would be nine when I got raging! |
“Bro...” Pop said deeply. “Yea” I snapped back up to look at Dad's face. “You’re not hard yet. We can't compare dicks until we are both fully hard! So stroke it up…get your cock rock hard. See how your boy-cock stacks up against my man sized cock they both get hard. It sounds like you are proud of your cock - you must love to compare. But, I don’t think you're going to like this comparison”
Pop has only seen my big fat soft cock yet, or he wouldn’t have still been smug. My stroking is getting me bigger…not fully hard yet…just more full. This was the place guys that want to compare cocks, shut up around me. This is where the attitude stopped and the penis envy started.
But not my Dad. He is still talking shit. "I'm winning," Pop brags.
"That's a bit premature, I'm just getting started, you stupid, cocky has-been meathead," I'm thinking. "Does he fucking ever shut up? Why do oldsters think they know everything and talk so much? Sheeesssh... And 'winning'? Jocks,especially those past their prime, always gotta be so competitive about everything!"
"Actually not just winning…Dominating!"
"Fuck Pop, still talking? Can't he see I'm busy wanking my cock? Does he ever stop spewing his bullshit?"
"You're used to getting respect from other hung meathead dudes in the shower, aren't you kid?
Do you think you would impress me? HA! I got a dick like the Goodyear blimp! Your dick is popcorn shrimp! Just look down and compare them. Are you still proud of your cock? When I win, you and me are going to hit the showers at the gym together. You're gonna have to stand in the showers next to this monster cock of mine. Do you think any of your gym crew would want to stand next to this in the showers? Do you envy my cock? Do you wish your cock and balls were as big as mine, boy?"
By this point I had stopped listening and decided someone, must be paying Dad by the word, for all the bullshit he was trying to sell. Less talking, more fighting, am I right? I shook out of my bored daze and while I still was itching to fight, I also wanted, as pervy as it was, in the worse way to compare cocks with Dad. Side by side, naked, he would be forced to give his super-hung son some fucking respect!
My cock was actually getting hard already. Comparing Dad’s fat nuts with mine was making my own churn up. I was half-way to hard already. But Pop's shit talk, as we compared manhood, was making it rise fast to full mast!
"Sorry to disappoint Dad, but it looks like I'm hung as big as you!" There was a legit look of disbelief in Dad's eyes, as I pronounced that my cock to be as big as his. "No way, mine is bigger." Pop insisted, stubbornly, Boomer style. Not willing to accept the obvious evidence, Dad insisted that we put our cocks side by side so they could compare. We had to stand so close that our naked chests were touching. Dad wrapped his huge paw around both his and my hard cocks. He was stroking them both slowly to keep us both fully hard as we stood chest to chest. The dick-measuring began. "See Pop? Dead even both on length and girth! Not even a hair width of a diff." Dad had to accept reality at that point. It was simply too close to call. For my Pop, whose team mates had nicknamed him 'The Cajun Sausage' when he was playing for the Saints, on account of his imposing and unmatched locker room presence, this hit hard.
Dad was used to having the biggest dick in the room, and fucking hated having to admit it was a tie!
Pop has only seen my big fat soft cock yet, or he wouldn’t have still been smug. My stroking is getting me bigger…not fully hard yet…just more full. This was the place guys that want to compare cocks, shut up around me. This is where the attitude stopped and the penis envy started.
But not my Dad. He is still talking shit. "I'm winning," Pop brags.
"That's a bit premature, I'm just getting started, you stupid, cocky has-been meathead," I'm thinking. "Does he fucking ever shut up? Why do oldsters think they know everything and talk so much? Sheeesssh... And 'winning'? Jocks,especially those past their prime, always gotta be so competitive about everything!"
"Actually not just winning…Dominating!"
"Fuck Pop, still talking? Can't he see I'm busy wanking my cock? Does he ever stop spewing his bullshit?"
"You're used to getting respect from other hung meathead dudes in the shower, aren't you kid?
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| You're used to getting respect from other hung meatheads in the shower, aren't you kid? |
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| Mah dick's bigger than the average in the fuckin congo - if ya knowhatimsayin! |
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| Welcome to the BIG LEAGUES son, little boy 'clit dicks' won't cut it in this echelon, boy! |
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| THIS IS WHERE WE SEPARATE THE BIG COBS OF CORN, FROM THE LITTLE TASSELS! |
Do you think you would impress me? HA! I got a dick like the Goodyear blimp! Your dick is popcorn shrimp! Just look down and compare them. Are you still proud of your cock? When I win, you and me are going to hit the showers at the gym together. You're gonna have to stand in the showers next to this monster cock of mine. Do you think any of your gym crew would want to stand next to this in the showers? Do you envy my cock? Do you wish your cock and balls were as big as mine, boy?"
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| HA! I got a dick like the Goodyear blimp! Your dick is popcorn shrimp! Pop boasted. |
By this point I had stopped listening and decided someone, must be paying Dad by the word, for all the bullshit he was trying to sell. Less talking, more fighting, am I right? I shook out of my bored daze and while I still was itching to fight, I also wanted, as pervy as it was, in the worse way to compare cocks with Dad. Side by side, naked, he would be forced to give his super-hung son some fucking respect!
My cock was actually getting hard already. Comparing Dad’s fat nuts with mine was making my own churn up. I was half-way to hard already. But Pop's shit talk, as we compared manhood, was making it rise fast to full mast!
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| Pop's team mates had nicknamed him 'The Cajun Sausage' when he was playing for the Saints, on account of his imposing and unmatched locker room presence! |
Dad was used to having the biggest dick in the room, and fucking hated having to admit it was a tie!
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| A father and son dick measuring contest! Cool! We were like a couple of hung jocks nonchalantly settling a 'who's bigger' bet in the locker room! (No Homo) |
But here we were, like a couple of hung jocks nonchalantly playing 'whose is bigger' in the locker room. "I figured you had a big one when I fucked your slut Krystal's loose cunt. Thanks for stretching her pussy out, that made fucking her a lot easier on me. Of course I had quite a bit more stretching out to do before her cunt could handle this.” Pop punctuated that statement by wrapping his hand around his cock and wagging it at me. My TRIGGERING intensified!
He grabbed his big thick cock at the base and flexed it a bit. "I just hope you can still hit the sides of that cave I made out of her twat". He said with a wink. "Krystal kept moaning that I was bigger and a better fuck while I pounded her once-tight pussy, but I think that was just a case of mature cock being better than young cock. Your slut was used to taking a huge cock, but she still squealed and broke beneath the power of my monster going balls deep. " Dad shook his massively thick, powerful cock at me to make his point. "Yeah, that crack-whore Krystal, a renowned slut who claimed to crave big cock, yet still squealed her lungs out when I had a turn at stretching her pussy. I destroyed that bitch, you’ll ever be able to do to her what I just did!"
"And I busted raw inside her. Balls deep, too! I made filled your whore with so much cum I probably gave her a baby, something an impotent little phaggot like you won't ever be doing!" Wait a sec now, is Pop bragging that he may have knocked up one of my sluts???
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| Pop looked down at our twin anacondas tangling below. I figured you had a big cock when I fucked your slut! The bitch kept moaning that my cock was bigger, but I think that was just a case of mature cock being better than young cock! |
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| Pop was hung like a horse! He flexed his muscular cock as he bragged: I ruined that bitch, Mule. I destroyed her pussy. You won't even be able to hit the sides of that cave my big cock made out of your slut's cunt! What a fucking asshole! I thought. |
He grabbed his big thick cock at the base and flexed it a bit. "I just hope you can still hit the sides of that cave I made out of her twat". He said with a wink. "Krystal kept moaning that I was bigger and a better fuck while I pounded her once-tight pussy, but I think that was just a case of mature cock being better than young cock. Your slut was used to taking a huge cock, but she still squealed and broke beneath the power of my monster going balls deep. " Dad shook his massively thick, powerful cock at me to make his point. "Yeah, that crack-whore Krystal, a renowned slut who claimed to crave big cock, yet still squealed her lungs out when I had a turn at stretching her pussy. I destroyed that bitch, you’ll ever be able to do to her what I just did!"
"And I busted raw inside her. Balls deep, too! I made filled your whore with so much cum I probably gave her a baby, something an impotent little phaggot like you won't ever be doing!" Wait a sec now, is Pop bragging that he may have knocked up one of my sluts???
"What a fucking asshole!" I thought.
"Stop calling Krystal a "whore" you fucking asshole!" I white-knighted as I came to my slut's defense. "She's not a whore, she's a 'sex worker!'
"At least I see that you inherited my big cock as well as my good looks, Mule!" my old man said with a chuckle.
"Young and dumb and full of cum! So my kid is oversexed and hung like a horse. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, that the apple falls so close to the tree and all that shit. But daymn!" Fully erect Your Mule’s 9-inch manmeat stood glistening at full mast, the enormous purple cockhead curved back toward his flat, hard belly. The cock throbbed as if hungry to penetrate the next available fuckhole. "And the way he just stands there, letting pre-cum dribble down his stallion-sized prick, as if such an porn-star worthy erection were a common occurrence for the kid. I sure won't tell the brat this, but gawd-double-daymn, my son is one hellava stud. And smoking hot, to boot!" Thinks Dad.
"Stop calling Krystal a "whore" you fucking asshole!" I white-knighted as I came to my slut's defense. "She's not a whore, she's a 'sex worker!'
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| I see that you inherited my big cock along with my good looks, Mule! |
"At least I see that you inherited my big cock as well as my good looks, Mule!" my old man said with a chuckle.
"Young and dumb and full of cum! So my kid is oversexed and hung like a horse. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, that the apple falls so close to the tree and all that shit. But daymn!" Fully erect Your Mule’s 9-inch manmeat stood glistening at full mast, the enormous purple cockhead curved back toward his flat, hard belly. The cock throbbed as if hungry to penetrate the next available fuckhole. "And the way he just stands there, letting pre-cum dribble down his stallion-sized prick, as if such an porn-star worthy erection were a common occurrence for the kid. I sure won't tell the brat this, but gawd-double-daymn, my son is one hellava stud. And smoking hot, to boot!" Thinks Dad.
"But did his Mom and his Granny ruin him? Raise him to be a sissy? A pretty boy that looks like Tarzan, but is soft as Jane? I got to know..." Pop is thinking. He had moved his head so close to mine, and I could feel him breathing on my neck since his mouth was practically in my ear. Then Dad wrapped his big hand over my hard-on and squeezed it for emphasis. "Too bad you're wasting this big cock by being such a little pussy! Come on you fuckin' wimp! Let's try and toughen you up some...” Gosh, was there a compliment in there somewhere! Maybe my Dad cares about me after all?
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| Too late to try and butter me up now old man! I am going to do a victory flex with my foot on your chest after I kick your ass! Out with the old, in with the new!!! |
“Too late to try and butter me up now you fucking cocksucker. I have taken all that I am going to take from you! I can’t wait to stand and do my victory flex over you, old man! My foot on your chest! Out with the old, in with the new. Time to put you out to pasture, Pops!!!” I grabbed Pop's bare hard cock in retaliation, cupping my big hand over his hard cock and balls and squeezed just hard enough for it to hurt.
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| I grabbed Pop's bare hard cock in retaliation, cupping my big hand over his hard cock and balls and squeezed just hard enough for it to hurt. |
"And keep your fucking hands off my dick, ya old perv*!" I snarled.
Pop's abs rippled and his pecs bounced. "The only one that will be doing a Victory Flex at the end of this match will be me. I am going to stand on your fucking neck until you can't breathe, Dude!"
My Pappy continued: “Just who the fuck do you think you are, kid. You show up flexing your pretty-boy muscles and think you’re some big tough fighter!? Well, let’s just see how fucking tough you ARE!” John-boy and co. had Pa Walton, Jethro and Ellie Mae had Pa Clamplett, Opie had Sheriff Taylor, those brats on the Prairie had Pa Ingalls, the Tanner kids on Full House had sensitive Dad and his two brothers for TRIPLE nice dads, the Fresh Prince had Uncle Phil, but me, I get Psycho Dad.
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| Pop's abs rippled and his pecs bounced. I'm the only one that will be doing a Victory Flex. I am going to stand on your f'n neck until you can't breathe! |
Pop's abs rippled and his pecs bounced. "The only one that will be doing a Victory Flex at the end of this match will be me. I am going to stand on your fucking neck until you can't breathe, Dude!"
My Pappy continued: “Just who the fuck do you think you are, kid. You show up flexing your pretty-boy muscles and think you’re some big tough fighter!? Well, let’s just see how fucking tough you ARE!” John-boy and co. had Pa Walton, Jethro and Ellie Mae had Pa Clamplett, Opie had Sheriff Taylor, those brats on the Prairie had Pa Ingalls, the Tanner kids on Full House had sensitive Dad and his two brothers for TRIPLE nice dads, the Fresh Prince had Uncle Phil, but me, I get Psycho Dad.
Pops wasn't finished belittling and baiting me yet: "So you think you're hot shit cause you play college football? I did that too! And I was playing linebacker at LSU, not some prissy rich boy school like Dook! Plus I had three years in the pros to boot. You call yourself a jock? You're nothing but a meathead with a big cock, bruh!"
"Ha, look who's talking, talk about the pot calling the peddle back," I think in Mulish malapropism, somewhat flustered and disconcerted by the bite of the old man's taunts!
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| So you think you're hot shit cause you play college football? |
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| You call yourself a jock? You're nothing but a meathead with a big cock, bruh! Ha, look who's talking, talk about the pot calling the peddle back! |
"So you think you're tough, Mule? Show your old man what you got. We fight all out, mano a mano, no holding back. No stinking rules, and no mercy! We just beat the shit out of each other. Simple, enough, Mule?" Pop challenged with a grin.
"That's just the way I likes it, Dad. In fact, that's the only way I ever fight!" I replied with a grin of my own. Time for payback that has building up for years!
Still, I am a southern boy at heart, and while I had good cause to beat the shit out the man, he was still my elder, and Pops! (I was still in College, then, so still had some of that gentile in me that Ma and Grandma tried so hard and unsuccessfully to instill! Shout outs to Mom and my late Granny, they done their best to try and civilize me! But now my old man was gonna see the beast that Mom and Granny couldn't tame! )
So, I try to put the fact that this is my Father, and had a couple of decades on me, out of my mind, and tell myself that I am squared off with just another muscleman athlete. If he wants to treat me like just another muscle-bound meathead, then I can do the same! I've fought big meatheads like this 49847 times and he ain't no different! "Fuck you! My toaster sized fists gonna have you screaming & flailing around like a school girl. I am gonna beat your body 'till you're mashed potatoes. These fists are gonna force grunts and groans outta ya like never before.... I'm gonna give you the worst beatdown of your life!" I'm not even sure where all that pent up anger came from, but something had me 'roid raging. A head shrinker could tell me, if I believed in such things, but fuck feelings when you got fists of iron!
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| So you think you're tough, Mule? Show me what you got. |
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| We fight all out, mano a mano, no rules and no mercy! We just beat the shit out of each other until one of us is knocked the fuck out! As Simple as that, Mule! |
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| I try to forget this is my Father and pretend that I am squared off and throwing hands with just another asshole muscleman, who deserves a beatdown! Which frankly, he does! |
"Pops, just look at me, my body in the prime of youth. You really think that your waning past-your-glory-days, sagging muscles are any match for me, old man? This is gonna go real bad for you, you senile, demented, delusional old fuck!"
“Boy, I m gonna make you pay for that. Your mouth is writing checks your ass can't cash! You are gonna be one sorry motherfucker you little punk!” Dad replies as he prowls back and force like a tiger, working on his 'game face'. Dad's body was impressive. He was a powerhouse. The middle-aged stud is flexing his thick chest and rippling stomach muscles as he circles me. His fat cock and low-dangling bull balls slap against his muscular thighs as he does. I had to admit that for an old dude, Dad was one hell of a fucking stud!
This is gonna be a heavyweight duel between me and my Dad. I am more lean and defined and Pop's beefy bulk is massive rounder fuller and heavy. Dad weighed in at a solid 260 lbs, maybe a little more, while I turned the scales at 252 lbs, and every ounce of it was solid, young-jock muscle. Both of us stood about 6'3”. Any fight that involves two men our size ain't gonna be some pussy grade school shit. So if someone is standing in front of you sizing you up, you punch that mother fucker in the chin and knock his ass the fuck out. You don't stand there and have a conversation with him. So I threw the first punch.
I punched Pop in the jaw with a solid uppercut! He looked surprised. "What? He didn’t think I’d hit him? This is a fight old man. remember?" I mused in silent fight rage!
"YOU READY TO GET ROLLED, BITCH?!" I yelled! Dad wasn't stunned tho, just surprised. He rubs his jaw slowly, and looked me over from head to toe, with a hint of a smile. My Dad, who is used to intimidating and totally dominating his rivals when he fights, just snarls at me: " I'm gonna fuck your shit up..."
We threw our bodies together in a clinch, with an impact like two Mack trucks having a head-on collision. We were feeling each other's power out, with us still standing but struggling for dominance.
We put our hands up for a real test of strength. Well, maybe paws would be more apt than hands. Looking at our big, veiny hands pressed together I realized where I had gotten my hands the size of baseball mitts from. Hands that were great for sports. I was a bad typer tho, my thick fingers would always hit 4 keys at a time. Pop and me locked our huge hands.
 |
We threw our bodies together in a clinch, with an impact like
two Mack trucks having a head-on collision.
|
Dad came in close. We banged chests. I felt him press his pecs harder into mine. We were two giants pushing against each other with all our might, rubbing our heaving chests together, and mashing our big hard erect nipples against each other. Grunting like animals, we were two crazed bodybuilder using all our power to try to move the other. Our chests again collided, our spiking nipples pushing deep into the nipples of the other. Straining with all my might, I felt my mammoth thighs began to quiver. Dad's big chest and eight pack abs were heaving. His generation older muscles, now pumped full of blood and testosterone from our struggle, bulged and flexed. His arms and torso were as beefy as mine!
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| Dad came in close. I felt him press his pecs harder into mine. |
|
| Our chests again collided, our spiking nipples pushing deep into the nipples of the other. Dad's big chest and eight pack abs were heaving. His generation older muscles, now pumped full of blood and testosterone from our struggle, bulged and flexed. Straining with all my might, I felt my mammoth thighs began to quiver |
Both still trying for a takedown, we feel each other out, pressing back and forth. We push and shove, maneuver and shift as we struggled with each other. It was two big males both grunting and growling as we wrestled against the other's equally strong and massive muscle.
It's too bad we didn't have an audience for this. I should have told Krystal to come, so she could have watched two muscled gods battling for total dominance. That would have made that bish wet! Speaking of wet, sweat was covering both of us, as our grunts and moans filled the sticky hot night air! All while out heavily muscled bodies moved around and around. Shame that Krystal wasn't here to smell the humid air that was super charged with the heavy, almost suffocating atmosphere of testosterone mixed with the pungent, pheromone charged sweat of pumped up muscle. That was a musk guaranteed to spread a chick's legs faster than her watching a movie with Jason Momoa in it! Plus she was missing the audible sounds of grunts and groans of maximum exertion, as muscles were strained to their limits. It feels great to be against a guy who's this big and strong, the power of both of us, muscle gods seemed equal, a feature of our shared superior genetic heritage! I told you grandma knew about breeding!
But Pop decided to break the stalemate. He drove his knee up into my groin. My balls exploded in pain. A searing pain that worked it’s way from my groin to my brain. Low blows are the go-to for football jocks when a fight breaks out on the field. When you are both in uniform and padded up, helmet on, the most vulnerable target is gonna be a players gonads. So since we were both football jocks, slamming his knee up into my balls was an instinctive move. All the years I spent playing sports and boxing paid off: I was able to take that knee and keep fighting. But since Pop had kneed me in the balls, I kneed him right back landing a perfect knee strike into his big low hanging nuts.
I was surprised by the grin on his face and only a loud grunt as a reaction to the nut shot I had landed on him. “Classic rookie mistake big guy” he sneers . “ I was ready for that! My loins were girded! You ain't man enough to rack my nuts,” A boast that sounds strange when it comes from the lips of one's Dad, I must admit! He slams his torso into mine and growls: “But you can lick em!” He says as he mashes his big shaved smooth bag of lemon-sized nuts against mine! That was even weirder and MOAR AWKWARD for him to say! "Jeezus on a cracker, DAD!"
“FUCK YOU!” I spit out between closed teeth.
“Aw, why you got to be that way, son? You afraid you might like sucking on my balls?” He teases as he grinds his rock hard dick and his package on my groin. I am as nauseated as I am fighting mad, but his creepy shit-talking was not done! He leans in close and continues: "Why in the hell is your cock so fucking hard, boy. Don't worry, pretty boy. I won’t tell a soul when your sucking on my big nuts!" His rock hard cock now rubbing the head of mine tip to tip, like swords glancing off one another! With a quick move of his powerful hips Dad sends his meaty cock head spearing deep into my nut sack! UNNNNGGG!
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| His rock hard cock now rubbing the head of mine tip to tip, like swords glancing off one another! |
It had never occurred to me for an instant that my big macho, virile and masculine jock of a father might be turned on by other guys - that was impossible - "But what the fuck? No, it must just be shit talking, designed to confuse, fluster and distract me from the task at hand! Damn it was working too! FOCUS MULE!"
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| Why in the hell is your cock so fucking hard, boy? He slams his torso into mine and growls as he mashes his big smooth bag of lemon-sized nuts against mine! |
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| You afraid you might like sucking on my balls? Pop teases as he grinds his package on my groin! |
|
| Pop's rock hard cock rubs the head of my dick from tip to tip. Then with a quick move of his powerful hips, Dad sends his meaty cock head spearing deep into my nut sack! UNNNNGGG! |
He dropped his clinch and opened up some space between us as he began to cockfuck my iron-pipe hard tool. He humped and brutally pounded his big powerful fuckpole deep into the underside of my thickly veined super-cock, pushing it back against my rippling and rock hard lower abs. I used my own cock to parry, placing him off balance! I seized the opening he gave me, put both of my big paws on his muscular pecs and pushed away from me, opening up some space between us. I caught him in his rock-hard, ripped gut with a hard shot, followed by a kick to his big bull-sized balls! Pop felt that! Nothing like being kicked in the balls and punched in the stomach at the same time to get a man's attention.
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| He humped and brutally pounded his big powerful fuckpole deep into the underside of my thickly veined super-cock-- |
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| --pushing it back against my rippling and rock hard lower abs |
 |
| I used my own cock to parry, placing him off balance! |
"I’ve got these muscles I inherited from you and I know to use them, old man. Watch!” I said as I ripped my solid right fist into Pop’s muscled gut. The one generation older muscleman’s solid body shook from the power of my punch. “UUUUUUUGH” Pop moaned before my powerful left crashed into his washboard stomach. “AAAARRGH” the air exploded from his lungs!
I laugh and flexed a double-biceps pose. I placed my hands behind my head and bounced my beefy pecs and flexed my eight pack abs. I was proving beyond any doubt that my big muscles are not just for show as I worked over my old man. Pop stared and reluctantly admired the mass of flexed young muscle standing in front of him. Then Pop reached forward and slowly dragged his right fist down my cobblestone abs, feeling my muscle. Pops strained to speak: “ Well, FUCK me!" he groaned " I…. guess….my… little…boy…has…grown…up ...”
I thought to myself, "Yeah, like NO SHIT!"
Pop was still kneeling clutching his caved in abs. Fighting makes my dick hard, and seeing Pop's big boner I now know which side of the family I got that from. And to be honest, it fucking turned me on to be slugging it out with my old man. And it did the same to him. Dad's cock was as hard as mine. "Where's my manners? Let me introduce your skull to my Tibia," I chuckled as I kicked my Pop in the head with my shinbone.
Pop was still kneeling clutching his caved in abs. Fighting makes my dick hard, and seeing Pop's big boner I now know which side of the family I got that from. And to be honest, it fucking turned me on to be slugging it out with my old man. And it did the same to him. Dad's cock was as hard as mine. "Where's my manners? Let me introduce your skull to my Tibia," I chuckled as I kicked my Pop in the head with my shinbone.
Instead of following up, I let Pop climb to his feet. We are having ourselves one hell of a bare-assed, bare-knuckle fist fight, and I'm just having too much fun beating up on my old man to stop yet! We were both boned. Our twin 9" cocks were at full mast, hard as steel and saluting each other. Copious amounts of fuck- slime was oozing out of both our piss slits and dripping on the ground.
Panting and pacing around as we tried to recover, we checked each other out. Dad looked fucking awesome…sweaty and bloody..and boned to the max. His gaze back at me told me he was thinking the same thing. We turned to face each other and set our feet firmly in the dirt.
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| Pop and I traded huge haymakers, as we brawled full out! We had beaten each other's face into hamburger meat! Our blood was gushing and spattering everywhere! |
We stood toe to toe and traded roundhouse hooks to each other's lats and ribs. Both of us trash talked each other between our grunts and groans…the typical shit..you know…”C'mon cocksucker..is that all you got? Fuck you man, gonna bust you up...gonna make you my bitch...You ain't shit brah ...there's moar muscle in my left nut than in your entire body....I'm gonna throw ya down, slap on a rear naked choke, and ass rape you fucker ...!!! " All the shit you hear if you stand around and watch a fight in the parking lot of a bar on a Friday night. The sound of fists smashing into muscle filled the night air, followed by periodic grunts and groans!
My hard fists dug deep into tough Pop muscle. Signature Mule punches drove into his pecs and body, and were starting to take a toll. I was trying to set him up for a left hook to his liver, but he struck first with an uppercut to my midsection, that raised me off my feet. oooOOOFF!!!
UNNHHH!!! I grunted as I folded over holding my gut. That really hurt..I could be in big trouble here! oooOOOFF!!! UNNHHH!!!” My dad echoed back at me in mockingly, mimicking my grunt. “ I gotcha good, eh son? And I am just getting started. My turn now. I will beat you to a pulp! ”
Dad didn't give me any time to recover. "Yeah, you got some nice muscles, Mule. " Suddenly, he punches me square in the gut, doubling me over! THUD! OOF! I bend forward. Before I could straighten back up he grabs my head and pulls my face up. My Dad grabs my cheeks in one hand. He repeats: “Nice muscles, son.” Then he yells at me, "START USING THEM, BITCH
He followed this retort up by slamming his Popeye forearm into my erector spinae! As Dad's forearm slammed into my lower back, I felt like I’d been hit by a runaway train. My knees buckled, but, I managed to stay on his feet. I knew Pop would strike again in an instant. Sure enough, BOOM!!! Dad drove another massive forearm into my lower back. It was a clear demonstration that the his massive muscles were not just for show, Pop spun around securing a leg scissors around my body. "FUCK. Pop can wrestle too? DAMN!!"
With me pinned between his powerful quads, Pop reaches his big hand down, and squeezed my huge hard-on! I was so hard it hurt! Pop gave me that sexy grin and said: "Daymn, you still need it huh? You got a man-crush on me? Or or you falling for me, big guy. Whichever it is, do you want to mess around? How about we park down by the lake and make-out?"
OK, hot as he was, this was perv* level as creepy, adding to my anger and humiliation! Now I REALLY hate Dad's fucking guts. I was leaking precum like crazy and he was rubbing it all around the big head of my cock. Pop had no inhibitions about touching me anywhere. Years in a team locker room and showering with 40 other studs at a time, leaves you without any sense of personal space! Still I WAS his SON! A moment reflection, and I picked up again on the fact, that when he talked to me, he called me "Mule" "dude" and "buddy" and all. I called him Pop or Dad but he never called me, "Son." I guess that would have been awkward for the macho straight jock under the circumstances.
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| He reaches his big hand down and squeezed my huge hard-on! I was so hard it hurt! |
OK, hot as he was, this was perv* level as creepy, adding to my anger and humiliation! Now I REALLY hate Dad's fucking guts. I was leaking precum like crazy and he was rubbing it all around the big head of my cock. Pop had no inhibitions about touching me anywhere. Years in a team locker room and showering with 40 other studs at a time, leaves you without any sense of personal space! Still I WAS his SON! A moment reflection, and I picked up again on the fact, that when he talked to me, he called me "Mule" "dude" and "buddy" and all. I called him Pop or Dad but he never called me, "Son." I guess that would have been awkward for the macho straight jock under the circumstances.
"You bastard!" I said, growled back. My years with BJJ had not got to waste, while he was focused my big donger, I managed to slip out from his scissor hold, but not his cock hold!
"Yeah, but I really got you going, huh? Dude, your mouth was hanging open and you were drooling over what I got. You were practically beating your meat staring at me!" I was still doubled over in front of him. Dad mussed up my hair, like I was a cute little kid. He chuckled. Then he stopped smiling, as he clasped his huge hands together together and raises his arms high into the air. I realize he's about to deliver devastating double ax hammer to my thick upper back that will send me down to my knees in inevitable defeat. I desperately try to right myself. But before I could right himself....
BAMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!! Fuuuuuuukkkkk...
An Ivan Putski style Polish Hammer across my back smashes me down to the ground groaning. It was a 'death blow' meant to end this fight. I was lucky to have survived it. Your Mule was naked and on my knees, as Pop towered over me! "I told you I would push your shit in, Mule! " Pop laughs. My muscle-hunk super-jock Dad was taking me to the cleaners! Well, fuck. And here I was thinking he might take me to Chucky Cheese when we finished up. I guess not!
"You want to see some real man muscles, Mule?" he asked as he tightened all of the bulges and thick slabs of muscle that made-up his incredibly developed physique. His
thick neck was extremely powerful. His traps were mountains of muscle. His deltoids and arms were like a sculpture of welded-steel
strength! They were fucking massive! And those pecs! They pouted high, and rolled downward in full, broad sweeps, overhanging a narrow, cobblestone-piled torso. He danced his mammoth pecs, as he was rippling and rolling his ab muscles- a feast that my eyes could barely handle!
"You like what you see, you fucking over-sized boy-toy?" My eyes were locked on Pop's huge biceps, and I did like what I saw. Dad's biceps bulged into two huge balls of rock-hard muscle. Then he assumed a side chest pose, and his mighty chest swelled with unreal muscle power when he flexed. The cleavage of his pec valley deepened and deepened. Pop's large nipples faced the floor, their direction determined by the oversized mass of muscle pushing them downward. It was all dense and gnarly mature muscle, hard as iron. Pop was flaunting his cock and muscle!
"This is what you work your body so hard for, Son. To look this good, to have a hot muscle-stud body to show off . Especially to show it off to other muscle-dudes, who know how to really appreciate a body like ours. I know all you jock friends on the team like to flirt with each other, right? Fuck yeah, that exactly how it was when I was playing ball. All the muscle-dudes all the time in the gym and locker room and showers. All you young muscle-jocks flaunting your muscle to each other, while trying to pretend you ain't. So fucking hot! Fuck yeah, dawg!"
I drew in a deep breath and tried to fight the feelings and the boner his flexing had caused. But Pop moved so that we were standing side-by side, each with raging, dripping hard-ons sticking up into the air. What the fuck was my Dad doing. It's like he's flaunting the power that his hotness gives him but pretending he's not. It's like he's teasing me with it; as if all that sexual power were really no big deal to him, even though he is making you want him -- want your own Father!!! How fucking weird was that! We were back in the unnerving realm of Greek tragedy again, and I felt that furies would be showing up any minute to exact punishment for such perviness*!
But maybe that's not it, maybe my Pop knows exactly how much this is fucking with my head, and he's daring me to try to not get aroused; daring me, in spite of myself, not to lust after him. He is distracting me, but he is also winning, and that's what it is all about! Then it hit me STAMINA! The old fart was tiring, and he knew in a battle of attrition, the young and strong would win, and he was relying on experience and wile to wrap it up before that eventuality!
And I know, as surely as I know anything, that in spite of every sexual taboo he's also trying to seduce me, to play me for a sucker! I know it, and he knows that I know it; and, although I am resisting, he knows that it's working, and I am becoming distracted, unfocused, and flustered! What sort of kinky Jedi mind trick shit is Dad pulling? Or is this also some kinda test of his son's masculinity, so he can mock me as a sissy-boy, and assert his dominance through emasculation and humiliation!
As I was standing there, pondering shit like a chump when I should have had my head in the game, a huge knee came up and blasted a strike into my muscular core! My eyes flashed wide open from the impact. Pop hit me again and again with a series of knee strikes. Each knee strike sunk deeper into the my weakening abdominal wall than the one before it. My gut was taking a beating.
Before I stood erect again Pop dropped me with a solid right cross to my head that I didn't even see coming. BRAKK! Sweet Jebus fuck! Pop hits hard as fuck! It was a Tyson in his prime punch. I fell like a sack of potatoes.
I'm sprawled out on the ground from Pop's big haymaker. My brain had got rattled inside my thick skull. "OWW...What did Pop hit me with?... Everything is spinning ....can't think straight!"
I lay butt naked on the ground with my cocky father standing over me! "Fuck yeah," Dad gloated, hitting a power victory pose. Pop was really an incredible sight. His broad, muscled shoulders, toned and tan, glistening from a layer of sweat. He had 8-pack abs, a V-muscle around his hips, framed his powerful, thick cock that was jutting up and out, proudly; under which hung full, round, massive balls and thickly muscled thighs. I could see big wet drops of sticky precum oozing out of the piss-slit in the head of his huge dick and dripping down on my torso. He stood proudly over his downed son and struck one pose more before squatting down low. "That's what fightin' is all about, son. It didn't even take any fancy skill! I knocked your dick in the dirt with just pure raw power!"
Pop chuckled. "This is almost too easy. You're not so tough, are you, son? Your helicopter Mom raised you soft. You're just a pussy boy with muscles for show! I expected more of a challenge from you! A big, girly-man is all you are Mulely-boy! Yeah, so OK, Mule, I just handed you your ass. So now I want you to call me Daddy. Like back when you were four and KNEW who was the man of the family!" I became furious. Pop was grinning cockily as he stepped back! I heard Dad chuckle at me as he looked at my long, threatening cock pointing right at him and Pops said: "I got you going, huh boy?" We were both hard as a rock from our fight, and he was making it out to be something it was not, adding insult to injury to his patriarchal assault and battery!
I laid out flat on the ground with my chest heaving as I look up at Pop. And what an incredible sight he is. He's got one hell of a body. Every muscle is pumped up from our wrestling. His entire body covered in a thick layer of sweat. Being the total gym rat he is, he flexes his massive biceps for me to enjoy. "Oh yea look at these fucking pythons. My big guns are so hot they are making your dick leak, aren't they?” Pop is really getting into showing off. He started stroking his big cock, making sure he got it hard and ready! There was already cock-ooze dangling from the wide piss slit of his horse cock. Day-yum! "You want some of this, pussy-boy?" he taunted me as he grabbed the thick bulging base of his hefty nine-inch man-cock and continued to stroke that girthy meaty shaft.
The view of Dad's body is enough to make me want to grab my cock start beating my jock-meat, too, but I would not give in to temptation, I would show this cocky jack-wagon of a Dad! Ignoring the fact that my cock was erect, and standing proud like a flag pole, I grabbed Pop's ankles and pulled his feet out from under him. He fell back in a rolling motion to the ground! Me and Pop rolled around on the ground, in a writhing mass of flexing and bulging muscle, grappling and pressing against each other as we exchanged body blows.
"You're a mean fucker, you know that you fucking asshole UGH!...fucking mean!... AHH!.. What makes you...AHH!... so mean. Pop?" I hiss with fury between my grunting and growling as I take and give hits! Yeah, Pop was mean, but he's got the muscle to back it up! But then, so do I!
We are back on our feet as I rake Dad's eyes with my fingernails, then kick him in the nuts like I was punting a football 40 yards. His big low hanging nut sack was an easy target, and his testicles ended up in his throat. I gave him the Rock Bottom and People's Elbow. I used the 'Leg kick, take down, overhand right, good night' combo. All my best moves, that had sent many a bouncer in the North Carolina Piedmont into pained slumber followed by weeks of physical therapy to recover! Yet nothing I tried would keep this tough M'Fer staying down on the ground where he belonged! Finally I grab his arm, spun him around a few times in circle, and then used his momentum to drive him into the nearest inanimate object.
This time he stayed down long enough for me to take the top position and mount Pop. I pressed Dad's wrists to the ground and struggled to keep him pinned. I asked him if he had had enough. He told me to: "Go fuck myself," so I hocked up a good one and spit right in his face.
Dad grunted, and pushed hard showing some awesome strength. I fought to keep him pinned but his efforts eventually paid off. He shoved me off and away and started to climb to his feet. I scrambled to my feet first tho. Seeing Dad still rising, I saw an opportunity and took it. I grabbed his left arm, and after some mutual struggling, I enjoyed the thrill of hearing Dad grunt in pain as I put his left arm into a hammer lock! To escape, Pop threw an elbow back at my gut, but I was expecting it, and had flexed my abs into corrugated steel. His blow bounced off harmlessly.
“This is fun” I taunted him “But I got to admit that I never figured you for a muscle boy jobber, Dad!”
Then Pops reached back with his right hand, looking to do something about his situation. I had bend his arm up behind his back in a half-assed hammer lock. I made sure to bend it up far enough, for it to be very painful. As I held his arm firmly behind his back, I knew I had him and he knew it too.
I stood behind the my muscled Pop with my knee squarely in the Christmas Tree of his Dorian Yates thick back.
 |
| That's one thicc Dorian Yates sized back, my Pop's got! |
I dragged Dad's trapped arm up and back behind his head. Then I pulled him back against my knee still in his back. His big body began to bend like a bow. Pop's body was forced to arch back opening his expansive chest wide. I raised my Popeye forearm and smashed it down across my Dad's acre of pectoral mass.
I had Dad bound up so he could not move. The side of his chest was stretched by the maneuver and his huge pec was wide open for some power tit punching. So I delivered like the UPS. Holding Pop's arm I used my free hand to bash Dad in his chest again and again. Each of my blows centering on Pop's dark ruby red nipple. Dad writhed in agony as his son worked his body. My fist made a satisfying smack each time it made contact with my Dad's granite pectoral muscles. In a frenzy I hit Pop's pecs again and again. Dad was beyond screaming. He was delirious in a sea of burning pain. I let go of my Dad, who now unsupported fell to his back with a satisfying splat. He was struggling to regain control as he lay there spinning out with the pain.
Giving him no time to recover, I dropped to my knees next to his pain-wracked body. Dad's body was ablaze with pain. His energy was being sapped by my brutal onslaught to his physique. I looked at the long battered body stretched out on the ground, defenseless. I looked at Dad's glistening body, the muscles taught across the ribcage. I almost drooled at the thought of pounding Dad's body even more. Just thinking about having Pop helpless and in my complete control made my cock as hard as an iron pipe.
I clenched both my hands together, raised them above Pop's helpless chest, my arms stretched back as far as I could for maximum wind up! I paused to admire the chest I was about to crush, and then violently moved my hands down in a double power punch across the spread-eagled form before me. Sweat splashed everywhere as my blow landed. It was a beautiful combination of Ivan Putski's Polish Hammer and Ox Baker's Heart Punch. Pop screamed. Dad's muscular chest compressed beneath my fists, air and spit exploded out his mouth, as my blow forced the air from his lungs. His body bounced on the ground, his upper body convulsed upwards with pain. I opened my hand and slapped Dad's massive pecs. Each open hand slap making his chest redder, and the man more helpless. His chest was afire with pain.
Then I stood up, only to leap high in the air, and come down with all my weight and muscle behind my elbow as it landed across the massive chest, driving deep into Dad's twin peaks of pectoral muscle. Pop convulsed once and lay still.
I paused and looked down at the prone body. Pop was still conscious, but flat on his back, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. Even in this helpless position, he looked like dynamite. His whole body, from his muscled arms to his expanded chest, his large cock, and his well defined legs, were glistening with sweat, and glowing red from the beating he had been given. His deep chest was highlighted because of the position of his arms, which forced his rib-cage to rise. His stomach was rising as he breathed heavily.
The hard nipples crowning each of his massive pecs were a dark red, and almost bleeding from the punishment I had given his chest. His diamond-hard cock was stiff as a board and looked like a flag pole sticking out from his groin. The weight of both of his heavy semen-filled balls stretched his big scrotum so that his testicles were lying on the ground in the loose fitting sack.
I let my old man slowly struggle back to his feet. "Daymn, I can't believe that fucking goddamn old muscle stud has taken my best shots and is still able to stand up! My muscle man Pop is actually giving me a run for my money! What's it going to take to stop...." BAAAAAAMMMMMM!
I don't finish my thought because my temple is met by Dad's big fist with a 'SMACK' as loud as a cannon shot. The punch clocks me square in the side of my head. "BOOM! HEADSHOT!!" Dad yells. My eyes are glazed over, and my head wobbly, but I am still on my feet! I shake my head clear and then split in Dad's face!
Then Pop punched me hard in my lower abdomen, targeting a couple of inches below my belly button, and landing his anvil sized fist on the last two abs, of my eight pack. I'm doubled over as Dad then follows me in to deliver a big European uppercut to my head. As my head flies back, his sledgehammer of a fist drove to my heavily muscled gut again, and doubled me over again. A big clubbing forearm across my thick upper back keeps me from immediately straightening back up. Taking advantage of my bent over position, Dad locks my head in a front chancery, holding me bent over, as he drives a huge knee lift, powered by his bodybuilder, quads into my thick muscular core, knocking the wind out of me.
Three successive knee lifts to my muscular core ensured that I remain bent over. Then Dad's forearm slammed into my lower back. I felt like I’d been hit by a runaway train. My knees buckled, but, I managed to stay on his feet. I knew Pop would strike again in an instant. Sure enough, BOOM!!! Dad drove another massive forearm into my lower back.
Then Dad squatted down and lifted me in a overhead press. "Holy shit!" I exclaimed, as my weight was lifted, and held high above my Dad's head. Not many men had the strength to manhandle a man my size like this, but apparently my Pop was one of them! He was tossing my 260 lbs of football jock muscle around, like I was a rag doll. With my muscular body being held aloft by my equally muscular father, my huge arms and legs dangled uselessly in the air.
Then Dad squatted down and lifted me in a overhead press. "Holy shit!" I exclaimed, as my weight was lifted, and held high above my Dad's head. Not many men had the strength to manhandle a man my size like this, but apparently my Pop was one of them! He was tossing my 260 lbs of football jock muscle around, like I was a rag doll. With my muscular body being held aloft by my equally muscular father, my huge arms and legs dangled uselessly in the air.
Then Dad power-slammed me down, bringing me across his outstretched rock solid knee in a devastating over-the-knee backbreaker! BAMMMM!!! KEEERAAAKT!!!
"AHHGHHHHH!!!!!" I yelled out in pain. It felt like he had broken my back. I groan in pain. "Gawd, that fucking hurt!" I hang bent almost in half on his 29' upper quad, groaning in pain.
"Oh damn, this is bad." I moan loudly when I feel Pop move his fist deep into my rippling stomach, then opening up his fingers to tactility explore the damage he had wrought!
“Look at these cobblestones you got for abs!” Dad exclaimed, as he used his free hand to feel my thick abdominal muscles. "They’re fuckin’ HUGE!" he commented. "You got a solid set of rippling abs dude. I think these are another genetic gift from me. What do you think?
"My abs stand up to the battering of every muscleman at my gym, football team, buff bar brawler, and jacked bouncer, cuckolded husband, and any other fool, who dares to trade gut punches with me. No matter how big or tough they thought they were, every one ends up doubled-over at my feet! You think your abs are as hard as mine, chief??" --he asked me while loudly slapping his own rock hard and shredded abdominal wall. "Let's find out" Dad says as he a drove an surprise elbow drop deep into my gut!
"Oooffffffff!!!" I moan as all the air is emptied from my lungs by the devastating blow to my diaphragm. Pop rolled my limp body off his thick quad, and onto the ground, and then stood up. I curled up on the ground in a fetal position, clutching my stomach.
"Geezus fuck! I can barely ....catch my... breath! ....What did he hit me with?......This is the oddest dick measuring contest I’ve ever seen, Oh OK, so you are just as big and as muscular as I am. Sheessshhhh! Take a chill pill, dude. At least I know where I got my bad temper from...Day-yum!" I think as I scramble back to my feet.
Dad slipped behind me as I stood unsteadily on my feet. pressed his huge package against my jock muscle-butt. His big hands firmly gripped my hips and squeezed them tightly. Before I could react, Dad wrapped his arms around my waist and executed a German suplex, sending his son back and crashing to the ground! I groaned on the ground, legs spread wide and back arched. Dad wasn't about to let the opportunity to bully his son get away. He strutted over and casually dropped his knee into my chest.
"Unh!! F...Fuck..." I moaned. Your Mule knew that my dad was a tough wrestler, but...Fuuuuuuucccckkkkkk......this was some next level shit.
"You ain't up against some drunk college boy meathead in a bar this time, kid! You're up against a MAN now!" Pop laughed, pulling me to my feet and twisting my arm behind my back in an arm bar as he does. "Get up, boy. I ain't quite finished with you yet!" I obediently rose, groaning and grunting in pain. There was no sugar coating it: My Pop was kicking my ass. I wobbled slightly and struggled to put on a tough face. "Last quarter, I'm running out of time to turn this around and pull a win out my ass," I'm thinking.
I tense my muscled core, my bare muscles rippled, and my mountainous ass tightened. My abs flexed, as I fire my right leg up towards Dad's jaw. The brutal head kick sends Pop spinning completely around, but he manages to steady himself.
Dad pulls his back his right arm, but its a fake, and instead fires his left elbow out toward my nose, but I show my speed by blocking Pop's arm with my own, and smashing my right knee up into Dad's lower pair muscled abs, right above his cock. Pop grunts as his body is rocked. I grab both of Dad's wrists, and use my muscles to slowly open up Dad's mid section and I bring my muscled thigh up to drive my right knee up and into Pop's muscled stomach again. My Dad is used to dominating his opponents. From the look of shock on Dad's face, my skill level is clearly a step above his usual opponents.
With the massive monster opened up, I was able to slam my fist into his exposed eight-pac. THUD! The impact left my Dad wide open, for a barrage of my fists that staggered him. POW! THUD! THWAK! Then I connected with one mighty roundhouse gut punch that caved in his iron abs, Pop doubled over, collapsed onto the ground, his massive arms clutching his stomach. Pop looked like he had been blind-sided by the entire Defensive Line. He was groaning and moaning like he had never been punched that hard before. And he probably hadn't been!
I was standing over Pop. I was out of breath, my huge chest and rippling abs heaving for air. I looked down at my groaning Dad. I spit in his face and yelled: "This is it, Dad. I’ve been waiting for this a long time. I'm gonna give you the beating you deserve. Pop!!”
"You got big balls to pull that shit on me, I got to give you that, bro. But you can kiss those balls goodbye, bruh. Cuz I'm gonna rip your f'ing balls off and slap you to death with them!" I was hoping that was hyperbole, but from what I had seen from Pop so far, he might just mean it. Seriously!
I dodge Dad's incoming punch, letting him fly past me. Then I pivot back, behind him,and rope my arms under Dad's arm pits and muscle him into a full nelson, my cock grinding into the muscled cheeks of Pop's ass. Dad's muscled body, glistening with sweat, is fully exposed for a few seconds so I send two knee strikes up into his lower back. Pop's grunts, and his face is turning red in anger at my dominant and showy move. Dad struggles to break out of my full nelson. "Where you think you're going, Pops?" I taunt with a chuckle.
I clamped down even harder with my full nelson, lifting Dad off the ground. Locking my hands behind Pop’s neck, I poured every ounce of my considerable upper body strength into the hold. I used the combined force of my pecs, biceps, forearms, and hands to make Dad feel as though his neck was breaking. He could feel my pecs bearing into this back and could feel my sweat dripping down his wide back. The pain from my full nelson had to be incredible. Pop wouldn't be able to stand that much pain for long. Instinctively, Dad twisted and turned, trying vainly to escape my hold. When Pop stopped struggling, I knew the crafty brawler was about to try something sneaky. I made sure I was ready for anything the mofo pulled out his ass.
Dad peaks all his muscles, before he drops his chin to his deep pec valley, then fires his head backwards in an attempt to break my nose and my hold. I dodge the head head, then torque my nelson putting pressure on his shoulder joints hard enough to dislocate his arms! Dad screams as pain shoots through his upper body. Then I release him and shove him forward.
Dad turns. I had my hands formed into fists as I jogged in place like a boxer, pumping blood to my thick legs. My long thick cock flopped up and down as I jogged. On every upswing, the fat slab of man meat slapped hard against my washboard abs with a loud THWACKKK! Dad stood tall facing me, not moving and just watching me. Then he moved his hand up and started to slowly stroking his hard, leaking cock while bouncing his pecs. The mushroom head of his monster shaft seemed even bigger now to me; it flared and reddened as it leaked precum in a thin strand to the ground below. Dad's balls were churning for sure. "I was gonna take it easy on ya. But now I am gonna make you open that pretty mouth of yours and lick these big bull balls of mine, phaggot!" Daddy taunted, clearly enjoying waggling his impressive cock and his bag of lemon sized balls in front of his son's face. “Is that right?” I ask with a smirk. "And who are you calling a phaggot, phaggot?" I growl.
Dad charges me, and when he steps up and into my body, putting his arm between my leg and shoulder under my crotch, and lifts me up into the air. " FUCK!!! A Fucking 'roid rage gorilla toss! Where the fuckity-fuck did he learn how to do that???" I curse in my pain clouded thoughts. Dad slams me into the ground. The air explodes from my lungs and my long fat cock slaps against my rippling eight pack abs. I look up to see Dad leaping in the air and falling towards me, attempting a frog splash. I manage to lift my knee and Dad grunts loud as fuck as my knee connects with his rock solid abs, but my move doesn't stop gravity from making Dad land on top of me. Dad quickly slides up my slick torso to his knees and mounts my heaving chest. My bull cock is hard as fuck as my muscled Pop mounts me.
"You fight like a girl, BITCH! Now open up that pretty mouth of yours and suck my nuts, " Dad taunts, while his head rolls back and his hand starts stroking his horse-cock, as his over-sized balls dangle mere inches from my face. "I bet my balls would fit in yer eye sockets perfect. They may bunch up a little around the cheek but still..we should try it!" Dad said. Fuck if he didn't sound serious about doing it.
"Fuck You!" I snarl back between closed teeth.
“Aw. Don't be like that, Mule. I won’t tell a soul-I promise. Open up big guy!” He swings his huge low-hanging balls closer and closer to my mouth. He mashes his shaved smooth, super-sized bag of nuts against my closed lips: “You afraid you might like sucking on your father's big balls, Mule?” His giant rock hard dick is dribbling precum all over my face as he grinds his huge package in my face. The impressive weight of Pop's heavy nuts stretches his smooth scrotum until it is laying on my tightly closed mouth.
He looked at me, grinning. "Want some of this?" He asked, rubbing his abs slowly for me, then his pecs. There was cock-ooze dangling from the tip of his dick. "I Said, Do You want some of this, pussy-boy?" He asked taunting me. "Yeah, you do, don't you?"
Pop knew I was a hormonal college athlete at my sexual peak; my testosterone and adrenaline levels were through the roof pretty much 24/7. It had nothing to do with being straight or gay. Your body has instincts you just can't control, and boners pop up pretty damn easy. It wasn't any big deal; all young jocks understood that's just the way it was. Dad understood it too, only being the mutherfucking SOB he was, he was going to use it to his advantage.
He reaches over and begins running his hands appreciatively over my body as if it was totally natural. his hand wanders over my muscles, stroking my defined lats, pecs, and abs. "Really nice cuts, Mule. So damn hot." Pop muscle-worshiped me. He wants me to feel the pleasure of having my hard-cut muscle being worshiped by another hot dude. My Dad's mind clearly worked in very twisted ways, I am glad that was some of his genetics, that I didn't inherit!
"I was a football jock and a gym rat too Mule. I know what it is to 'muscle-flirt' - to show off your muscle and cock to other dudes with hot bodies, show off to dudes, who know how to really appreciate a body like yours. That sausage fest of 40 big swinging jock cock and acres of ripped and jacked young athletic muscle inside the locker room. All hot dudes on a sports team like to muscle flirt with each other all the time in the gym and locker room and showers. A bunch of hormonal athletes in the prime your lives; your testosterone and adrenaline levels off the scale. Your horny 24/7 and will fuck anything with a pulse. On the field, in the weight room, you have uninhibited body contact with other muscular jocks like yourself. Your body has instincts you just can't control. You walk around boned up hard every fucking day. It has nothing to do with being straight or gay. But you dudes flaunt your muscle to each other all the time, while trying to pretend you ain't. It's so fucking hot! Fucking hell, dawg."
“What you think about this, old man!?” I sneered. I suddenly lifted my arms from my sides and flashed an impressive double bicep, sweat glistening off my peaked upper arms and in the crevice between my pecs under the overhead lights. "Worship this, you fucking closet case," I thought. Showing off my awesome physique and huge hard tool. "You want something to lust over and worship, Muscle - Mary. Try this..."
"Like this, Pop? I'm a Pure American Muscle-Jock. Handsome as fuck and a lusciously ripped hard body. I bet an older muscle-stud like you gets off on a beautiful, superbly defined young jock. Check out all this naked muscle, with my long thick and delectable cock curving down," I said. "LOOK AT ME, you fucking sperm-guzzler! Look at a seriously cut, big-dicked, muscle-stud, with a firm, bubble muscle ass! Look at your Fucking big-dicked stud of a son! Come on, Pop. Go ahead, worship my hot body and huge cock, You know you want to. Just do it! It will be so damn hot to flaunt our hot muscle to each other. Check out this hot-jock eye candy. I can see the hunger in your eyes when you looks at my buff body! How often have I caught you checking out my package tonight, Pop! You know what seeing all my worked,young football-stud muscle flex and ripple is doing to you!
"But the joke's on you, Pops. I ain't gay. I like pussy too much to be a homo! I will admit I have let sperm-guzzlers like you suck me off, and I have fucked guys, lots of them to be honest. But that was simply cuz fucking men is in a league of its own. It makes my dick feel great- and that is the bottom line. Of course, sometimes I prefer a beautiful-bodied babe between my legs, but as far as sport-fucking, guys have the edge! I can use them as hard and as raw and as much as I want, I don't have to give a moment's thought to their comfort or --shudder-- feelings. I can do things to a dude that would get me arrested if I did them to a chick. Even the possibilities of it gets me going, and gets me all worked up. Totally dominating another alpha male brings out the animal in me. Yeah, I admit it: I love fucking and dominating massive dudes who are even thicker and bigger than I am. Totally a control thing, it's fun to turn the tables on them and make them my bitches! Nothing is hotter to me than pounding the fuck out of some big muscle stud and hearing him whimper and moan and groan with every thrust while he eats that pillow! Yep, I love that! Fuck Yeah!!! Nothing is hotter, that's for sure! Fucking another Dude is all about the domination factor!
My initial urge to roundhouse punch Dad in the face and then twist his head off was overcome by an urge to feel his arm still resting on my left trap. I brought both hands up and felt the lean hardness of his superman arm. He made the muscle slowly flex. He tightened his bicep into a huge ball of granite. My fingers squeezed the rock. "FUCK! Pop had tricked me into worshiping his muscle AGAIN! ARRRGGGGGHHHHH! Triple Daymn!!!" I pushed his arm off my shoulder and yelled: "Take Your FUCKKKING hands off me, COCKSUCKER!!!!"
Pop and I are standing nose to nose again, glaring and panting. Suddenly Dad fires a gut punch into my iron hard abs with his equally iron hard fist, but I was able to flex my abs into a rock hard wall of muscle inches before his fist landed. To psych him out, I yell "Harder, Pop! I can take it!" fully confident in my invincible rock hard abs being able to take anything Pop can throw.
Pop smirks and obliges, driving his fist into my abs with more force that makes me step back a step. "Fuck, Yeah!" I scream, telling him do it again even harder. This time I feel it, expelling air and spit out my mouth and grunting with pain as my 'invincible' abs buckle and break. I regret my earlier boast that I can take it, as the Pop's fist makes me a liar by folding me in half. I am impaled by Pop's big fist buried deep in my gut and grunt like a silverback ape. Whoa good fucking punch, I think. It is all I can do just to straighten back up. I have to break it off and retreat, my abs can't take another shot from Pop like that one.
I walk around keeping my distance as I am stretching and flexing out my abs. Instead of following up, Pop watches, grinning having made me eat my own smack talk. Hubris, I got to do something about that.
"I guess its time I teach you a little lesson, pal!" was Pops only response to me. Dad stretched out his arms and shoulders. He stretched out his chest and filled his lungs with air. He suddenly appeared even more huge and substantial. When he cracked his knuckles and smiled. I knew something bad was about to happen!
"I sense a lot of conflict and confusion in you, Mule! I feel it's my duty as a father, to help understand those feelings..."
"What da fuk was that? Was I hit by a train?" I mumble as I hold my aching head. I got my shit pushed in, whatever it was.
"I call that the Blitzkrieg, Mule!" My Pop tells me. He's standing right in from of me looking down at me with his huge arms folded across his massive chest. He must have good ears. I'm just surprised that the 'roided up lunkhead knows that much about history.
"Mmm K, thxs" I replied. Yeah, I really got my shit pushed in. I guess he thought he had put me down for good. "Well, his over-confidence is going to be his undoing this time. He don't consider me a threat anymore, and his rusty football instincts don't realize that while I look like I am trying to get off all fours, I am actually putting my body into a classic three-point stance."
Suddenly, I put the petal to the medal and lunge forward, catching the ex-pro flat footed. My target was his right knee, the one that ended his pro football career due to a torn meniscus and a unsuccessful attempt at surgical repair. There is a reason why clipping is illegal in football. The scream from my Pop, as I hit his knee laterally, was proof that it should be. He is still cursing and bent over holding his knee as I moved in behind him.
I followed up with a series of hard kidney punches to Dad's wide and brawny lower back. THUD! THUD! THUD! Pop made gurgling noises, every time I slammed my fist into his kidney. Dad spun around and when he did I brought my knee up hard into his groin, doubling him over. WHOMP! OOF! I gave him a European uppercut driving him back up. Three times in a row, I plowed my fist into his gut, bending him over, then straightened him back up with the European uppercut. WHAM! CRACK! WHAM! CRACK! WHAM! CRACK! His mouth and nose were bleeding, his eyes were rolling in opposite directions. and he was reeling from my punches! I gave him a one-two combination to the chin, and he went down like a sack of potatoes. SMACK! WHACK! ... THUD! I kicked him hard in the gut just for good measure when he hit the ground.
"Maybe you can help me come up with some fancy name for the shit I just did to you, huh Pops? 'Blitzkrieg' sounds cool as fuck, but it's already taken. Besides I want something that sounds more 'merican! Maybe something catchy like 'Buzzing the Tower'? Whatca think, Dad?" As I was throwing out my suggestion for consideration, I pushed down on the ex-NFL linebacker's wide muscled back with my bare foot, hold the big man down!
I reached down and began to drag Pop up by his luscious gray and blond locks. "Huh, I had thought that mop of his was a wig to be honest. Looks I got some good hair genes to go along with my big dick and big muscles. There is no visit from the Norwood Reaper in my future. Yeah!"
My intention was to put Dad in a headlock, and then run him headfirst into the nearest solid surface, as soon as I got him up. Unfortunately, this time I was the one that had gotten overconfident. I had managed to catch off-guard, but Pop's steroid infused bodybuilder muscle was even stronger than I thought.
Suddenly, pain shot through my gut - through my whole body in fact! My 'roid raging ex-jock father had slugged me in my bull sized nut sack. God it hurt!!!!! I feel him put his hands on my chest, too, as I arch over and grab my nuts to relieve the pain. "Good one, Pop!" I groaned. Pain was shooting up from my testicles and ripping into my gut, but Pop and I both know, that a blow to the nads gets worse after impact ... as I felt it doing now ... growing into white hot, breath-killing, body-wracking agony. My muscles shudder. My head and arms shake and I let out a scream that echoed through the night air! AAAHHHRRRHHH! Muther-FUCKing.... AAAAAAHHHHHRRRRRRRRHHHH!!!!"
I was still being held up by my Dad's two big paws on my pecs. The pain from my nuts was unbelievable. I had taken hits to the nads many times before. You learn to take hits to the sack when you're a jock. But fuck, this was a whole 'nother level of ball bashed pain. It felt like he had cracked my jumbo eggs. My eyes were watering it was hurting so bad. I was about to vomit. "Fuck Pop, stay off my balls if you ever want grand-kids," I warned him through gritted teeth while clutching my nuts in pain.
Dad's response was to drop his right hand, suddenly wrapping it around the my balls and squeezed hard. My goose-egg sized testicles scraped together in Pop's grip. Dad began to crush my testicles with greater force. His forearm rippled with blood vessels. His bulging veins fueled his thick arm muscles with power--power that began to bring incredible pain to my gonads. I began to jerk back and forth but Pop squeezed even harder. His powerful fingers were wrapped around my steel balls like a vise grip as Pop began to ground my balls. Dad's steel fingers squeezed and squeezed.
Only occasionally did Dad loosen his grip, but just to re-position his hand for another pulverizing crush to my testicles. My stiff cock began to turn a dark purple color. Dad's grip around the base of my pussy-driller had cut off the blood to my dick and was keeping the blood already in my boner trapped in there. Instead of going limp from the pain, Dad's grip was working like a cock ring to keep me hard. So hard it was making my dick hurt. "I guess Dad is not all that interested in grandkids," I think through the haze of agony!
The grinding, crushing grip intensified and Dad's hand compacted my semen-filled gonads. He was trying to the flatten my balls and force the cum out of me. Dad s ball claw was vicious. My knees began to quiver, and seconds later my legs sagged as my hands clutched Dad’s wrists. “Fuuuuu... Oh God… AHHHH!!!"
Dad flexed his sweaty hand crushed my testicles savagely for full minute. I squirmed my body attempting to retreat from the source of pain, while I struggled to pry Pop's hand away. Dad was determined to crush my testicles and twist my man sack. When Dad finally released my nuts, I clutched my balls protectively, with my mouth hanging open dumbly, as I struggled to unclench every muscle in my body and inhale again.
Despite me fiercely clutching my balls with both hands, Dad plowed his knee hard into the backs of my hands, crushing my balls underneath! The pain made my lungs seize up for nearly half a minute. I coughed violently, and struggle to get air. I realized with relief that my balls were still intact. Once again my steel balls had taken a lickin' but kept on tickin'.
When my coughing fit subsided, Dad and I were just standing there close to each other. Just two powerful naked bodybuilders breathing heavily. With our muscles bulging from the fight, make that two hulking bodybuilders. Veins popped, flesh stretched and muscles pumped. Two absolute beasts! Two alpha-males in a battle for supremacy.
"So I'm supposed to lay off your balls because of grandchildren? Well I just showed you how I feel about that!" Dad bellowed right in my face. "Like a MuscleFag is going to give me any grandkids! Hah! What a f''ing joke of a way to subtle-beg for mercy! I should have just squeezed until your balls popped. I was less than two minutes away from castrating you, bitch! You're one bull that I would love making into a steer."
I was out of it. I could hear his words, but my brain wasn't processing them. I realized that Dad was backing off, and letting me stand on my own. But then through my mind fog, I hear him a few feet from me. He was snorting and pawing like a bull, then..... BAAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM! ... he charges from 10 yards away, building momentum until his head butts me right in the gut. His big gorilla sized noggin went ears deep into my belly, my rock hard abs collapse like a castle door being hit by at battering ram. I fold in half while his head was still in my intestines.
Helpless now, Pop easily throws me down to the ground! WHAMMMMM!!! He slaps me in an MMA rear naked choke. "UHHHHHGGG. NOOOOO!!!!" He is on my back and has the mount. He cranks my already injured neck with his choke hold. His attack was relentless, brutal, and merciless. Two generations of muscle gods had struggled with everything they had to overpower each other, and we seemed to finally have a victor. Pop had taken me to school and given me a class on how a muscleman destroys another muscleman! "I can slide my cock into your hot ass now, buddy! Seriously, I could butt rape you right now if I wanted and you couldn't do a thing to to stop me!" Pop whispered in my ear, chillingly.
I felt the tip of Dad's cock lightly touch my ass. But he didn't try to get it inside me right away. Instead, he used his cock to play: slide the hot dog around in the bun, with the hard-muscled globes of my ass! Then, he started to tease the entrance to my hole with short, but firm pokes in between some long strokes.
"You're sexy as fuck! Wanna be my girlfriend, cutie?" Dad continued, at least he laughed a little when he said it. “You made me work for your ass, 'straight' boy. I’ll give you that, stud!” He emphasized the word straight, implying that he thought I was anything but. "Just wait until you've got a man's dick up inside of you, a man's arms wrapped around you, and a man's strength taking you and owning you. Then you'll really know what you like."
I had been dominated like this, only once before in my two decades, and that had also been by an older man, Coach Chesnick, back in High School, which my faith readers, may recall!
Then Pop released his rear naked choke and shoved me to the ground, hard. "Get up, dude, and walk it off. Take as long as you need. Me and you ain't finished yet!"
One last round. One last chance to redeem myself. The Bear Hug. The definitive test of two men's power. Two muscle-men used to being able to out-muscle almost anyone, now putting it on the line as each will try to dominate the other.
Dad and I stepped forward, locking our bodies together in a mutual bear hug. He pressed his rock-hard body into mine, grinding our huge pecs, our muscular bellies, and our swollen crotches together. I grunted again as I felt my rib cage bending inward from his crushing arms. I gave my armor plate abs a protective flex. I push forward and ram my big chest into his. My thick beefy chest tightly presses into Dad's, huge powerful pecs to huge powerful pecs. I rub our pecs back and forth until our nipples harden and then spike. Then our now steel hard nips meet in a pec fight, pushing into each other, trying to invert the other's nipples.
Pop growled, ratcheting up the intensity of his hold while grinding his horse-sized cock harder into my over- sized package. “Yeah, boy – do you feel that? I will be using my big stud cock on Krystal again tonight. She loves my big cock! Krystal said I'm the best dick she's ever had. She sure doesn't have any doubts that I'm 100% man! Sorry I can't say she feels the same about you...” He taunted, hitting in me in my pride, and growing insecurities, a blow crueler than a groin shot!
Dad cinched his bearhug even tighter on me, driving our thick chests and erect nipples together, which caused me to grimace and toss my head back, groaning in pain. "AHHHHHH!!! You're breaking my back!" I groaned. Pop smiled as he looked at me, enjoying the anguished expression of the rival muscleman he was crushing against his equally muscular body.
I squeezed Dad harder in return with my equally muscular and equally strong rock-hard bulging biceps. Now we were both flexing our cannonball bi's into the other’s ribs. OOOOORRRRGGGHHHHHH!! GGRRRUUHHHHUHHHHH!!! We grunted and groaned, each determine to break the others ribs, even as we felt our own rib cages being compressed painfully and dangerously. Two bodybuilders with our intertwined massive bodies dripping with sweat while grinding those heavily muscled bodies together.
It was instantly clear, that Pop had been to this rodeo many times. I possess a good bearhug, but Dad's bearhug was a freak'in work of art. The dude was a fucking master of the front bearhug hold. The secret was that Pop squeezed his victims not only with his massive biceps, but also with his powerful pecs. As a result, the victims were squeezed from all directions. He had applied the hold so tightly, I doubted anyone ever escaped once he hold locked it on. I truly felt like prey in a python’s crushing vise grip. And like a boa constrictor, Dad methodically and relentlessly tightened his grip – rippling his muscles like a snake – each time I exhaled. So tight was Dad’s hold that I could feel the nipples on Pop’s pecs and the veins in his biceps burning into me. But I was a top tier athlete, a genetic freak in the prime of my life, and my excellent physical conditioning was keeping me conscious, even in Pop's astounding bearhug!
I wasn't about ultimately about being tough, but about how long I could keep it up, before I passed out! Fearing that possibility fueled my comeback! I suddenly constricted every super strong muscle in my massive upper body – from abs to neck – in one giant squeeze. Pop's eyes flew open in shock, and he let out a yell, as he felt his ribs cracking, and pain shot throughout his entire body! Now Dad had experienced the power of my bearhug, and knew he had a true bearhug fight on his hands! Grappler Dan had taught me well, painfully well!
Our true bodybuilder muscleguts inflated and deflated against each other, whenever we were able to suck in some air. Our cocks were trapped between us. We could feel powerful abdominal muscles pushing against our cocks. Our sweaty, muscular stomachs slid on and caressed our trapped boners! We were being masturbated by our own bodybuilder bellies!
Me and Pops, both groaned involuntarily from the overwhelming erotic stimulation we experienced. Precum dribbled out of our piss slits. "This is turning you on, isn't it, Mule?" Pop grunted. "Admit that you're enjoying rubbing boners and bodies with me!"
My old man's hard on was as solid and strong as a teenager's boner, and was every bit a match for mine. Dad began to grind on me. He rubbed his deeply ridged set of eight pac abs against mine. I could feel his thick horse cock rubbing against my donger. Pop was trying to turn me on. And he was succeeding! His grinding had me lusting for him. He rubbed his heavy muscled pecs against my beefy pecs as he ground his boner into mine. We were humping our sweaty naked bodies together!
Suddenly I had a flash back to when I was a freshman and attended my first football training camp. The hazing of the newbies by the vets was legendary. It was all to increase the bonding between the jocks, but like with the old Roman Gladiators, them was a sexual aspect to the male bonding.
FLASHBACK TO MY FRESHMAN FOOTBALL HAZING!
One of the most closely guarded secret hazing rituals was called simply 'The Frot'. It was simple enough. A rookie gets paired up with a Vet and gets frotted. Yeah, that's right: actual, factual, real deal, no-girls-allowed, sex between naked men, rubbing penises together.
https://www.urbandictionary.com/define Frot
Now I had dry humped chicks and done my share of grinding on the dance floor, but I was a novice at Frot. But this Frot had a twist, it was between two team mates, both big studly jock football players. And the Frot took place in the locker room with 40 something other team mates watching and cheering like it was a bro brawl among rivals at a bar. Except for the beating off, of course. I was the biggest frosh so I got picked to Frot with JaMarcus, a bit stud Vet. So, yeah, with an audience clanting "FROT, FROT, FROT, FROT, FROT......!!!" I had my load rubbed out of me by JaMarcus. At least no pictures were allowed!
But it sure worked. When this rite of passage was over, JaMarcus and I were bonded closer than brothers. We ended up rooming together in the Athletic dorm for the rest of the year!
But then my mind snapped back to the present!
"Gawd, Dad's body is so hot. and sexy! Fuck how did that thought sneak into my brain! It must have been from thinking about JaMarcus." I groaned as I pressed my ripped torso and groin against my father's. One does tend, despite oneself, to catch some feels for a older strong, virile male, who is trying to dominate you physically, Coach Chesnick had taught me that! But what of Creepy, Pervy Dad, he seemed all hot for me, or maybe I was just projecting, to excuse my own disturbing thoughts! Maybe it was him simply being horned from the adrenaline rush of dominating another man!
His cock was hard as steel, so he clearly was horned as well, whatever the motivation, as the paternal donger ground together with that of his son's. I was trying to remember that this sexy musclegod that I wanted so bad was my father, and nip these feelings in the bud! But I was too far gone into a horny haze, for that now. My cock had taken control of my body. Pop moaned erotically. He'd always loved a man-on-man cock fight, but with his own son was something even more incredible, especially as he thought he was winning, and ever the competitor, and jealous of his son's youth, he was relishing a win!
I growled hungrily as I savored the warmth of the muscle man against me. The tightness of the contact, the moistness of our sweat aroused me to a frenzy. Moving my hips in short fucking motions, I forced my rigid meat into Dad's cock with the force of a runaway piston engine.
Dad returned the assault! Spreading his body builder thighs ever wider and digging his toes into the ground, Pop thrust back harder. I fought to free myself, certain that I couldn't stand any more, but I was totally unable to stop the relentless punishment to my cock that he was delivering.
I was on fire, the burn searing his thoughts to cinders as I couldn't stop the strangled groans that vibrated in my throat. I was being driven mad by my Dad's cockfight prowess, by the physical force he was using to pin me in place, by the knowledge that Pop was determined to make me his love sick puppy, just as Coach Chesnick once had done! But I had emerged ultimately victorious from that encounter, and I could again, if only I could feel a surge of vigor and vitality again, and shake this enervation! Was the fact that this was my Dad, and all these conflicting feelings hold me back from such a resurgence? This is precisely WHY, I hate them feels! Regardless of what I hoped to happen, our cocks began to throb. Our huge bodies strained and every magnificent muscle rippled. We felt a boiling in our balls and felt the cum rise from our nuts up our thick meat poles. We were both desperately trying not to cum first, but neither could delay much longer what was about to happen!
I held on tight to the the big, tanned, hard, muscle-man' body of my Dad! All Pop could do was to grunt in agony as his brawny physique writhed in my muscular arms that kept Dad tightly wrapped up!
But the pleasure also began to mount. After a few minutes of both musclemen rubbing our swords together our huge cocks submitted to each other. Our minds were lost to the waves of pain and pleasure! Within seconds, bursts of hot, milky jizz began spewing out of our thick cocks and onto chest and abs.
Dad bellowed like a bull in heat as he was seized by the acute intensity of his own orgasm. His seething, hot, chiseled muscles surged and rippled! His teeth clenched and he began to growl. He yelled out loud. "Ohhhhhhh. Ohhhhhh!" His cock danced as it pulsed and his mega super-sized body began to empty its semen into the space between us. The mountain of muscle erupted like a volcano.
I blew my load in the exact same second. I winced at my first few ejaculations. Then my huge, muscular body tightened. Muscle after muscle rippled as my body convulsed with the most powerful orgasm I had had in a long time. My oversize cock let loose with a loud, hard round of shots. I let out a strained moans -- almost a yell, but it was stifled by the intensity of the seizure that intensified with each jerking ejaculation of my cum. Pop and I had cum in loads as big as a six-man frat bros circle jerk!
Dad grinned as he watched me burn with a combination of lust and shame. We held each other tightly and pushed our muscled torsos closer. The deep ridges of our eight-pack abs and the deep V of our Adonis belts, acted as cum gutters to drain the jizz away from our muscular bodies.
"Oh shit man. THAT was totally over the edge," Pop grunted. Just like it had happened during the hazing Frot with JaMarcus, I was catching some very un-son like feels for Pop.
Pop was a spent force. He was drained of energy, strength and of testosterone. Finally my youthfulness was going to make a difference. My young muscles could recover in a flash. I was finally recharging. I was at my sexual peak and the cum factory between my legs pumped out new product as fast as I drew down on the inventory. Dad may be a stud in bed for his age, but he is still a two pump chump, while I routinely cum 8 times a night with multiple sluts. Pop is still down on the ground and gasping for air and unable to stand up, while it was obvious from my easy breathing that my superbly conditioned young muscle-jock body was not a bit tired or winded.
His age was really showing now! His soft cock hung longer and his balls hung lower than mine, but I have noticed that on the old dudes that hang around naked in gyms, and I attributed to the effect of the theory of gravity making things sag after a couple of decades. Women's breasts do the same after 40. In contrast, despite the earlier beating, I had taken, I looked MAGNIFICENT, in the prime of my muscular youth, and my joystick and balls, were no exception!
Time to show this over-the-hill pretender, that it was GAME ON! No mercy for the Popsicle, it was GO HAM! Go"hard as a motherfucker"!
HAM: URBAN DICTIONARY
Now Pop's ass was grass, and I was the lawnmower. I kicked my big body builder leg up, connecting my size 14 bare foot with the softened-up washboard abs of my Dad. THUD! OOF! Pop’s midsection folded and he dropped to his knees, head down and ass up as he coughed. Man, for a dude of any age, Pop had a beaut of a rock hard, chiseled set of worked out glutes. His muscle ass look like it had been sculpted from solid marble. Pop was still showing how much a stud he was, as he fought through the pain and slowly started to engage in hand-to-hand combat with me yet again. But he didn't have much gas left in his tank, I made sure Dad stayed off-balance with a skilled combination of kicks and punches. I pounded Pop's midsection from just above the base of his exposed cock to just below his pecs until his whole torso was bright red. Dad tightened his abs for protection but I just hit harder so my brutal fists broke through his muscle wall. POW! THUD! POW! Pop turned around and charged again. He missed again. I noticed that as Pop tired, his fighting style went from skilled boxer and martial artist to beefy brawler. He was wild. Careless. Clumsy.
I was standing over Pop. I was out of breath, my huge chest and rippling abs heaving for air. I looked down at my groaning Dad, praying that he didn't get back up. What I had just dished out on Pop wasn't just a muscle beat down--- it had been a slaughter!! I had dished out the punishment, and had worked him over until he was bloody, beaten pulp. My Dad was shocked by my strength and my viciousness. "Payback's a bii-atch, muthafucker!" A curious expression given the circumstance, as he had LITERALLY fucked my mother to produce ME!
But Pop's fists had done plenty of damage to me. Each and every punch he had thrown into my muscle-packed body, had felt like it was loaded with dynamite!! He had made his point. He was every bit as strong and as powerful as me. Maybe even stronger!
I looked down at my powerful athlete-father, who was collapsed into a pile of muscle at my bare feet. Dad was drenched in sweat, nothing moving except for his massive heaving chest, and rapidly inflating and deflating musclegut. Pop was exhausted, I had brought him closer to defeat than anyone before.
Pop couldn't even rise to his feet. And I didn't give a shit. I was still determined to squeeze the life out of him even if we had to finish the bearhug on our knees.
Pop's He-man body is still weak from the first bearhug and forced ejaculation. “Please...!” Is all Dad can mutter, as I wrap my heavily muscled arms around his waist, and lock my fist into his lower back. All of this in preparation, as begin to intensify my devastating bear hug! I am enjoying every painful moment that I am inflicting on Pop.
Pop has trained hard since a teenager, developing a rock-solid physique with massive muscles that feel more like cast iron. But with each flex of my own massive arms, I am coming closer to crushing to defeat, my Dad's muscleman body! Each deep breath I take causes my big chest to expand, increasing the pressure on my Dad's already badly damaged frame. The combined effect from the two consecutive bearhug battles, has brought Pop nearer to defeat than he had ever experienced! My powerful arms are compressing his sculptured 54" chest forcing him to struggle for even the slightest hint of oxygen! His own set of firm, finely crafted ab muscles are being forced to press hard against an unyielding mass of rock-solid power, as I flex and strain with all my muscle power!
My body is compressed so tightly against Pop's massive chest that he can feel the vibration of my voice even before he hears it! “Shit, Dad! I just figured with a great body like yours, and all those years of playing sports and brawling, you would be a little harder to beat! I mean, we're about the same size, and yet I wiped up the floor with you, despite all your muscle and fighting skill! Hell, all it's gonna take is one more good flex from these 22" guns of mine, and I’ll snap your muscle-bound body in two. I mean, DAMN! I can break your back and crush your ribs, and nothin' you can do about it! Feel your bones breaking? I am squeezing the life out of you!!”
“OK, Dad, you worked your little boy over pretty good. there's no denying that! You just kept pouring on the pain. Fuck, I got my shit pushed in... big time, just like you promised! But you still haven't kicked my ass." I let what had just said to him sunk in. You're a mean, strong mutherfuker. But take a long look at this body of mine, Dad. I can take care of myself. I’ve got these muscles I got from your genes, and I know how to use them.
"Watch!” I told him, as I raised my big arms out to my sides in a slow, powerful arc, eventually planting my hands behind my neck. I began flexing my powerful top tier college athlete body. I slowly exhaled and the skin covering my abs dissolved into nothing, leaving only two columns of river rock, each individual stone a master work of perfection. Muscles bulged and bunched against each other; then as I slowly twisted my hips and upper body, they expanded and rolled. Facing forward, I put my hands on his hips, moved one leg slightly in front of the other and flexed it. Ropes of muscles hardened into deeply cut valleys and peaks of muscle. My leg size was off the scale, each one easily larger than the diameter of my waist. I was a football jock, but I knew I had a better body than any of the so-called bodybuilders that hung out at the local gyms.
"Your muscles... your muscles are huge ...as big as mine," he mumbled.
Just one more thing I had to do. Time for the new bull to take out the old bull. Time for the this has-been, past his expiration date old muscle-stud to pass the torch to he next generation. Something I still had to do to prove I was the real man in the family now!
I grabbed Pop's head with both my hands. And then I squeezed. As hard as I could. My biceps bulged to incredible size and veins the size of garden hoses popped out in my arms! Dad crawled at my hands and kicked his feet, but my grip was unbreakable. It was like when the Mountain crushed Prince Oberyn's head like a melon on Game of Thrones.
Dad screamed. I continued to squeeze. It was like his head was in a vise that was closing. Blood began to come out of his ears. He had a brain bleed. He went limp. He was unconscious. In about 30 seconds there would be a loud CRAAAAKKK!!!! and his skull would crack open like a coconut! And then I could eat the gray matter of his brain for the protein. But instead, I released my grip. Pop fell down seemingly lifelessly! Just in case, I took the pocket mirror I carry to all my fights for just this purpose, and held it under his nose. The mirror fogged up, so he was still alive. I had sort of mixed feeling about that to be honest. He was definitely comatose though. He probably gonna need to a CT scan and something done about that concussion and brain bleed. They will probably have to shave his head and drill some holes in his skull to relieve the pressure on his brain. I snickered, when I thought how the vain asshole was gonna take going bald for a few weeks. He probably lost a few IQ points from that concussion, but with the 20 or more concussions he had from playing football, for all those years, a few less brain cells weren't a biggie. Pop wasn't all that bright anyway. I just left him there, naked and beaten into a bloody pulp, for one of the joggers to find when the sun came up.
I took one last look at Pop's laying there, squashed like a bug when it hits a car windshield. He was still dead to the world. "You know Dad..." I said even tho' I knew he couldn't hear me "I didn't give a shit about you fucking that slut Krystal. All I ever wanted you to do was to take me out for ice cream, Daddy!" Ice cream did sound good though, and it was then, that I realized how famished I was!
I went to iHop and had the all you can eat breakfast on the way home 'cuz I was hungry as fuck. I didn't give even give my Dad another thought, as I was busy slathering syrup on pancakes and eating a plate of bacon the size of my head.
A half hour later I lay in bed in my dorm room and stroking my big cock thinking about the fight. As I slowly stroked my long horse-sized cock my mind created erotic fantasies while I spanked my meat. I threw off the bed covers and grabbed my cock.
My cock was so hard it hurt. "Damn, Pop!" I reflected in confusion! I thought I had won and beaten him, but now I think he won, too. I wanted to beat him again and dominate him. I wanted so much to make him my bitch. But DAYUM, I now wanted his fucking big Dad cock against mine again. I wanted to make him whimper and beg, while I forced every drop of cum out of his massive bull balls. I began to have unnervingly pervy thoughts of my Dad, naked, under me! I wanted him sexually. That was weird random thoughts to have, which somehow made it even pervier and hotter. I still didn't know why Dad had been trying to get me so hot for him. Surely he knew I couldn't have him that way.
And the truth is, he had made me hot for him, which was weird as fuck. I won't lie! Not to my loyal readers! My Dad was hot as fuck, and as I lay in bed stroking my cock, I thought about us doing each other. It took a a couple of weeks before I finally managed to settle down, and put those thoughts out of my mind, but those feelings were real while they lasted!
My massive man meat throbbed upright as I stroked it, pretending that it was Dad's cock and not my hand edging me. I muttered, "This one's for you, Pop." I used one hand to massage my nipples, and the other to masturbate my pulsating muscle meat. I closed my eyes and worked myself up into an erotic frenzy. With firm, strong strokes from my powerful hand, I jacked myself off re-living the erotic fight with my Dad. I masturbated like I was trying to make the cut at Team USA's national jerkoff trials. It was so intense that I beat my meat and nutted three more times before I finally fell asleep.
But my hot fantasies didn't stop even when I fell asleep. I started to dream about me and Pop.
Krystal was rubbing and feeling up my 29" steel hard rippling quads as he whispered something in my ear. Krystal wants to see what these big legs of mine can do. With that, I quickly maneuvered Dad into a standing scissors head-lock hold. Pop tried every move he knew to prevent the hold. But even though he knew what was coming, he was unable to stop it. I was simply too powerful!
My gargantuan legs wrapped around Pop's head. I flexed my 29" quads. Dad's hands were on my quads, trying to push them away. But my legs were massive trunks of human rock. Dad began to feel the boulder-hard striations my huge leg muscles, as I began to tighten my hold. My legs grew and hardened into the biggest vise grips on earth. With unrelenting force, my legs tightened their grip even more. The pain to Dad's head was excruciating. Pop pounded my quads with his fists, but he couldn't even make a dent in the steel-hard muscles. I was enjoying the big man's ineffective efforts to break loose of my hold. Still my powerful legs squeezed. He was suffering now. Dad groaned.
I heard the next day that a groundskeeper picking up trash found a naked muscleman unconscious, and badly beaten on the practice field at dawn. The police thought he had been curb stomped and robbed by a gang of thugs. Really big and strong thugs, thought the cop, when he saw the size of the victim. Pops did have an concussion with brain swelling, but they didn't have to shave his head and drill holes in his skull, unfortunately. I would have loved to have a pic of that. He was in a coma for two weeks. My Granny made me send flowers to the hospital because, well, that's what civilized people do. My Dad didn't have any hard feeling towards me. "Win some, lose some ... as soon as I am discharged, how about we hit the town, we can grab some drinks, pound some vag and flex for the bitches..." And we did! No permanent damage done. And yeah, Pop was a lousy father, but he was great to have as a wingman to pick up sluts, a gym buddy always down to lift, and as extra muscle to have your back in a bar fight.
So Pop and I didn't get a chance to do the double-penetration thing with Krystal that night, as much fun as that sounded. What with Dad being in a coma and all. But we got our chance to DP when we went bird hunting in Argentina two months later. It was a great time with plenty of male bonding. And Dad picked up the tab since I was a broke-ass college kid. One night we headed into town (a collection of shacks and bars passes for a town in this part of the world). There was a whore whose services he had used on previous hunts. Pop said she would be down for anything, if the price was right. And what Dad had in mind, is some father and son bonding, DP style. Double-Penetration, that is. "One in the pink and one in the stink" as its called when your talking pussy with the boys. It's when two guys have their penises in a girl's ass and pussy at the same time. There is usually a lot of ball bumping (two men's nuts rubbing together) as the woman is penetrated anally & vaginally by 2 men at the same time. In other words: Two dicks in one chick!
I was expecting a whore like the $20 for a blow job meth-head crack-whores back home. B ut instead she was a highly-evolved and really hot looking slut. I've long ago forgot her name, if I ever knew it, but I just call her the Argentine whore.
It was a good time. “Now the fun begins. Mule, are you ready to fuck her DP?” Pop asked. I was more than ready. Dad crawled onto the bed, and he lay on his back pulling the Argentine whore on top of him, and inserted his long thick dick balls deep into her ass with one thrust of his powerful hips. Argentine whore looked a little nervous, as she looked at two big blond bodybuilders, 250 lbs of solid rippling muscle each, and both hung like horses. But she performed like a champ. We were wasting no time here. I got into my position and entered her pussy with my thick cock, making her gasp. Pop and me each slowly found a rhythm. I could actually feel his shaft rubbing against mine. Odd sensation. It almost felt like Pop was fucking me on his upward strokes LOL. And then both being the competitive fucks that all good athletes are, we started racing and trying to out fuck each other. Argentine whore, a good sport, got the fucking of her life as me and Dad were tossing her around like a ragdoll. Ten minutes in we were both giving it all we had, and whenever one of us would slow down, the other would coax him back up to speed, through brutal humiliation.
Yeah, Pop and I shared a lot of adventures like that over the next few years, usually on hunting trips. A fave was deer hunting. The hunting stand was in a pretty remote area. To deal with the boredom at night, after a morning of hunting and an afternoon of napping, Dad liked to ride to this redneck bar on his Harley. I would ride the bitch seat and quite a few beers would be consumed.
Anyway, lots of other experiences with Pop, but I won't go into all of those since many of them are probably illegal in most countries. We would "hunt" together several times a year. But as luck would have it, a seven years ago Dad knocked up his then live-in playboy pinup. Nothing like being near Social Security age and having a kid, LOL. Suddenly I was a brother, well, at least a half brother. Turns out Pop is a great father, well, at least to this kid. Spends all his time doing shit with the kid. I think his baby-mama may have had Dad spayed and neutered when the child was born, to be honest! Whatever the reason, Pop has finally been tamed.
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'07 Spring Break Adventures
Dad slipped behind me as I stood unsteadily on my feet. pressed his huge package against my jock muscle-butt. His big hands firmly gripped my hips and squeezed them tightly. Before I could react, Dad wrapped his arms around my waist and executed a German suplex, sending his son back and crashing to the ground! I groaned on the ground, legs spread wide and back arched. Dad wasn't about to let the opportunity to bully his son get away. He strutted over and casually dropped his knee into my chest.
"Unh!! F...Fuck..." I moaned. Your Mule knew that my dad was a tough wrestler, but...Fuuuuuuucccckkkkkk......this was some next level shit.
"You ain't up against some drunk college boy meathead in a bar this time, kid! You're up against a MAN now!" Pop laughed, pulling me to my feet and twisting my arm behind my back in an arm bar as he does. "Get up, boy. I ain't quite finished with you yet!" I obediently rose, groaning and grunting in pain. There was no sugar coating it: My Pop was kicking my ass. I wobbled slightly and struggled to put on a tough face. "Last quarter, I'm running out of time to turn this around and pull a win out my ass," I'm thinking.
I tense my muscled core, my bare muscles rippled, and my mountainous ass tightened. My abs flexed, as I fire my right leg up towards Dad's jaw. The brutal head kick sends Pop spinning completely around, but he manages to steady himself.
Dad pulls his back his right arm, but its a fake, and instead fires his left elbow out toward my nose, but I show my speed by blocking Pop's arm with my own, and smashing my right knee up into Dad's lower pair muscled abs, right above his cock. Pop grunts as his body is rocked. I grab both of Dad's wrists, and use my muscles to slowly open up Dad's mid section and I bring my muscled thigh up to drive my right knee up and into Pop's muscled stomach again. My Dad is used to dominating his opponents. From the look of shock on Dad's face, my skill level is clearly a step above his usual opponents.
With the massive monster opened up, I was able to slam my fist into his exposed eight-pac. THUD! The impact left my Dad wide open, for a barrage of my fists that staggered him. POW! THUD! THWAK! Then I connected with one mighty roundhouse gut punch that caved in his iron abs, Pop doubled over, collapsed onto the ground, his massive arms clutching his stomach. Pop looked like he had been blind-sided by the entire Defensive Line. He was groaning and moaning like he had never been punched that hard before. And he probably hadn't been!
I was standing over Pop. I was out of breath, my huge chest and rippling abs heaving for air. I looked down at my groaning Dad. I spit in his face and yelled: "This is it, Dad. I’ve been waiting for this a long time. I'm gonna give you the beating you deserve. Pop!!”
"You got big balls to pull that shit on me, I got to give you that, bro. But you can kiss those balls goodbye, bruh. Cuz I'm gonna rip your f'ing balls off and slap you to death with them!" I was hoping that was hyperbole, but from what I had seen from Pop so far, he might just mean it. Seriously!
I dodge Dad's incoming punch, letting him fly past me. Then I pivot back, behind him,and rope my arms under Dad's arm pits and muscle him into a full nelson, my cock grinding into the muscled cheeks of Pop's ass. Dad's muscled body, glistening with sweat, is fully exposed for a few seconds so I send two knee strikes up into his lower back. Pop's grunts, and his face is turning red in anger at my dominant and showy move. Dad struggles to break out of my full nelson. "Where you think you're going, Pops?" I taunt with a chuckle.
I clamped down even harder with my full nelson, lifting Dad off the ground. Locking my hands behind Pop’s neck, I poured every ounce of my considerable upper body strength into the hold. I used the combined force of my pecs, biceps, forearms, and hands to make Dad feel as though his neck was breaking. He could feel my pecs bearing into this back and could feel my sweat dripping down his wide back. The pain from my full nelson had to be incredible. Pop wouldn't be able to stand that much pain for long. Instinctively, Dad twisted and turned, trying vainly to escape my hold. When Pop stopped struggling, I knew the crafty brawler was about to try something sneaky. I made sure I was ready for anything the mofo pulled out his ass.
Dad peaks all his muscles, before he drops his chin to his deep pec valley, then fires his head backwards in an attempt to break my nose and my hold. I dodge the head head, then torque my nelson putting pressure on his shoulder joints hard enough to dislocate his arms! Dad screams as pain shoots through his upper body. Then I release him and shove him forward.
Dad turns. I had my hands formed into fists as I jogged in place like a boxer, pumping blood to my thick legs. My long thick cock flopped up and down as I jogged. On every upswing, the fat slab of man meat slapped hard against my washboard abs with a loud THWACKKK! Dad stood tall facing me, not moving and just watching me. Then he moved his hand up and started to slowly stroking his hard, leaking cock while bouncing his pecs. The mushroom head of his monster shaft seemed even bigger now to me; it flared and reddened as it leaked precum in a thin strand to the ground below. Dad's balls were churning for sure. "I was gonna take it easy on ya. But now I am gonna make you open that pretty mouth of yours and lick these big bull balls of mine, phaggot!" Daddy taunted, clearly enjoying waggling his impressive cock and his bag of lemon sized balls in front of his son's face. “Is that right?” I ask with a smirk. "And who are you calling a phaggot, phaggot?" I growl.
Dad charges me, and when he steps up and into my body, putting his arm between my leg and shoulder under my crotch, and lifts me up into the air. " FUCK!!! A Fucking 'roid rage gorilla toss! Where the fuckity-fuck did he learn how to do that???" I curse in my pain clouded thoughts. Dad slams me into the ground. The air explodes from my lungs and my long fat cock slaps against my rippling eight pack abs. I look up to see Dad leaping in the air and falling towards me, attempting a frog splash. I manage to lift my knee and Dad grunts loud as fuck as my knee connects with his rock solid abs, but my move doesn't stop gravity from making Dad land on top of me. Dad quickly slides up my slick torso to his knees and mounts my heaving chest. My bull cock is hard as fuck as my muscled Pop mounts me.
"You fight like a girl, BITCH! Now open up that pretty mouth of yours and suck my nuts, " Dad taunts, while his head rolls back and his hand starts stroking his horse-cock, as his over-sized balls dangle mere inches from my face. "I bet my balls would fit in yer eye sockets perfect. They may bunch up a little around the cheek but still..we should try it!" Dad said. Fuck if he didn't sound serious about doing it.
"Fuck You!" I snarl back between closed teeth.
“Aw. Don't be like that, Mule. I won’t tell a soul-I promise. Open up big guy!” He swings his huge low-hanging balls closer and closer to my mouth. He mashes his shaved smooth, super-sized bag of nuts against my closed lips: “You afraid you might like sucking on your father's big balls, Mule?” His giant rock hard dick is dribbling precum all over my face as he grinds his huge package in my face. The impressive weight of Pop's heavy nuts stretches his smooth scrotum until it is laying on my tightly closed mouth.
Pinned under my top Pop and in the bottom position, I reach my arms up and put my hands on his massive biceps, and try to pull him off me. Being the total gym rat he is, he instinctively flexes his arms for me, and that is all it takes. I feel the sheer size and density of his flexed guns and my cock goes diamond hard. I instinctively start jacking my throbbing cock. Yeah, I know it sounds perv* as fuck, but like most times, my cock has a mind of its own. “Shoot it boy,” the muscle stud sitting on my chest eggs me on: “Oh yea look at these fucking pythons.” He flexes and pops his biceps for me. “My big guns are are hot aren’t they? Just keep looking at these muscles while you are jacking of, like a good little phaggot! ”
perv: Definition: Slang for pervert: To act as, or like a sexual pervert, esp. to look at someone lustfully or pruriently -- verb: gaze lustfully or lecherously. UrbanDictionary.com CF: Pervy, the quality of being a perv, perviness: the state of being a perv!
"You're mine, bitch! There's only room for ONE stud in the family," Dad gloated, pointing his thumbs at himself. "And you're gonna be seein' a LOT more of him from now on!" Dad growls, fully absorbed in hurting and dominating his enemy in the heat of battle. We weren't father and son, we were just two muscled alphas working out dominance.
perv: Definition: Slang for pervert: To act as, or like a sexual pervert, esp. to look at someone lustfully or pruriently -- verb: gaze lustfully or lecherously. UrbanDictionary.com CF: Pervy, the quality of being a perv, perviness: the state of being a perv!
"You're mine, bitch! There's only room for ONE stud in the family," Dad gloated, pointing his thumbs at himself. "And you're gonna be seein' a LOT more of him from now on!" Dad growls, fully absorbed in hurting and dominating his enemy in the heat of battle. We weren't father and son, we were just two muscled alphas working out dominance.
He looked at me, grinning. "Want some of this?" He asked, rubbing his abs slowly for me, then his pecs. There was cock-ooze dangling from the tip of his dick. "I Said, Do You want some of this, pussy-boy?" He asked taunting me. "Yeah, you do, don't you?"
Pop knew I was a hormonal college athlete at my sexual peak; my testosterone and adrenaline levels were through the roof pretty much 24/7. It had nothing to do with being straight or gay. Your body has instincts you just can't control, and boners pop up pretty damn easy. It wasn't any big deal; all young jocks understood that's just the way it was. Dad understood it too, only being the mutherfucking SOB he was, he was going to use it to his advantage.
He reaches over and begins running his hands appreciatively over my body as if it was totally natural. his hand wanders over my muscles, stroking my defined lats, pecs, and abs. "Really nice cuts, Mule. So damn hot." Pop muscle-worshiped me. He wants me to feel the pleasure of having my hard-cut muscle being worshiped by another hot dude. My Dad's mind clearly worked in very twisted ways, I am glad that was some of his genetics, that I didn't inherit!
"You have such a hot fucking body, dude!" I groaned. "O fuck, I just said my old man was 'hot'! My libido was churning and my clouded brain totally forgot this hot muscleman was my Father and it just slipped out. Maybe he missed it," I hoped. All I know now is the aggressive passion of two horned-up muscle-studs. The older hot muscleman seductively worships my cock and muscle horning me up!"
"I was a football jock and a gym rat too Mule. I know what it is to 'muscle-flirt' - to show off your muscle and cock to other dudes with hot bodies, show off to dudes, who know how to really appreciate a body like yours. That sausage fest of 40 big swinging jock cock and acres of ripped and jacked young athletic muscle inside the locker room. All hot dudes on a sports team like to muscle flirt with each other all the time in the gym and locker room and showers. A bunch of hormonal athletes in the prime your lives; your testosterone and adrenaline levels off the scale. Your horny 24/7 and will fuck anything with a pulse. On the field, in the weight room, you have uninhibited body contact with other muscular jocks like yourself. Your body has instincts you just can't control. You walk around boned up hard every fucking day. It has nothing to do with being straight or gay. But you dudes flaunt your muscle to each other all the time, while trying to pretend you ain't. It's so fucking hot! Fucking hell, dawg."
"SHADDUP, SHADDUP, SHADDUP!" I thought, silently willing him to cease and desist his pervy mind games! "How many times can you say 'hot' in one paragraph, you over-the-hill Fudge- packer?" I try to focus and get my hormones under control. But Pop wasn't letting up! In fact, he was turning up the heat! At least my heat. "Double-Daymn! No one had turned me on this hard since those game-day sessions under the bleachers with cheerleader 'Pass-Around' Brown back in High School!"
Dad kept grinning at me in a sexy, knowing way, that said he knew he was turning me on sexually and "What was I going to do about it?" Pop stood erect and ran his hands over his solid pecs, down over his abs, then pressed his fists into the sides of his waist and flared his lats in a classic bodybuilder pose. His body was awesome. "Being muscle worshiped is art, dude, just look at this!” He raised his arms and flexed his biceps. “You gotta admit, Mule, these biceps of mine are fucking beau-ti-ful! See how hard they're making your dick! Just look at the size of your boner right now, Mule. Your cock is a fucking flag pole!"
"Come-on....Look at your Dad's muscles Mule! Don't let that beautiful boner of yours go to waste, man. Don't you want to rub one out while you feel them?" A low moan escaped from my parted lips, betraying the intense feelings running thru me. Pop was getting to me. He had my body turned on and my motor running -it was like I was making out with a hot chick. Two Herculean hunks standing there, breathing heavily and glaring at each other's magnificent bodies, both aching with desire. My head was spinning from the hot as fuck frenzy of body-worship. Pop seemed determined to flip me, to turn me queer. My manhood was hanging by a threat, but it looks like Pops had gone over that edge, a long time ago! I thought about Ms. Kaismier, my 7th grade geography teacher, and her huge breasts that I had jacked off over at least 3x a day in post-puberty days to feel hetro again. My head began to clear.
“What you think about this, old man!?” I sneered. I suddenly lifted my arms from my sides and flashed an impressive double bicep, sweat glistening off my peaked upper arms and in the crevice between my pecs under the overhead lights. "Worship this, you fucking closet case," I thought. Showing off my awesome physique and huge hard tool. "You want something to lust over and worship, Muscle - Mary. Try this..."
"Like this, Pop? I'm a Pure American Muscle-Jock. Handsome as fuck and a lusciously ripped hard body. I bet an older muscle-stud like you gets off on a beautiful, superbly defined young jock. Check out all this naked muscle, with my long thick and delectable cock curving down," I said. "LOOK AT ME, you fucking sperm-guzzler! Look at a seriously cut, big-dicked, muscle-stud, with a firm, bubble muscle ass! Look at your Fucking big-dicked stud of a son! Come on, Pop. Go ahead, worship my hot body and huge cock, You know you want to. Just do it! It will be so damn hot to flaunt our hot muscle to each other. Check out this hot-jock eye candy. I can see the hunger in your eyes when you looks at my buff body! How often have I caught you checking out my package tonight, Pop! You know what seeing all my worked,young football-stud muscle flex and ripple is doing to you!
"But the joke's on you, Pops. I ain't gay. I like pussy too much to be a homo! I will admit I have let sperm-guzzlers like you suck me off, and I have fucked guys, lots of them to be honest. But that was simply cuz fucking men is in a league of its own. It makes my dick feel great- and that is the bottom line. Of course, sometimes I prefer a beautiful-bodied babe between my legs, but as far as sport-fucking, guys have the edge! I can use them as hard and as raw and as much as I want, I don't have to give a moment's thought to their comfort or --shudder-- feelings. I can do things to a dude that would get me arrested if I did them to a chick. Even the possibilities of it gets me going, and gets me all worked up. Totally dominating another alpha male brings out the animal in me. Yeah, I admit it: I love fucking and dominating massive dudes who are even thicker and bigger than I am. Totally a control thing, it's fun to turn the tables on them and make them my bitches! Nothing is hotter to me than pounding the fuck out of some big muscle stud and hearing him whimper and moan and groan with every thrust while he eats that pillow! Yep, I love that! Fuck Yeah!!! Nothing is hotter, that's for sure! Fucking another Dude is all about the domination factor!
"Well thanks for sharing that with me, Mule." Dad puts one of his big paws on my shoulder, just like Andy of Mayberry used to do with Opie. "So you not gay, but you like fucking dudes... Got it. Seems like you got it all worked out...Except that when Krystal and I were talking during our breaks from fucking like animals, she told me how much you like it when she pegs you in the ass with her 10-inch black rubber strap-on dildo ....that don't sound so straight to me..."Pop teased.
"Huh?!! But it was her birthday and... wait, she told you about that???...it ain't what it sounds like...it was her birthday...and, and, and......uh...oh jeeez .." I fumbled over my words. I was rattled and it showed.
"Huh?!! But it was her birthday and... wait, she told you about that???...it ain't what it sounds like...it was her birthday...and, and, and......uh...oh jeeez .." I fumbled over my words. I was rattled and it showed.
My initial urge to roundhouse punch Dad in the face and then twist his head off was overcome by an urge to feel his arm still resting on my left trap. I brought both hands up and felt the lean hardness of his superman arm. He made the muscle slowly flex. He tightened his bicep into a huge ball of granite. My fingers squeezed the rock. "FUCK! Pop had tricked me into worshiping his muscle AGAIN! ARRRGGGGGHHHHH! Triple Daymn!!!" I pushed his arm off my shoulder and yelled: "Take Your FUCKKKING hands off me, COCKSUCKER!!!!"
Pop and I are standing nose to nose again, glaring and panting. Suddenly Dad fires a gut punch into my iron hard abs with his equally iron hard fist, but I was able to flex my abs into a rock hard wall of muscle inches before his fist landed. To psych him out, I yell "Harder, Pop! I can take it!" fully confident in my invincible rock hard abs being able to take anything Pop can throw.
Pop smirks and obliges, driving his fist into my abs with more force that makes me step back a step. "Fuck, Yeah!" I scream, telling him do it again even harder. This time I feel it, expelling air and spit out my mouth and grunting with pain as my 'invincible' abs buckle and break. I regret my earlier boast that I can take it, as the Pop's fist makes me a liar by folding me in half. I am impaled by Pop's big fist buried deep in my gut and grunt like a silverback ape. Whoa good fucking punch, I think. It is all I can do just to straighten back up. I have to break it off and retreat, my abs can't take another shot from Pop like that one.
I walk around keeping my distance as I am stretching and flexing out my abs. Instead of following up, Pop watches, grinning having made me eat my own smack talk. Hubris, I got to do something about that.
"I guess its time I teach you a little lesson, pal!" was Pops only response to me. Dad stretched out his arms and shoulders. He stretched out his chest and filled his lungs with air. He suddenly appeared even more huge and substantial. When he cracked his knuckles and smiled. I knew something bad was about to happen!
"I sense a lot of conflict and confusion in you, Mule! I feel it's my duty as a father, to help understand those feelings..."
The powerful muscleman unleashed a barrage of fists to my body and face. THUD! POW! WHACK! SMACK! KAPOW! THWAK! WHOMP! I was barely able to stand as he was relentlessly torn apart by my Dad's increasingly powerful fists. I tried to defend myself, but it was no use. Pop was not giving me any chance to recover or go on offense. POW! THWAK! WHOMP! THUD! WHACK! My torso was ruthlessly hammered by Pop's steroid-enhanced punches! BAAAAMMMM! Pop punches me straight in my face with his right fist! He busts my nose and blood is pouring out of my nostrils and down on my my chest! BOOOOOOMMMM! Pop upper cuts me under my jaw!!! I stumble back glassy eyed. I got a whiplash from the uppercut...suddenly, I see movement in front of me. Pop jumps high in the air. I forgot he played basketball in High School. He still has at least a 30 inch vertical....WOOOOMPHHH! I don't even finish my thought as Dad smashes his elbow into the top of my skull! Hard enough to compress the C-7 cervical vertebra in my neck, and both of my arms go numb. He's put me down to all fours.
 |
| What da fuk was that? Was I hit by a train? That was harder than any hit I have ever taken on the football field, by far! |
 |
| I call that the Blitzkrieg, Mule! Because its like a bombing run on your ass! |
"What da fuk was that? Was I hit by a train?" I mumble as I hold my aching head. I got my shit pushed in, whatever it was.
"I call that the Blitzkrieg, Mule!" My Pop tells me. He's standing right in from of me looking down at me with his huge arms folded across his massive chest. He must have good ears. I'm just surprised that the 'roided up lunkhead knows that much about history.
"Mmm K, thxs" I replied. Yeah, I really got my shit pushed in. I guess he thought he had put me down for good. "Well, his over-confidence is going to be his undoing this time. He don't consider me a threat anymore, and his rusty football instincts don't realize that while I look like I am trying to get off all fours, I am actually putting my body into a classic three-point stance."
Suddenly, I put the petal to the medal and lunge forward, catching the ex-pro flat footed. My target was his right knee, the one that ended his pro football career due to a torn meniscus and a unsuccessful attempt at surgical repair. There is a reason why clipping is illegal in football. The scream from my Pop, as I hit his knee laterally, was proof that it should be. He is still cursing and bent over holding his knee as I moved in behind him.
I followed up with a series of hard kidney punches to Dad's wide and brawny lower back. THUD! THUD! THUD! Pop made gurgling noises, every time I slammed my fist into his kidney. Dad spun around and when he did I brought my knee up hard into his groin, doubling him over. WHOMP! OOF! I gave him a European uppercut driving him back up. Three times in a row, I plowed my fist into his gut, bending him over, then straightened him back up with the European uppercut. WHAM! CRACK! WHAM! CRACK! WHAM! CRACK! His mouth and nose were bleeding, his eyes were rolling in opposite directions. and he was reeling from my punches! I gave him a one-two combination to the chin, and he went down like a sack of potatoes. SMACK! WHACK! ... THUD! I kicked him hard in the gut just for good measure when he hit the ground.
"Maybe you can help me come up with some fancy name for the shit I just did to you, huh Pops? 'Blitzkrieg' sounds cool as fuck, but it's already taken. Besides I want something that sounds more 'merican! Maybe something catchy like 'Buzzing the Tower'? Whatca think, Dad?" As I was throwing out my suggestion for consideration, I pushed down on the ex-NFL linebacker's wide muscled back with my bare foot, hold the big man down!
I reached down and began to drag Pop up by his luscious gray and blond locks. "Huh, I had thought that mop of his was a wig to be honest. Looks I got some good hair genes to go along with my big dick and big muscles. There is no visit from the Norwood Reaper in my future. Yeah!"
My intention was to put Dad in a headlock, and then run him headfirst into the nearest solid surface, as soon as I got him up. Unfortunately, this time I was the one that had gotten overconfident. I had managed to catch off-guard, but Pop's steroid infused bodybuilder muscle was even stronger than I thought.
Suddenly, pain shot through my gut - through my whole body in fact! My 'roid raging ex-jock father had slugged me in my bull sized nut sack. God it hurt!!!!! I feel him put his hands on my chest, too, as I arch over and grab my nuts to relieve the pain. "Good one, Pop!" I groaned. Pain was shooting up from my testicles and ripping into my gut, but Pop and I both know, that a blow to the nads gets worse after impact ... as I felt it doing now ... growing into white hot, breath-killing, body-wracking agony. My muscles shudder. My head and arms shake and I let out a scream that echoed through the night air! AAAHHHRRRHHH! Muther-FUCKing.... AAAAAAHHHHHRRRRRRRRHHHH!!!!"
I was still being held up by my Dad's two big paws on my pecs. The pain from my nuts was unbelievable. I had taken hits to the nads many times before. You learn to take hits to the sack when you're a jock. But fuck, this was a whole 'nother level of ball bashed pain. It felt like he had cracked my jumbo eggs. My eyes were watering it was hurting so bad. I was about to vomit. "Fuck Pop, stay off my balls if you ever want grand-kids," I warned him through gritted teeth while clutching my nuts in pain.
Dad's response was to drop his right hand, suddenly wrapping it around the my balls and squeezed hard. My goose-egg sized testicles scraped together in Pop's grip. Dad began to crush my testicles with greater force. His forearm rippled with blood vessels. His bulging veins fueled his thick arm muscles with power--power that began to bring incredible pain to my gonads. I began to jerk back and forth but Pop squeezed even harder. His powerful fingers were wrapped around my steel balls like a vise grip as Pop began to ground my balls. Dad's steel fingers squeezed and squeezed.
 |
| Pop squeezed even harder. His powerful fingers were wrapped around my steel balls like a vise! He was trying to ground my balls into mush! |
Only occasionally did Dad loosen his grip, but just to re-position his hand for another pulverizing crush to my testicles. My stiff cock began to turn a dark purple color. Dad's grip around the base of my pussy-driller had cut off the blood to my dick and was keeping the blood already in my boner trapped in there. Instead of going limp from the pain, Dad's grip was working like a cock ring to keep me hard. So hard it was making my dick hurt. "I guess Dad is not all that interested in grandkids," I think through the haze of agony!
The grinding, crushing grip intensified and Dad's hand compacted my semen-filled gonads. He was trying to the flatten my balls and force the cum out of me. Dad s ball claw was vicious. My knees began to quiver, and seconds later my legs sagged as my hands clutched Dad’s wrists. “Fuuuuu... Oh God… AHHHH!!!"
Dad flexed his sweaty hand crushed my testicles savagely for full minute. I squirmed my body attempting to retreat from the source of pain, while I struggled to pry Pop's hand away. Dad was determined to crush my testicles and twist my man sack. When Dad finally released my nuts, I clutched my balls protectively, with my mouth hanging open dumbly, as I struggled to unclench every muscle in my body and inhale again.
Despite me fiercely clutching my balls with both hands, Dad plowed his knee hard into the backs of my hands, crushing my balls underneath! The pain made my lungs seize up for nearly half a minute. I coughed violently, and struggle to get air. I realized with relief that my balls were still intact. Once again my steel balls had taken a lickin' but kept on tickin'.
When my coughing fit subsided, Dad and I were just standing there close to each other. Just two powerful naked bodybuilders breathing heavily. With our muscles bulging from the fight, make that two hulking bodybuilders. Veins popped, flesh stretched and muscles pumped. Two absolute beasts! Two alpha-males in a battle for supremacy.
"So I'm supposed to lay off your balls because of grandchildren? Well I just showed you how I feel about that!" Dad bellowed right in my face. "Like a MuscleFag is going to give me any grandkids! Hah! What a f''ing joke of a way to subtle-beg for mercy! I should have just squeezed until your balls popped. I was less than two minutes away from castrating you, bitch! You're one bull that I would love making into a steer."
I was out of it. I could hear his words, but my brain wasn't processing them. I realized that Dad was backing off, and letting me stand on my own. But then through my mind fog, I hear him a few feet from me. He was snorting and pawing like a bull, then..... BAAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM! ... he charges from 10 yards away, building momentum until his head butts me right in the gut. His big gorilla sized noggin went ears deep into my belly, my rock hard abs collapse like a castle door being hit by at battering ram. I fold in half while his head was still in my intestines.
Helpless now, Pop easily throws me down to the ground! WHAMMMMM!!! He slaps me in an MMA rear naked choke. "UHHHHHGGG. NOOOOO!!!!" He is on my back and has the mount. He cranks my already injured neck with his choke hold. His attack was relentless, brutal, and merciless. Two generations of muscle gods had struggled with everything they had to overpower each other, and we seemed to finally have a victor. Pop had taken me to school and given me a class on how a muscleman destroys another muscleman! "I can slide my cock into your hot ass now, buddy! Seriously, I could butt rape you right now if I wanted and you couldn't do a thing to to stop me!" Pop whispered in my ear, chillingly.
I felt the tip of Dad's cock lightly touch my ass. But he didn't try to get it inside me right away. Instead, he used his cock to play: slide the hot dog around in the bun, with the hard-muscled globes of my ass! Then, he started to tease the entrance to my hole with short, but firm pokes in between some long strokes.
"You're sexy as fuck! Wanna be my girlfriend, cutie?" Dad continued, at least he laughed a little when he said it. “You made me work for your ass, 'straight' boy. I’ll give you that, stud!” He emphasized the word straight, implying that he thought I was anything but. "Just wait until you've got a man's dick up inside of you, a man's arms wrapped around you, and a man's strength taking you and owning you. Then you'll really know what you like."
I had been dominated like this, only once before in my two decades, and that had also been by an older man, Coach Chesnick, back in High School, which my faith readers, may recall!
Then Pop released his rear naked choke and shoved me to the ground, hard. "Get up, dude, and walk it off. Take as long as you need. Me and you ain't finished yet!"
One last round. One last chance to redeem myself. The Bear Hug. The definitive test of two men's power. Two muscle-men used to being able to out-muscle almost anyone, now putting it on the line as each will try to dominate the other.
Dad and I stepped forward, locking our bodies together in a mutual bear hug. He pressed his rock-hard body into mine, grinding our huge pecs, our muscular bellies, and our swollen crotches together. I grunted again as I felt my rib cage bending inward from his crushing arms. I gave my armor plate abs a protective flex. I push forward and ram my big chest into his. My thick beefy chest tightly presses into Dad's, huge powerful pecs to huge powerful pecs. I rub our pecs back and forth until our nipples harden and then spike. Then our now steel hard nips meet in a pec fight, pushing into each other, trying to invert the other's nipples.
Pop growled, ratcheting up the intensity of his hold while grinding his horse-sized cock harder into my over- sized package. “Yeah, boy – do you feel that? I will be using my big stud cock on Krystal again tonight. She loves my big cock! Krystal said I'm the best dick she's ever had. She sure doesn't have any doubts that I'm 100% man! Sorry I can't say she feels the same about you...” He taunted, hitting in me in my pride, and growing insecurities, a blow crueler than a groin shot!
Dad cinched his bearhug even tighter on me, driving our thick chests and erect nipples together, which caused me to grimace and toss my head back, groaning in pain. "AHHHHHH!!! You're breaking my back!" I groaned. Pop smiled as he looked at me, enjoying the anguished expression of the rival muscleman he was crushing against his equally muscular body.
I squeezed Dad harder in return with my equally muscular and equally strong rock-hard bulging biceps. Now we were both flexing our cannonball bi's into the other’s ribs. OOOOORRRRGGGHHHHHH!! GGRRRUUHHHHUHHHHH!!! We grunted and groaned, each determine to break the others ribs, even as we felt our own rib cages being compressed painfully and dangerously. Two bodybuilders with our intertwined massive bodies dripping with sweat while grinding those heavily muscled bodies together.
It was instantly clear, that Pop had been to this rodeo many times. I possess a good bearhug, but Dad's bearhug was a freak'in work of art. The dude was a fucking master of the front bearhug hold. The secret was that Pop squeezed his victims not only with his massive biceps, but also with his powerful pecs. As a result, the victims were squeezed from all directions. He had applied the hold so tightly, I doubted anyone ever escaped once he hold locked it on. I truly felt like prey in a python’s crushing vise grip. And like a boa constrictor, Dad methodically and relentlessly tightened his grip – rippling his muscles like a snake – each time I exhaled. So tight was Dad’s hold that I could feel the nipples on Pop’s pecs and the veins in his biceps burning into me. But I was a top tier athlete, a genetic freak in the prime of my life, and my excellent physical conditioning was keeping me conscious, even in Pop's astounding bearhug!
I wasn't about ultimately about being tough, but about how long I could keep it up, before I passed out! Fearing that possibility fueled my comeback! I suddenly constricted every super strong muscle in my massive upper body – from abs to neck – in one giant squeeze. Pop's eyes flew open in shock, and he let out a yell, as he felt his ribs cracking, and pain shot throughout his entire body! Now Dad had experienced the power of my bearhug, and knew he had a true bearhug fight on his hands! Grappler Dan had taught me well, painfully well!
Our true bodybuilder muscleguts inflated and deflated against each other, whenever we were able to suck in some air. Our cocks were trapped between us. We could feel powerful abdominal muscles pushing against our cocks. Our sweaty, muscular stomachs slid on and caressed our trapped boners! We were being masturbated by our own bodybuilder bellies!
Me and Pops, both groaned involuntarily from the overwhelming erotic stimulation we experienced. Precum dribbled out of our piss slits. "This is turning you on, isn't it, Mule?" Pop grunted. "Admit that you're enjoying rubbing boners and bodies with me!"
"Give it a rest Pervmeister," I retorted with a snarl, but somehow we had escalated beyond the casual 'muscle-flirting' that all testosterone filled jocks engage in with each other, this despite my snarling words, I could not deny!
My old man's hard on was as solid and strong as a teenager's boner, and was every bit a match for mine. Dad began to grind on me. He rubbed his deeply ridged set of eight pac abs against mine. I could feel his thick horse cock rubbing against my donger. Pop was trying to turn me on. And he was succeeding! His grinding had me lusting for him. He rubbed his heavy muscled pecs against my beefy pecs as he ground his boner into mine. We were humping our sweaty naked bodies together!
Suddenly I had a flash back to when I was a freshman and attended my first football training camp. The hazing of the newbies by the vets was legendary. It was all to increase the bonding between the jocks, but like with the old Roman Gladiators, them was a sexual aspect to the male bonding.
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| Yes, it is a FLASHBACK effectively within a FLASHBACK, get over it! |
FLASHBACK TO MY FRESHMAN FOOTBALL HAZING!
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| Let's play a game of WHERE'S MULE? Can you spot ME? |
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| For Friday night meals, the newbies had to dress like whores and strippers and wait on the tables for the vets |
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| As the strongest of the newbies, I was target of a lot of Hazing by the Vets |
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| My team mate, JaMarcus Daquan the third Jr -5th Year Senior - Alpha of the veteran players! |
https://www.urbandictionary.com/define Frot
Now I had dry humped chicks and done my share of grinding on the dance floor, but I was a novice at Frot. But this Frot had a twist, it was between two team mates, both big studly jock football players. And the Frot took place in the locker room with 40 something other team mates watching and cheering like it was a bro brawl among rivals at a bar. Except for the beating off, of course. I was the biggest frosh so I got picked to Frot with JaMarcus, a bit stud Vet. So, yeah, with an audience clanting "FROT, FROT, FROT, FROT, FROT......!!!" I had my load rubbed out of me by JaMarcus. At least no pictures were allowed!
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| JaMarcus was a Stud All rippling black muscle and a Mandingo cock! |
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| It's just me an you and me, dick to dick, with the whole team watching! JaMarcus took the dominant position, top mounting the rookie -ME- a huge advantage in a cockfight! |
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| I will prove my cock is stronger than yours, bro! Everyone is going to see me make you cum all over yourself. I’m going to rock your world, white boy! |
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| FROT! FROT! FROT! FROT! FROT! FROT! A locker room of jocks with way too much testosterone chanted! |
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| JaMarcus continued to Frot the rookie -Your Mule, using his powerful tool to hump his teammate! |
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| The two football jocks dick-fought, but the veteran was out-sexing the rookie! JaMarcus rode me, like I was a bucking bull at the rodeo! |
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| THE WHITE BOY'S GONNA LOSE! came a yell from the audience! |
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| I groan as I totally lost control of my cock! There was a boiling in my balls and bursts of hot jizz began spewing out of my thick cock! In front of the entire team, the ramming of the black stallion's mighty manmeat forces me to cum! There was nothing I could do to stop this total humiliation! |
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| My treacherous cock had surrendered to JaMarcus's powerful cock-fucking! Everyone had seen me forced to ejaculate by another male! I lay on the floor with my abs and pecs covered with the baby-batter that had been forced out of my thick nuts. |
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| I was coated with so much cum that it looked like I had been used as the cum dumpster for a six man frat bro circle jerk! JaMarcus had shown everyone that the vets still ruled! |
But it sure worked. When this rite of passage was over, JaMarcus and I were bonded closer than brothers. We ended up rooming together in the Athletic dorm for the rest of the year!
But then my mind snapped back to the present!
"Gawd, Dad's body is so hot. and sexy! Fuck how did that thought sneak into my brain! It must have been from thinking about JaMarcus." I groaned as I pressed my ripped torso and groin against my father's. One does tend, despite oneself, to catch some feels for a older strong, virile male, who is trying to dominate you physically, Coach Chesnick had taught me that! But what of Creepy, Pervy Dad, he seemed all hot for me, or maybe I was just projecting, to excuse my own disturbing thoughts! Maybe it was him simply being horned from the adrenaline rush of dominating another man!
His cock was hard as steel, so he clearly was horned as well, whatever the motivation, as the paternal donger ground together with that of his son's. I was trying to remember that this sexy musclegod that I wanted so bad was my father, and nip these feelings in the bud! But I was too far gone into a horny haze, for that now. My cock had taken control of my body. Pop moaned erotically. He'd always loved a man-on-man cock fight, but with his own son was something even more incredible, especially as he thought he was winning, and ever the competitor, and jealous of his son's youth, he was relishing a win!
I growled hungrily as I savored the warmth of the muscle man against me. The tightness of the contact, the moistness of our sweat aroused me to a frenzy. Moving my hips in short fucking motions, I forced my rigid meat into Dad's cock with the force of a runaway piston engine.
Dad returned the assault! Spreading his body builder thighs ever wider and digging his toes into the ground, Pop thrust back harder. I fought to free myself, certain that I couldn't stand any more, but I was totally unable to stop the relentless punishment to my cock that he was delivering.
I was on fire, the burn searing his thoughts to cinders as I couldn't stop the strangled groans that vibrated in my throat. I was being driven mad by my Dad's cockfight prowess, by the physical force he was using to pin me in place, by the knowledge that Pop was determined to make me his love sick puppy, just as Coach Chesnick once had done! But I had emerged ultimately victorious from that encounter, and I could again, if only I could feel a surge of vigor and vitality again, and shake this enervation! Was the fact that this was my Dad, and all these conflicting feelings hold me back from such a resurgence? This is precisely WHY, I hate them feels! Regardless of what I hoped to happen, our cocks began to throb. Our huge bodies strained and every magnificent muscle rippled. We felt a boiling in our balls and felt the cum rise from our nuts up our thick meat poles. We were both desperately trying not to cum first, but neither could delay much longer what was about to happen!
I held on tight to the the big, tanned, hard, muscle-man' body of my Dad! All Pop could do was to grunt in agony as his brawny physique writhed in my muscular arms that kept Dad tightly wrapped up!
But the pleasure also began to mount. After a few minutes of both musclemen rubbing our swords together our huge cocks submitted to each other. Our minds were lost to the waves of pain and pleasure! Within seconds, bursts of hot, milky jizz began spewing out of our thick cocks and onto chest and abs.
Dad bellowed like a bull in heat as he was seized by the acute intensity of his own orgasm. His seething, hot, chiseled muscles surged and rippled! His teeth clenched and he began to growl. He yelled out loud. "Ohhhhhhh. Ohhhhhh!" His cock danced as it pulsed and his mega super-sized body began to empty its semen into the space between us. The mountain of muscle erupted like a volcano.
I blew my load in the exact same second. I winced at my first few ejaculations. Then my huge, muscular body tightened. Muscle after muscle rippled as my body convulsed with the most powerful orgasm I had had in a long time. My oversize cock let loose with a loud, hard round of shots. I let out a strained moans -- almost a yell, but it was stifled by the intensity of the seizure that intensified with each jerking ejaculation of my cum. Pop and I had cum in loads as big as a six-man frat bros circle jerk!
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| Our huge cocks submitted to the assault they were under! Our chiseled muscles surged and rippled! Cum was spewing out of our thick cocks and filling the space between our chest and abs! |
Dad grinned as he watched me burn with a combination of lust and shame. We held each other tightly and pushed our muscled torsos closer. The deep ridges of our eight-pack abs and the deep V of our Adonis belts, acted as cum gutters to drain the jizz away from our muscular bodies.
"Oh shit man. THAT was totally over the edge," Pop grunted. Just like it had happened during the hazing Frot with JaMarcus, I was catching some very un-son like feels for Pop.
Pop was a spent force. He was drained of energy, strength and of testosterone. Finally my youthfulness was going to make a difference. My young muscles could recover in a flash. I was finally recharging. I was at my sexual peak and the cum factory between my legs pumped out new product as fast as I drew down on the inventory. Dad may be a stud in bed for his age, but he is still a two pump chump, while I routinely cum 8 times a night with multiple sluts. Pop is still down on the ground and gasping for air and unable to stand up, while it was obvious from my easy breathing that my superbly conditioned young muscle-jock body was not a bit tired or winded.
His age was really showing now! His soft cock hung longer and his balls hung lower than mine, but I have noticed that on the old dudes that hang around naked in gyms, and I attributed to the effect of the theory of gravity making things sag after a couple of decades. Women's breasts do the same after 40. In contrast, despite the earlier beating, I had taken, I looked MAGNIFICENT, in the prime of my muscular youth, and my joystick and balls, were no exception!
Time to show this over-the-hill pretender, that it was GAME ON! No mercy for the Popsicle, it was GO HAM! Go"hard as a motherfucker"!
HAM: URBAN DICTIONARY
Now Pop's ass was grass, and I was the lawnmower. I kicked my big body builder leg up, connecting my size 14 bare foot with the softened-up washboard abs of my Dad. THUD! OOF! Pop’s midsection folded and he dropped to his knees, head down and ass up as he coughed. Man, for a dude of any age, Pop had a beaut of a rock hard, chiseled set of worked out glutes. His muscle ass look like it had been sculpted from solid marble. Pop was still showing how much a stud he was, as he fought through the pain and slowly started to engage in hand-to-hand combat with me yet again. But he didn't have much gas left in his tank, I made sure Dad stayed off-balance with a skilled combination of kicks and punches. I pounded Pop's midsection from just above the base of his exposed cock to just below his pecs until his whole torso was bright red. Dad tightened his abs for protection but I just hit harder so my brutal fists broke through his muscle wall. POW! THUD! POW! Pop turned around and charged again. He missed again. I noticed that as Pop tired, his fighting style went from skilled boxer and martial artist to beefy brawler. He was wild. Careless. Clumsy.
I was standing over Pop. I was out of breath, my huge chest and rippling abs heaving for air. I looked down at my groaning Dad, praying that he didn't get back up. What I had just dished out on Pop wasn't just a muscle beat down--- it had been a slaughter!! I had dished out the punishment, and had worked him over until he was bloody, beaten pulp. My Dad was shocked by my strength and my viciousness. "Payback's a bii-atch, muthafucker!" A curious expression given the circumstance, as he had LITERALLY fucked my mother to produce ME!
But Pop's fists had done plenty of damage to me. Each and every punch he had thrown into my muscle-packed body, had felt like it was loaded with dynamite!! He had made his point. He was every bit as strong and as powerful as me. Maybe even stronger!
I looked down at my powerful athlete-father, who was collapsed into a pile of muscle at my bare feet. Dad was drenched in sweat, nothing moving except for his massive heaving chest, and rapidly inflating and deflating musclegut. Pop was exhausted, I had brought him closer to defeat than anyone before.
Pop couldn't even rise to his feet. And I didn't give a shit. I was still determined to squeeze the life out of him even if we had to finish the bearhug on our knees.
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| Both of us were too exhausted to even rise to our feet. But I was still determined to squeeze a submission out of my Dad even if we had to finish the bearhug on our knees! I wrap my heavily muscled arms around PaPa's waist, and lock my fist into his lower back! I begin to intensify my devastating bear hug! I am enjoying every painful moment that I am inflicting on Pop! |
With us both on our knees, I growled: “Now I’m going to CRUSH your muscle-bound body, Tough Guy!” I wrapped Pop up in a cocoon of solid muscle. He knew that it would only be a second before these muscles began to flex and grow. His total destruction was near, and he knew it. I forced Pop's agonized body harder and harder against the thick wall of steel-like, unyielding, human muscle, that was my torso. He let out a scream. I gave a flex with my hard-muscled arms, chest and abs, that made his rock-solid chest bump into mine, doing so with such force, that he felt as though he had hit a brick wall!
Pop's He-man body is still weak from the first bearhug and forced ejaculation. “Please...!” Is all Dad can mutter, as I wrap my heavily muscled arms around his waist, and lock my fist into his lower back. All of this in preparation, as begin to intensify my devastating bear hug! I am enjoying every painful moment that I am inflicting on Pop.
Pop has trained hard since a teenager, developing a rock-solid physique with massive muscles that feel more like cast iron. But with each flex of my own massive arms, I am coming closer to crushing to defeat, my Dad's muscleman body! Each deep breath I take causes my big chest to expand, increasing the pressure on my Dad's already badly damaged frame. The combined effect from the two consecutive bearhug battles, has brought Pop nearer to defeat than he had ever experienced! My powerful arms are compressing his sculptured 54" chest forcing him to struggle for even the slightest hint of oxygen! His own set of firm, finely crafted ab muscles are being forced to press hard against an unyielding mass of rock-solid power, as I flex and strain with all my muscle power!
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| Shit, Dad! I figured with a great body like yours you would be a little harder to beat! We're about the same size, and yet I kicked your muscle butt! Hell, all it's gonna take is one more good flex from these 22" guns of mine, and I’ll snap your muscle-bound body in two! |
My body is compressed so tightly against Pop's massive chest that he can feel the vibration of my voice even before he hears it! “Shit, Dad! I just figured with a great body like yours, and all those years of playing sports and brawling, you would be a little harder to beat! I mean, we're about the same size, and yet I wiped up the floor with you, despite all your muscle and fighting skill! Hell, all it's gonna take is one more good flex from these 22" guns of mine, and I’ll snap your muscle-bound body in two. I mean, DAMN! I can break your back and crush your ribs, and nothin' you can do about it! Feel your bones breaking? I am squeezing the life out of you!!”
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| Dad was drenched in sweat, nothing moving except for his massive heaving chest, and rapidly inflating and deflating musclegut. |
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| Pop wasn't going anywhere! Pop was exhausted. He had nothing left to fight back with. |
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| You worked your little boy over pretty good. there's no denying that, Pops! |
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| You're a mean, strong mutherfucker. You just kept pouring on the pain. |
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| But take a long look at this body of mine, Dad. I can take care of myself. |
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| I’ve got these muscles from your genes, and I know how to use them. |
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| I was down, I admit, but now you are OUT, Old Timer! |
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| Now this is what REALLY big muscles look like, Pops |
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| That's right, Pop! I am Just as big, just as strong, and a whole lot younger than you, old man! |
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| I may be a football jock, but I got a better body than any of the so-called bodybuilders that hang out at the local gyms. So do you, I got to admit. |
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| Now say it Dad. You know what I want to hear you say! Say it: 'Your muscles... your muscles are huge ...as big as mine' FUCK YEAH! That's what I was waiting to hear! |
“OK, Dad, you worked your little boy over pretty good. there's no denying that! You just kept pouring on the pain. Fuck, I got my shit pushed in... big time, just like you promised! But you still haven't kicked my ass." I let what had just said to him sunk in. You're a mean, strong mutherfuker. But take a long look at this body of mine, Dad. I can take care of myself. I’ve got these muscles I got from your genes, and I know how to use them.
"Watch!” I told him, as I raised my big arms out to my sides in a slow, powerful arc, eventually planting my hands behind my neck. I began flexing my powerful top tier college athlete body. I slowly exhaled and the skin covering my abs dissolved into nothing, leaving only two columns of river rock, each individual stone a master work of perfection. Muscles bulged and bunched against each other; then as I slowly twisted my hips and upper body, they expanded and rolled. Facing forward, I put my hands on his hips, moved one leg slightly in front of the other and flexed it. Ropes of muscles hardened into deeply cut valleys and peaks of muscle. My leg size was off the scale, each one easily larger than the diameter of my waist. I was a football jock, but I knew I had a better body than any of the so-called bodybuilders that hung out at the local gyms.
"Now this is what REALLY big muscles look like, Pops" I smiled. I looked down at my arms and chest, rippled them in a showy posedown for my Dad. "Now say it Dad. You know what I want to hear you say! Now a say it! Say it or this beat down is gonna continue!" I demanded.
"Your muscles... your muscles are huge ...as big as mine," he mumbled.
"That's right, Pop! Just as big, just as strong, and a whole lot younger, old man," my smart ass mouth snapped back. Our breathing was uncontrollably heavy. Dad showed a look of admiration towards his boy’s physique. I got to admit, I enjoyed having my Pop muscle worshiping my body. I even found it hot.
For the first time ever, I could see an expression of approval on my Pop's face when he looked at me. Fuckin’ asshole. Every ounce of my anger returned. I had to fight him, and beat him into a bloody pulp for him to approve of me? How fucked up was that?
For the first time ever, I could see an expression of approval on my Pop's face when he looked at me. Fuckin’ asshole. Every ounce of my anger returned. I had to fight him, and beat him into a bloody pulp for him to approve of me? How fucked up was that?
Just one more thing I had to do. Time for the new bull to take out the old bull. Time for the this has-been, past his expiration date old muscle-stud to pass the torch to he next generation. Something I still had to do to prove I was the real man in the family now!
I grabbed Pop's head with both my hands. And then I squeezed. As hard as I could. My biceps bulged to incredible size and veins the size of garden hoses popped out in my arms! Dad crawled at my hands and kicked his feet, but my grip was unbreakable. It was like when the Mountain crushed Prince Oberyn's head like a melon on Game of Thrones.
Dad screamed. I continued to squeeze. It was like his head was in a vise that was closing. Blood began to come out of his ears. He had a brain bleed. He went limp. He was unconscious. In about 30 seconds there would be a loud CRAAAAKKK!!!! and his skull would crack open like a coconut! And then I could eat the gray matter of his brain for the protein. But instead, I released my grip. Pop fell down seemingly lifelessly! Just in case, I took the pocket mirror I carry to all my fights for just this purpose, and held it under his nose. The mirror fogged up, so he was still alive. I had sort of mixed feeling about that to be honest. He was definitely comatose though. He probably gonna need to a CT scan and something done about that concussion and brain bleed. They will probably have to shave his head and drill some holes in his skull to relieve the pressure on his brain. I snickered, when I thought how the vain asshole was gonna take going bald for a few weeks. He probably lost a few IQ points from that concussion, but with the 20 or more concussions he had from playing football, for all those years, a few less brain cells weren't a biggie. Pop wasn't all that bright anyway. I just left him there, naked and beaten into a bloody pulp, for one of the joggers to find when the sun came up.
I took one last look at Pop's laying there, squashed like a bug when it hits a car windshield. He was still dead to the world. "You know Dad..." I said even tho' I knew he couldn't hear me "I didn't give a shit about you fucking that slut Krystal. All I ever wanted you to do was to take me out for ice cream, Daddy!" Ice cream did sound good though, and it was then, that I realized how famished I was!
A half hour later I lay in bed in my dorm room and stroking my big cock thinking about the fight. As I slowly stroked my long horse-sized cock my mind created erotic fantasies while I spanked my meat. I threw off the bed covers and grabbed my cock.
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| I threw off the bed covers and grabbed my cock! With firm, strong strokes from my powerful hand, I jacked myself off re-living the erotic fight with my Dad! |
My cock was so hard it hurt. "Damn, Pop!" I reflected in confusion! I thought I had won and beaten him, but now I think he won, too. I wanted to beat him again and dominate him. I wanted so much to make him my bitch. But DAYUM, I now wanted his fucking big Dad cock against mine again. I wanted to make him whimper and beg, while I forced every drop of cum out of his massive bull balls. I began to have unnervingly pervy thoughts of my Dad, naked, under me! I wanted him sexually. That was weird random thoughts to have, which somehow made it even pervier and hotter. I still didn't know why Dad had been trying to get me so hot for him. Surely he knew I couldn't have him that way.
And the truth is, he had made me hot for him, which was weird as fuck. I won't lie! Not to my loyal readers! My Dad was hot as fuck, and as I lay in bed stroking my cock, I thought about us doing each other. It took a a couple of weeks before I finally managed to settle down, and put those thoughts out of my mind, but those feelings were real while they lasted!
But my hot fantasies didn't stop even when I fell asleep. I started to dream about me and Pop.
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| ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....... |
~Mule's Dream~
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In my dream, I had Pop in some weird-ass wrestling hold
that probably wouldn't work in real life. But since this was
a dream it worked just fine, and he submitted like a bitch!
|
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| Pop submitted with a scream and begged for mercy! Maybe I should force him to suck my cock to establish my dominance? |
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| ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....... |
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| Suddenly, Krystal popped up in my dream! Was she here hoping to see which one of us lost, and ended up sucking cock? |
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| Krystal the slut was here to join in the fun! She was sucking off Dad with her talented mouth! Krystal's best feature, is her lack of a gag reflex! |
Krystal was rubbing and feeling up my 29" steel hard rippling quads as he whispered something in my ear. Krystal wants to see what these big legs of mine can do. With that, I quickly maneuvered Dad into a standing scissors head-lock hold. Pop tried every move he knew to prevent the hold. But even though he knew what was coming, he was unable to stop it. I was simply too powerful!
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| ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....... |
My gargantuan legs wrapped around Pop's head. I flexed my 29" quads. Dad's hands were on my quads, trying to push them away. But my legs were massive trunks of human rock. Dad began to feel the boulder-hard striations my huge leg muscles, as I began to tighten my hold. My legs grew and hardened into the biggest vise grips on earth. With unrelenting force, my legs tightened their grip even more. The pain to Dad's head was excruciating. Pop pounded my quads with his fists, but he couldn't even make a dent in the steel-hard muscles. I was enjoying the big man's ineffective efforts to break loose of my hold. Still my powerful legs squeezed. He was suffering now. Dad groaned.
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| I put my Pop in a standing head scissors. With my gargantuan legs wrapped around Pop's head, I flexed my 29" quads. |
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| ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....... |
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| The boulder-hard striations my huge leg muscles popped as My legs grew and hardened! My legs squeezed his head even harder. Dad groaned. Pop pounded my quads with his fists, but he couldn't even make a dent in my steel-hard muscles! |
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| I wake up from these these very disturbing dreams! |
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| Let me tell you what your dream meant, Mule! It is an arrested developmental outcome of an unresolved Oedipal complex where competition with the father leads to a transfer of desire from the mother to the father! It is all rooted in primal urges of sex and violence, let me explain-- |
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| SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SHUT UP! |
I heard the next day that a groundskeeper picking up trash found a naked muscleman unconscious, and badly beaten on the practice field at dawn. The police thought he had been curb stomped and robbed by a gang of thugs. Really big and strong thugs, thought the cop, when he saw the size of the victim. Pops did have an concussion with brain swelling, but they didn't have to shave his head and drill holes in his skull, unfortunately. I would have loved to have a pic of that. He was in a coma for two weeks. My Granny made me send flowers to the hospital because, well, that's what civilized people do. My Dad didn't have any hard feeling towards me. "Win some, lose some ... as soon as I am discharged, how about we hit the town, we can grab some drinks, pound some vag and flex for the bitches..." And we did! No permanent damage done. And yeah, Pop was a lousy father, but he was great to have as a wingman to pick up sluts, a gym buddy always down to lift, and as extra muscle to have your back in a bar fight.
So Pop and I didn't get a chance to do the double-penetration thing with Krystal that night, as much fun as that sounded. What with Dad being in a coma and all. But we got our chance to DP when we went bird hunting in Argentina two months later. It was a great time with plenty of male bonding. And Dad picked up the tab since I was a broke-ass college kid. One night we headed into town (a collection of shacks and bars passes for a town in this part of the world). There was a whore whose services he had used on previous hunts. Pop said she would be down for anything, if the price was right. And what Dad had in mind, is some father and son bonding, DP style. Double-Penetration, that is. "One in the pink and one in the stink" as its called when your talking pussy with the boys. It's when two guys have their penises in a girl's ass and pussy at the same time. There is usually a lot of ball bumping (two men's nuts rubbing together) as the woman is penetrated anally & vaginally by 2 men at the same time. In other words: Two dicks in one chick!
I was expecting a whore like the $20 for a blow job meth-head crack-whores back home. B ut instead she was a highly-evolved and really hot looking slut. I've long ago forgot her name, if I ever knew it, but I just call her the Argentine whore.
It was a good time. “Now the fun begins. Mule, are you ready to fuck her DP?” Pop asked. I was more than ready. Dad crawled onto the bed, and he lay on his back pulling the Argentine whore on top of him, and inserted his long thick dick balls deep into her ass with one thrust of his powerful hips. Argentine whore looked a little nervous, as she looked at two big blond bodybuilders, 250 lbs of solid rippling muscle each, and both hung like horses. But she performed like a champ. We were wasting no time here. I got into my position and entered her pussy with my thick cock, making her gasp. Pop and me each slowly found a rhythm. I could actually feel his shaft rubbing against mine. Odd sensation. It almost felt like Pop was fucking me on his upward strokes LOL. And then both being the competitive fucks that all good athletes are, we started racing and trying to out fuck each other. Argentine whore, a good sport, got the fucking of her life as me and Dad were tossing her around like a ragdoll. Ten minutes in we were both giving it all we had, and whenever one of us would slow down, the other would coax him back up to speed, through brutal humiliation.
Yeah, Pop and I shared a lot of adventures like that over the next few years, usually on hunting trips. A fave was deer hunting. The hunting stand was in a pretty remote area. To deal with the boredom at night, after a morning of hunting and an afternoon of napping, Dad liked to ride to this redneck bar on his Harley. I would ride the bitch seat and quite a few beers would be consumed.
Then one night Dad had an idea, that he would go into the bar first, and I would go in a few minutes later. We would act like we didn't know each other. Then he would pretend to have a beef over me bumping him or something. and we would have a bare knuckle brawl. Neither one of us was any good at holding back in a fight, so they all ended up being real knock down drag outs. Not only had good fights, but lots of pussy too. Lots of sloots get real wet and horny watching muscle dudes fight!
Anyway, lots of other experiences with Pop, but I won't go into all of those since many of them are probably illegal in most countries. We would "hunt" together several times a year. But as luck would have it, a seven years ago Dad knocked up his then live-in playboy pinup. Nothing like being near Social Security age and having a kid, LOL. Suddenly I was a brother, well, at least a half brother. Turns out Pop is a great father, well, at least to this kid. Spends all his time doing shit with the kid. I think his baby-mama may have had Dad spayed and neutered when the child was born, to be honest! Whatever the reason, Pop has finally been tamed.
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ALSO, THIS WILL BE THE LAST VIEWER SUGGESTED STORY FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE
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