Johnny Septimus sat in the window of his bedroom, looking out over the hedge into the back yard of his neighbor, Mr. Slotski. This was a frequent occupation of his, as Mr. Slotski was keeping a garden in his backyard and liked to work while wearing only a pair of rather short cut-off jeans, which let the eleven-year-old feast upon the sight of the man's muscles moving and flexing and shining in the bright sun of late spring.
There was a lot to shine. Ivan Slotski was in his mid-40's, about six foot, three inches tall, and so muscled he, as Johnny's mother commented to a neighbor in Johnny's hearing soon after the man moved in next door last week, "he has muscles on his muscles!"
Mr. Slotski was well-muscled, but there was that about him that lacked the distinct markings of a muscle-builder. When a man lifts weights, the muscle mass added on tends to push the veins of the body out to where they lift the skin in curving lines, blue like the marks of a river on a map. Mr. Slotski had their muscles, all the beautiful bulges and arcs of those muscles on his fair Caucasian (Russian?) skin.
If it could be considered to disfigure his body (Johnny didn't think so), Mr. Slotski had a lot of hair on his body, including a neatly-groomed but formidable-looking beard, all of it a deep black in color, save for a scattering of gray hairs which appeared to be highlights rather than the ravages of age.
Mr. Slotski moved, and the muscles of the big man danced in a symphony of male beauty that stirred Johnny's gut in a weird way, his stomach waggled like he was going to be sick, and his groin twitched and his prick was hard as a rock. He looked down at the muscle magazine he'd been staring at. That one picture of the two muscle-men, one of them was touching the other's pectoral in a way that made it look like a caress, the one being touched was smiling... Johnny pictured Mr. Slotski's face on the one being touched, and the hand touching him as being his own and his gut wrenched again in that way which was both painful and...needful, at the same time.
Johnny had resolved the question of whether he was gay on the day Mr. Slotski moved in next door and Johnny had seen the big man handling a couch single-handed the way a regular man would handle an armchair. Johnny knew right then, he was gay, and he craved big, strong, handsome men. Like Mr. Slotski. In a way it was nice, having this resolved, for he'd been so screwed up until he'd seen the massive man and his muscles in play. He'd never been able to observe a muscled man before, except in muscle magazines, and none of them looked as good Mr. Slotski.
Mr. Slotski looked up, saw Johnny, and smiled and waved. Johnny waved back, and the big man returned to his work, he was hoeing the garden, cutting the weeds which had begun to spring up and aerating the soil so the vegetables' roots could grow more rapidly and feed the plants. He already had the beginning of a beautiful vegetable garden, tomato plants, corn stalks, all of them already beginning form their harvest, bulbs of green on the tomato plants, bulges of corn on its cob inside the green husks, the cabbages and lettuce forming their heads of green goodness.
It was his way of putting his brain on idle so he could think things through more clearly later. There was a lot to think over.
Two days ago, he'd been found out. It had been a normal day for him. He only worked a half-day at his job, and he'd moved to the special part of his yard that he kept for his private workouts (an automobile scrapyard, he owned about a square mile of land on the edge of town which was covered mostly with old junked automobiles.) He'd spent a half hour exercising his body in his special way and just when he'd finished a set, he saw...them.
Two men, in a helicopter, hovering overhead and to one side. The man in the passenger seat had a pair of binoculars and was looking right at him. Caught! He'd been caught!
He'd ducked and ran. The helicopter had come after him, but he'd had a thousand cars to hide under and in, they lost him. He waited until the air was dead silent and then had cautiously crept out and back to his yard. There, he'd gone into his garage and waited until three of his employees were leaving, he'd walked out with them and got into his pickup and left along with them.
Then, this afternoon, he'd had a visitor. A tall, blond, handsome man built to the same scale as Ivan (and that was a rare sight indeed), wearing a tailored navy-blue business suit, he'd walked into Ivan's office and held out his free hand (the other held a briefcase) and introduced himself. "Good morning, Mr. Ivan Slotski. My name is Lukas Thorkensen. I'm here to represent Sweethaven."
"What's Sweethaven?" Ivan had asked warily.
"First, let me assure you that your secret is very safe with us. I was the man you saw in the helicopter two days ago, and the pilot has no idea what I was so interested in, or even that I saw you. I have told nobody and regardless of your answer to my proposal, I will tell nobody. You are safe with us."
"Who are you?"
"Let me take you out to lunch and I will explain Sweethaven and my proposal to you in all the detail you could possibly want."
Ivan had agreed and the lunch, at a fine restaurant in a private room, had lasted for two hours. He'd asked questions and been answered, and his doubts disproved completely. Now he had only one question left. Basically, did he stay here, or did he go to Sweethaven?
Mr. Slotski moved to the edge of his garden where he was trying to coax a grapevine to crawl up the side of a large, rather imposing trellis that went all the way up to his rooftop. Mr. Slotski put one of the vines up to the trellis and struggled with the height of the vine which was almost nine feet, he was trying to tie it at the tip of his arm length. He couldn't reach, by over a foot.
Johnny saw Mr. Slotski begin to look around, furtively, as if he had a secret to hide. Alerted, Johnny quickly ducked behind the drapes of the window and stared through it as Mr. Slotski studied Johnny's window carefully, trying to see if the boy was still watching. Satisfied that Johnny wasn't there, he turned back around to the trellis, and Johnny dared to look directly again.
The man's muscles...grew! Not just swelled, they expanded until his biceps weren't just oranges, they were melons! Watermelons! His back muscles, too, amplified in girth and width until they were extraordinarily huge. Even the leg muscles swelled to twice their normal size. This was more than simple human flexion...something weird was going on here!
Watched as Mr. Slotski began to grow. Literally grow, he gained a foot, two feet, in height and his muscles grew even greater with his height, keeping him man-shaped instead of lizard-shaped. Now the veins on the mans arms and legs and body protruded in a jigsaw-puzzle of marks on the otherwise smooth and flawless skin, skittering over his chest and disappearing into the mat of hair on his chest. Johnny goggled as Mr. Slotski became a superman in all ways, he was a man-and-a-half or more in size. This extra height let him fasten the vines to the trellis easily and he did this quickly, and then shrank back to his original height. Again he looked around and right at the boy gawking at him out of the window, and then all around, then quickly gathered his tools and hastened back inside his house. The movements of a man with something to hide, and Johnny had seen it, but wasn't sure he believed it!
Ivan got back inside his house and just sat down, breathing hard. The efforts with the trellis hadn't wearied him, he was panting from fear. Found out, again! This time by a child! Oh dear God, a child!
He waited. Either Johnny Septimus would tell his parents about what he'd seen right away, or he wouldn't. Either way, there would be a knock at his door. If it was Johnny, he could try to talk the boy into keeping silent. If it was one of Johnny's parents, then his answer would have to be what it had been when he was sixteen years old, living in a small village back in Russia. He'd have to run, and run far enough that nobody would ever find him. Sweethaven. He'd have to run to Sweethaven, Lukas had told him that the secret of Sweethaven was a carefully guarded one, they could hide him along with themselves. He might have to run anyhow, if there wasn't a knock on the door. Fear or curiosity, that was what people felt when they saw Ivan exhibit his special talent. Curiosity could be handled, fear, never. But all he could do, either way...was wait.
He hoped it would be Johnny who'd come knocking at the door. That young boy, the way he looked at Ivan, stirred that something in his soul that he had found nowhere else in this world. Not in the arms of a woman, nor in those of another man. Only a boy could soothe the ache he felt in his very soul. He'd tasted that flavor only once before, over six years ago. One beautiful summer night, one joyful joining...and then it was gone and he'd been alone once more.
Johnny peered at the backyard for a solid hour, but Mr. Slotski didn't come back outside, his garden remained half-hoed, the weeds still holding a large portion of his field under their threat. Johnny looked again at his magazines, at the men standing there, broad, strong, powerful, happy. And none of them held a candle in his eyes any longer. He'd seen Mr. Slotski, and now his desire held a single, solitary purpose. He had to go talk to Mr. Slotski, he just had to!
He didn't have to explain himself, his mother and father both worked and wouldn't be home for hours yet. Johnny, as a latch-key kid, was supposed to stay indoors and keep quiet and study and watch TV and play his games until they got home. He was alone until almost six o'clock, another two hours off.
He caught a look at himself as he ran by the huge mirror hung in the hallway, when walking down it to got to the living room and kitchen, you had to watch yourself walk for a half-dozen steps or more. He was quite a cute kid, though he didn't notice it himself, he'd seen it too often. His aunt had once said he looked a lot like Lee Montgomery had as a child. In fact, Johnny bore a resemblance (but only a resemblance) to the young actor. The hair color, the shape of the face, all of that, were the same, that of an overgrown cherub, still bearing many of the marks of the adorable baby he'd once been, the face that would one day grow to be a beautiful (but not a handsome) man. For now, he just had to dodge matronly visitors who wanted to pinch his cheeks and plant lipstick marks all over his soft, adorable face.
Johnny knocked on Mr. Slotski's front door and waited. It took the man a long time to answer, and Johnny was about to give up, but then Mr. Slotski opened the door. Johnny was disappointed to see he had donned a loose sweatshirt. "Hi, Mr. Slotski, can I come in?"
"I think you'd better." Mr. Slotski said. He stood back to let the boy inside. "We need to have a long talk, I think." His heart was beating fast, his soul dared to hope.
"Yeah." Johnny went inside. Mr. Slotski's living room was nicely done, but lacked that touch that said a woman had taken a hand in it. It had a couch and chair, side tables, television and coffee table, a few pictures on the wall, all clean and proper. But no individual touches. The room could have come out of a furniture catalogue's picture designed to show the furniture and nothing else. Johnny declined Mr. Slotski's offer of a cold soda and then said, "I came to ask you something."
"You mean, about what happened in my garden?" Ivan asked. "I saw you watching me." There. He'd said it. He sat down on the couch beside Johnny, but not too near. Not yet.
"Yeah." Johnny said. "I saw how your body sort of...sort of...."
"Got very large?" Ivan prompted.
"Yeah." Johnny agreed. "I saw how you kind of expanded all that way and it doesn't seem as if it's natural, I mean, that a person normally doesn't...."
"And what is normal, Johnny?" Ivan leaned toward the boy, that beautiful, soft-skinned, achingly innocent boy.
"I dunno." Johnny looked down at his shoes.
"I don't either. Some people...." Ivan sighed and then went on, he had planned how to answer this question long ago, so he didn't have to think it through, he had just the words he wanted to use ready. "Some people have talents that others don't. Some people, without any real training, can add huge numbers in their heads all at once. Some people have perfect pitch, that is, they can tell each note from the next as clearly as you and I can tell a white dog from a black dog, and sing it. I have watched a show where a man made the most extraordinary sounds using only his mouth, sounds that you'd never expect a man to make."
"Uh-huh." Johnny had heard of all of these things.
"So, for me." Ivan spread his hands to show his innocence. "How is it that I can make my muscles bigger when I need to? I don't know. I just know that I can, that I always could. Call it what you want, a gift, a talent...."
"A superpower?" Johnny said. "Like Superman?"
"Maybe." Ivan smiled, if the boy was impressed, he couldn't be fearful. He was safe, so long as this boy could satisfy the questions. "But I don't fly through the air or fight crime. I just...am."
"Wow." Johnny said. "Can I see it? Up close?"
"You want to see me grow and see my muscles?" Ivan began to feel more comfortable. Johnny was just curious, not at all afraid. He could be assuaged by knowledge, and beyond that, maybe, just maybe...the memory of that long-ago summer night burned brightly for a moment before he could push it back down again.
"Uh-huh, can I see you make them all big?"
"I do not make them big. I make myself small to fit into the world. I shall show you first my real form. Do not be afraid, I will not harm you."
Ivan stood up, shed the large sweatshirt and was again wearing just the shorts. His body, now visible close up, was more beautiful than ever to little Johnny's hungry eyes. Even in relaxation, the biceps were gigantic globes on each upper arm, supported behind by oval bulges that tried, and failed, to counterbalance the biceps' might. His chest muscles were large and squared-off globes as well, but their height and spacing kept it from looking the least feminine, instead they roared like lions in the brush of the African veldt of Ivan's chest fur. Below them, his sturdy girth was composed not of belly fat, but large abdominal muscles, a long pair on each side, and an eight-pack of small orbs in two rows reaching from under the chest down to the lower abdominals.
"My normal larger size is why I wear as little as I can when I am working, because something may come along where I need to reclaim my size, like today. I have ripped clothes before, and had them hanging in rags from my shoulders and wrists and waist. Even these shorts, they sometimes tear and always they are painfully tight when I grow to normal when wearing them, like today."
Johnny giggled. "Does it ever make you naked?"
"Once, a long time ago." agreed Ivan. "It was an uncomfortable but valuable lesson for me." He smiled. Yes, Johnny was much like young Frank had been, long ago, on a warm summer night.
Ivan's kind smile at Johnny's curiosity sobered into a solemness worn by preachers at the pulpit on Sundays. "But Johnny, if I show you my true self, will you promise me in return to never, never tell anyone about this? I don't want doctors examining me, maybe cutting me up to see how it happens. Maybe how to make soldiers like me, who use this power to kill. I have thought about it, it is safer that nobody ever, ever knows. Just me."
"And now me." Johnny said. "So go ahead and grow."
Johnny's eyes were almost glowing and Ivan knew that he was not only safe, but he had found another boy like Frank. All he had to do now, was what he had done that first time. "First I must remove these shorts."
"Yeahhhhh." Johnny breathed as the powerful paws of Mr. Slotski's hands moved to his waistband. He unfastened the central button at the waist slowly, then each button down the fly one by one, pausing slightly at each time to let each little bit of his lowest abdominal display itself. Johnny nearly drooled as he gazed on the sight, so much man, and all man, every bit of it, all of it giving off the slight musky aroma of a man who'd been working hard and which water hadn't quite all washed away, the smell was that of a delicate but heady perfume that wafted into Johnny's nostrils and then drove itself right into his brain. He thought of burying his face in that pubic hair now beginning to reveal itself and shuddered.
The fly undone, the strong hands caught the waistband and slid the jeans-shorts down the sturdy hips. The material clung in a figure-eight to the thick thighs, begging to remain in their favored place at the man's midsection, to breath in its heady ambrosia for itself but Mr. Slotski tugged and it relented, released the thighs and slid disconsolately down to the ankles in a disorderly and discouraged heap.
Mr. Slotski raised back up and body both rising and growing at the same time was much like a burly bear rising to the attack, the arms arced on either side, the legs pulsed as the thighs flexed to return the torso to perpendicular, the abdominals bulged as they were stretched out and there the man was in all his unclad glory, all the golden glow of his skin, the black design of his body hair like a complex tattoo speaking of ancient and powerful tribal alignments, and in the middle of it all, like the king on its throne surrounded by his subjects, was Mr. Slotski's cock.
It was fat and long and still mostly flaccid, a plump, coarse sausage of flesh hanging in its place, ready to be worshiped and adored, delighted and desired, and Johnny gave it all of this with one blazing gaze of his young eyes. Mr. Slotski cleared his throat, not in admonishment, but it helped Johnny break the spell of the powerful man-rod, and Johnny looked up the many hills and mountains of his muscles to peer into Mr. Slotski's eyes for a sign, but there was nothing there, the large man was just waiting for Johnny to speak. He now stood nearly nine feet high, his head barely kept from being pressed against the living room's vaulted ceiling. He would have to bend over to go into any other room than this one.
"Make a muscle for me, Mr. Slotski." Johnny hazarded, in timid but powerful hope.
Mr. Slotski did, a simple flex of his bicep with his right arm. "Call me Ivan, Johnny, if you and I are to be friends." The bicep was a glowing cantaloupe on his arm.
"Ivan. Make it big for me, now." Johnny urged. "Really big."
Ivan pulled down his arm, then raised it again. "Like this?"
"Uh-huh!" Johnny stared at the huge arm muscle in awe. Enormous now, like a captive watermelon, it must measure over a foot across. Johnny wished he had a ruler, or better, the roll of his mother's measuring tape. "Can I feel it?"
Ivan had the boy now, had him for sure, now to reel him in. "Certainly, Johnny." Ivan said. "But if you're going to feel it, shouldn't you take off your shoes and socks and shirt and shorts for me, too?"
"Okay." Johnny quickly stripped and then scampered up to the big man
Ivan's eyes feasted hungrily on the sight of the bare-naked boy now running to him. There is a grace and beauty that belongs only to the very young, their flesh and muscles are still brimming with the primal energy that keeps the very cells of their body not only in replacing their dead brothers, but in increasing their number. Most of them are brand new, children themselves, ready to grow and in their own turn, create grandchilden and great-grandchildren. This ability gives a child a inner glow only those in the entertainment industry can understand, a child before the bright lights of the theatre are never put into makeup, they need no makeup, for the lights of mere mortals cannot dim the lights that burn within them. The arms and legs were thin but that was only the result of his immaturity, the muscles were there and as he moved, they flexed and bulged and sang of new life, new joy, new, new, new! That energy was what made the boy so enticing, the thought that this was innocence incarnate, the joy this boy would feel when he awakened the sexual nature of mankind in his new-born flesh, caused the child to groan and moan with a joy that even his buoyant nature had not yet discovered.
Johnny ran up to Ivan and reached up for the fat bulging muscle. His hands clamped above it, but the circle of his slender arms was barely big enough, he ended up with his head plastered against the side of it.
Ivan raised his arm and Johnny whooped as he rose up with it, hanging easily from the arm which didn't strain the big man at all with his hundred pounds of boyish weight. His legs thrashed about and Ivan laughed at the boy's antics. "I am the tree, and you are the monkey!" he laughed.
"Yeah, I'm the monkey, ook-ook-ook-ook-ook!" Johnny crowed.
There it was, the exuberance of nature itself, waiting for him to feast upon it. "Can you swing up and sit there, little monkey?" Ivan stuck his arm straight out, the muscular bicep shrank only slightly, whereas a regular man's would have gone flat. He swung a leg up, and scrambled up to sit on the arm like it was a tree branch. He perched on the bicep and Ivan's arm curled back up to leave the boy perched on the bicep.
Johnny straddled the powerful arm and his hands swarmed eagerly over the man's shoulder and upper chest and back, he could just reach Ivan's far nipple with his fingertips of his right hand, and he twiddled and tweaked the sturdy nub the size of a pea, winning a small grunt from Ivan's lips.
Damn, yes, it felt so good, having a boy in his arms once again. This time he would do it right, this time he would nurture the child, give pleasure as well as take it. With Frank, it had been too much, the hunger had overwhelmed him. He'd always thought (he didn't know, it could have been mere coincidence that the family moved suddenly the next day) that he must have frightened Frank in his lovemaking, even though the boy crooned in his ecstasy and shuddered with climax after climax as Ivan fucked him. No mistakes this time, Ivan would keep mystery as well as joy in his repertoire of seduction. Johnny's hand wandered from Ivan's thick nub to the chest. The fur was thick and warm and soft, and stroking it was much like stroking a short-haired cat, he could feel the rippling muscles underneath. The back was less coated and the hairs only tickled the edges of Johnny's hand and arm as he fondled the strong muscles of the shoulder that made a powerful triangle there. Ivan's spine was fully buried and protected under these muscles, the skin making only a slight dimple at the centerline down from the neck. As he rubbed, his own body was rubbing his prick against the gigantic bicep now bending the reclining lad into a curved shape, and the boy's hips made small thrusts he hoped the large man wouldn't notice.
Ivan almost purred like a large feline at the boy's touches, which were driving the large man to insanity with the pleasure. Yet...control, he must keep control. "Nice. Very nice." Ivan said. The man tickled the boy's outer thigh with one big finger. Yes, he knew about the little dong sliding like a hot piston shaft over his bicep.
Johnny wriggled his way back into a sitting position, and the finger strode purposefully around to his inner thigh. "Higher." Johnny urged, his little prick now only a bare four inches from the questing digit, hard and erect like a single tiny chess pawn lost from a set.
Ivan started to protest, then laughed in the raw joy of release, this boy was now his, he could nurture this bond into many, many more times like this. For the same reason, he could be himself with this child, he was safe here, safe. "For you, my little friend, I will do it. But you can't ever tell anyone about this, either."
Johnny did a motion at his closed lips with his fingers (my lips are zipped!), and Ivan chuckled, lowered his arm so Johnny could jump safely to the floor. Johnny stared eagerly at the thick brush of pubic hair, all black-black with just a few gray hairs, the massive dong hanging down halfway to the man's knees now, and it was nice and fat and semi-hard.
"Whoa, that's big." Johnny oozed.
"It's one of my favorite muscles." Ivan said. "And that's its normal size. I shrink it when I am wearing shorts like I did today. I can make it really small. See?" The cock shrank down to where it was a mere stub and thin as well. Johnny's own prick, just on the cusp of puberty, was bigger. "And it gives me no problems by poking out on me when I bend over."
"Okay. But can you make it bigger?"
Ivan appeared to consider that while his cock grew back to "normal size." "I don't think I've ever tried that. But maybe if someone were to rub it a while, it might warm up and grow by itself?" He cocked an insolent eyebrow at Johnny.
Johnny snickered. "I haven't done that since I was seven." That had been with a good friend who had moved away when he was seven, leaving the boy alone and dealing with urges his young brain could not comprehend.
"Do you still remember how?"
"Oh, yeah, I remember real good." Johnny reached out and grasped the huge prick. Even before Johnny touched it, it was firm and stiff, and Johnny gave it some happy strokes. It was amazing how much more fun it was to jerk a man's cock instead of a little boy. You could use more than your thumb and forefinger! He got to use his entire hand on Ivan!
"Ah, ah, ah!" Ivan gasped. "I think it's grown all it can by itself. You want to see how much bigger I can make it grow now?" He didn't have much choice about this, if he didn't keep his concentration, his cock was going to grow huge all by itself, another reason he'd had so little sexual experience until now.
"Yeah." Johnny gazed raptly at the huge organ. As he watched, it swelled and reached out. It had started at respectable length, but now it grew in girth as well as length, a foot, two feet, three feet, four feet! Wow, it was nearly as long as Johnny was tall.
Ivan's legs spread to give the huge prong room to fit his nuts (which had also grown, Johnny now saw) between them, and he put his hands on his waist on either side. "There it is, little monkey. Want to give it a ride?" He was going to get one anyhow, but Ivan would let the boy think it was his own idea.
"Yeah!" Johnny enthused and Ivan reached out his hands. Johnny reached out his own and Ivan lifted him by grabbing Johnny's wrists and lifting him up. Johnny's body brushed the head of the prick as he rose up, and a gush of precome smeared the lad as he rose, leaving a wide swath of slippery man-juice on his entire body from nipple-height to his crotch.
Then he was sitting on the fat cock and he yodeled out in a game he hadn't played in a number of years. "Giddy-up, horsey, giddy-up!" He crowed, rocking back and forth. His head only came up as high as the man's chest, the large nipples almost brushed both ears at once.
As Johnny rocked, the thick skin around the shaft slid about on the shaft beneath it, and Ivan gasped and moaned. "Yes, yes, my little monkey friend, ride the horse for me, ride it faster, faster, the enemy is close behind, ride for your life, ride for your life!" The feel of the boy's body straddling his manhood was a joy he'd never imagined, it was like masturbation and it was like fucking, with the best of both activities and none of their worst features. Softer than a hand and none of the pain to the passive of the anal penetration...heaven without hell!
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, giddy-up!" Johnny loved the feel of that warm velvet-like cockskin beneath his own nuts, it was like getting a soft massage from a warm, warm cloth!
"Oh, oh, I need to sit down!" Ivan gasped. He waddled backwards and that put him in a position to sit on the couch, and he sat, sprawling, and Johnny slid down the shaft to sit on Ivan's lower abdomen.
The large cock, though was still between his legs and it was standing upright, right where a boy could hug the thick thing. He did so, grasping it in both arms and holding onto it. Ivan groaned in increasing passion and Johnny began to jerk the huge pud, moving his arms up and down to slide the thick cockskin up and down the steel-hard shaft. As Johnny moved Ivan's prick with his arms, Ivan moaned, then louder and he gasped out, "Oh, oh, Johnny, I'm coming, I'm coming!" Orgasm was clawing at his brain like an eagle that had landed on its prey.
"Yeah, shoot it, shoot it!" Johnny knew about "coming," Ivan was about to squirt out some hot white juice. This would be interesting.
And it was, though never had Johnny expected this. A huge cock with huge nuts, it produced a huge amount of spunk. More than a half-gallon of jizz flew out in the first spurt alone and it splattered Johnny on his head like it had been aimed. The second wad landed on his left shoulder, the third on his back to the right, the fourth flowed out to coat his front left chest. Thick and cohesive, the wads didn't drip so much as they oozed slowly, Johnny found his entire forehead, eyes, cheeks, nose and chin covered in spooge. Only his nostrils remained open, he could breathe, but could not see, and the hot spunk covered him slowly from the top of his head down to his crotch. He was a boy wearing a sperm-hoodie!
"Ohhh!" Johnny breathed. "Wowwww!"
"Oh, oh, Johnny, that was so good, such a good little monkey for me." Ivan breathed, panting heavily. He felt a huge sense of relief at his orgasm, and felt it turning into solicitous concern for his young partner. "But you are now a mess, are you not? We must clean you off."
The big hand rubbed over Johnny's face, the palm carried a large glob of the spunk away with it. "But where can I put it. Maybe we can put it in here, maybe?" The man offered the palm to Johnny. "Can you lick up the hot pudding for me?" he offered. To see the boy feed on his spunk would be a delight of mind akin to the delight of climax gave the body.
"Yeah." Johnny's tongue lapped at the hand, and Ivan felt the bond between them grow in this act of sharing. "Hey, this tastes good. Kind of like meaty pudding. A little salty, but nice." Those words to Ivan were like an act of marriage, much as the Chinese marriage ceremony (among many others) had a ceremony of drinking from the same bowl of rice wine.
"Yes, it is nice." Ivan said. "And there is much more to feed you with." He continued lifting the oversized load in small packets up to Johnny to feed on. The boy fed greedily on the offering, for all of it tasted like Ivan in liquid form, and what would be more natural than that. He was young, he was gay, and this was fluid male ecstasy.
Johnny finished the final bit of fluid feasting some time later and regarded Ivan's prick. It had shrunk again to its "normal" size. "Ivan?"
"Yes, my little monkey?"
"I was wondering if you could, maybe, teach me how to suck and how to be fucked?"
Ivan smiled. "I was hoping you liked me enough to learn that. I think I am ready enough to perform for you again, if you would like to try with me."
Johnny's face split open in a grin! "Boy, would I!"
"Then let us begin. We will take it simply, for you would not need to actually suck upon a huge cock." He spread his legs when Johnny crawled out of his lap and his prick was stiffening.
Johnny spent some time sucking on the fat dong, it was a good size for a practice gay boy to experiment with, and he soon learned a good bit about how to please a man with his mouth. But like any first-time cock-sucker, he soon tired.
"Now I think you would like to learn about being fucked." Ivan said. "Do not worry, you know what to do with your mouth now, you will become better with time and practice. But let me now use my special abilities to give you the joy of taking a man's penis from the other direction." Ivan raised Johnny by helping him to his feet, then said, "I shall start with you with my penis being smaller than it is now, and thinner." His man-sized penis shrunk to a length of some five inches and its girth was much more slender than even a man bearing such a size's prick would usually be, more like a finger than a prong. He would be gentle with this boy, given him pleasure no matter the cost to himself. He'd released the greater amount of his animal passion in his first explosion, this second one, it would be one of mind as well as body.
"Now, we shall lubricate it and you can try taking it." Ivan let Johnny rub his still-hard but shrunken-sized dong with fuck oil and then used his enhanced strength in his arms and hands and chest to lift the boy up with hands under the boy's buttocks, and lowered him gently onto his hard prong.
Johnny gasped when the glans kissed his anus, but the lubrication and the smaller size made it slip inside easily enough. When it was fully buried in Johnny's ass, Ivan said, "Now we move you up and down slowly, so you can enjoy it."
He did this, and as the boy's bowel's resistance eased and the boy moaned in pleasure as the cockhead kissed his prostate, Ivan smiled and said, "Now I slowly increase the size for you."
He did it in slow increments, and after some fifteen minutes of this, his cock was back to its normal size. Ivan informed Johnny of this and said, "Now we shall give you even more pleasure by making it even bigger."
The muscled Ivan wielded Johnny's body easily and without visible effort, Johnny kept being bounced up and down and Ivan increased the size of his cock more and more. Johnny's reaction to this was to find the pressure, and thus the pleasure, on his prostate to be even more and more intense.
"Now my cock is the size of a man's fist and forearm inside of you, my little monkey boy." Ivan breathed. "Am I hurting you, my lovely monkey?" Oh, God, let the boy say no, if he said yes, Ivan would retreat, but it would be like Napoleon's forces retreating from Moscow, a defeat from which he may never recover.
"No, no!" Johnny gasped. "Feels good. More, more, please, more!"
"As you ask." Ivan agreed in a growing sense of glory. He and this boy were one. His cock grew more and more, and as it did, Johnny only moaned and then howled and orgasm shook the boy hard. Ivan's cock was now some seven or eight inches in diameter, and the length was well over two feet in length, and he knew that the dong was buried well inside the boy's rectum and large intestine. His movements had the boy's prostate gland well mashed and every motion stroked it endlessly.
Climax struck Ivan like a club and he could only warn, he could not delay. "Oh, oh, I come now, I.... AH-AH-AH, HAHH-UHHHHH!"
Again the huge globs of spunk pumped into the boy's bowels, the pulsing pud rippled Johnny's prostate which threw the boy into a second immediate orgasm, and this time the boy squirted a feeble load of white jizz. The warm fluid splatted on Ivan's stomach and he treated this as the honor it was; he had given this boy what may well be his first real orgasm. Johnny was shaking and shuddering, and his cries of delight were wrung from the boy who was helpless in his sexual thrall.
When they were done, Ivan held Johnny until the boy was again breathing normally. "And I am still deep within you." he murmured to the lad. "Shall I pull it out for you now, or would you like it shrunken down first?"
"I want to feel it all the way out." Johnny said without hesitation.
"As you will." Ivan lifted the boy up and as he did, the huge rush of his spooge gushed out of the boy's ass. It covered Ivan's legs and groin and lower stomach.
Johnny, left standing in front of Ivan by Ivan's powerful hand saw the bounty and knelt to quickly lick greedily at the fresh supply of warm jizz. This time he was able to go a much more thorough job, even sucking at the hairs on Ivan's legs and crotch to cleanse them as well as could be.
When they were done, Ivan carried Johnny into his bathroom and they bathed together, Johnny held by the strong man's arms and washed as if he were a baby sharing its daddy's shower.
Done, he dressed and, after a hasty but sincere kiss on Ivan's lips, he raced back to his home.
Home and in his room, he laid down on his bed. He was awfully tired after that marathon sex session. Ideas about lovemaking and muscle men danced through his eleven-year-old brain. He tried to think of what games he and Mr. Slotski could play tomorrow, but he fell sound asleep before he could come up with any.
Outside his window and in the backyard next door, the big man returned to work on his garden. Every so often, he looked over at the boy's bedroom and smiled, his muscles shining in the soon-to-be-setting sun, like the golden pillars of Paradise.
He may or may not go to Sweethaven, but he knew this much. Sweethaven may be a sanctuary for him, but no place without Johnny could be his home any longer. He telephoned Lukas.
Lukas would need to know that for him, Sweethaven now had to be a two-person proposition.