Paul woke up that morning, as he did so many mornings lately, with vivid images from strange dreams still clouding his head. He lay in bed awhile longer, remembering the flashes of film-like scenarios, the snatches of feeling that still lingered clenched excitedly in his chest. Yes, it was another dream about his pet, Hercules. It was another dream about his great Anaconda. Paul reached between his legs under the blankets and massaged his raging hard-on.
Lathering his body in the shower, Paul was still aroused, as he closed his eyes under the hot spray of water to recall the dream. The power of Hercules always filled him with wonder. The snake was thick and powerful. Phallic, certainly, and Paul would never have argued that this contributed to his fascination, but there was more, surely. The slowly slithering being’s single-minded instinct to survive was admirable. The potential danger of the illegal snake was thrilling. And Hercules always seemed bigger, meaner, and more demanding of respect every time Paul saw him. In a suddenly remembered image from the dream, Paul was feeding the 25-foot snake. His heart raced, his whole body seemed to flex at once, and he orgasmed into the slick soapiness of his hands.
Toweling off in front of the steamed up mirror, Paul looked at his own foggy reflection while pretending he was seeing someone else. It was a game he played exceptionally well, this suspension of his own self to imagine another man before him. He could even do it when the mirror was clear. He could command his reflection to be the representation of many different types of men, but always in the same body. The man he looked at smiled back at him, and Paul enjoyed the familiarity the gleaming teeth implied. Through the blur, he could not yet tell if the man was handsome, but he was dark haired and tall, and he was immediately arresting because of his build. The man in the mirror, Paul admired, was very muscular. He was a bodybuilder. The man seemed to enjoy being admired, so he stood at attention for Paul, his shoulders back, his massive chest thrust forward, and his stomach clenched to display hard-won lean abdominals. The steam was clearing, and Paul could clearly see the man’s six-pack, lightly furrowed with hair. The trail of hair travelled up and spread beautifully across the man’s pecs, which now clearly displayed large brown nipples. The man raised his arms for a display of his large biceps, revealing also, trimmed but hairy armpits inside his broadly flared lats, and hugely bulked up triceps, which truly made his arms appear super-human. And yes, he was handsome, smiling confidently, perhaps arrogantly, but definitely handsome. Paul thought again of Hercules. His cock was once more erect.
“This is ridiculous.,” he muttered to himself now, letting the fantasy of the other man disappear, “I have to get to work.”
______________
Paul trained Mrs. Pierce (a plain woman, desperate to lose twenty pounds) for a full two-hour session, and then had another two-hour booking with the hyperactive Mr. Rowe (desperate to gain twenty pounds), who always sighed with either frustration or barely-concealed lust as he stared openly at his trainer’s physique. Paul’s next appointment, meanwhile, called in to cancel. He had the rest of the day to himself.
He changed out of his conservative trainer attire and stretched a tattered cotton tank over his torso. Paul then slipped his thick legs into similarly well-worn shorts that he’d trained in since college. He liked how snugly the fabric hugged his full jockstrap, also slightly yellowed with age, the elastic at the waist slightly rippled where strands of thin rubber had broken over time. When he went out on the gym floor, everyone had to look. He was just that magnificent. And as he trained, like a mad animal, he too admired the stranger in the mirror in front of him.
After his workout, Paul seldom took a shower right away. He liked his own smell. It was musky, manly, and very present. He imagined that some might take exception to his odour, but he didn’t care. Experience, however, proved that he did not repel anyone with his post-workout scent. He knew that women lingered to chat with him often, and he could tell that he was particularly provocative after an especially hard and sweaty workout. But Paul usually preferred to be alone after pushing himself so masochistically with the weights.
“I’m hitting the beach if anyone’s looking for me.” He informed the gym’s desk clerk as he marched by “I’ve got my cell.” But the receptionist knew the phone would be turned off. This was Paul’s time, and anyone who knew the amiable muscleman understood that he became almost darkly moody and solitary after a workout.
_________________
Paul jogged lightly for a while, enjoying the feeling of the hot sun on his skin. With a single, graceful motion, he peeled the sweat-wet wife-beater from his body, and sat in the sand by the water’s edge. He clutched his pecs with his right hand, collecting his running perspiration into the palm of his hand. He glanced at the little pool of moisture that winked back a spot of sunlight in his eyes. He raised his hand and smelled the manly perfume of his labour before pressing the wet palm to his mouth and then caress the line of his jaw with the aroma in his hand. He tasted the salt of his skin. It was good.
Paul was hungry. He was always famished after training, but he enjoyed the vulnerability of the sensation. He liked the craving of food because it always reminded him of Hercules. He remembered the fresh beef he threw to the snake just this morning… large chunks of crudely butchered animal that the snake just seemed to slowly inhale into itself. Paul always watched the giant Anaconda eat until the last morsel of meat was ingested.
“A steak would be nice right now.” he said, unaware that he’d even spoken aloud. A crash of surf replied without interest. Paul closed his eyes and shut out the world. The dream of the night before tantalized his thoughts.
“You local?”
The voice pulled Paul from his reverie.
Perhaps trying to be considerate by casting a shadow over Paul, the man who addressed him stood in line with the sun in complete silhouette. Still, when Paul opened his eyes, the streaks of light that framed the dark shape before him were blinding.
“Could you stand there?” Paul replied.
The bulk of the man stepped from in front of the light, up a couple of steps, and his body glistened, probably with tanning oil as he came into better view. Paul blinked, still slightly blinded, as his eyes adjusted into focus. The man who’d addressed him, he noted, was not unlike the man who smiled back at him in the bathroom this morning, and not unlike the man who trained opposite him in the mirror at the gym.
“Sorry. I thought I’d block the sun for you. Big as I am, I usually can.”
“Big as you are” Paul repeated.
“Well, big as we are, I guess. That’s why I wanted to ask if you’re from around here.” The man continued.
Yes they were very similar, Paul considered. They had the same colouring, similar height and build, and appeared to be about the same age. They were alike right down to the unshaven body hair and prominent nipples. And Paul was immediately attracted to the man… whom he sensed was, likewise, narcissistically attracted to him.
“I am. Live nearby, why?” Paul answered.
“I’m not local. I’m in town for a couple of job interviews, so I’ll be around for a week or so, maybe longer. Anyway, I’d like to find a decent gym while I’m in the area. I’m guessing you go to a decent gym.” The man explained smiling, that familiar smile that Paul already imagined he knew.
“I’m a trainer at a gym, in fact, just up the beach. It’s not a hard-core gym, but it’s well equipped, and you’re left alone. Hardly any of the clients even touch the free-weights, so no waiting.”
“Sounds perfect.” The man said.
There was an awkward pause. Paul was perhaps expected to offer more information about the gym, or maybe the man should have inquired further, but instead they just seemed to be giving each other’s bodies approving inspections. Paul rose to his feet and stood directly in front of the man, chest-to-chest, eye-to-eye. They both liked what they beheld in front of them.
“You live alone?” The man’s deep voice intoned quietly.
“I have a room-mate, but he’s no problem.” Paul answered.
“So there’s no problem.” The man said, breathing deeply.
“My place is just down the beach.” Paul offered.
“Lead the way.” The man murmured.
As they walked along the sand in a kind of electrically charged silence together, Paul recalled his dream. This was crazy, he thought to himself. This was completely impetuous and unplanned, but how strangely prophetic the dream now seemed. How its images commanded him to proceed. -And the magnificence of this stranger, this non-local, on his own, seeking to possibly move here, with no immediate plans or solid contacts… This great bodybuilder, who was so like him physically it was like staring at a mirror, aroused him completely. It was destined that they should meet. It was foretold in a dream.
___________________
In Paul’s small beach house, the men practically devoured each other with hungry kisses.
They fucked each other for nearly two solid hours. In Paul’s small bedroom, barely big enough to contain his king-size bed, a fan turned lazily on the ceiling, but did nothing to cool the heat of the powerful bodies that flexed and slowly wrestled in violent passion.
“You smell good.” The man said. He dragged his teeth clenched over Paul’s left nipple. Paul’s head was dizzily light and clouded at once. He could feel the man’s generous cock meat inside him, thrusting rhythmically, unhurriedly. “You taste good too.” The man said, languidly drawing his tongue over Paul’s heaving pecs, up his throat, and then covering Paul’s mouth in a deep kiss.
__________
How much time had passed?
The man awoke groggy but fully aroused. Paul’s mouth was busy, his tongue expertly licking his cock-head, then taking the man’s full thick shaft down his throat. The stranger had never been with anyone who gave better head than Paul, whose technique was perfectly tantalizing, masculinely aggressive, and hungry. Paul pulled away from the man’s crotch, kissed his stomach, lightly chewed each erect nipple in turn, and then kissed his mouth gently while his hands groped the man’s magnificent hairy chest.
“Hello” Paul whispered to him almost sheepishly.
“Hello yourself.” The man replied, “Sorry, did I fall asleep? I’ve got this headache.” And with that the man tried to reach up to massage his aching temple, only to discover that his hands were tied at his sides. “What the fuck?” The man’s voice was agitated, but he concealed any real feeling of alarm. Paul was very impressed.
“Just go with it.” Paul offered with an assuring smile. He went down on the man’s long thick cock once more, deep-throating it to the base of the shaft.
“Fuck yeahhh… you are the best cocksucker. You don’t have to tie me up to suck me off, but I guess the edgy stuff is hot.”
The man relaxed. He occasionally flexed his great muscles in controlled ecstasy. He knew he wanted to blow another hot load of cum down Paul’s hungry throat, but he didn’t want to rush it. So what if he was bound… he was feeling good.
“Ease off a second. I don’t want to cum just yet.” The man practically whispered, “Just kiss me.”
Paul and the man kissed for several minutes then, their tongues locked in strategies of dominance, breathing each other’s hot breath deeply into their lungs.
“So, you get off on bondage” the man stated, his question implied.
“Not really. This is the first time I ever tied a guy up.” Paul confessed.
“So, I pass out, exhausted, and you decide to get experimental?”
“Oh, you didn’t pass out on your own. I knocked you out.”
The man looked surprised “You could have just asked. I like to think I’m open-minded.”
“But I had to do it this way.” Paul stated without further explanation, and then suddenly gorged himself once more on the man’s monstrous cock.
The man enjoyed Paul’s expert sucking, but now he tested the knots that held him in place. His powerful arms strained heroically against the ropes. Paul watched, while he sucked, as the man’s veins became pumped with blood from the effort. He could not make out the expression on the man’s face because his thick slabs of pec meat blocked it from view. Likewise, tied down as he was, the man could not see Paul beyond the cleft of his own massive hairy chest.
The man was suddenly angry.
“What the fuck. Untie me, the game’s over.” He ordered.
“I’ll untie you soon. It’ll be over soon.” Paul cajoled him.
“And what is that, seran or rubber you have wrapped around my legs? It’s cutting off the circulation, so I can barely feel them anymore. Take it off.” The man sounded slightly afraid.
Paul didn’t want him to lose his courage. “You know what?” he announced with a sly smile, “I want you to cum now. Cum down my throat. Fill me up. I’m so hungry. Will you? Cum down my throat?”
Paul’s rugged face loomed back into view, and his hands again groped the man’s magnificent torso. The man flexed for Paul’s enjoyment. Then Paul himself struck an awe-inspiring double-biceps pose that momentarily took the man’s breath away.
“Fuuuck.”
“It’s like looking in a mirror, isn’t it?” Paul said flatly. “I’m every bit as built as you. And this is the best sex of your life, isn’t it.”
And then Paul’s voice was impressively commanding, “Now I want you to cum, one last time before it’s over. Cum inside me. Cum down my throat.”
“Yeah, let’s do this” The man agreed, “Suck me down. Take me all the way.” And he was wildly aroused at the flexing magnificence that held him prisoner.
Paul held the man’s cock gorged full-length in his throat, somehow pulsating on the thickness of the member, his teeth clenched gently at the base. The man exploded inside of him, and he took the river of hot cum right down into his belly. A second spurt of salty lava invaded his body, and with a third short jolt, it was over. He felt the man’s body twitch much as his own did after orgasm. It was finished.
Paul kissed the man deeply, urgently on the mouth as he slid a blade through the knots that held his wrists. The man reached up and held Paul in a powerful embrace.
“Phew,” the man joked, “I can die a happy man now!”
“Not so fast” Paul said taking on a similar humorous tone, “I don’t even know your name.”
The man kissed him again, deeply, before his reply.
“It’s Paul.”
“What a coincidence, so’s mine”
At that Paul stepped away from his human reflection to watch the rest of his dream unfold.
The man sat up to unbind his legs just in time to see his still erect cock sucked into the mouth of a giant snake. His powerful legs were also completely inside the creature, but so tightly constricted he could not move them. What he was seeing was so beyond his expectations that he didn’t know how to respond. In complete shock, the man was dumbstruck. Paul enjoyed noticing how the man’s natural fear was completely delayed. He just sat there, seemingly posed for an artist, this manly bodybuilder, with every muscle of his broad hairy torso instinctively clenched, staring down at a monster that already had him half-devoured.
“Hercules is an Anaconda. He’s eating you Paul. He’s been eating you since before you woke up. Just try to relax. It should be over soon. Does it hurt? I’ll tell you what I want to see. I want to see your massive body through his skin. Think you can flex for me when you’re inside him, Paul? I hope you’ll try. You both look so beautiful and powerful together. –Like in my dream. Don’t scream Paul.”__________________________________________________
"Like seeing the raw side of men. The basic instinct is so... basic. " - Max Marshal
MaxMarshal@hotmail.com
Lathering his body in the shower, Paul was still aroused, as he closed his eyes under the hot spray of water to recall the dream. The power of Hercules always filled him with wonder. The snake was thick and powerful. Phallic, certainly, and Paul would never have argued that this contributed to his fascination, but there was more, surely. The slowly slithering being’s single-minded instinct to survive was admirable. The potential danger of the illegal snake was thrilling. And Hercules always seemed bigger, meaner, and more demanding of respect every time Paul saw him. In a suddenly remembered image from the dream, Paul was feeding the 25-foot snake. His heart raced, his whole body seemed to flex at once, and he orgasmed into the slick soapiness of his hands.
Toweling off in front of the steamed up mirror, Paul looked at his own foggy reflection while pretending he was seeing someone else. It was a game he played exceptionally well, this suspension of his own self to imagine another man before him. He could even do it when the mirror was clear. He could command his reflection to be the representation of many different types of men, but always in the same body. The man he looked at smiled back at him, and Paul enjoyed the familiarity the gleaming teeth implied. Through the blur, he could not yet tell if the man was handsome, but he was dark haired and tall, and he was immediately arresting because of his build. The man in the mirror, Paul admired, was very muscular. He was a bodybuilder. The man seemed to enjoy being admired, so he stood at attention for Paul, his shoulders back, his massive chest thrust forward, and his stomach clenched to display hard-won lean abdominals. The steam was clearing, and Paul could clearly see the man’s six-pack, lightly furrowed with hair. The trail of hair travelled up and spread beautifully across the man’s pecs, which now clearly displayed large brown nipples. The man raised his arms for a display of his large biceps, revealing also, trimmed but hairy armpits inside his broadly flared lats, and hugely bulked up triceps, which truly made his arms appear super-human. And yes, he was handsome, smiling confidently, perhaps arrogantly, but definitely handsome. Paul thought again of Hercules. His cock was once more erect.
“This is ridiculous.,” he muttered to himself now, letting the fantasy of the other man disappear, “I have to get to work.”
______________
Paul trained Mrs. Pierce (a plain woman, desperate to lose twenty pounds) for a full two-hour session, and then had another two-hour booking with the hyperactive Mr. Rowe (desperate to gain twenty pounds), who always sighed with either frustration or barely-concealed lust as he stared openly at his trainer’s physique. Paul’s next appointment, meanwhile, called in to cancel. He had the rest of the day to himself.
He changed out of his conservative trainer attire and stretched a tattered cotton tank over his torso. Paul then slipped his thick legs into similarly well-worn shorts that he’d trained in since college. He liked how snugly the fabric hugged his full jockstrap, also slightly yellowed with age, the elastic at the waist slightly rippled where strands of thin rubber had broken over time. When he went out on the gym floor, everyone had to look. He was just that magnificent. And as he trained, like a mad animal, he too admired the stranger in the mirror in front of him.
After his workout, Paul seldom took a shower right away. He liked his own smell. It was musky, manly, and very present. He imagined that some might take exception to his odour, but he didn’t care. Experience, however, proved that he did not repel anyone with his post-workout scent. He knew that women lingered to chat with him often, and he could tell that he was particularly provocative after an especially hard and sweaty workout. But Paul usually preferred to be alone after pushing himself so masochistically with the weights.
“I’m hitting the beach if anyone’s looking for me.” He informed the gym’s desk clerk as he marched by “I’ve got my cell.” But the receptionist knew the phone would be turned off. This was Paul’s time, and anyone who knew the amiable muscleman understood that he became almost darkly moody and solitary after a workout.
_________________
Paul jogged lightly for a while, enjoying the feeling of the hot sun on his skin. With a single, graceful motion, he peeled the sweat-wet wife-beater from his body, and sat in the sand by the water’s edge. He clutched his pecs with his right hand, collecting his running perspiration into the palm of his hand. He glanced at the little pool of moisture that winked back a spot of sunlight in his eyes. He raised his hand and smelled the manly perfume of his labour before pressing the wet palm to his mouth and then caress the line of his jaw with the aroma in his hand. He tasted the salt of his skin. It was good.
Paul was hungry. He was always famished after training, but he enjoyed the vulnerability of the sensation. He liked the craving of food because it always reminded him of Hercules. He remembered the fresh beef he threw to the snake just this morning… large chunks of crudely butchered animal that the snake just seemed to slowly inhale into itself. Paul always watched the giant Anaconda eat until the last morsel of meat was ingested.
“A steak would be nice right now.” he said, unaware that he’d even spoken aloud. A crash of surf replied without interest. Paul closed his eyes and shut out the world. The dream of the night before tantalized his thoughts.
“You local?”
The voice pulled Paul from his reverie.
Perhaps trying to be considerate by casting a shadow over Paul, the man who addressed him stood in line with the sun in complete silhouette. Still, when Paul opened his eyes, the streaks of light that framed the dark shape before him were blinding.
“Could you stand there?” Paul replied.
The bulk of the man stepped from in front of the light, up a couple of steps, and his body glistened, probably with tanning oil as he came into better view. Paul blinked, still slightly blinded, as his eyes adjusted into focus. The man who’d addressed him, he noted, was not unlike the man who smiled back at him in the bathroom this morning, and not unlike the man who trained opposite him in the mirror at the gym.
“Sorry. I thought I’d block the sun for you. Big as I am, I usually can.”
“Big as you are” Paul repeated.
“Well, big as we are, I guess. That’s why I wanted to ask if you’re from around here.” The man continued.
Yes they were very similar, Paul considered. They had the same colouring, similar height and build, and appeared to be about the same age. They were alike right down to the unshaven body hair and prominent nipples. And Paul was immediately attracted to the man… whom he sensed was, likewise, narcissistically attracted to him.
“I am. Live nearby, why?” Paul answered.
“I’m not local. I’m in town for a couple of job interviews, so I’ll be around for a week or so, maybe longer. Anyway, I’d like to find a decent gym while I’m in the area. I’m guessing you go to a decent gym.” The man explained smiling, that familiar smile that Paul already imagined he knew.
“I’m a trainer at a gym, in fact, just up the beach. It’s not a hard-core gym, but it’s well equipped, and you’re left alone. Hardly any of the clients even touch the free-weights, so no waiting.”
“Sounds perfect.” The man said.
There was an awkward pause. Paul was perhaps expected to offer more information about the gym, or maybe the man should have inquired further, but instead they just seemed to be giving each other’s bodies approving inspections. Paul rose to his feet and stood directly in front of the man, chest-to-chest, eye-to-eye. They both liked what they beheld in front of them.
“You live alone?” The man’s deep voice intoned quietly.
“I have a room-mate, but he’s no problem.” Paul answered.
“So there’s no problem.” The man said, breathing deeply.
“My place is just down the beach.” Paul offered.
“Lead the way.” The man murmured.
As they walked along the sand in a kind of electrically charged silence together, Paul recalled his dream. This was crazy, he thought to himself. This was completely impetuous and unplanned, but how strangely prophetic the dream now seemed. How its images commanded him to proceed. -And the magnificence of this stranger, this non-local, on his own, seeking to possibly move here, with no immediate plans or solid contacts… This great bodybuilder, who was so like him physically it was like staring at a mirror, aroused him completely. It was destined that they should meet. It was foretold in a dream.
___________________
In Paul’s small beach house, the men practically devoured each other with hungry kisses.
They fucked each other for nearly two solid hours. In Paul’s small bedroom, barely big enough to contain his king-size bed, a fan turned lazily on the ceiling, but did nothing to cool the heat of the powerful bodies that flexed and slowly wrestled in violent passion.
“You smell good.” The man said. He dragged his teeth clenched over Paul’s left nipple. Paul’s head was dizzily light and clouded at once. He could feel the man’s generous cock meat inside him, thrusting rhythmically, unhurriedly. “You taste good too.” The man said, languidly drawing his tongue over Paul’s heaving pecs, up his throat, and then covering Paul’s mouth in a deep kiss.
__________
How much time had passed?
The man awoke groggy but fully aroused. Paul’s mouth was busy, his tongue expertly licking his cock-head, then taking the man’s full thick shaft down his throat. The stranger had never been with anyone who gave better head than Paul, whose technique was perfectly tantalizing, masculinely aggressive, and hungry. Paul pulled away from the man’s crotch, kissed his stomach, lightly chewed each erect nipple in turn, and then kissed his mouth gently while his hands groped the man’s magnificent hairy chest.
“Hello” Paul whispered to him almost sheepishly.
“Hello yourself.” The man replied, “Sorry, did I fall asleep? I’ve got this headache.” And with that the man tried to reach up to massage his aching temple, only to discover that his hands were tied at his sides. “What the fuck?” The man’s voice was agitated, but he concealed any real feeling of alarm. Paul was very impressed.
“Just go with it.” Paul offered with an assuring smile. He went down on the man’s long thick cock once more, deep-throating it to the base of the shaft.
“Fuck yeahhh… you are the best cocksucker. You don’t have to tie me up to suck me off, but I guess the edgy stuff is hot.”
The man relaxed. He occasionally flexed his great muscles in controlled ecstasy. He knew he wanted to blow another hot load of cum down Paul’s hungry throat, but he didn’t want to rush it. So what if he was bound… he was feeling good.
“Ease off a second. I don’t want to cum just yet.” The man practically whispered, “Just kiss me.”
Paul and the man kissed for several minutes then, their tongues locked in strategies of dominance, breathing each other’s hot breath deeply into their lungs.
“So, you get off on bondage” the man stated, his question implied.
“Not really. This is the first time I ever tied a guy up.” Paul confessed.
“So, I pass out, exhausted, and you decide to get experimental?”
“Oh, you didn’t pass out on your own. I knocked you out.”
The man looked surprised “You could have just asked. I like to think I’m open-minded.”
“But I had to do it this way.” Paul stated without further explanation, and then suddenly gorged himself once more on the man’s monstrous cock.
The man enjoyed Paul’s expert sucking, but now he tested the knots that held him in place. His powerful arms strained heroically against the ropes. Paul watched, while he sucked, as the man’s veins became pumped with blood from the effort. He could not make out the expression on the man’s face because his thick slabs of pec meat blocked it from view. Likewise, tied down as he was, the man could not see Paul beyond the cleft of his own massive hairy chest.
The man was suddenly angry.
“What the fuck. Untie me, the game’s over.” He ordered.
“I’ll untie you soon. It’ll be over soon.” Paul cajoled him.
“And what is that, seran or rubber you have wrapped around my legs? It’s cutting off the circulation, so I can barely feel them anymore. Take it off.” The man sounded slightly afraid.
Paul didn’t want him to lose his courage. “You know what?” he announced with a sly smile, “I want you to cum now. Cum down my throat. Fill me up. I’m so hungry. Will you? Cum down my throat?”
Paul’s rugged face loomed back into view, and his hands again groped the man’s magnificent torso. The man flexed for Paul’s enjoyment. Then Paul himself struck an awe-inspiring double-biceps pose that momentarily took the man’s breath away.
“Fuuuck.”
“It’s like looking in a mirror, isn’t it?” Paul said flatly. “I’m every bit as built as you. And this is the best sex of your life, isn’t it.”
And then Paul’s voice was impressively commanding, “Now I want you to cum, one last time before it’s over. Cum inside me. Cum down my throat.”
“Yeah, let’s do this” The man agreed, “Suck me down. Take me all the way.” And he was wildly aroused at the flexing magnificence that held him prisoner.
Paul held the man’s cock gorged full-length in his throat, somehow pulsating on the thickness of the member, his teeth clenched gently at the base. The man exploded inside of him, and he took the river of hot cum right down into his belly. A second spurt of salty lava invaded his body, and with a third short jolt, it was over. He felt the man’s body twitch much as his own did after orgasm. It was finished.
Paul kissed the man deeply, urgently on the mouth as he slid a blade through the knots that held his wrists. The man reached up and held Paul in a powerful embrace.
“Phew,” the man joked, “I can die a happy man now!”
“Not so fast” Paul said taking on a similar humorous tone, “I don’t even know your name.”
The man kissed him again, deeply, before his reply.
“It’s Paul.”
“What a coincidence, so’s mine”
At that Paul stepped away from his human reflection to watch the rest of his dream unfold.
The man sat up to unbind his legs just in time to see his still erect cock sucked into the mouth of a giant snake. His powerful legs were also completely inside the creature, but so tightly constricted he could not move them. What he was seeing was so beyond his expectations that he didn’t know how to respond. In complete shock, the man was dumbstruck. Paul enjoyed noticing how the man’s natural fear was completely delayed. He just sat there, seemingly posed for an artist, this manly bodybuilder, with every muscle of his broad hairy torso instinctively clenched, staring down at a monster that already had him half-devoured.
“Hercules is an Anaconda. He’s eating you Paul. He’s been eating you since before you woke up. Just try to relax. It should be over soon. Does it hurt? I’ll tell you what I want to see. I want to see your massive body through his skin. Think you can flex for me when you’re inside him, Paul? I hope you’ll try. You both look so beautiful and powerful together. –Like in my dream. Don’t scream Paul.”
"Like seeing the raw side of men. The basic instinct is so... basic. " - Max Marshal
MaxMarshal@hotmail.com
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