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Related article: Eleven-and-a-half: A Fantasy Of Great Length by Ray WilderChapter 14: FlashbackThis is a work of fiction. All the characters, events and locations portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, events or locations is purely coincidental.Copyright � 1996. All rights, implicit or implied, except for distribution by this archive and personal use by the individual downloading the file, are reserved. Inquiries regarding publishing rights for this book should be directed to: raywildaol.com======================================== Arnold found Mr. Ridell in his office in the company of a staggeringly beautiful woman. She actually was not much older than Arnold, only twenty or twenty-one at the most, but at his age those two or three years made a great deal of difference. She was dressed in a tight fitting blouse and skirt which hugged the contours of her torso, leaving little to imagine regarding the dimensions of the body beneath. Her hair was the color of straw; long and silken. It was gathered behind her head by a band and then cascaded down her back and shoulders. Her face was diamond shaped, with broad cheekbones and a strong chin. Her nose had that line which many an ancient Greek sculptor had captured and set as the standard for plastic surgeons for centuries to come. All these things, and other more subtle effects, such as the long, beaded earrings which hung seductively at her neck, served as a pleasant introduction to the rest of her body. Arnold could tell right away the woman was involved with body building. The way her neck sloped out to finely developed trapezius muscles, gracefully flowing down to her nicely defined deltoids was a sure sign that this woman had more than a casual interest in the sport. He stood in the doorway and tried very hard to remember what he had come down here for. She, on the other hand, guessed in a moment what the boys predicament was; at least the one he had so recently been concerned about dealing with. She and Mr. Ridell had been discussing Arnold's plight, a subject which everyone in the school who had an ear for it knew about. Mr. Ridell had figured something like this would happen. He just didn't think it would be so severe. He was surprised to see Arnold so soon; there were still fifteen minutes of class time remaining. He introduced him to the young lady, whose name was Samantha, Sam for short, and then inquired as to the reason for his early arrival. Arnold didn't feel comfortable talking about it in front of the young lady but Mr. Ridell, thinking it had something to do with the raging hard-on which Arnold was not even bothering to disguise, informed him that Sam could be trusted completely in any matter Arnold wished to discuss with him. Arnold then related to them a quick rundown of the day's events, trying very hard to find a way of referring to the condition of his cock without being too offensive. As he reached the point in his story where he had excused himself from his eighth hour class and taken refuge in the second floor bathroom Sam's eyes started to widen along with the distance between her legs. Arnold tried to convey his sense of urgency regarding the condition of his cock but Mr. Ridell seemed distressingly unconcerned. He informed Mr. Ridell that going so long without cumming had been a bad idea. Mr. Ridell winked confidentially at Sam and told Arnold to go get dressed for his work-out. Arnold was puzzled by Mr. Ridell's cavalier attitude regarding his difficulties, but complied. He went to the locker room and opened his locker to get out his gym clothes but instead of his regular gym shorts with the name of the high school printed on one leg he found a pair of deep red posing trunks like the ones he had seen the men in the muscle magazines wearing. His jock strap and old T-shirt were missing as well. There were, in their place, a device Lolita Top 100 that looked like a jock Lolita Top 100 strap but which had a much smaller cup to it and a T-shirt with a very different kind of cut. He could only figure that Mr. Ridell had somehow slipped these items in and he was meant to wear them. He took off his shirt and undershirt and put on the new one. It clung to his body and, although it was skin tight and gave the appearance of being too small, was wonderfully flexible and expandable. He especially liked the way the sleeves hugged the tops of his shoulders, accenting his deltoids. The large mirror at the end of the row of lockers revealed a physique which, while he knew it was his, seemed as foreign and impressive as his swollen, sex-starved cock. Which brought up a problem: How was he going to get his enormous erection into the trunks and jockstrap-like device provided him? He put on the thong (it called itself that on a little tag on the inside, 100% cotton, made in Thailand), and pulled it up around his thighs. He tried bending his cock down but it was too hard. It only made it hurt more. Then he noticed the strap that went around the waist seemed to have an expandable pocket built in. He laid his cock into it and it fit perfectly. He then realized that the cup was only for his balls. He slipped on the posing trunks and found they were constructed along the same lines, though the pocket was not as pronounced. He wondered if everyone in Thailand was as hung as he was. After donning his white socks and gym shoes he checked himself over in the mirror. Something was wrong. The shoes and socks looked completely out of place. Then he remembered that all the men he had seen in Mr. Ridell's magazines had been barefoot. He removed the shoes and socks and re-examined himself in the mirror. The effect was devastating. He tried several poses Lolita Top 100 like the ones he had seen "the other Arnold" do and several that Mr. Ridell had worked with him on. The shirt flowed and stretched with his every move, caressing his body and allowing every detail of his musculature to be seen. As he turned sideways to check out what it looked like from behind the thick tube of his cock stood out, pointing the way to his well-defined ass. The new shorts rode high up his cheeks, leaving the view of his gluts almost completely uninhibited. As he flexed his biceps the arms of the shirt stretched to accommodate the increased girth of his arm and accented the break between bicep and deltoid, a look that could only be described as raw sex. The front of the shirt plastered itself to his abdomen and the developing striations of muscle clearly showed through. His pecs were cradled by the material which formed itself around the entire belly of the muscle, pointing out, in sharper relief than if he had been unclothed, that wonderful break where flat stomach and Lolita Top 100 mountainous pectoral joined like The Rockies and the great plains at Denver. To say this new outfit made Arnold feel good would be an understatement. The only thing that worried him was how was he going to walk out into the gym looking like this with Sam there. Arnold was still a virgin. He had had a couple of blow jobs and lots of older women had come on to him and he knew an awful lot about sex from talking to Mr. Ridell and some of his classmates, but the bottom line was that the boy had never actually had his cock inside a woman's vagina. He was about to turn eighteen years old, and while that may have been long past the age of awakening for some of his friends, he had maintained a certain distance from members of the opposite sex. All his experiences with two people having sex involved his parents. And his parents didn't make love, they used sex to control each other and himself. So when, on numerous occasions, the opportunity had presented itself, Arnold had found his instinct had been to stay clear. Mr. Ridell was aware of this fact and had treated Arnold's virginity with respect and dignity. He knew the moment would have to be right to initiate the boy into the pleasures of joining with another person and he wanted to help Arnold enjoy and grow with the experience. Several years before Arnold began attending classes at the high school there had been a young girl whose family life was as messed-up as Arnold's. Worse, actually. She had been raped by an uncle at the ripe old age of twelve and in her sophomore year in high school, had been forced to have oral sex with her older brother while her drunken father looked on. Her mother, upon learning of the father's involvement with this episode had gone out, purchased a small hand gun, come home and shot the father in the head whilst he lay in a drunken stupor on the living room couch. She tried to shoot the son as well but the son wrestled the gun away from her, shooting himself in the crotch in the process. The mother, sensing the justice in this, left the boy to bleed, got in the car, drove off for parts unknown and was never heard from again. The brother recovered, except for the fact that he now pissed through a surgically implanted plastic tube that never, never gets hard, even in the coldest weather. The girl graduated from high school with a A- average and was now attending a prominent university in the midwest. Actually at that very moment she was sitting in Mr. Ridell's office awaiting the return of the beautiful young man she had just seen go off to the locker room. Mr. Ridell had taken her under his wing during her years at high school, guiding her through the same course of physical awakening and self-growth he was presently exposing Arnold to. In return he had only asked for the pleasure of enjoying her developing physique in its unclothed state in a shower that had been thoughtfully provided with a soap dispenser. She had given this boon unconditionally, as she had given him her trust. The two of them maintained contact and when he learned she would be returning at the end of the semester for the summer, he had asked if she would be interested in meeting a most unusual young man. Trusting him completely, she agreed and he arranged for her to come to visit the school on Arnold's last day of class. Mr. Ridell knew the two of them would hit it off immediately. He had no doubt that Sam was the best person he could think of to initiate Arnold. Sam knew this was why she had been asked here. She had been a little apprehensive, but trusted that Mr. Ridell would know the right thing to do. When she first saw Arnold walk into the room, confused and somewhat agitated, she knew her faith in Mr. Ridell had not been misplaced. This hunk. This stud. This beautiful boy with a body developed far beyond its eighteen years and a cock that was nothing short of awe-inspiring, made her cunt juices start to flow. Mr. Ridell sensed her interest immediately. His instincts had been right. He and Sam talked for a few more minutes after Arnold went to the locker room. Sam then said she was going to the girls room to change into her work-out clothes. She picked up her gym bag and trotted out the door. Mr. Ridell watched after her, recalling her sumptuous, well shaped body covered with soapy lather after an intense exercise session. In the intervening years her figure had filled out as she maintained her interest in body building. Under that tight fitting outfit was a body able to make his young friend, Arnold, cum in his new posing trunks. He wondered how the boy was faring; whether he had figured out how to get his big cock into that thong he had supplied. If he went into the locker room right now he was certain he would see the boy posing in front of the big mirror at the end of his row of lockers. Several minutes after Sam departed Arnold returned from the locker room wearing his new outfit. He had indeed been able to figure out where to put everything. Mr. Ridell's own cock leapt in his pants at the sight before him. The boy had a sheepish grin on his face as he tried to nonchalantly cover up the massive cock which wrapped around his right hip. He told Mr. Ridell "Thanks very much for the great present," to which Mr. Ridell answered that seeing him in it was all the thanks he needed. Arnold inquired as to the whereabouts of Sam. He was told that Sam, who was obviously into body building herself, was in the other locker room getting changed. She would be taking Arnold through his routine this afternoon, offering her own advice as to what he should do to improve his physique and exercise habits. At that moment Sam appeared at the door to the office dressed in her own version of the outfit Arnold had on. Mr. Ridell recognized it as the set he had given her when she graduated from high school. He remembered sitting in the girl's locker room as he always did, watching her as she undressed, then opening her locker to find this outfit. The first time she had it on it fit like a glove. Several years had passed and many tons of iron had been lifted. The effect of the outfit now was staggering. Her body had been toned and shaped, sculpted and tanned until every muscle and bone fit together in a unified picture that inspired thoughts of unbridled sex. Sam understood what was to happen here and knew that she had a debt to repay Mr. Ridell. She was most willing to participate. This wonderful man had saved her life. If it hadn't been for him she would surely have resorted to drugs, alcohol or suicide. She turned to Arnold who was immobile. Thunderstruck. The sound of a deep moan began to fill the room. A great, deep rumbling that seemed to start down in the depths of his groin, traveled up through his massive chest and flooded out of his throat. His right hand involuntarily reached for his huge cock, already aching from being hard for the last twelve hours. Sam knew what was going to happened and didn't want to be left out. She pushed Arnold back into the chair she had been sitting in. He was totally under her control. She knew the effect this outfit on this body would have on the boy, and Mr. Ridell had warned her that he would probably be pretty horny. She reached down into the side of his posing trunks and expertly extracted his massive tool. As she touched it he convulsed and moaned; she feared he might pass out. Her hands wrapped around the magnificent shaft and she pulled it to her. Cum-juice was already leaking out of the slit and she gently lapped it up with her tongue. This drove the boy completely over the edge and his hips thrust up off the chair. Sam parted her lips and slipped the head and as many inches of the shaft as she could manage into her mouth. He grabbed the top of her head with both hands and begged her not to stop. The taste of his juice thrilled her and she began sucking the huge organ. She knew she wouldn't have to wait long, this young boy was so horny the only thing she was afraid of was drowning in the torrent of cum she knew was about to come rocketing up that shaft, blasting itself against the back of her throat. She hoped she could swallow fast enough. A quick glance over at Mr. Ridell assured her that all was going as he had planned. If he was able to orchestrate this event as well as he had her return from the edge of insanity, then this afternoon's activities held the promise of an event the proportions of which were represented by the enormous cock she held between her hands. She started to stroke the long shaft. His response was in the form of a vibration that began somewhere at the base of his spine and ended up consuming his entire being. Within moments his hips were bucking, ramming the head of his cock against the back of Sam's throat. The moan became more persistent, louder, savage. Suddenly he stopped. He reached down and gripped the arms of the chair as his back arched up into the air almost dislodging Sam from her perch atop his glistening tool. He froze for a moment and then a loud scream, coming from his powerful chest, rang out through the room. Sam's mouth was suddenly filled with a cock that seemed to have doubled in diameter. It was all she could do just to hang on. Then the flood gates opened and load after load of cum shot up the shaft. She could actually feel it travel past her clasping hands. He came and came and came and came and she thought for a moment that she wouldn't be able to swallow fast enough and still he came. The shout diminished into a loud grunt that accompanied each spurt. Then he slowly lowered his hips to the chair, pausing occasionally to shoot another load of cum up the shaft into Sam's waiting, eager mouth. Sam continued to suck on the giant cock, milking each precious drop. She ran one of her hands down the shaft and began to gently massage his bloated balls. This brought one or two more hurtles of semen to the top of his organ and then the mighty erection began, thankfully and finally, to subside. Sam continued to hold his cock until it reached a state where it could be easily placed in the side of the thong. This she did with loving care, making sure that it was straight. If she was going to do a work-out session with this stud she didn't want to be distracted while he constantly had to readjust his massive schlong. She looked over at Mr. Ridell. He was very happy. He hadn't actually planned on the afternoon starting out this way. He had hoped to save the more intimate aspects of the day for the end. This was going to put a completely different cast on their relationship as work-out partners. Arnold was not completely sure of what had just happened. He knew his cock felt much better, his balls hurt, he was sitting instead of standing, having no idea when that state had changed, and there was this incredible woman kneeling between his legs looking like the cat that had just eaten the canary. On a scale of one to ten he thought of a number with a whole lot of zeros behind it. Slowly he returned to reality and it finally occurred to him that he had just shot an amazing amount of cum into this woman's mouth. "Thank. . . thank you, Sam. Thanks." Tears started to well up in her eyes. The dear, sweet boy. Arnold thought that something was desperately wrong and was on the verge of tears himself. Sam noticed his distress and reached up with both hands, placed them on his cheek and pulled his face to her. The feeling of her hands on his face was startlingly pleasant. He allowed his face to be drawn forward. When their faces were finally a few inches away Sam raised up on her knees and kissed him gently on the forehead. She pulled back, still cradling his face in her hands and smiled a smile that sent a wave of warmth coursing through his body. "You feel like a little exercise, wimp?" "What do you mean?" She pulled him up out of the chair with both hands and dragged him out of the office into the gym. "Come on, Stud. No pain, no gain, as they say." Arnold willingly followed. Of course, he would have willingly followed even if she had been dragging him into a vat of boiling oil. For the next two-and-a-half hours Sam put him through the most grueling, tortuous, demanding, excruciating, wonderful work-out he had ever had. She worked with him on technique, showing him how to get the most Lolita Top 100 out of each exercise, how to make that one last rep really count. She would do a particular set and then Arnold would do it, attempting to incorporate what he learned from her. Sometimes he was successful, sometimes not. But there was never a sense of one being better than the other. They both moved through the experience with a joy that surpassed anything either of them had ever participated in. Several times during the course of the afternoon they took short breaks, heading over to the drinking fountain or just laying back on one of the floor mats. During one of those moments Sam turned to look at the young man (he was no longer a boy in her eyes) lying next to her on the mat, resting, his eyes closed, unaware of her studying gaze. He was beautiful, that was certain. His body, his face, his cock. But as he lay there, all the stress and problems of the world outside the gym far from his mind, she saw the beauty of the person within. It was almost unbearable. She wanted desperately to reach over and pull him to her, to rock him in her arms and let him know that, if he was able to take what Mr. Ridell had given him and use it to build a life with, everything would end up, on the average, a positive experience. The aching, the longing that she was feeling was made even more poignant by the knowledge that she would never see this darling young man again after today. She knew, as did Mr. Ridell, that if she remained in his life, him bonded to her through the experience of today, he would never have the desire to reach out to life and drink it all in. It would be very easy for him to fall into a kind of lust/love with her and never grow up. This would be a fatal mistake and would deprive the world of his possibilities. All these things she had learned from the wonderful man sitting over by the door to his office, himself watching their activities, basketball firmly in place. She knew Arnold would grow to understand what would happen today and Lolita Top 100 end up, with the right guidance and a whole lot of luck, as sure of his place in the world as she was. She raised herself up on one elbow and studied his muscular frame. He was well on his way to developing a physique that women, and probably men, would lust after. Her eyes traveled down to his mid-section and then traced the outline of his cock as it curved away from her down his right side. "Hey, Stud? You pass out on me?" "I'm still here. Just thinking about stuff." "You know what's going to happen after we get done working out, don't you?" "Yeah." Arnold suspected that Mr. Ridell had probably set up this meeting between himself and Sam for other than purely altruistic reasons. He had been thinking about it and had come to the conclusion that this would be a great way to pop his cherry and pay Mr. Ridell back at the same time. "So what do you think?" Arnold paused for a second to form the words just right. "I think I want to get this body really pumped up and give our friend over there a show he'll never forget." He paused again. Then: "You know I'm a virgin?" "I suspected as much from your reaction earlier." She looked at his face, smooth, innocent. "You scared?" "A little, I think. I'm afraid I won't know what to do." "You just listen to your heart and pay attention to my reactions and I have a feeling both of us will have an experience we'll never forget." "I'm a little afraid that I'll hurt you." Again the sweetness of this man made her almost weep. "Like I said. Pay attention to my reactions and you'll do okay." He lay there for a few more seconds, processing that information. His brow wrinkled in heavy thought for a moment and then it relaxed. He had obviously come to some conclusion. What it meant to him, to her. . . she'd find out in a little while. She punched him in the upper arm and said, "Get your ass up, Stud. Time for chewing the fat, and other things, later. We got some serious sweatin' to do." He jumped to his feet with amazing quickness and grabbed her under her arms. Before she knew what was happening he had lifted her over his head, transferred one hand to the middle of her back and was one-arm pressing her into the air. Sam knew that if she struggled she could fall and hurt them both so she just relaxed and enjoyed the feeling. She wished she could see him doing this. She wanted to watch as his arm pumped up and down, the tricep and deltoid swelling with each rep. He did this ten times and then transferred her to his other arm, repeating the process. On his final rep he thrust her high in the air. She spun around quickly, her arms tight at her sides, and landed in his outstretched arms. He held her for a moment and then pulled her to him. Their lips met in a kiss that was deep and penetrating. It lasted several minutes and then he slowly set her down on her feet. She stared at him, dumbfounded, her head and heart reeling. Finally she got her breath back and asked, "Where the hell did you learn how to kiss like that?" "From you." Her eyebrows Lolita Top 100 raised. "I just paid attention to your reactions." He smiled at her with a boyish charm. "Race you up the ropes, no legs." He turned and sprinted across the gym floor to the thick ropes that hung from the ceiling of the gymnasium. She ran over and grabbed the other one. He counted three and up they went. Sam knew it would be a close one. He had much more strength than her, but she had the advantage of less weight. She closed her eyes and started to pull herself up the rope, hand-over-hand, her legs at right angles to her Lolita Top 100 torso. Her biceps began to burn about halfway up and she relished the feeling. She dared to open her eyes to check on Arnold's progress. Looking over to the other rope, he was nowhere to be seen. Had she left him completely in her dust? It seemed she had him beat. She reached the top of her rope and opened her eyes. He was hanging from the girder that the ropes were attached to, mere inches from her face. He gave her lips another long, lingering kiss and hand-over-handed back along the girder to his own rope. She was stunned. He grinned disarmingly at her and said, "The finish line is down there. See you at the club house." And with that he dropped down out of sight. She watched him until he reached the ground and was never certain that his hands had really touched the rope. "You look like a treed cat up there. You need someone to come rescue you?" She started down, her legs parallel to the floor, Lolita Top 100 her abdominal muscles standing out in full relief. She took several seconds for each hand-over-hand, savoring the luscious feel of her biceps as they became more and more pumped. When she reached the bottom of the rope she slowed even more, the strain showing on her brow, the sweat pouring down her neck, running between her breasts. She took a great deal of time straightening out her legs, slowly lowering them to the ground, her abdominals shaking with the effort. He stared at her, marveling in her muscular control. When her feet finally touched the ground she released the rope. Her breathing was deep. "If you fuck like you climb a rope, it's going to be a short afternoon." She watched the expression on his face as he puzzled out what she was really saying to him. She elaborated by saying, "The experience, whether it's an exercise or roll in the hay, demands attention to detail. Bench pressing four-hundred-fifty pounds ten times in thirty seconds isn't going to do you nearly as much good as pressing one hundred pounds ten times in two minutes. You don't get to enjoy the details and you can't make sure you're doing everything as well as you could." She could see by the look in his eyes he understood. He turned around, walked off for a second, assimilating the new information, and then returned. He walked up to her, looked her straight in the eye and whispered "I want you." She returned his intense gaze. "I want you." The tension between them grew until Mr. Ridell, sitting on the other side of the gym, could feel it. He knew they were both hot as hell and wondered what they were going to do about it. They turned towards him, took each other's hand and walked over to him. Without a word they each took one of his hands, pulled him up out of the chair, his basketball rolling down his lap and bouncing off across the floor, and led him to the boy's locker room.
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