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Caribbean Cruise

By Josef Howard

It was an afternoon excursion, a few hours away from the small cruise ship. The ship’s crew was serving lunch on a private beach on a small island, and after lunch the crew had challenged the passengers to a game of volleyball -- winners to be served dinner that night by the losers.

I’d gone ashore to take some pictures of the island. Bored with my fellow passengers, I skipped lunch and wandered off into the trees to the side of the beach. The cruise had been a last minute decision I had come to regret. As far as I could tell, everyone but me was heterosexual. Most of them were over 50, except for a few twenty-somethings – the adult children of the ones over 50.

Photography was a hobby of mine. I carried my DSLR around my neck in hope that the picaresque island might be a good subject for landscapes.

A few yards away I discovered a cluster of thatch roofed concrete patios outfitted with hammocks and rough hewn furniture. The first few were empty, but in one of the hammocks a well-muscled shirtless man in shorts reclined, watching me like a cat staring out a window.

“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to snoop.” I held up the camera. “Just taking some vacation pictures.”

The reclining man brought a hand-rolled cigarette to his lips, sucked deeply and blew smoke into the air above his head. “You with the cruise ship?” he asked. I nodded. “Where you from?”

“California,” I said.

“I used to live there,” he volunteered. “Sold my houses, quit my job and traveled for a while before I bought this place. Wouldn’t go back for the world.”

As I walked closer to talk with him I noticed something else. It wasn’t just his muscles that were big, although even they were bigger than I first thought. The bunched up flesh in his crotch was obscenely distending his pants, and it was made all the more obvious by the way he let the thumb and forefinger of his free hand frame one side of the bulge.

Now, as intrusive as my behavior was, I couldn’t tear myself away from him. I couldn’t stop staring. I couldn’t stop myself from walking closer to get a better look. I tried to cover my intentions by asking if I could take his picture. He smiled and said I could.

He offered me a drag on his cigarette, ignoring my anxiety. I welcomed the excuse to get closer and took a puff, although I wasn’t a smoker. I expected it might be marijuana, but it wasn’t. Still it had similar effects: dilation of time, exaggerated sense of my own heartbeat, loss of self consciousness and in the presence of such a spectacular man, an instant and persistent erection. I lost track of the conversation and fell silent, but my eyes were still riveted on his crotch.

“You want to take a picture of that?” he laughed. “Why don’t you take it out and have a look at it?” he said as he laid a heavy hand on my shoulder.

I reached cautiously for the top button of his cut-off jeans, and fumbled a few seconds before he unbuttoned it for me and popped the other buttons open as he pulled his fly apart.

His cock lay draped over his enormous balls and down between his thighs. It was thick as a cobra and, exposed to the air, it started and came to life. He lifted it from between his legs and laid it across his hip. Even soft it was over a foot long. He combed his fingers through the short hair on my head, encouraging my fascination with his swiftly swelling cock. As it lifted itself from his thigh and rose into the air, I felt my own dick throbbing inside my loose shorts. I was mesmerized by its rise. I glanced briefly at his proud, grinning face, as he watched the two of us and nodded for me to go at it.

It was standing straight up from his crotch now, a foot and a half of flesh, even thicker at the base than it was around the blunt head. I bent it toward my salivating mouth and went down, wrestling half of it inside me on the first try, and squeezing most of the rest in my jerking fists. I couldn’t wait to taste it’s juice, but he kept a more leisurely pace. As I sucked him hard and buried more and more of it inside me, he unfastened my shorts and jerked my wet cock with his left hand. To a hand familiar with a cock as big as his, my ten inches must have felt small, but he was just as determined to bring me off as I was him. I felt the big ridge on the underside of his cock grow as thick as a pencil, get as hard as steel, and then both of us were rewarded for our efforts. Cum shot from him deep inside my throat like a fire hose and I came so hard we both heard it splatter on the cement floor.

His still jerking cock slid up my throat and I tasted the cum I was swallowing. He lifted my face to his and we shared a cum flavored kiss as he continued firing on himself.

When he stopped, he sat up, brushed the cum from his chest and legs with his hands, and stood. I was surprised he was shorter than I, though no less impressive. He pulled his loose shorts down his legs and stepped out of them.

I still couldn’t take my eyes off him, if not his dick, then the rest of his marvelous body. I worked out at Gold’s in Venice. I had seen big guys before, but he was bigger, and unlike the pros, he had still had a tight, svelte waist, albeit ridged with thick bifurcated rolls of abdominal muscle.

My fascination was obvious and he indulged me by flexing his arms and doing a most muscular. I shot a few more pictures, then he laid my hand on his chest and encouraged me to feel him.

“You like big guys?” He asked.

I nodded without taking my hands or my eyes from his body.

“Then I need to introduce you to some friends,” he said. He took me by my one of my wandering hands and led me away from the beach, deeper inland. We walked along a path through dense foliage.

In a clearing invisible to the beaches we came to a village made of the same small huts on his property. Between the huts I saw a few men, walking, working and standing. They weren’t Native American or African. They were all races and colors. The only thing they had in common was their size. Compared to them, my new friend was average. That none of them wore shirts made their mass all the more evident. I snapped half a dozen shots as we walked closer.

“Welcome to paradise, my friend,” he said to me, beaming.

As we walked through the village I was inclined to agree with the characterization.

A tall blond man looked at us as we approached.

“Matt, you have brought a new friend. What is his name?”

To spare Matt the embarrassment of admitting we hadn’t exchanged names I introduced myself. The blond called himself Logan.

“Have you introduced him to the weed?” Logan asked Matt.

“Only a puff,” he said, “but I can tell he will like it.”

“Then I don’t see why he should wait any longer,” Logan said. Behind him a small group of the men were sorting stacks of a large, dried, crumbled leaf and rolling it inside other dried leaves into fat, twisted cigars. Logan took one from their working pile, bit off the end, held it to a small campfire until it smoked, and then took a deep puff. He handed it to Matt, who took one too and then handed it to me.

Logan motioned for me to sit. Then he turned to Matt and gave him a deep kiss. Their thick ropy dicks expanded, and since neither of them were wearing pants, they were free to rise unfettered between their bodies, rubbing erotically against each others thighs, waist and then joining against each other, sandwiched between their taut tummies. I realized I was still holding my camera and snapped a few pictures, some close-ups of their moist faces as they devoured each other’s lips and some close-ups of their enormous wrestling cocks.

Logan broke their kiss and stepped back. He wrapped the fingers of one hand as far around Matt’s cock as he could. Matt reciprocated and the two of them continued their deep mouthed kiss as they yanked and jerked at each other’s cocks. Logan grasped Matt’s tightly muscled waist and turned him around. Matt arced his back to present his round, muscular butt to him. Logan dribbled spit on his two foot cock, spread the slippery fluid around the head, and squatted low enough to position it between Matt’s ass cheeks as I continued to capture the whole scene with my camera. I hoped that I wouldn’t run out of space on my memory card or batteries before I could capture their looks of intense ecstasy as they came.

Logan put both his hands on Matt’s broadly muscled shoulders and pulled him back into his cock. Without a hint of pain, Logan’s cock slowly slid deep inside Matt’s ass, and Matt’s foot and a half dick bobbed and throbbed in appreciation of the conquest.

After I’d covered the fucking with enough shots to capture the scene, I set the camera down beside me and took a deep draw from the cigar as I watched the show. The instant the smoke hit my lungs the disjointed feelings returned and I worried I wouldn’t be able to continue taking pictures. But with my second puff I started to feel something new: a feeling I can only describe as solidity deep in my chest and radiating outward to my toes and fingertips, making my muscles feel both heavy, like lead, and curiously light. The skin around my chest, shoulders, upper arms and thighs began to feel tight, as if my whole body were drawing a deep breath and expanding. My muscles stretched larger with each long, slow beat of my heart, and I heard a sound like a rubber balloon expanding as my skin stretched to accommodate my new size. I heard muscle and cartilage crackling as the fibers swelled and expanded. A feeling of immense strength flooded my body with such intensity that I couldn’t resist tensing and flexing my muscles, one group at a time. Each time I did they swelled even larger and the stretching and crackling noises grew louder.

My arms and shoulders were full and hard. My chest was pulling at the buttons down the front. Under my arms my swelling lats were starting to make the stitches of my shirt pop. Even my loose fitting shorts were tight around my thighs. I took a deep breath and the buttons on my shirt popped. I flexed my chest, shoulders and arms in a “most muscular”. My sleeves tore free. I flexed my arms in a “double biceps” and felt the upper arms of my shirt shred. I picked up my camera and turned it back at myself, set the lens at wide angle and took a few shots, grinning like an idiot.

Logan looked up from Matt’s broad muscular backside and big tight butt to watch me flex and grow. Matt, lost in the rapture of getting fucked, needed Logan to nudge his chin before he turned to look at me and smiled. The sight of me bursting out of my skin turned him on even more. He tightened his ass grip on Logan’s two foot cock and drove himself back on it two or three times. His giant, club-sized cock arced up and fired three times on his face and chest. The veins in Logan’s neck popped. His face got red. He pounded his dick deep and hard inside Matt’s ass as he emptied his load, then buried himself to the hilt and ground into his ass with all his prodigious strength, relishing his penetration of Matt’s ass.

I began to feel the tightening of my muscles subside, but not my hunger for muscle. As much as I had grown, I wasn't half as large as Logan. I drew a deep drag from the cigar that was still balanced between my lips, held the swirling smoke inside my lungs as long as I could, exhaled, and drew deeply two or three more times. Immediately I felt the blood rush through my veins, creating an insane muscle pump, kick-starting the growth again. I arched my broadly muscled back, straightened my arms and twisted my fists, watching the thick cords of muscle on my forearms form deep crevices between the muscles. I pulled apart the remains of my shirt and rubbed my shoulders, arms and chest appreciatively, though they were still smaller than those of the men around me.

I heard a shutter fire. Matt had picked up my camera and was taking MY picture now. I didn’t care. I was proud.

I took another long drag on the thick cigar. Smoke curled around my head as I held some deep in my lungs. My blood pounded hard inside my veins. My muscles, swollen to near bursting, as hard as rock, expanded yet again.

I savored the sensation and smiled as I flexed my arm and watched my bicep bunch up like a cantaloupe. My entire upper body was like armor. As Matt continued taking pictures, Logan knelt in front of me and pulled my shorts down over his wide thighs. My stiff penis, thick and long as a prize cucumber bobbed and swung free, then slowly levitated higher, pointing upwards in the deep crevice between the twin building blocks of my abdominals. The weight of it pulled on my groin. I looked down and saw it had gotten longer and much thicker. My balls were bigger too, stretching my sack as they bounced inside, excited at the attention I was attracting.

Logan opened his mouth wide and wrapped his thick lips around it, sliding slowly, but forcefully down, stuffing inch after inch deep into this throat. Logan grasped my lemon-sized testicles one in each hand and twisted and tugged at them. I heard the shutter fire more rapidly as Matt captured Logan’s conquest of my prick and the elation on my face. The incredible hulk that knelt between my legs was enthusiastically priming my penis pump, his lips clamped tight.

The cigar still clung to my dry lips. I sucked the smoke deeper still. Between my ears my blood pounded harder. With each breath my muscles expanded, and I knew I was still no where near the size of Logan or even Matt. When I could tear my eyes from the sight of Logan sucking my cock, I marveled at the thick tear drops of muscle taking shape on either side of my legs and the deep separation between them and the other muscles of my quadriceps. Twin mounds of chest power were forming between my shoulders and only the deep valley between them that allowed me to see below.

Matt handed me my camera, and I began to photograph my view from above, even as I felt the cum in my balls pressing upward toward release. Somehow I managed to hold on to the camera as Logan dove down on my thick cock and the cream poured into his throat. I even caught the instant he let it spring free from his mouth and it bounced upward, ejaculating into the air.

Caribbean Cruise