deeply massaging my chest, back, and shoulder muscles while vigorously pumping away, ever deeper and wider up my ass channel. There was pain, to be sure, but the thought of this big, beautiful monster, with what was now ten or more inches of thick black cock stuffed inside me, going wild with lust in my body—and that I was able to take him and give him such a buzz—gave me exquisite pleasure. It wasn’t long before I felt him release with a violent jerk, coating my insides with his cum.

Then the lion turned into a lamb. He kissed me on the back of the neck and then returned to slowly and deeply massaging my aching body. One of his huge hands wrapped itself around my cock, and he gave me a slow hand job. After I had cum, he continued to massage my body until I slept. When I awoke, I was free of my bonds and lying across the backseat of the limo. The driver had dressed again and was waiting to show me into Peterson’s country home. I pulled my briefs, pants, and loafers back on, stuffed my socks in my pockets and put my arms through my shirt. I didn’t have time to dress further, though, before the Hulk had taken up my suit coat and tie, picked up my duffel bag, and was heading for the front door of an ostentatious beach house. Not knowing what else to do, I followed along behind him.

We entered a large foyer with two banks of stairs raising two stories. The Hulk started trudging up the stairs to the second floor, with me trailing behind him, gawking at the undoubtedly expensive erotic art on the stairwell walls. We went down a long corridor and entered a large bedroom, decorated for a gentleman in soft leathers and greens and browns and gold’s. I heard the water running in a side room, and before I could explore there, a Greek god appeared at the door. He was young, couldn’t have been twenty yet, and lithe, with a slim waist and hips, although with well-defined musculature; black curly hair, flopping down into his face and gorgeous light-blue eyes. His welcoming smile showed luminous pearly whites. He was wearing form-fitting white T-shirt, and tight gray slacks that showed a respectable basket at the crouch. Fine, curly black hair laced down his forearms and blossomed from the V neck of his T.

“Hello, there, my name is Salvas. You both look exhausted,” he said with a grin. “To the showers with both of you.”

Both the Hulk and I stripped down again and padded into the bathroom, which boasted a particularly large shower stall. The water was on from two jets, and the Hulk and I entered. I turned and watched the Greek god pull the T over his head and strip off his trousers. He was wearing a silky thong that left little to the imagination, and he was beautiful—slim, lithe, well-muscled through the chest and arms, and covered with curly hair. He winked at me as he stepped out his thong, showing a good seven inches of fairly thick, uncircumcised dick, picked up a cake of soap and a wash cloth, and entered the shower.

I was the guest, so Salvas soaked me up first, running his soap and wash cloth around my body in a way that made my cock stand at attention again. During this process, the Hulk leaned back in a corner, watched us, and languidly pulled at