SHAVED

     I'd been out riding my bicycle that Saturday, intent on logging the
35 mile round trip to Great Falls and back averaging 23 miles per hour.
It always seemed like an easily attainable goal until you hit Old Angler's
Inn and began climbing the knee-killing hill that crested and then plunged
you down into the Maryland side of the park. Out of breath and sweating
like a mint julep in August, I stopped at the concession stand for a bag
of trail mix and a fill-up for my water bottle.  I made a quick pit stop
in the men's room, and as I was exiting I nearly ran head-on into him.

     He was a big man - my 5'10" 150 lb. body was dwarfed by his 6'2" 230
lb. mass.  His blue lycra bicycle riding shorts were working overtime
supporting a bulging basket and muscular ass, and his tank top shirt
showed off a hairy chest and pink nipples that occasionally showed
through. His thighs and calves were well formed and proportional, and it
was obvious that he was a well-tuned athlete.  I stared for a few seconds,
then said "excuse me" and let him by. Outside I mounted my bicycle and
started tightening the pedal straps around my shoes.  I'd have to ride
hard to maintain a high average, but I decided to linger a bit until the
gorgeous giant exited the men's room.

     A couple of minutes passed before he stepped out.  He walked over to
where I was leaning against a wall and grabbed hold of his mountain
bicycle.  I could already tell that we were very different men - he was
built like a linebacker, I was built like a bicycle racer; he rode the
rough trails on a mountain bicycle, I skimmed the streets on a racer.  But
he was so attractive that I had to speak to him.

     "Where did you ride from?" I asked.

     "From Georgetown," he answered.  "I rode up the C&O canal trail.  How
about you?"

     "From Dupont Circle, but I didn't ride the C&O - too rough.  I took
MacArthur Boulevard."

     "Yea, I ride that trail sometimes," he said, "from Dupont Circle,"
then grinned a look of innocence that completely disarmed me. "Usually I
ride it on Sunday when the traffic is light."

     "Me too," I agreed.  I would agree to just about anything with this
guy.

     "Well, looks like you're ready to head off.  Have a nice ride back."

     "Yea, okay.  You too," I said, but made no immediate move to leave.
I couldn't take my eyes of his body, and I was sure he noticed it. At last
he spoke.

     "Maybe I'll ride the pavement back with you," he said.

     "The Canal trail is a little rough.  Unless you're into really fast
riding.  Looks like you're set up for speed with that bicycle computer and
all."

     "No, no, I'm not in any hurry," I said, forgetting all about raising
my average speed.  I mean what's important in life, sexy men or strained
knees?  Easy choice.

     "My name's Jeff," he said.

     "Hi Jeff," I said.  "I'm Tony."

     We headed off together, and I was surprised to find that he rode a
rather quick pace himself.  The more we spoke, the more I liked him. He
was intelligent and articulate, and seemed knowledgeable in any number of
topic areas.  And besides he had the nicest ass I'd seen in a long time.

     I invited him to my house for something cold to drink and he
accepted.  Inside he expressed concern about sitting on the furniture
because he was sweating so much.

     "You can take a shower if you want," I offered.

     "I think I will.  Thanks.  You can join me if you want," he said,
again with that boyish grin.  A real case of terminal cuteness.  I was
surprised at his offer, but didn't have to think twice.  He undressed with
the casualness of a man who knows his body is the object of admiration.
We stepped into the shower and began lathering up.  Jeff rubbed the bar of
soap in his massive hands and began strongly massaging my back.  Then he
worked his way lower until he was sliding his hand between my ass cheeks.
I was getting a hard on that I knew would not go away on its own.

     When I turned around I faced a body that filled the width of my
shower.  I rubbed the bar of soap around his hairy chest, and when he
lifted his arms I lathered up his armpits.  He turned around and I
completed my clean-up act on his backside, spending extra time reaching
between his legs to soap up his heavy balls and stiffening cock. Working
my way lower, I gently massaged his well-defined legs.

     "I guess professional bike riders get leg massages all the time,"
Jeff said.

     "Probably so," I agreed.  "I wonder if their trainers enjoy rubbing
them down as much as I'm enjoying this."  He turned around then and faced
me with his huge cock standing at a 90 degree angle to his body.  I took
it in my mouth, and while I sucked on that beautiful tool I ran my soapy
hand between his ass cheeks.  We both got a thorough cleaning.

     "Is it true that professional bicycle racers shave their legs?" he
asked me.

     "Some do," I answered.  "Not all of them.  I think it's a European
practice."

     "I always wondered about that," he said.  "I've had such hairy legs
for as long as I can remember, and I wondered what it would feel like to
have them smooth."

     "Well, I've got a shaver right out on the counter," I told him.  "I
can certainly oblige you if you're willing to try.  And I'll be extra
careful - you can trust me."

     "Sure, why not," he said.  "If I don't like it I just let the hair
grow back, right?"

     I grabbed my razor and shave cream, and lathered up his legs.  Slowly
and gently I tracked the razor through the white cream, exposing muscular
legs and light skin that had been shaded from the sun for years by his
downy fur.  When I was done his legs looked as if they had been sculpted
from white Italian marble.  The muscles seemed even more clearly defined,
and the skin was a pale translucent membrane that nearly exposed the inner
workings of these massive wonders.

     "Hold up your arms," I told him, and then covered each armpit with
shave cream.  In shorter strokes I scraped away the matted wet hair from
his armpits.  He was beginning to look like a transformed beast - a man-
bear who had magically escaped from the Island of Dr. Moreau. "One last
area, okay?" I asked, and pointed to his crotch.  He gave me that
incredible grin, and I knew he had agreed.  With even more gentleness than
before I lathered up his crotch area.  I shaved from his navel down,
moving his stiff rod from side to side so I could completely smooth this
patch of hairy wilderness.  He lifted one leg up and planted it on the
wall so I could have access to the underside of his scrotum.  In a few
minutes he rinsed off a body that was smooth as silk from his navel down,
and had two silky armpits too. The rest of his body - chest, upper belly,
thick arms - retained their brown hairy coverage.  He was an incredibly
sexy contrast.  We dried in a hurry and headed for the bed.

     "What do you want?" he asked me.

     "I want you to lie on your back, and raise your arms above your head
and grab the bedposts," I said.  "Don't let go of them.  Now spread your
legs."  When he complied I climbed on top of him and began gently licking
his armpits. My tongue licked one pit until it was glistening wet, then
moved to the other - all the while gently pinching and twisting his
nipples.  When both armpits were soaked and sensitive, I moved down to his
nipples.  I took each one in my mouth and bit down with a gentle firmness
that was both arousing and slightly painful.  His whimper told me when I
was nearing the pain threshold, and I would ease off the tiniest bit.
Although I knew that his strength could easily overpower me, I felt in
control of this beautiful giant. For now, for whatever reasons, he let me
take control of him.  His arms, though not tied, remained over his head as
if bound.  He writhed beneath me like a shackled wild animal.  And yet, in
a curious way, he was the one in complete control.  Without any words,
using only motion and moans, he directed me in what to do.

     I moved down and wrapped an arm around each of his massive thighs.
Craning my neck, I licked his smooth ball sac like a rapidly melting ice
cream cone.  His cock and balls were even more sensitive than usual, after
being shaved, and he moved and moaned with pleasure at each stroke of my
hot wet tongue.  I traced the word "BEAST" on his belly with my tongue,
and I could feel the individual muscles of his tight tummy contract with
excitement.

     I moved my mouth back down and took his ball in my mouth.  It lolled
around like a wet hardboiled egg.  I let it free and sucked up the other
one.  Then I began tracking the fleshy line to his asshole.

     "Don't do that," he said.  "I don't like that."

     "Just keep hold of those bedposts," I told him.  "I guarantee you'll
like this."  I reached my hands under his tree-trunk thighs, and with his
assistance lifted his legs until his cleaned and shaved ass lay open like
a shucked oyster.  My tongue slowly worked its way around his center hole,
the mouth occasionally taking a quick nip on his ass. Then I moved in for
the kill.  With quick movements I began licking his asshole, first quickly
and softly, then with strong probing licks that forced open that tender
opening. I could feel his muscle relax as my tongue firmly but slowly
prodded its way inside, could feel the anal contractions when my hand
stroked his hard cock.

     "Now, do you want more?" I asked in a teasing tone of voice.  "Or do
you still not like that?"

     "Yes.  More.  More"

     "Then you have to tell me exactly what you want," I said.

     "You know what I want," he said, his legs still in the air and his
ass still exposed.  "Please, you know."

     "You've got to ask for it," I reminded him.  "You've got to beg for
it."

     "I'd like for you to fuck me," he finally said.  I was so turned on
by this big guy asking me for something. "Please fuck me."

     That was all the invitation I needed.  His asshole was wet and
slippery from my tongue lashing and his own excitement, and my cock slid
in with little resistance.  "Oh yea," he said.  "Oh yes, do it...do it."

     I fucked him with long slow strokes at first, occasionally leaning
down to bite at his sexy nipples, or lick his smooth armpits.  All the
while he continued to hold onto the bedposts as if tied there. Finally I
could control myself no more.

     "Let go of the bedposts," I told him.  "Turn over and get up on your
knees."  He complied without a question.  I slid my cock into him from
behind, mounting this big bear like a dog.  His massive back supported me
while I fucked his ass from behind.  Below I jacked off his beautiful cock
with my right hand and roughly played with his nipples with my left hand.

     "Tell me when you're about to let loose," I instructed.

     "I'm ready now," he said.  "I'm about to cum.  Oh God, I'm gonna
shoot, I'm aa aa I'm Oh God, here I cum."

     He let loose with a stream of cum that criss-crossed the bed in thick
milky ribbons and still had enough volume to puddle up beneath us. At the
same time I shot my cock up his beautiful ass, filling him with my viscous
fluid.  We collapsed together on the bed.  Now that we had both climaxed,
his passiveness ended.  He wrapped me up in massive arms and folded me
into him like a tablespoon engulfing a teaspoon.  Between the bicycle ride
and the sexual ride we were both exhausted.  We slept encased in each
other for hours.